19351	----	CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN by ROY J. SNELL The Reilly & Lee Co. Chicago Printed in the United States of America Copyright, 1922 by The Reilly & Lee Co. All Rights Reserved Curlie Carson Listens In CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I A STRANGE MESSAGE 9 II SOMETHING BIG 20 III A WHISPER IN THE NIGHT 34 IV A GAME FOR TWO 46 V IN THE DARK 55 VI A REAL DISCOVERY 64 VII CURLIE RECEIVES A SHOCK 75 VIII CURLIE MEETS A MILLIONAIRE 84 IX A MYSTERIOUS MAP 95 X THE FIRST LAP OF A LONG JOURNEY 107 XI "MANY BARBARIANS AND MUCH GOLD" 117 XII OUT TO SEA IN A COCKLESHELL 126 XIII A GHOST WALKS 134 XIV THE COMING STORM 141 XV S. O. S. 151 XVI A CONFESSION 160 XVII A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT 170 XVIII THE STORMY PETREL GETS AN ANSWER 177 XIX THE MAP'S SECRET 185 XX A SEA ABOVE A SEA 194 XXI THE BOATS ARE GONE 203 XXII THE WRECK OF THE KITTLEWAKE 211 XXIII THE MIRACLE 219 XXIV THE STORY OF THE MAP 227 XXV OFF ON ANOTHER WILD CHASE 234 CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN CHAPTER I A STRANGE MESSAGE Behind locked and barred doors, surrounded by numberless mysterious-looking instruments, sat Curlie Carson. To the right of him was a narrow window. Through that window, a dizzy depth below, lay the city. Its square, flat roofs formed a mammoth checker-board. Between the squares criss-crossed the narrow black streets. Like a white chalk-line, drawn by a careless child, the river wound its crooked way across this checker-board. To the left of him was a second narrow window. Through this he caught the dark gleam of the broad waters of Lake Michigan. Here and there across the surface twinkled the lamps of a vessel, or flashed the warning beacon of a lighthouse. A boy in his late teens was Curlie. Slender, dark, with coal-black eyes, with curls of the same hue clinging tightly to his well-shaped head, he had the strong profile and the smooth tapering fingers that might belong to an artist, a pickpocket or a detective. An artist Curlie was, an artist in his line--radio. Although still a boy, he was already an operator of the "commercial, extra first-class" type. So far as license and title were concerned, he could go no higher. A pickpocket he was not, but a detective he might be thought to be; a strange type of detective, however, a detective of the air; the kind that sits in a small room hundreds of feet in air and listens; listens to the schemes, the plots, the counterplots of men and to the wild babble of fools. His task was that of aiding in the capture of knaves and the silencing of foolish folks who used the newly-discovered radiophone as their mouthpiece. "Foolish people," Major Whittaker, Curlie's superior, who had called him to the service, had said, "do quite as much damage to the radio service as crooks. Fools and knaves must alike be punished and your task will be to help catch them." Wonderful ears had Curlie Carson, perhaps the most wonderful ears in the world. In catching the fine shadings of diminishing sounds which came to him through the radio compass, there was not a man who could excel him. So Curlie sat there surrounded by wire-wrapped frames, coils, keys, buttons, switches, motors, dry-cells, storage batteries and all the odds and ends which made up the equipment of the most perfect listening-in station in the world. As he sat there with Joe Marion, his pal, by his side, his brow was wrinkled in thought. He was reviewing the events of the previous night. At 1:00 a.m., the witching hour when the crooked ones, the mean ones, come creeping forth like ghosts to carry on doubtful conversations by radio, a strange thing had happened. A message had gone crashing out through space. Wave lengths 1200 meters long sped it on its way. There was power enough behind it to carry it from pole to pole, but all it had said was: "A slight breeze from the west." Three times the message had been repeated, then had come silence. There had been no answer though Curlie had listened long for it on 1200 meter wave lengths and five other lengths as well. Sudden as had come the message, fleet as had been its passing, it had not been too fleet for Curlie. He had compassed its direction; measured its distance. On a map of the city which lay before him he had made a pencil cross and said: "It came from there." And he was right for, strange as it may seem, an expert such as Curlie can sit in a hidden tower room such as his was and detect the exact location of a station whose message has set his ear drums aquiver. The location had puzzled him. There was not a station in the city licensed to send 1200 meter wave lengths. The spot he had marked was the location of the city's most magnificent apartment hotel. The hotel possessed a radiophone set. Its antennae, hung high upon the building's roof, were capable of carrying that 1200 meter message with all that power behind it, but the radio equipment of the hotel had no such power. "Something crooked about that," he had mumbled to himself. His first impulse had been to call the police. He did not act upon it. They might blunder. The thing might get out. This law-breaker might escape. Not five people in all the world knew of Curlie's detecting station. He would work out this problem alone. Now, as he sat thinking of it, he decided to confide this new secret to his pal, Joe Marion. "Yes," he told himself, "I'll tell him about it at chow." At this moment his mind was recalled to other matters. New trouble was brewing. "A slight breeze from the west," his mind went over the message automatically, "and the wind was due east. Don't mean much as it stands, but I suspect means a lot more than it seems to." Just above Curlie's head there hung a receiver. To the right and left of him were two loud-speakers. Before him ranged three others. Each one of these was tuned to a certain wave length, 200, 350, 500, 600, 1200 meters. Each was modulated down until sounds came to Curlie's delicately tuned ear drums as little more than whispers. A concert was being broadcast on 350. The booming tones of a baritone had been coming in as softly and sweetly as a mother's lullaby. But now Curlie's ear detected interference. Instantly he was all alert. The receiver was clamped down over his ears, a half dozen switches were sent, snap, snap, snap. There followed a dead silence. Then in a shrill boyish voice, together with the baritone's renewal of his song, there came: "I want the world to know that I am a wireless operator, op-er-a-a-tor. Hoop-la! Tra-la!" Curlie smiled in spite of his vexation. He acted quickly and with precision. His slender fingers guided a coil-wound frame from right to left. Backward and forward it glided, and as it moved the boyish "Hoop-la" rose and fell. Almost instantly it came to a standstill. "There! That's it!" he breathed. Then to Joe Marion, "It's a shame about those kids. They won't learn to play the game square. Don't know the rules and don't care. Think we can't catch 'em, I guess." His hand went out for a telephone. "Superior 2231," he purred. "That you, 2231? Just a moment." He touched a key here, another there. He twisted a knob there, then: "That you, Mulligan?" he half whispered. "Good! There's a kid on your beat got a wireless running wild. Yes. Broke in on the concert. Don't be hard on him. No license? Yes, guess that's right. Take away his sending set. Give him another chance? Let him listen in. What's that? Location? Clarendon Street, near Orton Place; about second door, I'd say. That's all right. Thanks, yourself." Dropping the receiver on its hook he tossed off his headpiece, snapped at five buttons, then settled back in his chair. "These kids'll be the death of me yet," he grumbled. "Always breaking in, not meaning any harm but doing harm all the same. I don't feel so very sore about them though. It's the fellows that go in for long wave lengths and high power, that break in on 500, 1200 and 1800, that do the real damage. Had a queer case last night. Looks crooked, too." He was silent for a moment then he said reflectively: "Guess that's about all till midnight. It's after midnight that the queer birds come creeping out. I'm going to tell you about that one last night, over the ham sandwich, dill pickle and coffee. No use to try now--we'd sure get broken in on." Joe Marion, who had been taken on as an understudy by Curlie, was at the present time working without pay. At times when trouble developed on two different wave lengths at once, he took a hand and helped out. For the most part he merely looked, listened and learned. His pal he held in the greatest admiration. And who would not? Had he not, when this great big new thing, the radiophone, came leaping right into the world from nowhere, been able to take a hand from the very beginning and become at once a valuable servant of his beloved country? Had he not at times detected meddlers who were endangering the lives of men upon the high seas? Had he not at one time received the highest of commendations from the great chief of this secret service of the air? To Joe there was something weirdly fascinating about the whole business. Here they were, two boys in the tower of the highest building in a great city. Five people knew of their presence. These five were high up in the radio secret service. No message sent out by them could ever be traced back to its source. They did not use the air. That would be dangerous, easily traced. They did not use the telephone alone. That, too, would be dangerous. But when a radiophone had been connected to the telephone wire and tuned to a certain wave length, then they talked and not even the person they talked with would ever know whence came the message. This was a necessary precaution for, from this very tower, dangerous bands of criminals, gangs of smugglers, and all other types of law-breakers would ultimately be brought to justice. And if these but knew of the presence of this boy in his tower room, some dark night that tower would be rocked by an exploding bomb and the boy in his room would be shaken to earth like a young mud-wasp in his nest. "I'll tell you," said Curlie, as he rose to answer a tap on the door, "I believe that affair last night was some big thing; but what it was I can't even guess." He opened the door to let in Coles Masters, his relief, then motioning to Joe he took his cap and left the room. Down the winding stairs which led to the elevator several stories lower down they made their way in silence, at last to enter a cage and be silently dropped to the ground hundreds of feet below. CHAPTER II SOMETHING BIG "You see," Curlie began as he crossed his slim legs beside a small table in an all-night lunch room, buried somewhere in the deep recesses of this same skyscraper, "that fellow sent the message about the easterly breeze that blew west and I located the station at that hotel. This morning I went over to see how the place looked. It's a wonderful hotel, that one; palm garden in the middle of it, marble columns, fountain, painted sheet iron ceiling that'd make you dizzy to look at, and the finest dressed people you ever saw walking around everywhere. "Well, I found my way to the sending room of the radiophone and right away the operator wanted to throw me out; said I was a fresh kid and all that. But when I showed him my papers, he calmed down a lot and showed me everything he had. "I saw right away it wasn't his equipment that had sent that message--that'd be like sending a Big Bertha bomb into Paris with a twenty-two caliber rifle. He just naturally didn't have the power, that's all. So I didn't tell him anything about it; just walked out and went around back to where I could see the way his wires ran from the sending room to the antenna. "I hadn't any more than got there and had one look-up when along strolls a man who wants to know what I'm looking at. I saw right away that he wasn't a hotel employee for he didn't wear either a bandmaster's uniform nor a cutaway coat, so I just smiled and said: "Got a girl friend up there on the sixteenth floor. She's leaving this morning and arranged to drop her trunk down to me so's not to have to tip the porter. "Well, sir, I hadn't more than said that than a girl did pop her head out of a sixteenth floor window and stare straight down at me. "The fellow actually dodged. Guess he thought the trunk was due any minute. "Funny part of it was the girl actually seemed interested in me, just as if she had met me somewhere before. Of course she was too high up for me to tell what she was like, but it made me mighty curious. I counted the windows to right and left so I could find that room if I wanted to. The window was only the third to the right from where the lead wire to the antenna went up. "Well, then, that fellow--" "Mr. Carson?" a voice interrupted Curlie. "Anyone here by the name of Carson?" It came from the desk-clerk of the eating place. "That's me," exclaimed Curlie, jumping up. "Telephone." "All right. Be back in a minute, Joe." Curlie was away to answer the call. "'Lo. That you, Curlie?" came through the receiver. "This is Coles Masters. Got a bad case--extra bad. Can't understand it. Fellow's sending 600 meter waves, with enough power to cross the Atlantic." "Six hundred!" exclaimed Curlie in a tense whisper. "Why, that's what they use for S.O.S. at sea! It's criminal. Endangers every ship in distress. Five years in prison for it. Get him, can't you?" "Can't. That's the trouble. Every time I think I've got him spotted he seems to move." "To move!" "Yes, sir." "That's queer! I'll be up right away." "Come on," exclaimed Curlie, grabbing his hat and dragging Joe to his feet. "It's a big one. Moves, he says. Sends 600; big power. Bet it's that same hotel fellow. Gee whiz! Supposing it turned out to be that sixteenth story girl and she caught me spying on her. I tell you it's something big!" Impatient at the slowness of the up-shooting elevator, Curlie at last leaped out before the iron door at the top was half open, then two steps at a time sprang up a flight of stairs. Out of breath, he arrived at the final landing, sprang through the door to the secret tower room, then seizing his headpiece, sank into a chair. By a single move of the hand, Coles Masters indicated the radio-compass he had been listening in on. "That's where he was, last time he spoke," he grumbled, "but no telling where he'll be next. He's been dodging all over that stretch of country." Curlie's fingers moved rapidly. He adjusted the coil of a radio-compass here, another there and still another here. He twisted the knob of each to the 600 mark, then, twisting the tuning knobs, lined them all up to receive on the same wave length. The winding of each was set at a slightly different angle from any other. "That about covers him," he mumbled. "Get the distance?" "Near as I could make out," said Coles Masters, "it was from ten to fifteen miles. He moves toward us, then away at times, just as he does to right and left." "Hm," sighed Curlie, resting his chin on his hands. "That's a new dodge, this moving business. Complicates things, that does." For a time he sat in a brown study. At last he spoke again, this time quite as much to himself as to the other: "Folks don't move unless they have a way to move. That fellow has some means of locomotion. Anyway," he sighed, "it's not our friend of the big hotel unless--unless he or she or whoever it is has taken to locomotion, and that's not likely. Not the same side of the city. Out near the forest preserve." "Yes, or a little beyond," said Coles. "What do you think," asked Curlie suddenly, "has he got an automobile or an airplane?" "Can't tell," said Coles thoughtfully. "You can't really judge distances in air accurately. There are powerful equipments which might be mounted on either automobiles or airplanes." "The thing that puzzled me, though, was his line of chatter. All about some 'map, old French,' and a lot of stuff like that. I--" Suddenly he broke off. A grinding sound had come from one of the loud speakers. There followed in a clear, strong voice: "Map O.K. Old French is amazing. Good for a million." Curlie's fingers were busy once more as a tense look drew his forehead into a scowl. "About fifteen miles," he whispered. Then the voice resumed: "Time up the bird. When?" A tense silence ensued. Then, faint, as if from far away, yet very distinctly there came the single word: "Wednesday." This was followed by three letters distinctly pronounced: "L.C.W." A second later came the strong voice in answer: "A.C.S." "That," said Curlie as he settled back in his chair, "in my estimation ends the night's entertainment. But the nerve of the fellow!" he exploded. "Sending that kind of rot on six hundred. Why, at this very moment some disabled ship might be struggling in a storm on the Great Lakes or even on the Atlantic, and this jumble of words would muddle up their message so its meaning would be lost and the ship with it. The worst I could wish for such a fellow is that he be dropped into the sea with some means of keeping afloat but with neither food nor drink and a ship nowhere in sight." If Curlie had known how exactly this wish was to be granted in the days that were to come, he might have experienced some strange sensations. He straightened up and placed a dot on the map before him. "That's where he was. I'll motor out in the morning and have a look at things. May discover some clew." Curlie was a bright American boy of the very best type. Like most American boys who do not have riches thrust upon them, when he wanted a thing he made it or made a way to get it. Three years previous he had wanted an automobile--wanted it awfully. And his total capital had been $49.63. He had been wanting that car for some time when an express train hit a powerful roadster on a crossing near his home. Having flocked in with the throng to view the twisted remains of the car, he had been struck with an idea. This idea he had put into action. The railroad had settled with the owner for the car. They had the wreck of it on their hands. Curlie bought it for twenty-five dollars. To his great delight he had found the powerful motor practically uninjured. The driving gear too, with the exception of one cog wheel, was in workable order. The remainder of the car he sold to a junk dealer for five dollars. It was twisted and broken beyond redemption. He had next searched about for a discarded chassis on which to mount his gears and motor. This search rewarded, he had proceeded to assemble his car. And one fine day he sailed out upon the street with the "Humming Bird," as he had named her. "Better call her 'Gravel Car,'" Joe had said when he saw that she had no body at all and that he must ride with his feet thrust straight out before him in a homemade seat bolted to a buckboard-like platform. But when, on a level stretch of road, Curlie had "let her out," Joe had at once acquired an immense respect for the Humming Bird. "For," he said later, "she can hum and she can go like a streak of light, and that's about all any humming bird can do." No further messages of importance having drifted in to him from the outer air, Curlie, an hour before dinner, made his way down to the street and, having warmed up the Humming Bird's motor, muttered as he sprang into the seat: "I'll just run out there and see what I see." A half hour later, just as the first gray streak of dawn was appearing, he curved off onto a gravel road. Here he threw his car over to one side and, switching on a flashlight, steered with one hand while he bent over the side to examine the left-hand track. There had been a light rain at ten that night. Since that time a heavy car with diamond-tread tires had passed along the road, leaving its tracks in certain soft, sandy spots. "Maybe that's him," Curlie murmured. A little farther on, stopping his machine, he got out and walked along the road. Examining the surface closely, he walked on for five rods, then wheeled about and made his way back to the car. "He was over this road three times last night. That looks like a warm scent. Can't tell, though. My friend might not have been in a car at all; might have been in a plane. "We'll have a look at the very spot." He twirled the wheel and was away. A half mile farther down the road, he paused to look at a map. "Not quite here," he murmured. "About a quarter mile farther." The car crept over another quarter of a mile. When he again came to a halt he found himself on a stretch of paved road. "This is the spot from which the last message was sent. Tough luck!" he muttered. "Can't tell a thing here." Glancing to his right, he sat up with a start. He had suddenly become aware of the fact that he was just before the gate of the estate of J. Anson Ardmore, reputed to be the richest man of the city. "Huh!" Curlie grunted. "Car must have stood about here when that last message was sent. Maybe it went up that lane. Maybe it didn't, too. J. Anson's got a son, about my age I guess. Vincent they call him. He might be up to something. There's a girl, too, sixteen or so. Can't tell what these rich folks will do." He stepped down the rich man's private drive, but here the surface of crushed stone was so perfectly kept that no telltale mark was to be seen. He did not venture far, as he had no relish for being caught trespassing on such an estate without some good explanation for his conduct. Just at that moment he had no desire to explain. As he turned to go back, he caught the thud-thud of hoof beats along the private drive. Fortunately the abundant shrubbery hid him from view. Hardly had he reached the machine and assumed the attitude of one hunting trouble in his engine when a girl rounded a corner at full gallop. Dressed in full riding costume and mounted on a blooded horse, she swung along as graceful as a lark. As she came into the public highway she flashed Curlie a look and a smile. Then she was gone. Curlie liked the smile even if it did come from one of the "four hundred." "Gee! Old Humming Bird," he exclaimed as he patted his car, "did she mean that smile for you or for me? So there might be a girl in the case, same as there seems to be in that one over at the hotel? Girl in most every case. What if she sent those messages and I found her out? That would sure be tough. "But business is business!" He set his mouth grimly. "You can't fool with old Uncle Sam, not when you're endangering the lives of some of his bravest sons at sea." He threw in the clutch and drove slowly along the road. Twice he paused to examine the tracks made the night before. Each time he discovered marks of the diamond tread. "That radiophone was mounted on a car," he decided; "I'll stake my life on that. Now if he keeps it up, how am I to catch him?" CHAPTER III A WHISPER IN THE NIGHT The next night found Curlie in the secret tower room alone. Joe Marion was away helping to run down a case of "malicious interference." It was curious business, this work of the radio secret service. Though he had been at it for months, Curlie had never quite got used to it. A detective he was in the truest sense of the word, yet how different from the kind one reads about in books. He laughed as he thought of it now. Then as his tapering fingers adjusted a screw, his brow became suddenly wrinkled in thought. He was troubled by the two cases which had lately developed: the one at the hotel and that other, the station that moved. How was he to locate that powerful secret station in the hotel? How was he to discover the owner of that mysterious moving radio? He could not answer these questions. And yet somehow they must be answered. He knew that. The operator in the hotel was sending on 1200 meter wave lengths. State messages were constantly being sent across the Atlantic on 1200; messages of the greatest importance. There was a conference of nations at that moment going on in Europe. America's representative must be kept in constant touch with the government officials at Washington. If this person at the hotel persisted in sending messages on 1200 meter wave lengths an important message might at any moment be blurred or lost. Not less important was the breaking in of this moving operator on 600. This was the wave length used by ships and by harbor stations. Great steamships sometimes waited for hours to get a message ashore on 600. If this person were to be allowed to break in upon them they might wait hours longer. Thousands of dollars would be lost. And then, as we have said before, the message of some ship in distress might be lost because of this person's interference. "When, oh, when," sighed Curlie, "will people become used to this new thing, the radiophone? When will they learn that it is a great, new servant of mankind and not a toy? When will they take time to instruct themselves regarding the rights of others? When will they develop a conscience which will compel them to consider those rights?" The answer which came to his mind was, "Perhaps never. But little by little they will learn some things. It is my duty not alone to detect but to teach." He shifted uneasily in his chair, then held his ear close to the loud speaker tuned to 200. A message came floating in to him across the air, a mysterious whispered message. "Hello, Curlie," it said. "You don't know me, but you have seen me--" Automatically Curlie's fingers moved the radio-compass backward and forward while his mind gauged the distance. His right hand scrawled some figures on a pad, and all the time his ears were strained to catch the whisper. "I have seen you," it went on, "and I like your looks. That's why I'm talking now." For a second the whisper ceased. There was something awe-inspiring about that whisper. As he sat in his secret chamber away up there against the sky, Curlie felt as if some spirit-being was floating about out there in the sky on a fleecy cloud and pausing now and then to whisper to him. "I saw you," the whisper repeated. "You are in very grave danger. He is a bold and treacherous man. It's big, Curlie, _big_!" The whisper rose shrilly. "But you must be careful. You must not let him know the place where you listen in. I don't know where it is. But I do know you listen in. Be careful--careful--careful, c-a-r-e-f-u-l-" The whisper trailed off into space, to be lost in thin air. Wiping the beads of perspiration from his face, Curlie sat up. "Well, now," he whispered softly to himself, "what do you know about that? "One thing I do know," he told himself. "I'd swear it was a girl's whisper, though how you can tell a girl's whisper is more than I know. Question is: Which one is it--hotel station or the one that moves?" For a moment his brow wrinkled in thought. Then with an exclamation of disgust he exclaimed: "That's easy! I've got their location!" He figured for a few seconds, then put a pencil point on a certain spot on his map. "There!" he muttered. "It's the hotel, the exact spot." Suddenly he started. There came the rattle of a key in the door. "Oh!" he exclaimed as Coles Masters shoved the door open, "it's you. I'm glad you're here. Got something I want to look into. Want to bad. Mind if I take an extra hour?" "Nope." "All right. See you later." With a bound he was out of the door and down the stairs. "That boy," muttered Coles Masters, with a grin, "will either die young or become famous. Only Providence knows which it will be." Curlie did not leave the elevator at the first floor. Dropping down to the sub-basement, he wound his way in and out through a labyrinth of dimly lighted halls, at last to climb a stair to the first basement. Then, having passed into his accustomed eating place, he paused long enough to purchase a Swiss cheese sandwich, after which, with cap pulled well down over his eyes, he made his way up a second flight of stairs into the outer air. He shivered as he emerged into the open street. Whether this chill came from the damp cool of the night or from nervous excitement, he could not tell. The memory of the whispered warning bore heavily upon his mind. Turning his face resolutely in the direction of the hotel, he walked three blocks, then hailed a passing taxi. When the taxi dropped him, a few minutes later, he was still four blocks from the point of his destination. Covering this distance with rapid strides, he came to the rear of the hotel. There, dodging past a line of waiting taxis, he came at length to a dark corner where a stone bench made an angle with the wall of a building directly behind the hotel. Crouching in this corner, he glanced rapidly from right to left to learn whether or not his arrival had been detected. Satisfied that for the moment he was safe, he cast a glance upward to where the aerials of the radiophone glistened in the moonlight. From that point he allowed his gaze to drop steadily downward until it reached the windows of the sixteenth floor. There it remained fixed for a full moment. There came from between his teeth a sudden intake of breath. Had he seen some movement at the window to the right of the wires that led to the aerials? He must see, no matter how great the risk. Drawing a small pair of binoculars from his pocket, he fixed them on the spot. He then turned a screw at the side of the binocular and suddenly there appeared upon the wall of the building a round spot of brilliant light. The size of a plate, this mysterious spot moved rapidly backward and forward until it at last rested upon the wires by the window. "Ah!" came in an involuntary whisper from the boy's lips. A hand, the slender, graceful hand of a girl had been clearly outlined against the wall. Quickly as it had been withdrawn, Curlie had seen that between the thumb and finger of that hand was the end of a wire. "Been tapping the aerial. A girl!" he muttered incredulously. "And it was she who whispered to me out of the night." He had been crouching low. Now he rose, stretched himself, pocketed his instrument and was about to make his way out of the yard when, with the suddenness of a tiger, a body launched itself upon his back. So unexpected was the assault that the boy's body closed up like a jack knife. He fell, face down, completely doubled up, with his face between his knees. "Now I got yuh!" was snarled into his ear. The weight on his back was crushing. He could scarcely breathe. "You--you have," he managed to groan. "You'll come along," said the voice. Curlie did not speak nor stir. The weight was partly lifted from his back. The man had dropped one foot to the ground. Now Curlie, had he been properly exercised for it when he was a child, might have turned out a fair contortionist. He was exceedingly slim and limber and had learned many of the tricks of the contortionist. He had done this merely to amuse his friends. Now the tricks stood him in good stead. He did not attempt to rise by straightening up, as most persons would have done. When the pressure grew less, he lay still doubled up, face down upon the ground. This gave him two advantages. It led his assailant to believe him injured in some way and at the same time left him in position for the next move. When the pressure had been sufficiently removed for his purpose, he took a quick, strong breath, then with a rush which set every muscle in action, he thrust his head between his knees, gripped his own ankles and did a double turn over which resembled nothing so much as a boulder rolling down hill. The next instant, finding himself free, he sprang to his feet, dodged behind a taxi, shot past three moving cars, leaped to the pavement, skirted a wall, then dodged into an alley. Down this alley there was a doorway. Into the shadow of this doorway he threw himself. There was a hole in the wooden door. A hook could be reached through the hole. The hook quickly lifted, he found himself inside a narrow court at the back of a large apartment building. There was a driveway from this court into the street beyond. Assuming a natural pace, he made his way down this driveway and out into the street where, with a low whistled tune, he made his way back toward the heart of the city. Five blocks farther down he paused to adjust his clothing. "Wow! but that was a close one," he muttered. "Don't know who my heavy friend was but he sure wanted to detain me for some reason or other. But say!" he mused; "how about that girl? Hope I didn't get her in bad by flashing that light on her hand. "But then," he thought more soberly, "perhaps she is the principal bad one. Perhaps she is whispering on 200 just to mislead me. Who knows? You've got to be wise as a serpent when you play this game, that's what you've got to be. There's just two kinds of radio detectives, the quick and the dead." He chuckled dryly. "Well, I guess Coles Masters will think I'm one of the dead ones if I don't rush on." Hurrying to the next street, he boarded a car to make his way back to the secret lower room. During his absence things had been happening in the mysterious radio world that hangs like a filmy ghost-land above the sleeping world. CHAPTER IV A GAME FOR TWO As Curlie slipped noiselessly through the door into the secret tower room, he was seized by the arm and dragged into his chair. "Man! where have you been?" It was Coles Masters. He spoke in an excited whisper. "Listen to that! It's the second message. He'll repeat it again. They always do." As Curlie listened, his face grew grave with concern. The message came from the head station of the radiophone secret service bureau. That station was located in New York. The message was a reprimand. Kindly, friendly but firmly, it told Curlie that for two nights now someone in his area had been breaking in on 600. Coast-to-ship messages had been disturbed. Once an S. O. S. from a disabled fishing schooner had barely escaped being lost. Something must be done about it at once! By Curlie! In Chicago! With parted lips and bated breath Curlie listened to the message as it came to him in code. Then, with trembling fingers, he adjusted a lever, touched a button, turned a screw and dictated to a station in another part of the city his answering O.K. to the message. "Of course," he said to Coles, as he lifted the receiver from his head, "that means that this fellow that races all over the map has been at it again to-night." "About an hour ago," said Coles, wrinkling his brow. "What did you do about it?" "What was there to do? I tried to locate him. He danced about, first here, then there. I marked his locations. They were never the same. See," he pointed to the map. "I numbered them. He spoke from five different points." "What did he say?" "It's all written down there," Coles motioned to a pad. "Can't make head nor tail to it. Something about a map, an airplane, a boat and a lot of gold." "What kind of voice?" "Sounded young. Some boy in late teens, I'd say. Though it might have been a girl. She might have changed her voice to disguise it. You can't tell. Had two cases like that in the last three weeks. You never can tell about voices." "No," said Curlie, thoughtfully, "you never can tell. That's about the only thing you can be sure of in this strange old world. You can always be sure that you never can tell. Thing that looks like one thing always turns out to be something else. "Point is," he continued after a moment's deep thought, "somebody's getting past our guard. Slamming us right in the nose and we're not doing a thing about it. Don't look like we could. I've got a theory but you can't go searching the estate of the richest man in your city just on theory; you've got to have facts to back you up, and mighty definite facts, too." "Yes, that's right," agreed Coles. "But what do you make out of all that babble about airplane, map, ship and much gold? Do you suppose it's some smuggling scheme, some plan to get a lot of Russian or Austrian jewels into the country without paying duty or something like that?" "I don't make anything out of that," said Curlie rather sharply, "and for the time, I don't jolly much care. The thing I'm interested in is the fact that we're being beaten; that the air about us is being torn to shreds every night by some careless or criminal person; that we're getting a black eye and a reprimand from the department; that sea traffic is being interrupted; that lives are being imperiled and we can't seem to do anything about it. That's what's turning my liver dark black!" He pounded the desk before him until instruments rattled and wires sang. "But how you are going to catch a fellow when he goes tearing all over the map," said Curlie, more calmly, "is exactly what I don't know. You go down and get a bite of chow. No, go on home and go to bed. I'll take the rest of the shift. I want to think. I think best when I'm alone; when the wires sing me a song; when the air whispers to me out of the night; when the ghosts of dead radio-men, ghosts of operators who joked with death when the sea was reaching up mighty arms to drag them down, come back to talk to me. That's when I think best. These whispering ghosts tell me things. When I sit here all, asleep but my ears, things seem to come to me." "Bah!" said Coles Masters, shivering, "you give me the creeps." Drawing on his coat, he slipped out of the door, leaving Curlie slumped down in his chair already all asleep but his wonderful ears. For a full hour he sat lumped up there. Seeming scarcely to breathe, stirring now and then as in sleep, he continued to listen and to dream. Then suddenly he sat up with a start to exclaim out loud: "Yes! That's it. Catch a thief with a thief. Catch a radiophone with a radiophone. A radiophone on wheels? That's a game two can play at. I'll do it! To-morrow night." Snapping up a telephone receiver he murmured: "Central 662." A moment later he tuned an instrument and threw on a switch; "Weightman there?" he inquired. "Asleep? Wake him up. This is Curlie Carson. Yes, it's important. No, I'll tell you. Don't bother to wake him now--have him over at the Coffee Shop at five bells. The Coffee Shop. He'll know. Don't fail! It's important!" He snapped down the receiver. Weightman was the radio mechanic assigned to his station. He would have unusual and important work to do that day. He slumped down again in his chair but did not remain in that position many minutes. From one of the loud speakers came a persistent whisper: "Hello. Hello, Curlie, you there?" the girlish voice purred, the one that had whispered to him before. "I saw you to-night. That was dangerous. Why did you do it? Nearly got me in bad. Not quite. He almost got you." The whisper ceased. Adjusting the campus coil Curlie sat at strained attention. "I wish I knew you were listening," came again. "It's hard to be whispering into the night and not knowing you're being heard." Curlie's fingers moved nervously over a tuner knob. He was sorely tempted to tune in and flash an answering "O.K.," if nothing more. But, no, he drew his hands resolutely back. It was not wise. There was danger in it. This might be a trap. They might locate his secret tower room by that single O.K. Then disaster would follow. The whisper came again: "You're clever, Curlie, awfully clever. The way you doubled over and turned yourself wrong side out was great! But please do be careful. It's big, Curlie, big!" again the whisper rose almost to speaking tone. "And he is a terribly determined man; wouldn't stop at anything." The whisper ceased. For a moment Curlie sat there lost in reflection, then he muttered savagely: "Oh! get off the air, you little whispering mystery, you're spoiling my technique. Your very terrible friend didn't send any message to-night and the one he sent before hasn't got us into any trouble. I've got to forget you and go after this moving fellow who sends 600." As if in answer to his challenge the loud speaker to his right, the one tuned to 1200, began to rattle. Then, in the full, determined tones of a man accustomed to speak with authority there came: "Calm night." Three times, over five thousand miles of air, this great voice bellowed its message. The silence which followed was ghostly. Cold perspiration stood out on Curlie's brow. It was not necessary for him to calculate the location from which this message was sent. He knew that it had come from the hotel. And it had. "Next thing," he told himself with a groan, "the International Service will be on my back for letting that lion roar. I ought to turn that over to the police; but I won't, not just yet." CHAPTER V IN THE DARK As the clock in a distant college tower struck the hour of eleven the following night, a flat looking car with a powerful engine stole out into the road that ran by the Forest Preserve. It was the Humming Bird. Joe Marion was at the wheel. Curlie sat beside him. On the back of the car was a miscellaneous pile of instruments all securely clamped down. Above there hung suspended between two vertical bars a square frame from which there gleamed the copper wires of a coil. To catch a radiophone on wheels, Curlie had reasoned, one must mount his radio compass on wheels and pursue the offender. How well it would work, he could not even guess, but anything was better than sitting there helpless in the secret tower room listening to this person tearing up the air in a manner both unwise and unlawful. So here they were, prepared to make the test. "Of course," Curlie grumbled, "now we've got the trap set, the ghost may decide not to walk on this particular night. That'll be part of our rotten luck." "Most ghosts, I'm told," chuckled Joe, "prefer to walk when there's someone about, for what's the good of a ghost-walk when there's no one to see. So our radio ghost may show up after all." Curlie lapsed into silence. He was reviewing the events which led up to this thrilling moment. When the message on 600 came banging to his ears with great power on that first night, he had carefully platted the various locations of the person who had sent the messages. There had been some criss-crosses shown but, in the main, a line drawn through these points had formed an oblong which on the actual surface of the ground must have been some ten miles in length by six in width. One interesting point was that the first and last messages of that night had been sent at points not a quarter of a mile apart. "Which goes to show," he reasoned, "that this fellow started from a certain point and made his way back to that point, just as a rabbit will do when chased by a hound. And those two points, the start and the finish, are close to the driveway into the million dollar estate. But of course that doesn't prove that the car came from there. Any person could drive to that point, begin operations, race over the square and return to the point." Coles Masters had platted the points for the second night. A line drawn through these points made a figure quite irregular in form, which was, however, composed of rectangles. "Which proves," he told himself, "that our friend, the lawless radio fan, drives an auto and not an airplane. An auto follows roads, which for the most part in this section form squares. He passed along two or three sides of these squares and this makes up the figure. "There's only one thing in common in the two night journeys," he continued. "The start and finish are at almost exactly the same spot, near the entrance of that great estate." He tried not to allow these facts to cause him to hold undue suspicion against the inhabitants of that mansion, but in this he experienced some difficulty. "The thing for us to do," he had said to Joe, "is to run out there and back our car into an unfrequented, wooded road running into the forest preserve. We don't dare go too near the original starting place. If we're seen with this load of junk it will give us dead away. Thing is to be ready to move quickly when he lets loose with his message. Ought not to be more than a mile away, I'd say. He's got a powerful car. You can tell that by the fact that he sent a message at this corner, then raced over here, four miles distant, and got another message off in eleven minutes, which is quick action." They backed into the grass-grown road of the Forest Preserve, then settled down in their places to wait. The night was dark. There was no moon. Clouds were scurrying overhead. Only the rustle of leaves and the startled tweet-tweet of some bird surprised in his sleep disturbed the utter silence of the woods. "Ghostly," whispered Joe, then he lapsed into silence. With his slim legs stretched out before him, Curlie was soon asleep, all but his ears. Joe insisted that those ears never slept. A half hour, an hour, an hour and a half dragged by. Joe had gone quite to sleep when Curlie suddenly dug him in the ribs and uttered the shrilly whispered warning: "Hist! There she blows!" A flashlight was snapped on. Curlie's fingers flew from instrument to instrument. The voice of the mysterious operator could be heard. Now rising, now falling, it filled the woods with echoes, yet the speaker was more than a mile away, as near as the boys could guess. The words spoken by him were now of no importance. Location was everything. "Same place," exclaimed Curlie, "exactly the same! You know where! Drive like mad!" Instantly the car lurched forward. Coming out of the bush on two wheels, she sent a shower of gravel flying as she rushed madly down the road. Quick as they were, the quarry had been quicker. As they rounded a corner, they caught the red gleam of a tail-light disappearing at the next turn. "Heck!" said Curlie, then, "Let her out! Show him some speed." The motor of the Humming Bird sang joyously. Fairly eating up the road, she took the corner with a wide swing. But when they looked down the long stretch of highway there was no red tail-light to be seen. "Heck!" said Curlie again, "he's reached the next crossroad and turned the corner. Can't tell which way he went. It's a hard, dry gravel roadbed--won't tell a thing. Best we can do is to rattle along up there, then sit it out for another listen-in." Disappointed but not disheartened, Curlie adjusted his instruments, then sat in breathless expectation. He did not have long to wait, for again the voice in the loud speaker boomed out into the night. "Huh," he grumbled a few seconds later, "he's got three miles lead on us. To the right. Quick, give her the gas." Again they were off. For two miles and a half straight ahead they raced. The Humming Bird quivered like a leaf, instruments jingling in spite of their lashings. "Make it all the way," said Curlie, as Joe slowed up. "He's not there. Given us the slip again." Six times this program was gone through with. Not once in all that time did they catch sight of that tail-light. "Some car he's got!" said Curlie when the farce was ended. "Bet he never even guessed he was being chased. But you wait; we'll get him yet." When they were once more in the secret tower room Curlie plotted the route of the mysterious operator. "Only significant thing about that," he commented, when he had finished, "is that he starts and finishes within a quarter of a mile of the same place as on the other two nights." "And that place--" suggested Joe. "Is near old J. Anson's driveway." "Looks mighty suspicious to me," said Joe. "Does to me, too; but, as I have said before, you can't raid a man's private castle on any such flimsy proof as that. You've got to have the goods. "Tell you what," he said after a moment's silence, "sometimes our natural ears and eyes are better than all these instruments and wires. I'm going out there to-morrow night alone and on foot." "Might work," said Joe thoughtfully, "but whatever you do, you must be careful." "Careful?" said Curlie scornfully. "There are times when a fellow can't afford to be careful. This thing's getting serious." He glanced over a second message from the head office of his bureau. It was couched in no gentle terms. He was told that this intruder must be caught and that at once if he, Curlie Carson, wished to hold his position as chief of the secret tower room station. CHAPTER VI A REAL DISCOVERY Darkness found Curlie again on the edge of the Forest Preserve. This time he was on foot and alone. Apparently he carried nothing. His right hip pocket bulged, the handle of a flashlight protruded from his coat pocket, that was all. He did not pause at the spot where they had hid their car the night before, but continued down the main road for a half mile farther. There he plunged into the forest, to continue his journey under cover. Eleven o'clock found him concealed in a clump of bushes in the woods that lay opposite the millionaire's driveway. "If they come to-night," he whispered to himself, "I'll know whether they belong on that estate or not, and if they do I'll know who it is. Anyway, I'll know it's one of J. Anson's folks. And we'll see if it is a boy or the girl?" The question interested him. He had no relish for getting a girl into trouble, especially that frank-faced, smiling girl he had seen on horseback. "But the thing must stop," he told himself sternly, taking a tight grip on something in his hip pocket. The night was clear. He could see objects quite plainly. The trees, the shrubbery, the stone pillars at the entrance to the driveway, stood out in bold relief. For a time he sat staring at them in silence. At last he closed his eyes and slept, as was his custom, all but his ears. He was startled from this stupor by a sudden flash of light which made its presence felt even through his eyelids. As his eyes flew open, he found himself staring at two glowing headlights. The next instant he had flattened himself in the grass. "Wow! Hope they didn't see me!" he whispered. A low-built, powerful car had come purring so quietly down the driveway of the estate that it had rounded a sudden curve before he had been aware of its presence. Now, with undiminished speed, it turned to the right, entered the public highway and sped straight on. As Curlie rose from the grass to stare after it, a low exclamation escaped his lips. Supported by high parallel bars, which were doubtless in turn supported by strong guy wires, were the aerials of a radiophone. The whole of this rose from, and rested upon, the body of the powerful roadster. "And I missed them!" he exploded, then: "No, I didn't. They're stopping." It was true. Some eighty rods down the road the car had slowed up. He had no means of telling what they were doing but felt quite warranted in supposing they were sending a message. Like a flash he was away through the brush. Speed and the utmost caution were necessary. If a limb cracked, if he fell over a hidden ditch, the quarry would be frightened away. He must see what was going on, see it with his own eyes. Fairly holding his breath, he struggled forward. Now he had covered a third of the distance, now half, now three-quarters and now-- His lips parted in an unuttered groan. He leaped out of the bush. Something flashed in his hand. For a second that thing was pointed down the road where the speedy car had suddenly resumed its journey. Then his hand dropped to his side. "No," he said slowly, "it won't do. Too risky. Guess they haven't seen me. If not, they will be back. And next time," he shook his fist at the vanishing car, "next time my fair lad or lady, you won't escape me." Turning back, he again disappeared into the brush. In the meantime things were happening in the air. Coles Masters, who was in charge of the secret tower room, had his hands full. He switched on this loud-speaker and lowered that one to a whisper. He tuned in this one and cut that one out. "Whew!" he exclaimed, mopping his brow, "what a night! Wish Curlie were here." To start the night's entertainment a boy had broken in on the radio concert. Then a crank had come shouting right into the middle of a speech by a politician. A few moments later a message on 1200 had fairly burst his ear-drums. The message had been short, composed of just three words: "Dark, cloudy night." "Regular thunderbolt behind that!" he muttered as he measured the location and found it to come from the city's great hotel. "Enough there to send it round the world. Shouldn't be surprised to get the echo of it in a few seconds myself. The nerve of the man!" In strange contrast to this was the whisper which followed within five minutes. It was sent on 200. "Hello, Curlie. Did you get that? Terrible, wasn't it?" came the whisper. "But, Curlie, I don't think you need to bother about him. He's leaving in a day or two. He's going, far, far away. He's going north; out of your territory entirely. I know you'd love to catch him, Curlie, but it would be dangerous, awfully dangerous! So don't you try, for he is going far, far away." Coles Masters' fingers had worked rapidly during this whispered message. Not only had he measured the distance and taken the location, but he had written down the message word for word. "Well, I'll be jiggered!" he muttered. "That was a girl, a young girl and a pretty one too, or I miss my guess. Anyway she has an interesting whisper. She's at that same hotel and seems to know Curlie. She must have broken in on my 1200 friend. So he's going north? Can't go any too soon for me. Mighty queer case. Have to turn it over to Curlie. It's all Greek to me." "Hello, there! What--" He wheeled about to snap a button. A message was being shouted out on 600. "That's the chap Curlie's after. So he hasn't got him yet? Well, here's hoping he hurries." His pencil began rapidly writing the message. Meanwhile Curlie in his woods retreat had moved silently over to the other side of the driveway. "Probably will come back the other way," he concluded. He did not remain behind the fence this time but threw himself into the shallow depths of a dry ravine. He remained keenly alert. His eyes were constantly on the road, which lay like a brown ribbon a full mile straight before him. He was thinking of his various cases. Equal in interest to the one which he was now hunting down was that big hotel case. He was thinking of the girl. Why had she whispered those messages to him? Was she merely a tool of the man behind the powerful radio machine? Was she simply leading him on? He could not feel that she was. Somehow her whisper had an accent of genuine interest in it. "Wonder what she's like," he asked himself. Then, with a smile playing about his lips, he tried to guess. "Small, very active, has dark brown hair and snappy black eyes." After a moment's thought he chuckled: "Probably really a heavy blonde; something like two hundred pounds. You can't tell anything by a voice. You--" Suddenly he braced himself up on his elbows. His keen ears had caught a distant purring sound. Two yellow balls of fire were rapidly approaching--the headlights of a fast-moving automobile. "He comes! Now for it!" He prepared to spring. In an amazingly short time the car was all but upon him. Leaping to his feet, he let out a wild whoop and, brandishing his automatic threateningly, stood squarely in the middle of the road. His heart beat wildly. There could be no mistake. He saw the wires and rods swaying above the car. For a second the car slowed up, then, with a snort it leaped right at him. Nimble as he was, he barely escaped being run down. As the car flashed past him, he wheeled about and almost instantly his automatic barked three times. Simultaneous with the last shot there came a louder explosion. "Tire! Got you," he muttered. Instantly the car swerved to the side of the road. A tire had gone flat. The car had skidded. The rods which carried the aerials caught in a tree top. The car, jerked back like a mad horse caught by a lariat, reared up on its hind wheels, threatened to turn turtle, then crashed over on its side with its engine still racing wildly. Sudden as had been the catastrophe, it had not been too quick for the driver. Just as the car crashed over, Curlie caught sight of a figure in long linen duster and with closely wrapped head, dashing up the bank, over the fence and into the brush. "Go it," he exclaimed, making no attempt to catch the fugitive, "you know the country better than I do. I'd never catch you in that labyrinth of trees. Besides, I don't need to. Your equipment is pretty well smashed up and you've left me enough evidence to make out a beautiful case." Walking over to the machine, he reached over and shut off the engine. After that, in a very leisurely manner he collected various odds and ends from the radiophone equipment. Having stuffed these into his pockets, he wrenched the back number plate from the machine and tucked it under his arm. "Guess that's enough," he murmured. "Now I can take my own time in springing the thing. He probably thinks I was a hold-up man, but even if he guessed the truth he couldn't escape me and couldn't get his equipment back in shape short of a week, so that's that." Turning, he started toward the nearest interurban line a good five miles away. When he had walked a mile, he stopped suddenly in his track. "Say!" he exclaimed. "Was that the son or the daughter? All muffled up that way I couldn't tell." "Ho, well," he resumed his march, "that'll come out in time. Only I hope it wasn't the girl. I sort of liked her looks." CHAPTER VII CURLIE RECEIVES A SHOCK Having boarded an interurban car, Curlie slept his way into the city. Once there he hurried over to the secret tower room, where the news of his night's adventure was received with great joy. "So you got him!" exclaimed Coles Masters. "Smashed him up right? Bully for you. That's great!" He slapped Curlie on the back. Dropping into his chair, Curlie dictated a message by secret wire to headquarters in New York. The message stated in modest, concise terms that the nuisance on 600 in the secret tower region was at an end; that the station had been effectively broken up and that the offender would no doubt soon be in the hands of the law. A half hour later he received a highly commendatory message, congratulating him on his achievement and bidding him keep up the good work. After glancing over Coles' reports for the evening and making mental notes from them, Curlie prepared to seek his bed and indulge in a good, long sleep, the first in several days. "There isn't a bit of hurry in going after that rich young fellow or girl, if it is a girl," he said to Coles. "That'll keep. We've got plenty of proof." He jerked a thumb toward the corner where was a box into which he had tossed the various small parts of a sending set and the number plate of the car. "All we need to do now is to saunter out there some fine morning and have a heart-to-heart talk with J. Anson himself." Had Curlie but known it, there was to be a great deal more than that to it. There was to be an adventure in it for him such as he had never before experienced, an adventure which was destined to take him thousands of miles from the secret tower room and which was to throw him into such dangers as would cause the bravest to shrink back in terror. Since he was blissfully ignorant of all this he was also blissfully happy in the consciousness of having achieved success in the thing he had undertaken. "This," he laughed as he said it, "is going to bring me face to face with one of America's greatest millionaires. It's like going before a king in some ways. In others I fancy it's more like meeting a lion in the street. Anyway, I've always wanted to meet a king, a lion and a millionaire and here's where I meet one of them. Ever meet one?" He turned to Coles. "Meet which?" Coles smiled. "King, lion or millionaire?" "Millionaire." "No, can't say that I have, though I doubt if we'd either of us recognize one if we should meet him on the street. Someone has said that humanity is everywhere much the same and I fancy that's true even of very rich folks. They may try to bluff you with their power but if they find they can't do that, I guess they'll turn out to have the same dreams, the same hopes and fears, the same joys and sorrows as the rest of us." "Do you think so?" said Curlie thoughtfully. "I hope that's true. It would be a good thing for the world if it were true and if all the people in the world knew it. "Well, good night." He drew on his cap. "See you in about sixteen hours. Guess it'll take me that long to catch up my sleep. After that I'm going after that fellow who's breaking in on 1200, that fellow over at the hotel with the whispering friend, or enemy, whichever she may turn out to be." Had he but known it, it was to be many days before he was to go after that offender on the 1200 meter wave lengths and then it was to be in ways of which he had not yet dreamed. And so he slept. When he awoke after fourteen hours of refreshing sleep, it was to hear the newsies crying their evening papers. For some time he lay there listening to their shrill shouts and attempting to catch what they were saying. "Ex-tree! All about--" He could get that far, probably because he had heard it so often before, but no further could he go. The remainder was a jumble of meaningless sounds. Suddenly, as he listened, a shrill urchin shouted the words out directly beneath his very window: "Wul--ex-tree! All about the mur-der-ed millionaire's son!" "Here! Here!" exclaimed Curlie, thrusting his head out of the window. "What millionaire's son? Give me one of those papers." He tossed the boy a nickel and received a tightly wrapped paper. Sent through the window as if shot from a catapult, it landed with a bump on the floor. His hand trembled so he could scarcely unroll the paper. His head whirled. "Murdered?" he said to himself. "Millionaire's son murdered? Can it be Vincent Ardmore? Did a bullet from my automatic, glancing from the wheel, inflict a mortal wound?" He saw himself behind prison bars in murderer's row. Cold perspiration stood out on his brow as he read in staring headlines: "J. ANSON ARDMORE'S SON BELIEVED MURDERED." "Believed?" He caught at that single word as a camel in a desert snaps at a straw. So they were not sure. Hastily he read the column through, then dropped limply into a chair. "Oh! What a shock!" he breathed. He was vastly relieved. The article stated that the car belonging to the millionaire's son had been found by a laborer employed on the estate as he came to his work very early in the morning. The car, which was badly smashed up, bore the mark of a bullet in a rear tire and one in the lower part of the body. It was believed that the young man, being pursued by bandits and having attempted to escape, had had his car riddled by bullets and had been thrown into the ditch. "There are grave reasons for supposing," the article went on to state, "since no trace of the young man has yet been found, that he has been either kidnapped for ransom or, having been killed by a stray bullet, has been buried somewhere in the forest preserve. "Bands of armed men are searching the woods and every available police officer and detective has been put on the case. A reward of $5,000 has been offered by the father for any information which may lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of his son." "Whew!" exclaimed Curlie, mopping his brow. "What a rumpus!" Suddenly he sat up straight. "Doesn't say one word about that wireless apparatus in the car. How about that?" He sat with wrinkled brow for a moment. "Ah!" he slapped his knee, "I have it! The laborer of course came directly to his master. The shrewd old millionaire, guessing that his son had been breaking radio laws, had all of that equipment removed before the public was let in on the deal. He bribed the laborer to secrecy on that point and there you are." Again his brow wrinkled. "Five thousand dollars!" he whispered. "That's a lot of money. I could supply some valuable information which might entitle me to the five thousand. Question is, do I want to risk it? The thing that's happened is about this, far as I can figure it out: Our young amateur radio friend, when his auto turned turtle, hiked off into the woods. For a time he stayed there. Then, when nothing happened for some time, he came sneaking back. When he found I'd taken his number plate and some parts of his radio equipment, he guessed right away that I was connected with the radio secret service. He's hiding right now, unless I miss my guess, with some of his rich young friends. "I might tell all that and I might get the reward, but supposing something really had happened? Oh, boy, what a mess! "And yet," he mused, after a moment, "I've done nothing to be ashamed of. I'm an officer of the law. I did what I did because a fellow was resisting arrest. Ho, well, I'll just let things stand and simmer. Something may come to the top yet." CHAPTER VIII CURLIE MEETS A MILLIONAIRE It was a tense situation for Curlie. He spent an uneasy night and that in spite of the fact that the air was particularly free from trouble. "Hang it all," he exclaimed once as, dashing the receiver from his head, he sprang from his chair to pace the floor of the secret tower room, "I'd welcome something in the line of trouble. This eternal thinking--thinking--thinking, drives me wild. What to do, that's the question. Suppose I'd ought to go out and tell Ardmore what I know. If a millionaire father's like any other father, I guess he's pretty well wrought up by now. But if I go, and if I tell him the whole truth, I'm as sure as I am of anything that it will get me into a mess and that's the sort of thing I don't like." Glancing down, his eye was caught by Coles' report of the night before. Dropping once more into his chair, he began going through the messages written there. When he came to the one sent out by the boy whose car he had wrecked, he pondered over it for a long time. "'Island, airplane, map, much gold; airplane, map, island, gold,'" he repeated. "What does one make out of that? It might be that this boy has been planning a secret voyage with some other chap. Certainly sounds like it. Other messages were the same kind. By Jove! Perhaps he's skipped out and gone on that trip and is not hiding out at all! Let's see." Taking down a file he drew forth a bunch of message records clipped together. They were those sent by the moving operator on 600, the millionaire's son. A long time he studied over these. "Seems to sort of prove my theory," he muttered once. "Can't be sure though." Then, suddenly he sat up straight. "That's the idea." He slapped his knee. "The very thing! Why didn't I think of that before? If he doesn't shew up by morning I'll do it. I'll just take these records over to Ardmore and suggest to him that they may shed some light on the subject. Don't need to tell him I was in on the wrecking of the car at all. That wouldn't help any. These records might. And if I can help to find him and bring him back, then, oh, boy! Oh you baby fortune! Five thousand big, red, round dollars!" He sat back trying to measure the meaning of the possession of five thousand dollars which did not have to be spent for bed, board and clothing. At last he gave it up in despair. The morning papers assured the interested city that the son of their money king was still missing. To make sure that this report was correct, Curlie called up the mansion and inquired about it. When he learned that it was indeed true, he requested the servant who answered the telephone to inform the millionaire that a representative of the Secret Service of the Air would arrive at his residence with copies of certain radiophone messages sent out by his son previous to his mysterious disappearance, which might shed some light on the subject. Shortly after that he leaped into the driver's seat on the Humming Bird and motored away to the west. Arrived at the Forest Preserve, he backed the car into the deserted roadway in the forest at the very spot where he and Joe had concealed themselves the night of the race. "Have to leave you here, old thing," he whispered. "If a fellow were to pull up that driveway in such a rakish craft as you are, they might think him crazy and throw him out. "Well here goes," he whispered to himself, as, having rounded the last clump of decorative shrubbery, he came in sight of the red stone mansion. "Whew! What a stunner!" whispered Curlie to himself. The sun was tipping the parapets of that mansion with gold; the dew sparkled on the perfectly kept green. It was indeed a beautiful picture. Tiptoeing up the steps, he was about to lift the heavy bronze knocker when a porter opened the door and motioned him to enter. "Are you the man?" he asked in a low tone. "I'm the boy who wired about the messages." "Step right this way. He's waiting." Curlie's heart beat fast. Was he to be ushered at once into the august presence of the magnate? He had pictured to himself hours of waiting, interviews by private secretaries and all that. And yet here he was. In a large room furnished in rich mahogany, seemingly the rich man's home office, he was being greeted by a stout, broad-shouldered, brisk and healthy-looking man who was assuring him that he was speaking to J. Anson Ardmore himself and inviting him to sit down. With his head in a whirl, he managed to get himself into a chair. And all this while he was telling himself things; things like this: "Curlie, old boy, this is going to be strenuous. This man is powerful, magnetic, almost hypnotizing. He will find out as much as he can from you. He will tell as little as is necessary to attain his end. To him all life is a game, a game in which he conceals much and discovers all that lies in his opponent's hand. He probably knows you have the goods on his son. Perhaps he is merely playing a game about this vanishing son. He may know where he is all the time. If so, he'll want to know what you know, and what you are going to do. You must be wise--wise as a serpent." "Well?" the magnate spoke in a brisk way. "My butler tells me you have some messages." "Yes, sir." "Sent by my missing son?" "Yes, sir." "And may I ask," the magnate's face was a mask, not a muscle moved, "how you happened to be in possession of these messages?" Curlie could hear his own heart beat, but he held his ground. "Since I am attached to the government radiophone staff, it is my duty to catch and record all unfair and illegally sent messages, to record them as evidence and for future reference." Curlie fancied he saw the man start. The words that followed were spoken still in a cold, collected tone. "These messages you say were unfair?" "Unfair and illegally sent." "How illegal?" "They were sent with exceedingly high power and on 600 meter wave lengths. Such high power is unlawful for all amateurs and the use of 600 is granted to ships and ship stations alone. "Ah!" For a second the man appeared to reflect. Then suddenly: "We are wasting time. My son has mysteriously disappeared. I have reason to fear foul play. Let me assure you that I know nothing about his whereabouts and, previous to this moment, that I have known nothing regarding these illegally sent messages." "But--" began Curlie. "You doubt my word," his voice grew stern and hard as he read the incredulity in Curlie's eyes. "Young man," he fairly thundered, "fix this in your mind: No man ever has risen or ever will rise to my present position through treachery or deceit. When I say a thing is so, by thunder it _is_ so!" He struck his desk a terrific blow. "But a--" Curlie caught himself just in time. He had been about to reveal the fact that he was aware of the presence of the wireless set in the auto the night the millionaire's son disappeared. "I can't see just how your messages could aid us in finding my son." The magnate spoke more calmly. "However, all things are possible. May I see the copies?" "Of course," said Curlie, hesitatingly, "this is a private matter. Few persons know of our service. It is the desire of the government that they should not know. These are not for publication. Do you understand that?" "You have my word." Curlie passed the sheath of papers over the desk. Slowly, one by one, the great man read them. His movement was not hurried. He digested every word. Like many another great man he had formed the habit of gathering, as far as possible, the full meaning of any set of facts by his own careful research, before allowing his opinion to be influenced by others. He had gone half through the pack when a door over at the right opened and a girl, dressed in some filmy stuff which brought out the smoothness of her neck and arms and the beauty of her complexion, entered the room. Curlie caught his breath. It was the girl he had seen on the horse that morning, the magnate's daughter. She had advanced halfway to her father's desk before she became aware of Curlie's presence. Then she started back with a stammered: "I--I beg your pardon." "It's all right." The first smile Curlie had seen on the great man's face now curved about his mouth. "You may remain. This is no secret chamber." "Fa--father," she faltered, gripping at her throat, "does he know--know anything--about--about Vincent?" "I can't tell yet. I am going over the messages. Please be seated." The girl sank into a deep leather-cushioned chair. Without looking at her Curlie was aware of the fact that she was studying him, perhaps trying to make up her mind where she had seen him before. This made him exceedingly uncomfortable. He was greatly relieved when at last the magnate spoke. "Gladys," he addressed the girl, "did you say you found some sort of map in Vincent's room?" "Oh, yes," she sprang to her feet. "A photograph of a very strange looking map and also one of some queer foreign writing." "Will you run and get those photographs?" "Yes, father." "It's strange," the older man mused after she had gone. "I don't understand it at all. These messages, they are--" "If you please--" Curlie broke in. "Wait!" commanded the other, holding up his hand for silence. "Let us have no opinions before all of the evidence is in. That map may aid us in forming correct conclusions." CHAPTER IX A MYSTERIOUS MAP It was indeed a curious map which had been reproduced on the large photographic print which Gladys Ardmore placed on the desk before her father. Motioning Curlie to come forward and examine it with them, the magnate rose from his chair to bend over the map. As Curlie stood there looking down at it, the girl in her eagerness bent down so close to him that he felt her warm breath on his cheek. Nothing, however, could have drawn his gaze from that map. Wrinkled, torn in places, patched, browned with age, smirched by many finger marks, all of which were faithfully reproduced by the freshly printed photograph, it still gave promise of revealing many a mystery if one could but read it correctly. It showed both land and water. Here on the land was a picture of a castle and there on the water a ship. The shore of the land was not drawn as are maps with which we are in these days familiar, but was cut up in curious geometric forms which surely could not faithfully represent the true lines of the shore. Towns were shown, but only on the shoreline, their names printed in by hand in such small letters as would require a magnifying glass to read them. Crossing and recrossing the water in every conceivable direction were innumerable straight lines. About the edge of the map were eight faces of children. Their cheeks puffed out as if blowing, they appeared to represent the wind that blew from certain quarters. All the writing was in some foreign language. In the lower left-hand corner was what appeared to be the name of the maker but this was so blotted out as to be unreadable. "Huh!" The magnate straightened up. "That's a strange map and appears to be very ancient, but I can hardly see how it is going to help us with our present problem." "There is still the writing," suggested Gladys, turning over the other photograph. "That," said Mr. Ardmore, after a moment's study of it, "is written in some strange tongue and is, I take it, unintelligible to us all." "It's a photograph of the back of the map," suggested Curlie, pointing out certain spots where the wrinkles and tears were the same. "My French teacher will be here at ten o'clock. He knows several languages. Perhaps he could help us," suggested Gladys. "We will leave that to him," said her father. "Now about these messages," he went on, turning to Curlie. "What is your theory?" Stammeringly Curlie proceeded to explain the idea which had come to him, the notion that Vincent Ardmore and some pal of his had been planning a secret trip of some sort. "That is entirely possible," said Ardmore. "Vincent is daring, even rash at times. If some wild fancy leaped into his head, he would attempt anything. Now that you speak of it, I do think there might be something in your theory. Perhaps after all we may get some light from that map and the writing on the back of it. I shall await the coming of the professor with much anxiety." "Father," exclaimed Gladys, "I have seen some such maps as this one at some other place." "Where?" "It was over at that big library, the one you are a director of." "The Newtonian?" "Yes. I was over there once and they showed me a great number of ancient maps. Oh, a very great number, and such strange affairs as they were! There were some similar to this one. I know there were!" "Young man," said the magnate, turning to Curlie, "may I command your services on this matter for the day?" Curlie bowed. "Good! You will not be unrewarded. I am of the opinion that something may be learned by a study of the maps my daughter speaks of. Unfortunately I am engaged; I cannot go to the library. Would it be asking too much were I to request that you accompany her?" Curlie assured him it would not. In his heart of hearts he assured himself that it would be a great privilege. "Very well then, Gladys," the magnate bowed to his daughter, "I suggest that you plan on being back here at eleven. By that time your French teacher may have something to tell us." Bowing to them both, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. As the neat little town car, which was apparently Gladys Ardmore's exclusive property, hurried them away toward the north side library, Curlie had time to think and to steal a look now and then at his fair hostess. Matters had been going rather rapidly of late. He found it difficult to keep up with the march of events. What should be his next move? He was torn between two conflicting interests: his loyalty to the radio secret service bureau and his desire to be of service to this girl and her father. The girl, as he stole a glance at her, appeared disturbed and troubled. There was a tenseness about the lines of her mouth, a droop to her eyelids. "For all the world as if she were in some way to blame for what has happened," he told himself. Instantly the question popped into his mind: "Does she know more than she cares to tell?" He thought of the wireless equipment which had been removed from the wrecked car before the reporters had arrived. The laborer would hardly do that without orders from someone. Who had that someone been? The millionaire had denied all knowledge of the radiophone messages. Curlie believed that he had told the truth. Here was an added mystery. He was revolving this in his mind when the girl spoke: "It must be very interesting listening in." "Listening in?" Curlie feigned ignorance of her meaning. "Yes, isn't that what you do? Listen in on radio all the time?" Curlie started. How did she know? "Why, yes, since you've asked, that is my work." "Where--where--" she hesitated, "is your station?" "That," smiled Curlie, "is a state secret; very few know where it is." "Oh!" she breathed. "A mystery?" Curlie nodded. "Something like that." "I love mysteries," she whispered. "I love to unravel them. Some day I shall surprise you. I shall come walking into that secret room of yours." There was a look on her face that he had not seen there before. It was disturbing. It spoke of a quality which, he concluded, she had inherited from her father, the quality of firmness and determination, which had made him great. "I--I'd rather you wouldn't try," he almost stammered. "Oh! here we are," she exclaimed, "at the library." Leaping out of the car she led the way up the broad steps of an imposing gray stone structure. "Down this way," she whispered, as if awed by the vast fund of knowledge stowed away between those walls. Without further words they made their way within. Ten minutes later they were together bending over a great pile of ancient maps. Done on sheepskin and vellum, gray and brown with age, yet with colors as bright as on the day they were drawn, these maps spoke of an age that was gone and of a map-making art that is lost forever. "Look at this one!" exclaimed the girl. "The date's on it--1450. Made before the days of Columbus. And look! It is like the one Vincent had the photograph of; the most like of any." "Yes, but not the same," said Curlie. "See, those strangely shaped islands in the lower, right-hand corner are not on it; neither are the cherubs blowing to imitate the wind." "That's true," said the girl in a disappointed tone, "I had hoped it might be the same map. It might have told us something." Suddenly Curlie was struck with an idea. Leaving the girl's side, he approached the librarian. "Have any of these maps been photographed recently?" he asked in a low tone. "Not for several years," she answered. "But there are reproductions of these and others. They're in a bound volume in the next room. There the maps are reproduced on a large scale and a description of each is given. The lady in charge will show you." Curlie tiptoed into that room. He was soon turning the pages of a large book which resembled an atlas. After studying each successive page for some time, he came to a halt with a suppressed exclamation. There, staring up at him, was a reproduction of the very map which had been photographed for Vincent Ardmore and, if further proof were lacking, there on the opposite page was a reproduction of the writing on the back of it, with a translation in fine print below. Hurriedly he read this translation through. Twice he paused in utter astonishment. Three times he wrote down a brief note on a scrap of paper. When he had finished, he looked at the lower left-hand corner of the map, then copied some figures reproduced there. Closing the book quickly, as if afraid the girl would find him looking at it, he paused for a second to banish all sign of excitement from his face, then walked leisurely from the room. "Find anything?" he asked in as quiet a tone as he could command. "No," there was a tired and worried look in her eyes. "I'm afraid the map is not here." "By the way," he said in a casual way, "does your brother happen to have a pal living at Landensport on the coast?" "Why, yes," she said quickly, "that's Alfred Brightwood. They were chums in Brimward Academy." "I thought that might be so." "And you think--think--" she faltered. "What we think," he smiled a disarming smile, "doesn't count for much. It's facts which really matter. Excuse me; I'll be back in a moment," he said hurriedly. "Want to telephone." In the booth of the library he conversed long and earnestly with his chief. "Why, yes," came over the phone at last, "I don't see but that you had better finish the thing up. We can't let rich young offenders off easily. It would destroy the service entirely. Go ahead. Coles Masters can handle the station while you are away." The interview ended, he got Joe Marion on the wire. "Joe," he said hurriedly, "throw some of my things into a bag and some of your own with them. Be down at the Lake Shore station at one-fifteen prepared for a short trip. Where to? Oh, New York and then some. It's important and interesting. Be there! Good. Good-bye till then." He snapped down the receiver and hurriedly left the booth. "Shall we go back?" he asked the girl. "I suppose we might as well," she said dejectedly. Then brightening suddenly, "Yes, let's hurry back. Perhaps the professor has found out something from that queer old writing." CHAPTER X THE FIRST LAP OF A LONG JOURNEY On the way back to the Ardmore home both the girl and her escort were silent for some time. Then, turning to her, Curlie asked: "Has this friend of your brother's--Brightwood, did you say his name was?--has he a seaplane?" "Is that an airplane which flies up from the ocean and lights upon it when one wishes it to?" "Yes." "He has one of those. Yes, I'm sure of it. He wanted to take me for a ride out over the sea last summer." "And is he what you would call a daring chap, ready to attempt anything?" "Why, yes, he is; but--but how do you know so many things?" "It is my duty to know." Again he lapsed into silence. On arriving at the estate they found Gladys' father in a strange state of agitation. "Just received a telegram from an old and trusted friend who is on the coast of Maine. He says Vincent has been seen there within the last twenty-four hours. What that can mean I haven't the faintest notion. I should go there at once but business makes it entirely impossible." "Under one condition," said Curlie soberly, "I will go East and attempt to bring your son home. Indeed, I shall go anyway; have already arranged transportation, in fact, and leave in two hours; but it would please me if I might go with your approval." "You have arranged to go?" The older man's face expressed his astonishment. "For what purpose?" "On a commission for the government." "And you wish my permission for what?" "To bring your son back with a warrant, under arrest." The older man looked at Curlie for a moment as if to discover whether or not he was joking. "Young man," he said slowly, "do you know who I am?" "You are J. Anson Ardmore, one of the richest men of the Middle West." "And do you know that I could crush you with my influence?" "No, sir, I do not." Curlie drew himself up to his full height. "Those days are gone forever. I am part of the United States government, the government which has made it possible for you to gain your wealth. Her laws must be obeyed. You could not crush me and, what is still more important, you have no notion of doing so." "What?" The magnate's face became a study, then it broke into a smile. "I like your spirit," he said seizing Curlie's hand in a viselike grip. "You have the power of the law behind you; you need no consent of mine. But so be it; if my son has broken the law, he shall suffer the penalty." "There is one other matter," said Curlie soberly. "At the present moment it is merely a theory. I am unable to offer any worth-while proof for it, but it is my belief that your son and his chum, Alfred Brightwood, are considering a very perilous seaplane journey. Indeed, they may even at this moment be on their way. If that is true they should be followed at once in some swift traveling vessel, for they are almost certain to meet with disaster." "That Brightwood boy will be the death of us all yet," exploded the father. "For sheer foolhardy daring I have never known his equal. Time and again I have attempted to persuade Vincent to give up associating with him, but it has been of no avail. Alfred appears to hold some strange hypnotic power over him." For a moment he stood there in silence. When he spoke he was again the sober, thoughtful business man. "If what you say is true, and you find that they have already departed on this supposed journey, my private yacht is at your disposal. It lies in the mouth of the river at Landensport. The captain and engineer are on board. You will need no further crew. She is the fastest private engine-driven yacht afloat. If necessity demands, do not hesitate risking her destruction, but you will not, of course, endanger your own life." "All right; then I guess everything is settled. You will wire instructions to the captain of the yacht. I must hurry to my train." Curlie hastened from the room. Joe was awaiting Curlie at the depot. Filled with an eager desire to know what was to be the nature of this new adventure, he could wait scarcely long enough to buy tickets, reserve sleeper berths, and to board the train before demanding full details. The train was a trifle slow in pulling out. As he outlined the situation to Joe, Curlie kept an eye out of the window. Once he caught sight of a slight girlish figure which seemed familiar. He could not be sure, so heavily veiled was her face. He had quite forgotten the incident when, a few hours later, he entered the diner for his evening lunch. What then was his surprise, on entering, to see Gladys Ardmore calmly seated at a table and nibbling at a bun. She motioned him to a seat opposite her. "You didn't expect to have me for a fellow-passenger, did you?" she smiled. Curlie shook his head. "Well, I didn't expect to go until the last moment. Then the professor came with the translation of the writing on the map all written out. Father thought you should have it, so he sent me with it. I arrived just in time and decided all at once that I ought to--Oh, that I wanted--that I _must_ go with you." There was a pathetic catch in her voice that went straight to Curlie's heart. "After all," he told himself, "he's her brother and that means a lot." When he looked at her the next moment he discovered there the strangely determined look which was so like her father's, and which he had seen once before on her face. "Here is the translation," she said simply as she passed over a roll of paper. "Order your dinner; we will have plenty of time to look over the papers later." "She's a most determined and composed little piece of humanity," was Curlie's mental comment. "I don't like her following me, but since she's here I suppose I better make the best of it!" Had he known how far she would follow him and what adventures she was destined to share with him, he might have been tempted to wire her father to call her back. Since he did not know, he ordered meat-pie, French fried potatoes, English tea biscuits, cocoa and apple pie, then settled himself down to talk of trivial matters until the meal was over. When at last he saw the waiter remove the girl's finger bowl, Curlie put out his hand for the paper. The hand trembled a trifle. Truth was, he was more eager than he was willing to admit to read the French teacher's translation of the writing on the back of the map. Now as he held it in his hand one question came to the forefront in his mind: Was this photograph a reproduction of the map that had looked so much like it, the one in the great volume at the library? The translation would dear up that point. But then it might not be, he reasoned. The book said that the original of this map had belonged to an English lord something like a hundred years ago; that it had disappeared and nothing had been heard of it since. "The professor said," smiled the girl, a trifle anxiously, "that the writing was in very, very old Spanish and for that reason he might not have understood every word of it correctly but that taking it all in all he thought he had made the meaning clear." "We'll have a look," said Curlie, unfolding the paper. "He said it was the photograph of a very unusual manuscript, rare and valuable." There was something about the way the girl said this which led Curlie to guess that she might know who was in possession of the original. He was, however, too much excited over the first lines of the translation to ask her any questions. "The Island of Lagos." He read the title to himself. Beneath this in brackets were the words: "Being the account of how the good ship Torence was cast ashore on an unknown island in the midst of the great sea; an island whereon there are many barbarians having much gold." Curlie caught his breath. Save for one word the translation was the same as that he had read in the book. That word was of no consequence. "It's the same map!" he told himself. "The very same!" The girl, leaning over the table, watched him eagerly. She was both excited and elated over the find. "Isn't it wonderful?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. "I think it's great! And to think that my brother and his chum were the ones who found it!" "Haven't read it all," Curlie mumbled. "Then read on. Read it all. Please do." CHAPTER XI "MANY BARBARIANS AND MUCH GOLD" Curlie, obeying her instructions, read on and with every line his conviction grew stronger that the conclusions he had come to were well formed. This is what he read: "Having spent Good Friday with his family, our captain, deeming further delay but loss of time, determined to cast anchor and sail for the coast of Ireland. Here he hoped to do a brisk business at barter with the peasants and fisher-folk who inhabit the shores. "But Providence had determined otherwise. Hardly had we been from shore a half day's journey, when, without warning, from out the night there rose a great tumult. This tumult, coming as it did from the shore, grasped us in its mighty arms and hurled us league by league in directions that we would not go. And being exceedingly tossed with the tempest we lightened the ship. On the fourth day we, with our own hand, cast out the tackle of the ship. And when not sun nor moon nor stars had appeared for many days, we counted ourselves for lost; for, having been carried straight away these many days, we expected nothing but that we would come soon to that dark and dreadful place which is the end of all land and all seas." "Isn't it wonderful?" whispered the girl. Curlie was too much absorbed to answer her. "When we had given up all hope," he read on, "Markus Laplone, a very old seaman, said we were nearing some land. "We took soundings and found it forty fathoms. Then again it was thirty. Then with hopeful hearts we looked for that land. But when at last it broke through the fog it was no land that any of the men had seen, no, not the oldest seaman. "But fearing to be cast upon rocks, we kept a good watch that we might find some harbor. At last we were rewarded, for to the right of us there was a river flowing into the sea. "The storm having somewhat abated, we took oars, such as had not been broken by the storm, and some with two men to the oar and some with but one, we made shift to enter this river; having accomplished which, we dropped anchor and gave thanks to God for the preservation of our lives. "Now, on coming on shore we found this to be indeed a strange land. Not alone were the trees and all vegetation of a sort unknown to us, but the barbarians who came about us were of a complexion such as not one man of us had ever before beheld. "And, what was more astounding, as we made a fire to cook us food, there passed by us bearing on their backs strangely woven baskets, a caravan of these half-naked barbarians. And, when we motioned to show them we would see within his basket, one of these lowered his basket. "What we saw astounded us much, for it was all filled with finely-beaten gold. The fellow had as much of it as a stout sailor would be able to carry. And there were many such baskets. "When I made as though I would take the gold, he became very angry, and would have struck me down with an ugly spear which he bore. "But when I laughed, making as though it were a joke, he gave me a small piece, the which is at this time in my possession, as proof that what I have written here is truth and no lie. "Now this island I have shown on the map, the nether side upon which I am writing, as a star with six points to it; though the shore marking nor the extent of the island is as yet unknown to any but those barbarians who live upon it." There ended the main portion of the story, but in a bracket at the bottom was written: "In some other place will be found the account of our miraculous return from this strange and mysterious island of many barbarians and much gold." As Curlie finished, he glanced up with a sigh. The girl was staring at him so intently that he could not but think she was attempting to read his thoughts. "Isn't it wonderful?" she breathed at last. "Yes," said Curlie quickly, "you expressed it even better before. It's great!" He looked away. His head was in a whirl It was the long-lost map; he was sure of that now. He remembered the figures he had copied from that other reproduction. They were blurred and unreadable on this one. Should he tell her? His lips opened but no sound came out. No, he would not tell her, not at this time. There might be some other way. "Your brother and his chum," he said evenly, "have gone in search of that island of gold." She stared at him in silence. "If they haven't gone already, they may be gone before we reach the coast," he continued. "They will probably go in Alfred Brightwood's seaplane." "Yes, yes," she broke her spell of silence. "That is the way they would go. It's--it's a wonderful plane! You--you don't think anything could happen to them, do you?" "Supposing they do not find the island?" "But they will." "It is to be hoped that they will find an island--some island." "It's a wonderful plane. It would cross the Atlantic!" She clasped and unclasped her hands. "But supposing," he rose from his chair in his excitement, "supposing they don't find the island exactly where they expect to find it? Supposing, in their eagerness to find that gold, they circle and circle and circle in search of the island until there is no longer any gas in the tank to bring them home." "Oh, you don't think that!" She sprang to her feet and, gripping his arm to steady herself, looked up into his eyes. There was a heartbreaking appeal in those blue eyes of hers. "I think," said Curlie steadily, "that my pal, Joe Marion, and I, if we find them gone when we get there, will take your father's speedy yacht and go for a little pleasure trip in the general direction they have taken. Then if they chance to get into trouble, we can give them a lift. Besides," there came a twinkle in his eye, which was wholly lost on the girl, "they might need the yacht to carry home the gold." "Oh, will you?" she exclaimed, gripping his arm until it hurt. "That will be grand of you. For you know," she faltered, "I--I feel a little bit responsible for what they have done and if anything should happen I could never forgive myself. I--I'll tell you about it some time." For a moment they stood there in silence, she steadying herself from the rock of the train by clinging to his arm. "I think," she said soberly, "if you go in father's yacht, that I shall go along with you." "And I think," said Curlie in a decided tone, "that you won't." She said not another word but had he taken a look at her face just then he would have found there the expression that he had seen there before, the expression which she had inherited from her father, the self-made millionaire. That night in his berth, as the train rushed along on its eastward journey, Curlie narrated to Joe Marion all the events which had led up to the present moment, and as much of his conclusions as he had told to Gladys Ardmore. "So you see, Joe, old boy," he concluded, "if those young millionaires are away before we arrive we're destined to take a little trip which may have an adventure or two in it; that is, at least I will." "Count me in," said Joe soberly. "I go anywhere you do." "Good!" exclaimed Curlie, gripping his hand. "And in the end," he concluded, "I think we shall have told the world in a rather effective way that the air must be free for the important messages; that Uncle Sam has the right of way in the air as well as on land or sea and that he has ways of defending those rights." At that they turned over, to lie there listening to the click-click of wheels over rails until sleep claimed them. CHAPTER XII OUT TO SEA IN A COCKLESHELL Darkness was falling when at last Curlie and Joe reached the station at Landensport. In spite of the fact that they had had no supper and were weary from travel, Curlie insisted on going at once to the hangar where the _Stormy Petrel_, Alfred Brightwood's seaplane, was kept. "Yes," said the keeper of the hangar, "they hopped off six hours ago. Seemed to be preparing for somethin' of a journey; they filled the tanks with gas and loaded her cabin full of things to eat. Some sort of a picnic, I reckon. Strange part of it was," he said reflectively, "I watched 'em as they went and sure's I'm standin' here they shot out to sea, straight as an arrow, and far as you could see 'em they was going right on. Couldn't be tryin' to cross the Atlantic, but you can never tell what'll get into that Brightwood boy's head. He's darin', he is. Jest some picnic, though, I reckon." "Some picnic all right!" said Curlie emphatically. "Some picnic for all of us!" "Eh? What?" the keeper turned on him quickly. Curlie did not answer. "Vincent Ardmore went with him, I suppose," Curlie said after a moment's silence. "Of course. Just them two." "Was the plane equipped with wireless?" "Yes. They spent two days tending to that; seemed to be mighty particular about it." "Yes, of course they would." "Eh? What?" the man turned sharply about. Curlie was silent again. "It's funny about them wireless rigs for a plane," said the keeper at last. "You git your ground by hanging a wire seventy-five er a hundred feet down from the plane, then you get ground just the same as if the wire was dragging through the sea, don't matter whether you're up a hundred miles or five thousand. Strange stuff, this radio." "Yes," said Curlie, "it is. By the way," he exclaimed suddenly, "do you know about this new Packard-Prentiss equipment?" "Yes, sir; was tryin' one out only yesterday. Fine thing." "Reliable?" "Absolutely." "Know where I can get one?" "Over at Dorrotey's sea-goods store on the dock. He's got one er two for sale." "Thanks." He and Joe started away. "Next place is Dock No. 3. The _Kittlewake_, the Ardmore yacht, is tied up over there. Unless I miss my guess we'll be off to sea in less than two hours," said Curlie to Joe. "Speed's the word now. Those two young dreamers have gotten away by plane. We've got to stand by in the _Kittlewake_ or they'll never be seen again. I don't propose to allow the sea to rob me of my first important offender against the laws of the air." "By the way," said Joe, "where is Gladys Ardmore? I haven't seen her since we left New York." "I don't know and I'm glad I don't," said Curlie. "She let fall a remark in the dining car that I didn't like. She said she thought she'd go along with us on this trip. A five hundred mile trip straight out to sea in a fifty-foot pleasure yacht with a fifteen-foot beam, is no sort of trip for a girl. I was afraid she'd try to insist. That would have caused a scene, for unless I miss my guess she's the determined sort like her father." "It's queer she gave us up so quickly." "Yes, but I'm glad she did." Suddenly Curlie started. As they rounded a corner he caught sight of a trim, slender figure. This girl had been standing in the light of a shop window. Now she dodged inside. "Huh!" he grunted. "Thought that looked like her, but of course it couldn't be. Some ship captain's daughter probably." They arrived on board the _Kittlewake_ just as the captain, a red-faced old British salt, and the engineer, a silent man who was fully as slim and wiry of build as Curlie himself, were finishing lunch. "Pardon me," said Curlie, "but did you get Mr. Ardmore's wire?" "You're this wireless man, Curlie Carson?" asked the captain. "Yes." "'Is message is 'ere; came this morning." "Then you're ready to put off at once." "At once!" The captain stared his amazement. "'Ere it is night. At once, 'e says!" "It's very necessary that we go at once," said Curlie firmly, "and I believe you have your orders." "To be hat your service in hevery particular." "All right then, we must be on our way in an hour." "Wot course?" The skipper rose to his feet. "This is the point we must reach with all speed," said Curlie, drawing the photograph of the mysterious old map from his pocket and pointing to the star near the center. "Compare that with your own chart, locate it as well as you can and then mark out your own course." The skipper stared at him as though he thought Curlie crazy. "That! Why that--" Turning quickly, he disappeared up the hatch, to return presently with a chart. This he placed upon the table, beside the photograph. After five minutes of close study he turned an astonished face upon the boy. "That, as I 'ave thought, is five 'undred miles hout to sea. Five 'undred miles in a cockleshell. Man, you're daft." "All right," said Curlie; "the trip's got to be made. I thought you might be afraid to undertake it; that's why I wanted to know at once. I'll go out and hunt another skipper. There's surely plenty of them idle these dull times." "Hafraid, did 'e say! Me! Hafraid!" The skipper was purple with rage. "Hafraid 'e says. 'E says it, a bloomin' Yankee kid, an' me as 'as 'ad ships sunk under me twice by the bloody German submarines! Me, Captain Jarvis, hafraid." He turned suddenly upon Curlie. "Go git yer togs an' shake a leg er the bloomin' _Kittlewake_'ll be off without you on board." "That's the talk!" smiled Curlie. "Never fear! We'll be here." He turned to Joe. "You go ashore and buy us each a suit of roughing-it things, a so'-wester and the like. We'll need 'em. I'll be back in less than an hour." When Curlie returned from his mission ashore he carried but one bundle. That resembled a fencepost in size and shape. It was carefully wrapped and sealed in sticky black tar cloth. "Going to throw a message overboard in case we're lost, I suppose," laughed Joe. "Something like that," Curlie laughed back. Nevertheless, he carried the thing with great care to his stateroom and deposited it beneath his berth in the cabin forward on the main deck. An hour later the two boys were standing on deck watching the shore lights fade. Each was busy with his own thoughts and wondering, no doubt, in his own way how much of adventure this trip held for him. CHAPTER XIII A GHOST WALKS "Ever take much interest in gasoline engines?" Curlie suddenly inquired of Joe. "Yes, quite a bit; had a shift on one of those marine kinds last summer on the Great Lakes." "Good! You'll have to take a shift here on the _Kittlewake_. This trip can't be made without sleep. I'll spell the captain at the wheel and you can relieve that lanky engineer." Again they lapsed into silence. Half unconsciously each boy was taking stock of the craft they had requisitioned, trying to judge whether or not she was equal to the task she had been put to. Speed she had in plenty. "Do forty knots a 'our," the skipper put it, "an' never 'eat a bearin'." She was a trim craft. Narrow of beam, a two-master with a steel hull that stood well out of the water forward, she rode the water with the repose and high glee of the bird she was named after. "Yes, she's a beauty, and a go-getter," Curlie was thinking to himself, "but in a storm, now, four or five hundred miles from land, what then?" Had he known how soon his question was to be answered he might well have shuddered. "Better go down and have a look at the engines before you turn in for a wink of sleep," he told Joe. When Joe had gone below, Curlie still sat there on the rail aft. The throb of the engines beneath him, the rapid rush of air that fanned his cheek, was medicine to his weary brain. He had been caught in a whirlwind of events and here, for a time, he had been cast down in a quiet place where his mind might clear itself of the wreckage of thought that had been torn up and strewn about within it. It had been a wild race. He had lost thus far; would he lose in the end? Had he, after all, trusted too much to theory? Had these two sons of rich men really only gone for some picnic trip to a well-known island farther south along the coast? Or had they, as he had assumed, guided by their ancient map, gone in search of the island of "many barbarians and much gold," an island which he was convinced existed only in name? The girl, too; what had she meant when she said she was in some ways responsible for her brother's actions? There was something queer about the whole affair. Who had taken the wireless equipment from the wrecked car out there by the Forest Preserve? Did young Ardmore have the ancient original of that interesting map or only the photograph? If he did not have it, who was in possession of it? Strange thing that it would be lost for a hundred years only to have a brand-new photograph of it show up all at once. Rather ghostly, he thought. He had meant to ask Gladys Ardmore about that. He'd ask her now if she were here. But he was more than glad she was not here. "No trip for a girl," he told himself, "and she said she'd go. Strange she gave it up so easily. Strange that--" His thoughts broke off suddenly as he stared forward. The _Kittlewake_ was equipped with three cabins; a forecastle and aftercabin, both below the main deck, built largely for stormy weather, and a fair-weather cabin in the center of the main deck. The night was dark, the moon not having come up. It was difficult to distinguish objects at a distance, but, unless his eyes deceived him, Curlie saw some object, all white and ghostly, rising slowly from the hatchway leading to the forecastle. Cold perspiration sprang out upon his brow, his heart beat madly, his knees trembled as he involuntarily moved forward. That was the way he had of treating ghosts; he walked straight at them. In the meantime, had one been on some craft three hundred miles farther on in the direct course of the _Kittlewake_, he might have caught the thunderous drumming of two powerful Liberty motors. He might also have seen a spot of light playing constantly upon the black waters. While this light was constant, it moved rapidly forward in a wide circle. The circle was never the same in size or location, yet the spot of light did not move more than twenty miles in any direction from a certain given center. The spot of illumination came from a powerful searchlight mounted upon a seaplane. It was manipulated by a boy in the rear seat. A second boy drove the plane. These boys, as you have no doubt long since guessed, were Vincent Ardmore and his reckless pal, Alfred Brightwood. This light had been playing upon the water since darkness had fallen, some three hours before. They had been circling for four hours. Their hopes of completing their search before dark had been thwarted by a defective engine which had compelled them to make a landing upon the sea when the journey was only half completed. At this particular moment the plane was climbing steadily. It was a perfect "man-bird" of the air, was this _Stormy Petrel_. With broad spreading planes and powerful motors, it was the type of plane that now and again hops off from some point in England during the dewy morning hours and carries her crew safely to Cuba without a single stop. Yet these boys were not planning a trip across to Europe. They were, as Curlie had supposed they might be, hunting for the island of "many barbarians and much gold." When they had mounted to a considerable height, Alfred shut off the engines and allowed her to volplane toward the sea. "Aw, let's give it up and get back," said Vincent downheartedly. "It's not here. Probably that old map-maker made a mistake of a trifling hundred miles or so." "That's a grand idea!" exclaimed Brightwood, grasping at a straw. "Not a hundred miles but perhaps thirty or forty miles. Old boy, we'll be cooking lunch on a stove of pure gold in half an hour. You'll see! Just get your light fixed right and I'll take a wider circle. That'll get it." "But if we use up much more gas we won't get back to land," hesitated Vincent. "Land! Who wants to get back to land!" the other exploded. "If worst comes to worst we've got the wireless, haven't we? We can light on the water and send out an S. O. S., can't we? I must say you're a mighty bum sailor." "Oh, all right," said Vincent, stung into silence, "go ahead and try it." Again the motors thundered. Again the spot light traced a circular path across the dark waters, which to the boy who held the light, appeared to be reaching up black, fiendish hands to drag them down. This time the circle they cut was many miles in circumference, miles which drew deeply from the supply of gasoline in their tanks. CHAPTER XIV THE COMING STORM As Curlie's feet carried him forward on the deck of the _Kittlewake_, his eyes beheld the ghost which rose from the hatch taking on a familiar form. A white middy blouse, short white skirt and a white tarn, worn by a slender girl, moved forward to meet him. As the form came into the square of light cast by a cabin window, his lips framed her name: "Gladys Ardmore!" "Why, yes," she smiled, "didn't you expect me? I told you I thought I'd go." "And I said you should not." Her coolness angered him. "You forget that this is my father's boat. A man's daughter should always be a welcome guest on his boat." "But--but that's not it," he hesitated. "This is not a pleasure trip. We are going five hundred miles straight to sea in a boat intended for shore travel. It's likely to storm." He sniffed the air and held his cheek to the breeze that was already breaking the water into little choppy waves. "It is going to be dangerous." "But you are going," she said soberly, "to the assistance of my brother. I have a better right than you to risk my life to save my own brother. I can be of assistance to you. Truly, I can. I can be the galley cook." "You a cook?" He looked his surprise. "Certainly. Do you think a rich man's daughter can do nothing but play tennis and pour tea? Those times are gone, if indeed they ever existed. I am as able to do things as is your sister, if you have one." "But," said Curlie suddenly, "I am going from a sense of duty. Having set out to have your brother arrested I mean to do it." For a full moment she stared at him stupefied. Then she said slowly, through set, white lips: "You wouldn't do that?" "Why shouldn't I?" His tone was more gentle. "He has broken the laws of the air. Time and again he sent messages on 600, a radio wave length reserved to coast and ship service alone. He has hindered sea traffic and once narrowly escaped being the death of brave men at sea." "Oh," she breathed, sinking down upon a coil of cable, "I--didn't know it was as bad as that. And I--I--knew all about it. I--I--" She did not finish but sat there staring at him. At last she spoke again. Her tone was strained and husky with emotion. "You--you'll want to arrest me too when you know the truth." "You'll not be dragged into it unless you insist." "But I do insist!" She sprang to her feet. Her nails digging into her clenched fists, she faced him. Her eyes were bright and terrible. "Do you think," she fairly screamed, "that I would be part of a thing that was wrong, whether I knew it or not at the time, and then when trouble came from it, do you think that I would sneak out of it and allow someone else to suffer for it? Do you think I'd sneak out of it because anyone would let me--because I am a girl?" Completely at a loss to know what to do upon this turn of events, Curlie stood there staring back at the girl. She at last sank back upon her seat. Curlie took three turns around the deck. At last he approached her with a steady step. "Miss Ardmore," he said, taking off his cap, "I apologize. I--I really didn't know that a girl could be that kind of a real sport." Before she could answer he hurried on: "For the time being we can let the matter we were just speaking of rest. Matters far more important than the vindicating of the law, important as that always is, are before us. Your brother and his friend, unless I am mistaken, are in grave danger. We may be able to save them; we may not. We can but try and this trial requires all our wisdom and strength. "More than that," he again held his face to the stiffening gale, "we ourselves are in considerable danger. Whether this 'cockleshell,' as the skipper calls her, can weather a severe storm on the open sea, is a question. That question is to be answered within a few hours. We're in for a blow. We're too far on our way to retreat if we wished to. We must weather it. You can be of assistance to us as you suggest, and more than that, you can help us by being brave, fearless and hopeful. May we count on you?" There was a cold, brave smile on the girl's face as she answered: "You know my father. He has never yet been beaten. I am his child." Then suddenly, casting all reserve aside, she gripped his arm and bestowing a warm smile upon him said almost in a whisper: "Curlie Carson, I like you. You're real, the realest person I ever knew." Then turning swiftly about, she danced along the deck, to disappear down the hatch to the forecastle. "Huh!" said Curlie, after a moment's thought, "I never could make out what girls are like. But one thing I'm sure of: that one will drown or starve or freeze when necessity demands it, without a murmur. You can count on her!" Throwing a swift glance to where a thick bank of clouds was painting the night sky the color of blue-black ink, he hurried below to consult with the skipper about the weather. They were, he concluded, some three hundred and fifty miles out to sea. If this storm meant grave dangers to them, what must it mean to two boys in a seaplane skimming through the air over the sea? He shivered at the thought. Fifteen minutes later, Curlie was in the small wireless cabin of the _Kittlewake_. With a receiver clamped over his head, with a motor purring at his feet and with the hum of wires and coils all about him, he felt more at ease and at home than he had been for many hours. His talk with the skipper had confirmed his fears; they were in for a blow. "A nor'-easter, sir," he had affirmed, "an' one you'll remember for many a day. Oh! we'll weather 'er, sir; somehow we'll 'ave to weather 'er. With the millionaire heiress aboard we'll 'ave to, worse luck for it. We'll 'ammer down the 'atches an' let 'er ride if we 'ave to but it's a jolly 'ard shaking habout we'll get, sir. But she's a 'arty, clean-hulled little boat, she is, an' she'll ride 'er some'ow." After receiving this information, Curlie had gone directly to the wireless cabin. He was more anxious than he was willing to admit for the safety of his two charges, the millionaire's children; for Curlie did think of them as his charges. He was used to taking burdens on his own shoulders. It had always been his way. Just now he was listening in on 600, ready to pick up any message which might come from the boys on the seaplane. That the _Stormy Petrel_ was a doomed aircraft he had not the least doubt. The only question which remained in his mind was whether the _Kittlewake_ or some other craft would reach her in time to save the two reckless boys. Now and again as he listened he picked up a message from shore. The center of the storm, which was fast approaching, was to the east, off shore. Messages coming from the storm's direction would be greatly disturbed by static. But to the west the air was still clear. Now he heard a ship off Long Island Sound speaking for a pilot; now some shore station at Boston assigned to some ship a harbor space; and now some powerful broadcasting station sent out to all the world a warning against the rising storm. Tiring of all this, for a time he tuned his instrument to 200. "Be interesting to see how far short wave lengths and high power will carry," was his mental comment. Now he caught a faint echo of a song; now a note of laughter; and now the serious tones of some man speaking with his homefolks. But what was this? He fancied he caught a familiar whisper. Adjusting his wires, adding all the amplifying power his instruments possessed, he listened eagerly; then, to his astonishment heard his own nickname spoken. "Hello, Curlie," came to him distinctly. Then, "Are you there? You remember that big bad man, the one who used heaps of power on 1200? Well, he's gone north--very far north. You'd want to follow him, Curlie, if you knew what I know. The radiophone is going to do great things for the north, Curlie. But men like him will spoil it all. Remember this, Curlie: If you do go, be careful. Careful. He's a bad man and the stakes are big!" The whisper ceased. The silence that followed it was ghostly. "And that," Curlie whispered softly, "came all the way from my dear old home town. She thought I was still in the secret tower room. Fine chance of my following that fellow up north. But when I get back I'll investigate. There may be something big there, just as she says there is. Yes, I'll look into it when I get back--if I do get back." He shivered as he caught the howl of the wind in the rigging. Then, tuning his instrument back to 600, he listened once more for some message from the seaplane, the _Stormy Petrel_. CHAPTER XV S. O. S. The spot of light which raced across the waters of the sea where no land was to be seen, where the black surface of the swiftly changing waters shone always beneath the occupants of the seaplane, took on an ever widening circle. There appeared to be no end to Alfred Brightwood's belief that somewhere in the midst of all this waste of waters there was an island. Vincent Ardmore had long since given up hope of becoming rich by this mad adventure. His only hope, the one that gave strength to his arms benumbed by long clinging to the flashlight and new sight to his eyes, weary with watching, was that they might discover some bit of land, a coral island, perhaps, where they might find refuge from the sea until a craft, called to their aid, might rescue them. The thought of returning to the mainland he had all but abandoned. The gas in the tank was too low for that; at least he was quite certain it must be. There was a chance, of course, that if they alighted upon the water and sent out an S. O. S., the international call for aid, they would be answered by some near-by ship. But this seemed only a remote possibility. He dared not hope it would happen. They were far from any regular course of trans-Atlantic vessels and too far from shore to be picked up by a coast vessel or a fishing smack. The very fact that this island, marked so plainly on the ancient map, had been in this particular spot, so remote from the main sea-roads, had strengthened their belief that during all the centuries of travel it had been lost from man's memory and hidden from his view. Now this very isolation, since they were unable to locate this island, if indeed it existed at all, threatened to be their undoing. Still they circled and circled with great, untiring sweeps. At last, releasing the searchlight, Vincent put his lips to a speaking tube. "Let's light," he grumbled. "I'm dead. What's the use?" "What else can we do but keep looking?" Alfred answered. "Take a look at the gas. Maybe it will carry us back." Even as he spoke, a strange thing happened. The air appeared suddenly to have dropped from beneath the plane. Straight down for fifty feet she dropped. With the utmost difficulty Alfred succeeded in preventing her from taking a nose dive into the sea. "She--she bumped," he managed to pant at last. "Something the matter with the air." And indeed there was something about the atmospheric conditions which they had not sensed. Busy as they had been they had not seen the black bank of clouds to the northeast of them. With the wild rush of air from sheer speed, they had not felt the increasing strength of the gale. Once Vincent had fancied that the sea, far beneath them, seemed disturbed, but so far beneath them was it that he could not tell. Now in surprise and consternation, as if to steady his reeling brain, he gripped the fuselage beside him while he shrilled into the tube: "Look! Look over there! Lightning!" "Watch out, I'm going down," warned the other boy. "Going to light." To do this was no easy task. Three times they swooped low, to skim along just over the crest of the waves, only to tilt upward again. "Looks bad," grumbled the young pilot. The fourth time, he dared it. With the spray spattering his goggles, he sent the plane right into the midst of it. For a second it seemed that nothing could save them, that the wave they had nose-dived into would throw their plane end for end and land her on her back, with her two occupants hopeless prisoners strapped head down to drown beneath her. But at last the powerful motors conquered and, tossed by the ever increasing swells, the plane rode the sea like the stormy petrel after which she had been named. "Quick!" exclaimed Alfred as the motors ceased to throb. "Strip off your harness and get back to the tank." A moment later Vincent was making a perilous journey to the gas tank. Twice the wind all but swept him into the sea; once a wave drenched him with its chilling waters. When at last he reached his destination it was only to utter a groan; more gas had been used than he had dared think. "Can't--can't make it," he mumbled as he struggled back to his place. "Have to send out an S. O. S. then. What wave length do you use? "You ought to know," exclaimed Vincent almost savagely. "You were the one who insisted on using it when we were making up our plans." "Six hundred? Oh, yes," Alfred said indifferently. "Well, what of it?" "Just this much of it," said Vincent thoughtfully. "I've been going over and over it in my mind the last little while. What if we send out our S. O. S. now and some selfish landlubber such as we were is talking about matters of little importance and muddles our message? We might be left to drown." "Aw, can that sob stuff," grumbled Alfred angrily. "Are you going to send that S. O. S. or am I?" "I will," said Vincent, preparing to climb to a position on the plane above him where the radiophone was located. "But"--he suddenly began to sway dizzily--"but where are we?" He sank back into his seat. For a full moment, with the waves tossing the plane about and the black clouds mounting higher and higher, the two boys stared at one another in silence. Yes, where were they? Who could tell? They were not trained mariners. They could not have taken a reckoning even had they been in possession of the needed instruments. "Why," said Alfred hesitatingly, "we must be somewhere near that spot where the island was supposed to be located. That's as near as we can come to it. Send out that latitude and longitude; then we'll climb back into the air. We'll be safer there than on the water and we can keep the searchlight shooting out flashes in all directions. A ship coming to our aid will see the light." "If they come," Vincent whispered. "Hurry!" exclaimed Alfred, as a giant wave, rising above its mates, threatened to tear their plane into shreds. With benumbed and trembling fingers the boy unwrapped his instruments, adjusted a coil, twisted a knob and threw in his switch. Then his heart stood still. The motor did not start. Had it been dampened and short-circuited? Would it refuse to go? Were they already lost? Just as he was giving up in despair, there came a humming sound and a moment later the well-known signal of distress had been flashed out across the waves. Three times he repeated it. Three times in a few sharp words he told their general location and their plight. Then with wildly beating heart, he pressed the receivers to his ears and awaited a reply. A moment passed, two, three, four; but there came no answering call. Only the buzz and snap of the ever-increasing static greeted his straining ears. Once more he sent out the message; again he listened. Still no response. "C'm'on," came from the boy below. "It's getting dangerous. You can get a message off in the air. Gotta get out o' here. Gotta climb. May not be able to make it even now." As the other boy glanced down at the white-capped waves all about them he realized that his companion spoke the truth. Hurriedly rewrapping his instruments, all but the receivers, which by the aid of an extension he brought down with him, he made his way to his seat and strapped on his harness. "All right," he breathed. Once more the motors thundered. For a long distance they raced through blinding spray. Little by little this diminished until with a swoop, like a sea gull, the magnificent plane shot upward. The next instant they felt a dash of cold rain upon their cheeks. Was the storm upon them? Or was this merely a warning dash which had reached them far in advance of the deluge? For the moment they could not tell. CHAPTER XVI A CONFESSION For an hour Curlie Carson had been seated in the radiophone cabin of the _Kittlewake_. During that time his delicately adjusted amplifier and his wonderful ears had enabled him to pick up many weird and unusual messages. Listening in at sea before a great storm is like wandering on the beach after that same storm; you never can tell what you may pick up. But though fragments of many messages had come to him, not one of any importance to the _Kittlewake_ had reached his ears. If during that time any message from the _Stormy Petrel_ had been sent out, it had been lost in the crash and snap of static which now kept up a constant din in his ears. Again doubt assailed him. He had no positive knowledge that the boys in the plane had gone in search of that mysterious island of the old chart. They might, for all he knew, be at this moment enjoying a rich feast on some island off the coast of America. "Cuba, for instance," he told himself. "Not at all impossible. Short trip for such a seaplane." "And here," he grumbled angrily to himself, "here I am risking my own life and the life of my companions and crew, inviting death to all these, and this on a mere conjecture. Guess I'm a fool." The gale was rising every moment. Even as he spoke the prow of the boat reared in air, to come down with such an impact as made one believe she had stepped on something solid. Just when Curlie's patience with himself and all the rest of the world was exhausted, Joe Marion opened the door. The wind, boosting him across the threshold, slammed the door after him. "Whew!" he sputtered. "Going to be rotten. Tell you what, I don't like it. Dangerous, I'd say!" "Nothing's dangerous," smiled Curlie, greatly pleased to see that someone at least was more disturbed than himself. "Nothing's really dangerous since the invention of the radiophone. Ocean, desert, Arctic wilderness; it's all the same. Sick, lost, shipwrecked? All you've got to do is keep your head clear and your radiophone dry and tuned up. It'll find you a way out." "Yes, but," hesitated Joe, "how the deuce you going to pack a radiophone outfit, all those coils, batteries and boxes, when you're shipwrecked? How you going to keep 'em dry with the rain pelting you from above and the salt water beating at you from below? Lot of sense to that! Huh!" he grunted contemptuously. "That for your radiophone!" He snapped his finger. "And that for your old sloppy ocean! Give me a square yard of good old terra firma and I'll get along without all your modern inventions." "It can be done, though," said Curlie thoughtfully. "What can?" "Radiophone kept dry after a wreck at sea." "How?" Curlie did not answer the question. Instead, he snapped the receiver from his head and handed it to Joe. "Take this and listen in." He rose stiffly. "This business is getting on my nerves. I've got to get out for a breath of splendid fresh sea breeze." "Nerves?" said Joe incredulously. "You got nerves?" "Sometimes. Just now I have." On the deck Curlie experienced difficulty in walking. As he worked his way forward he found that one moment his legs were far too long and his foot came down with a suddenness that set his teeth chattering; the next moment his legs had grown suddenly short. It was like stepping down stairs in the dark and taking two steps at a time when you expected to take but one. "Never saw such a rumpus on the sea," he grumbled. "Going to be worse," he told himself as a chain of lightning, leaping across the sky, illumined the bank of black clouds that lay before them. "Going to be lots worse." Poking his head into the wheel-house, he bellowed above the storm: "How's she go?" "Seen worse'n 'er," the skipper shouted back. "Ought to be at the spot we started for in half an hour--that island on the old chart." "Never was no island," the skipper roared. "Maybe not." "Supposin' we get there, what then?" "Don't know yet." The skipper stared at Curlie for a full moment as if attempting to determine whether he were insane, then turned in silence to his wheel. The wind blew the door shut and Curlie resumed his long-legged, short-legged march. He had done three turns around the deck when his eyes caught a small figure crumpled up on the pile of ropes forward. "Hello," he cried, "you out here?" Gladys did not answer at once. She was straining her eyes as if to see some object which might be hovering above the jagged, sea-swept skyline. "No," said Curlie, as if in answer to a question, "you couldn't see the plane. You couldn't see it fifty fathoms away and then it would flash by you like a carrier pigeon. No use if you did see it. Couldn't do anything. But there's one chance in a million of their coming into our line of vision, so it's no use watching. Only chance is a radiophone message giving their location." "But I--I want to. I--I ought to do something." For the first time he noticed how white and drawn her face was. "All right," he said in a quiet voice, "you just sit where you are and I'll sit here beside you and you tell me one or two things. That will help." "Tell--tell what?" "Tell me this: Did your brother have the original of that old map?" "Yes," her tone was already quieting down, "yes, he did, or Alfred Brightwood did. His father is very rich and he has a hobby of collecting very old editions of books. He pays terrible prices for them. He bought an old, old copy of 'Marco Polo's Travels'; paid fifteen thousand dollars for it. And inside its cover Alfred found that old map with the curious writing on the back of it. "He thought right away that it might hide some great secret, so he had it photographed and sent the photo to Vincent. Vincent got a great scholar to read the writing for him. He never told me what the writing was; said that no one but he and Alfred should know; that it was a great secret and that girls couldn't keep secrets, so I was not to know. "But they can keep secrets!" she exploded, breaking off from her narrative. "They do keep secrets--more secrets than boys do. Wonderful and terrible secrets sometimes!" "All right," smiled Curlie, "I agree with you, absolutely, but what did they do then?" "Well," the girl pressed her temples as if to drive the thoughts of the present from her. "They--why then Alfred called Vincent by radiophone on 600. Vincent was terribly afraid to answer on 600, but he did. And then, because he thought the discovery of the map was so awfully important, he rigged up a radiophone on his auto and I--I"--she buried her face in her hands--"I helped him. I was with him in the car; drove while he sent the messages, all but that last night, when the car was wrecked. "I--I know I shouldn't have done it. I knew all the time it was wrong, but Alfred was stubborn and wouldn't talk on anything but 600--said he had as much right on 600 as anyone else--so we did it." "And then the car was wrecked?" suggested Curlie. He felt a trifle mean about making the girl tell, but he knew she would be more comfortable once she got it out of her system. People are that way. "Yes," she said, "someone shot his tire and wrecked his machine. I found the car, first thing in the morning, and when I saw Vincent wasn't there I got two big packing baskets that we once used in the Rockies and put them on my horse. Then I went back and got all that radio stuff and took it home and hid it. Do you think I did wrong?" The eyes she turned to his were appealing ones. "Maybe you did," said Curlie huskily, "but that doesn't matter now; you're paying for it all right--going to pay for it in full before this voyage is over. The thing you must try to think of now is the present, the little round present that is right here now. And you must try to be brave." "And--and"--she said in a faltering voice--"do you think Vincent is paying for what he did?" "I shouldn't be surprised." "Then you won't have to arrest him if he's already punished?" The appealing eyes were again upon him. At that moment Curlie did a strange thing, so strange that the words sounded preposterous to his own ears: "No," he said slowly, "I won't, unless--unless he asks me to." "Oh!" she breathed, "thank you." She placed her icy-cold hand on his for a second. "You're freezing!" he exclaimed suddenly. "You'll be making yourself sick. You must get inside!" "I'll go to the lounging cabin in mid-deck. The forecastle is so--so lonesome," she stammered. "If you need me, you'll find me there." Feeling her way along the rail, she disappeared into the darkness. At almost the same moment there came the bellowing sound of a voice that could be heard above the roar of the storm: "Curlie! Curlie! Come here! Something coming in. Can't make it out!" It was Joe Marion. Stumbling aft, now banging his feet down hard and now treading on empty air, Curlie made his way to the radiophone cabin. CHAPTER XVII A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT "It's an S. O. S.," screamed Joe at the top of his voice, as Curlie came hurrying up. "They sent that much in code and I got it all right. Then they tried to tell me their troubles and all I got was a mumble and grumble mixed with static, which meant nothing at all to me. Repeated it three times. Very little space in between. Should have called you, I guess, but there really wasn't time; besides I kept thinking I'd start getting what he sent." "Where'd it come from?" Curlie asked as he snapped the receiver over his head. "Straight out of the storm. Fifty or sixty miles northeast." Curlie groaned. "That's what I get for being impatient. Ought to have stayed right here. It's those boys all right and we've missed them; may never pick them up again." For a time there was silence in the wireless cabin, such a silence as one experiences in the midst of a rising storm. The flap of ropes, the creak of yard-arms, the rush of waves which were already washing the deck, the chug-chug-chug of the prow of the brave little craft as she leaped from wave-crest to wave-crest; all this made such music as an orchestra might, had every man musician of them gone mad. And this was the "silence" Curlie did not for a long time break. "Well!" he shouted at last, "that settles one thing. I was right. They did go in search of that mythical island." "You can't be sure," said Joe. "Might have been a fishing boat led off her course by a chase after a whale. You never can tell." "No, that's right," Curlie agreed. "What makes you so sure the island on that map is mythical?" asked Joe. "Doesn't sound reasonable." "Lots of things don't. Take the radiophone; it wouldn't have sounded reasonable a few years ago. Lot of new things wouldn't. A new island is discovered somewhere about every year. Why not around here?" "Anyway, I don't believe it," shouted Curlie. Yet, after all, as he thought of it now he found himself hoping against hope that there was some such island. It wasn't the gold he was thinking of, but a haven of refuge. This storm was going to be a bad one. He fancied it was going to be one of the worst experienced on the Atlantic for years. If only there were somewhere a sheltered nook into which this cockleshell of a craft they were riding on might be driven, it would bring him great relief. He thought a little of Joe, of the skipper and the engineer, but he thought a great deal about the girl. "No place for a girl," he mumbled. "Perhaps," he tried to tell himself, "there is an island, a very small island overlooked for centuries by navigators; perhaps those boys have found it. Perhaps they were merely sending out an S. O. S. to get someone to bring them gas to carry them home. But rat!" he exploded, "I don't believe it. Don't--" He cut himself short to press the receivers tight against his ears. He was getting something. Quickly he manipulated the coil of his radio compass. Yes, it was an S. O. S.! And, yes, it was coming directly out of the storm. But what was this they were saying? "Two boys--" He got that much, but what was that? Strain his ears as he might, he could not catch another word. But now--now he believed he was about to get it. Moving the coil backward and forward he strained every muscle in his face in a mad effort to understand. Yes, yes, that was it! Then, just as he was getting it a terrible thing happened. There came a blinding flash of light, accompanied by a rending, tearing, deafening crash. He felt himself seized by some invisible power which wrenched every muscle, twisted every joint in his body, then flung him limp and motionless to the floor. When he came to himself, Joe and the girl were bending over him. Joe was tearing at the buttons of his shirt. The girl was rocking backward and forward. All but overcome with excitement, she was still attempting to chafe his right hand. When she saw him open his eyes she uttered a little cry, then toppled over in a dead faint. "Wha--what happened?" Curlie's lips framed the words. "Lightning," shouted Joe. "Protectors must have got damp. Short-circuited. Raised hob. Burned out about everything, I guess." "Can't be as bad as that. Tend to the girl," Curlie nodded toward the corner. Joe ducked out of the cabin, to appear a moment later with a cold, damp cloth. This he spread over the girl's forehead. A moment later she sat up and looked about her. Curlie was sitting up also. He was rubbing his head. When he saw the girl looking at him he laughed and sang: "Oh, a sailor's life is a merry life, And it's a sailor's life for me. "But say!" he exclaimed suddenly, "what was I doing when things went to pieces?" Joe nodded toward the radiophone desk where coils and instruments lay piled in tangled confusion. "You were getting a message from out the storm." "Oh yes, and they gave me their location. It was--no, I haven't it. Lightning drove it right out of my head. Let me think. Let me concentrate." For a full moment there was silence, the silence of the raging sea. Then Curlie shook his head sadly. "No, I can't remember," his lips framed the words. It was unnecessary that he shout them aloud. "Oh!" exclaimed the girl, and for a moment it seemed that she would faint again. But she controlled herself bravely. "We'll find them yet," she forced a brave smile. "It's a comfort just to know they're still alive, that they're near us, at least not too far away for us to save them if we can only find them." Again there was silence. Then Curlie rose unsteadily to his feet. "Give us a hand here, Joe, old scout," he said. "We'll get this thing back in shape. There are extra vacuum tubes, tuning-coils and the like, and plenty of all kinds of wire. We'll manage it somehow--got to." The girl rose, to sink upon a seat in the corner. "That's right," shouted Curlie. "You stay right here. We'll be company for each other. Fellow needs company on a night like this. Besides, I've got something to say, a lot to say, to you and Joe as soon as the radiophone is tuned up again. Got to say it before I get killed again," he chuckled. CHAPTER XVIII THE STORMY PETREL GETS AN ANSWER The dash of rain which beat like a volley of lead upon the fuselage of the seaplane as she rose above the spray lasted but a moment. "Just a warning of what's to come," Vincent called through the tube. "Think we could run away from the storm?" "We'd just get lost on the ocean and not know what location to radiophone," grumbled his companion. "Better keep circling. We can get above the storm if we must." Once more the weary circle was commenced. With little hope of sighting land, Vincent still fixed his gaze upon the black waters below, while he sent the flash of light, now far to the right, now to the left, and now straight beneath them. "Someone must have caught our S. O. S." he told himself. "We ought to get sight of their lights pretty soon. But then," his hopes grew faint, "not many ships in these seas. Might not have heard us. Might not be able to reach us. Might--" He broke off abruptly. A blinding flash of lightning had illumined the waters for miles in every direction. In that flash his eyes had seen something; at least, he thought they had; some craft away to the left of them; a craft which reminded him of one he had sailed upon many a time; his father's yacht, the _Kittlewake_. "But of course it couldn't be," he told himself. "Nobody'd be crazy enough to--" A second flash illumined the water, but this time, strain his eyes as he might, he caught no glimpse of craft of any sort. "Must have dreamed it," he muttered. He closed his eyes for a second and in that second saw his sister Gladys clearly mirrored on his mind's vision. She was staggering down a pitching deck. "Huh!" he muttered, shaking himself violently, "this business is getting my goat. I'll be delirious if I don't watch out." Again he fixed his gaze upon the spot of light as it traveled over the water. He had kept steadily at the task for fifteen minutes, was wondering how much longer the gas would hold out, wondering, too, whether the storm was ever going to break, when he caught the pilot's signal in the tube. "How about trying another message?" his companion called. "Up here?" he asked in dismay. "I know--awful dangerous. But we've got to risk something. Lost if we don't." "All right, I'll try." He began cautiously to unbuckle his harness. Scarcely had he loosened two of the three straps which held him in place when the plane gave a sudden lurch. Having struck a pocket, it dropped like an elevator cage released from its cable, straight down. "Oh--ah!" he exclaimed as he caught at a rod just in time to escape being hurled away. "Got to be careful," he told himself, "awful careful! Have to hold on with one hand while I work with the other. Feet'll help too." When the plane had settled again, he loosened the last strap, then began with the utmost caution to drag himself to the surface of the plane above him. Once a vivid flash of lightning showed him the dizzy depths beneath him. He was at that moment clinging to a rod with both hands. His legs were twined about a second. Thus he hung suspended out over two thousand feet of air and as many fathoms of water. For a moment a dizzy sickness overcame him, but this passed away. Again he struggled to gain the platform above. This time he was successful. Even here he did not abandon caution. The straps were still about his waist. One of these he fastened to a rod. Then with one hand he clung to the framework before him, while with the other he worked at the task of adjusting instruments. "Slow business," he murmured. "Maybe it won't work when I get through. Maybe too damp. Maybe it--" Suddenly he found himself floating in air, like the tail of a kite. Only the strap and his viselike grip saved him. The plane had struck another pocket. He was at last thrown back upon the platform with such force as dashed the air from his lungs and a large part of his senses from his brain. After a moment of mental struggle he resumed his task. He worked feverishly now. The fear that he might be seriously injured before he had completed it had seized him. "Now," he breathed at last, "now we'll see!" His hand touched a switch. The motor buzzed. "Ah! She works! She works!" he exulted. Then with trembling fingers he sent out the signal of distress. He followed this with their location, also in code. Three times he repeated the message. Then snapping on his receiver, he strained his ear to listen. "Ah!--" his lips parted. He was getting something. Was it an answer? He could scarcely believe his ears. Yet it came distinctly: "Yacht _Kittlewake_, Curlie--" Just at that moment the plane gave a sickening swerve. Caught off his balance, the boy was thrown clear off the platform. The receiver connection snapped. He hung suspended by the single strap. Madly his hands flew out to grasp at the pitching rods. Just in time he seized them; the strap had broken. With the agility of a squirrel he let himself down to his old place behind his companion. To buckle on the remaining straps was the work of a moment. Then, in utter exhaustion and despair, he allowed his head to sink upon his chest. "And I was getting--getting an answer," he gasped. His companion had seen nothing of his fall. Glancing behind him for a second, he saw Vincent in his seat in the fuselage. "What'd you come down for?" "Got shaken down." "Get anything?" "Was getting. Queer thing that! Got the name of my father's yacht and the word 'Curly.' Then the plane lurched and spilled me off. Jerked the receiver off too. Queer about that message! Thought I saw the _Kittlewake_ on the sea a while ago, but then I thought it couldn't be--thought I was getting delirious or something." "Going back up?" "I--I'll--In a moment or two I'll try." A few moments later he did try, but it was no use. His nerve was gone. His knees trembled so he could scarcely stand. His hands shook as with the palsy. It is a terrible thing for a climber to lose his nerve while in the air. "No use," he told himself. "I'd only get shaken off again and next time I'd be out of luck. Shame too, just when I was getting things." Again he caught his companion's call. "Storm's almost here! Guess we'll have to climb." Even as he spoke, there came a flash of lightning which revealed a solid black bank of clouds which seemed a wall of ebony. It was moving rapidly toward them; was all but upon them. "Better climb; climb quick," he breathed through the tube. CHAPTER XIX THE MAP'S SECRET While all these things were happening to the boys on the seaplane, Curlie Carson and Joe Marion were working hard to repair the damage done to their radiophone set by the lightning. With the boat pitching about as it was, and with the wind and waves keeping up a constant din, it was a difficult task. Just what coils and instruments had been burned out it was difficult to tell. All these must be tested out by the aid of a storage battery. When the defective parts had been discarded, it was necessary to piece together, out of the remaining parts and the extra equipment, an entirely new set. "Have to use a two-stage amplifier," shouted Curlie, making himself heard above the storm. "Lower voltage on the grid, too," Joe shouted back. "Guess it'll be fairly good, though," said Curlie, working feverishly. "Only hope it didn't burn out the insulation on our aerials. Want to get her going again quick. Want to bad. Lot may depend on that." The insulation on the aerials was not burned out. After many minutes of nerve-racking labor they had the equipment together again and were ready to listen in. Curlie flashed a short message in code, giving the name of their boat and its present location, then, with the receiver tightly clamped over his ears, he settled back in his chair. For some time they sat there in silence, the two boys and Gladys Ardmore. The beat of the waves was increasing. The wind was still rising, but as yet no rain was falling. "Queer storm," shouted Joe. "Haven't gotten into it yet. Will though and it's going to be bad. Skipper says the only thing we can do is to fasten down all the hatches and hold her nose to the storm." "Better see about the hatches," shouted Curlie. Throwing open the door, letting in a dash of salt spray and a cold rush of wind as he did so, Joe disappeared into the dark. Curlie and the girl were alone. The seat the girl occupied was clamped solidly to the wall. It had broad, strong arms and to these she clung. She was staring at the floor and seemed half asleep. When Joe disappeared, Curlie once more became conscious of her presence and at once he was disturbed. Who would not have been disturbed at the thought of a delicate girl, accustomed to every luxury, being thrown into such desperate circumstances as they were in at the present moment. "Not my fault," he grumbled to himself. "I didn't want her to go. Wouldn't have allowed her, either, had I known about it." "Not your fault?" his inner self chided him. "Suppose you didn't plan this trip?" "Well, anyway," he grumbled, "she needn't have come along, and, besides, circumstances have justified my theories. They are out here somewhere, those two boys, and since they are it's up to someone to try to save them." Then suddenly he remembered that he had something to say to the girl. He opened his mouth to shout to her, but closed it again. "Better wait till Joe comes," he told himself. "The more people there are to hear it, the more chances there are of its getting back to shore." Joe blew back into the cabin a few moments later. "Everything all right?" Curlie shouted. At the sound of his voice, the girl started, looked up, then smiled; Joe nodded his head. "Say, Joe, I'm hungry," shouted Curlie. "There's bread in the forward cabin and some milk in a thermos bottle. Couldn't manage coffee, but toast and milk'd be fine." The girl sprang to her feet as if to go for the required articles, but Joe pushed her back into her chair. "Not for you," he shouted. "It's gettin' dangerous." "Joe," said Curlie, "there's a small electric toaster there in the cabin. Disconnect it and bring it in here. We'll connect it up and make the toast right here." When the toaster had been connected, the girl, happy in the knowledge that she was able to be of service, toasted the bread to a brown quite as delicate as that to be found on a landlubber's table. "Now," said Curlie as they sat enjoying this meager repast, "I've got something to tell you, something that I want someone else beside me to know. It's going to be an ugly storm and the _Kittlewake_ is no trans-Atlantic liner. We may all get back to shore. We may not. If one of you do and I don't, I want you to tell this. It--it will sort of justify my apparent rashness in dragging you off on this wild trip." He moved his chair close to the stationary seat of the girl and, gripping one of the arms of the seat, motioned Joe to move up beside them. It was only thus that he might be heard unless he were to shout at the top of his voice. "You know," he said, a strange smile playing over his thin lips, "you folks probably have thought it strange that I should go rushing off on a trip like this without any positive knowledge that those two boys had started for that mysterious island shown on the map and spoken of in the writing on the back of the map, but you see I had more information than you thought. This I know for an almost positive fact," he leaned forward impressively: "The mysterious island of the chart does not exist." "Oh!" the girl started back. "It's a fact," said Curlie, "and I'll give you my proof." He paused for a second. The girl leaned forward eagerly. Joe was all attention. "When I went into that big library," he continued, "I was determined to find all the truth regarding that map that was to be had there. While you were looking at those ancient maps," he turned to Gladys, "I went into a back room and there the lady in charge gave me some bound reproductions of ancient maps to look at and some things to read, among them a volume of the 'Scottish Geographic Magazine.' I read them through carefully and--" Suddenly he started violently, then clasped the receivers close to his ears. "Just a moment. Getting something," he muttered. A second later he seized a pencil and marked down upon a pad a series of dots and dashes. Then, wheeling about, he put his fingers on a key to flash back an answer. "It's the boys," he shouted. "Got their location. Joe, decode what I wrote there, then go ask the skipper how much we're off it." He turned once more to click off his message, a repetition of the first one; then he shouted a second message into his transmitter. Joe Marion studied the pad for a moment, then rushed out of the cabin. All alert, Curlie sat listening for any further message which might reach him. Presently Joe returned. There was a puzzled look upon his face. "Skipper says," he shouted, "that the point you gave me is the exact location of the island shown on that ancient map and that we must be about ten knots to the north of it. When I told him that the boys were in a seaplane at that point, he suddenly became convinced that there must be an island out there somewhere and refused to change his course. "'For,' he says, 'if they've been sending messages from a plane in a gale like this they must be on the ground to do it and if on the ground, where but on an island? And if there's an island, how are we going to get up to her in the storm that's about to hit us. We'll be piled on the rocks and smashed in pieces.' That's what he said; said we'd be much safer in the open sea." Curlie stared at the floor. His mind was in a whirl. Here he had been about to furnish proof that the mysterious island did not exist and just at that instant there came floating in from the air proof of the island's actual existence, proof so strong that even a seasoned old salt believed it and refused to change his course. What was he to say to that! Fortunately, or unfortunately, he was to be given time enough to think about it, for at that moment, with an unbelievable violence the storm broke. As they felt the impact of it, it was as if the staunch little craft had run head on into one of those steel nets used during the war for trapping submarines. She struck it and from the very force of the blow, recoiled. The thing she had struck, however, was not a steel net but a mountain of waters flanked by such a volume of wind as is seldom seen on the Atlantic. "It's the end of the _Kittlewake_," thought Curlie. "You take care of her," he shouted in Joe's ear, at the same time jerking his thumb at Gladys. The next second he disappeared into the storm. CHAPTER XX A SEA ABOVE A SEA When Alfred Brightwood had tilted the nose of the _Stormy Petrel_ upward and away from the threatening bank of clouds she rose rapidly. A thousand, two thousand, three, four, five thousand feet she mounted to dizzy heights above the sea. As they mounted, the stars, swinging about in the sky, like incandescent bulbs strung on a wire, made their appearance here and there. They came out rapidly, by twos and threes, by scores and hundreds. In clusters and fantastic figures they swam about in the purple night. Almost instantly the sea disappeared from beneath them and in its place came a new sea; a sea of dark rushing clouds. Rising two thousand feet above the level of the ocean, this mass of moisture hanging there in the sky took on the appearance of a second sea. As Vincent looked down upon it he found it easy to believe that were they to drop slowly down upon it, they would be seized upon and torn this way, then that by the violence of the storm that was even now raging beneath them, and that their plane would be cast at last, a shapeless mass, upon the real sea which was roaring and raging beneath it. "How wonderful nature is!" he breathed. "It would be magnificent were it not so terrible." He was thinking of the gasoline in their tank and he shuddered. Would it last until the storm had passed, or would they be obliged to volplane down into that seething tempest? He put his lips to the tube. "You better use just enough gas to keep us afloat," he suggested. Alfred muttered something like, "Think I'm a fool?" Then for a long time, with the black sea of clouds rising and falling, billowing up like the walls of a mammoth tent, then sagging down to rise again, they circled and circled. They were not circling now in search of adventure, to find some island which might bring them great wealth, but to preserve life. How long that circling could last, neither could tell. * * * * * When Curlie Carson left the wireless cabin of the _Kittlewake_, he grasped a rail which ran along the cabin, just in time to prevent himself from being washed overboard by a giant wave. As it was, the water lifted his feet from the deck and, having lifted him as the wind lifts a flag, it waved him up and down three times, at last to send him crashing, knees down, on the deck. The wind was half knocked out of him, but he was still game. He did not attempt to regain the wireless cabin but fought his way along the side of that cabin toward his own stateroom door. Now a vivid flash of light revealed the water-washed deck. A coil of rope, all uncoiled by the waves, was wriggling like a serpent in the black sea. "No use to try to save it," he mumbled. "No good here, anyhow." A yellow light, hanging above his stateroom door, dancing dizzily, appeared at one moment to take a plunge into the sea and at the next to dash away into the ink-black sky. Curlie was drenched to the skin. He was benumbed with the cold and shocked into half insensibility at the tremendous proportions of the storm. He wondered vaguely about the engineer below. Was the water getting at the engines? He still felt the throb of them beneath his feet. Well, that much was good anyway. And the skipper? Was he still at the wheel? Must be, for the yacht continued to take the waves head-on. Short and light as she was, the craft appeared to leap from wave-crest to wave-crest. Now she missed the leap by a foot and the water drenched her deck anew. And now she overstepped and came down with a solid impact that set her shuddering from stern to keel. "Good old _Kittlewake_," he murmured, "you sure were built for rough service!" But now he had reached his stateroom door. With a lurch he threw open the door, with a second he fell through, a third slammed it shut. One second his eyes roved about the place; the next his lips parted as something bumped against his foot. Stooping, he lifted up a long affair the size and shape of a round cedar fencepost. It was this he had brought aboard just before sailing. It had been shaken down and had been rolling about the floor. Having examined its wrapping carefully, he shook it once or twice. "Guess you're all right," he muttered. "And you had better be! A whole lot depends on you in a pinch." His eyes roved about the room. At length, snatching a blanket from his berth, he tore it into strips. Then, throwing back his mattress, he placed the postlike affair beneath it and lashed it firmly to the springs. "There!" he exclaimed with much satisfaction, "you'll be safe until needed, if you _are_ needed, and--and you never can tell." * * * * * The end of the seaplane's last flirt with death and destruction came suddenly and without warning. Overcome as he was by constant watching, dead for sleep and famished for food, Vincent Ardmore had all but fallen asleep in his seat on the fuselage when a hoarse snort from one of the motors, followed quickly by a rattling grate from the other, startled him into complete wakefulness. The silence which followed these strange noises was appalling. It was like the lull before a hurricane. "Gas is gone," said Alfred. There was fear and defiance in his tone, defiance of Nature which he believed had treated him badly "Have to go down now." "Go down!" Vincent shivered at the thought. Go down to what? He glanced below, then a ray of hope lighted his face. The storm was passing--had all but passed. The clouds beneath them were no longer densely black. A mere mist, they hung like a veil over the sea. "But the water?" His heart sank. "It will still be raging." The storm had not so far passed as he at first thought. The plane cut a circling path as she descended. Her wings were broad; her drop was gradual. As they entered the first layer of clouds, she gave a lurch forward, but with wonderful control the young pilot righted her. Seconds passed, then again she tipped, this time more perilously. But again she was righted. Now she was caught in a little flurry of wind that set her spinning. A nose-dive seemed inevitable, but once more she came to position. Now, as they neared the surface of the sea, a wild, racing wind, the tail of the storm, seized them and hurled them headlong before it. In its grasp, there was no longer thought of control. The only question now was how they would strike the water and when. The very rush of the wind tore the breath from Vincent's lungs. Crushed back against the fuselage, he awaited the end. Once, twice, three times they turned over in a mad whirl. Then, with a sudden rending crash and a wild burst of spray, they struck. The plane had gone down on one wing. For a second she hung suspended there. Vincent caught his breath. If she went one way there was a chance; if the other, there was none. He thought of loosening his straps, but did not. So he hung there. Came a sudden crash. The right motor had torn from its lashings and plunged into the sea. The next second the plane settled to the left. Saved for a moment, the boy drew a deep breath. A second crash and the remaining motor was gone. During this crash the boy was completely submerged, but the buoyant plane brought him up again. Then, for a moment, he was free to think, to look about him. Instinctively his eyes sought the place where his companion had been seated. It was empty. Alfred was gone. Covering his eyes with his hands, he tried to tell himself it was not true. Then, suddenly uncovering them, he searched the surface of the troubled sea. Once he fancied he caught a glimpse of a white hand above a wave. He could not be sure; it might have been a speck of foam. Only one thing he could be sure of; his throbbing brain told it to him over and over: Alfred Brightwood, his friend, was gone--gone forever. The sea had swallowed him up. CHAPTER XXI THE BOATS ARE GONE When Curlie Carson had fastened the mysterious post-shaped affair to the springs of his berth, he fought his way against wind, waves and darkness back to the radiophone cabin. "Anything come in?" he asked as he shook the dampness from his clothing. "Nothing I could make out," shouted Joe. "Got something all jumbled up with static once but couldn't make it out." Rising, he took the receiver from his head and handed it to Curlie. Then, as the craft took a sudden plunge, he leaped for a seat. Missing it, he went sprawling upon the floor. In spite of the seriousness of their dilemma, the girl let forth a joyous peal of laughter. Joe's antics as he attempted to rise were too ridiculous for words. There was tonic for all of them in that laugh. They felt better because of it. Some moments after that, save for the wild beat of the storm, there was silence. Then, clapping the receivers to his ears, Curlie uttered an exclamation. He was getting something, or at least thought he was. Yes, now he did get it, a whisper. Faint, indistinct, mingled with static, yet audible enough, there came the four words: "Hello there, Curlie! Hello!" At that moment the currents of electricity playing from cloud to cloud set up such a rattle and jangle of static that he heard no more. "It's that girl in my old home town, in that big hotel," he told himself. "To think that her whisper would carry over all those miles in such a gale! She's sending on 600. Wonder why?" "Ah, well," he breathed, when nothing further had come in, "I'll unravel that mystery in good time, providing we get out of this mess and get back to that home burg of ours. But now--" Suddenly he started and stared. There had come a loud bump against the cabin; then another and another. "It's the boats!" he shouted. "They've torn loose. Should have known they would. Should have thought of that. Here!" He handed the receiver to Joe and once more dashed out into the storm. The _Kittlewake_ carried two lifeboats. As he struggled toward where they should have been, some object swinging past him barely missed his head. Instantly he dropped to the deck, at the same time gripping at the rail to save himself from being washed overboard. "That," he told himself, "was a block swinging from a rope. The boat on this side is gone. Worse luck for that! We--we might need 'em before we're through with this." Slowly he worked his way along the rail toward the stern. Now and again the waves that washed the deck lifted him up to slam him down again. "Quit that!" he muttered hoarsely. "Can't you let a fellow alone." Arrived at last on the other side, he rose to his knees and tried to peer above him to the place where the second lifeboat should be swinging. A flash of lightning aided his vision. A groan escaped his lips. "Gone!" he muttered. "Should have thought of that! But," he told himself, "there's still the raft!" The raft, built of boards and gas-filled tubes, was lashed to the deck forward. Thither he made his difficult way. To his great relief, he found the raft still safe. Since it was thrashing about, he uncoiled a rope closely lashed to the side of a cabin and with tremendous effort succeeded in making the raft snug. "There, now, you'll remain with us for a spell," he muttered. Clinging there for a moment, he appeared to debate some important question. "Guess I ought to do it," he told himself at last. "And I'd better do it now. You never can tell what will happen next and if worst comes to worst it's our only chance." Fighting his way back to his cabin, he returned presently with the post-shaped affair which he had lashed to the springs of his berth. This he now lashed to the stout slats of wood and crossbars of metal on the raft. When he had finished it appeared to be part of the raft. "There, my sweet baby," he murmured, "sleep here, rocked on the cradle of the deep, until your papa wants you. You're a beautiful and wonderful child!" Then, weary, water-soaked, chilled to the bone, stupefied by the wild beat of the storm, aching in every muscle but not downhearted, he fought his way back to the radio cabin. * * * * * Nature has been kind to man. She has so made him that he is incapable of feeling all the tragedy and sorrow of a terrible situation at the time when it bursts upon him. Vincent Ardmore, as he clung to the wrecked plane, with his companion gone from him forever, did not sense the full horror of his position. He realized little more than the fact that he was chilled to the bone, and that the wind and waves were beating upon him unmercifully. Then, gradually there stole into his benumbed mind the thought that he might improve his position. The platform above him still stood clear of the waves. Could he but loosen the straps which bound him to the fuselage, could he but climb to that platform, he would at least be free for a time from the rude beating of the black waters which rolled over him incessantly. With the numbed, trembling fingers of one hand he struggled with the stubborn, water-soaked straps while with the other he clung to the rods of the rigging. To loosen his grip for an instant, once the straps were unfastened, meant almost certain death. After what seemed an eternity of time the last strap gave way and, with a wild pounding of his heart, he gripped the rods and began to climb. As he tumbled upon the platform, new hope set the blood racing through his veins. "There might yet be a chance," he murmured, almost joyfully; "the storm is breaking." His eyes wandered to the fleeting clouds. "Dawn's coming, too. I--I--why, I might send a message. The motor's gone dead, of course, but there are still storage batteries. If only the insulations are good. If water has not soaked in anywhere!" With trembling fingers he tested the batteries. A bright flash of fire told him they were still alive. Then with infinite care he adjusted the instruments. At last he tapped a wire and a grating rattle went forth. "She's still good," he exulted. Then slowly, distinctly, he talked into the transmitter, talked as he might had he been surrounded by the cozy comforts of home. He gave his name, the name of his aircraft; told of his perilous position; gave his approximate location and asked for aid. Only once his voice broke and fell to a whisper. That was when he tried to tell of the sad fate of his companion. Having come to the end, he adjusted the receiver to his ears and sat there listening. Suddenly his face grew tense with expectation. He was getting something, an answer to his message. For a full moment he sat there tense, motionless. Then, suddenly, without warning, a new catastrophe assailed him. A giant wave, leaping high, came crashing down upon the wreckage of the plane. There followed a snapping and crashing of braces. When the wave had passed, the platform to which he clung floated upon the sea. His radiophone equipment was water-soaked, submerged. His storage batteries had toppled over to plunge into the sea. So there he clung, a single individual on a mass of wreckage, helpless and well-nigh hopeless in the midst of a vast ocean whose waves were even now subsiding after a terrific storm. CHAPTER XXII THE WRECK OF THE _KITTLEWAKE_ "I'm getting a message!" exclaimed Curlie excitedly. "Getting it distinct and plain, and it's--it's from them." "Oh, is it?" the girl sprang from the seat. "From your brother. They've been wrecked. They're not on an island but on the sea. Safe, though, only--" he paused to listen closely again--"I can't just make out what he says about his companion." "Oh! Please, please let me listen!" Gladys Ardmore gripped his arm. Quickly Curlie snatched the receiver from his head and pressed it down over her tangled mass of brown hair. She caught but a few words, then the voice broke suddenly off, but such words as they were; such words of comfort. The voice of her only brother had come stealing across the storm to her, assuring her that he was still alive; that there was still a chance that he might be saved. She pressed the receivers to her ears in the hopes of hearing more. In the meantime Curlie was answering the message. In quiet, reassuring tones he gave their location and told of their purpose in those waters and ended with the assurance that if it were humanly possible the rescue should be accomplished. "And we will save them," he exclaimed. "At least we'll save your brother." "You don't think--" Gladys did not finish. "I hardly know what to think about your brother's chum," Curlie said thoughtfully. "But this we do know: Your brother is clinging to the wreckage of a seaplane out there somewhere. And we will save him. See! the storm is about at an end and morning is near!" He pointed to the window, where the first faint glow of dawn was showing. For a moment all were silent. Then suddenly, without warning, there came a grinding crash that sent a shudder through the _Kittlewake_ from stem to stern. "What was that?" exclaimed Joe Marion, springing to his feet from the floor where he had been thrown. "We struck something!" Curlie was out upon the deck like a shot. He all but collided with the skipper, who had deserted his wheel. "We 'it somethin'," shouted the skipper, "an' she's sinkin' by the larboard bow. Gotta' git off 'er quick. Boats are gone! Everythin's gone." "No," said Curlie calmly, "the raft forward is safely lashed on." The engineer appeared from below. The engine had already ceased its throbbing. "She's fillin' fast," he commented in a slow drawl. "You two get the raft loose," said Curlie. "I'll get the girl." Dashing to his stateroom he seized two blankets and a large section of oiled cloth. With these he dashed to the radio room. "Got to get out quick!" he exclaimed. Before she could realize what he was doing, he had seized the girl and had wrapped her round and round with the blankets, then with the oiled cloth. Joe had rushed out to help with the raft. Curlie carried the girl outside and, when the raft with the others aboard was afloat, handed her down to the skipper. "Try and keep her dry," he said calmly. "We'll all get soaked, but we can stand it for a long time; a girl can't." "Now push off!" he commanded. "Get good and clear so that the wreck will not draw you down." "You'll come with us," said the skipper sternly. Curlie had not intended going with them. He had meant to remain behind and send a call for aid, then to swim for the raft. But now, as he saw the water gaining on the stricken craft, he realized how dangerous and futile it would be. He was needed on the raft to help get her away. Having seen all this at a flash he said: "All right; I'll go." Having dropped to the raft, and seized a short paddle, he joined Joe and the engineer in forcing the unwieldy raft away from the side of the doomed _Kittlewake_. They were none too soon, for scarcely two minutes could have elapsed when with a rush that nearly engulfed them the boat keeled up on end and sank from sight. "And now," said Joe addressing Curlie as he settled back to a seat on one of the gas-filled tubes, "you can test out what you said once about keeping your radiophone dry and tuned up under any and every circumstance. Suppose you tune her up now and get off an S.O.S." There was a smile on the lips of the undaunted young operator as he said with a drawl: "Give me time, Joe, old scout, give me time." The girl, staring out from her wrappings, appeared to fear that the two boys had gone delirious over this new catastrophe. But only brave and hardy spirits can joke in the midst of disaster, and as for Curlie, he really did have one more trick up his sleeve. As the old skipper sat staring away at the point where his craft had disappeared beneath the dark waters, he murmured: "'Twasn't much we 'it; fragment from an iceberg 'er somethin', but 'twas enough. An' a good little craft she was too." The storm had passed, but the waves were still rolling high. The raft tilted to such an angle that now they were all in danger of being pitched headforemost into the sea, and now in danger of falling backward into the trough of the waves. Soaked to the skin, shivering, miserable, the boys and men clung to the raft, while the girl bewailed the fact that she was not permitted to suffer with them. Wrapped as she was, and carefully guarded from the on-rush of the waves, she escaped all the miserable damp and chill of it. "Shows you're a real sport," Curlie's lips, blue with cold, attempted a smile, "but you've got to let us play the gentleman, even out here." When the waves had receded somewhat, Curlie began digging at one of the tubes beneath his feet. Having at length unfastened it, he stood it on end to unscrew some fastenings and lift off the top. "Canisters of water and some emergency rations!" exclaimed Joe, as he peered inside. "Great stuff!" They had taken a swallow of water apiece and were preparing to munch some hardtack and chocolate when Gladys exclaimed: "Look over there. What's that?" "There's nothing," said the engineer after studying the waves for a moment. "Oh, yes there was!" the girl insisted emphatically. "Something showed up on the crest of a wave. It's in the trough of the wave now. It'll come up again." "Bit of wreckage from our yacht," suggested Joe. "Not much wreckage on 'er," said the skipper. "All washed off 'er long before she sank." "What could it be then?" The girl was fairly holding her breath. "It couldn't be--" "Don't get your hopes up too high," cautioned Curlie. "Of course miracles do happen, but not so very often." CHAPTER XXIII THE MIRACLE They were all straining their eyes when at last the thing appeared once more on the crest of the wave. "Wreckage! A mass of it!" came from the skipper. "And--and there's a hand!" exclaimed Curlie. "The paddles, boys! The paddles! Every 'and of you, hup an' at it," shouted the skipper. The wildest excitement prevailed, yet out of it all there came quick and concerted action. Three paddles flashed as, straining every muscle, they strove to bring the clumsy raft nearer the wreck. With tears in her eyes, the girl begged and implored them to unwrap her and allow her to have a hand in the struggle. A minute passed. No longer chilled but steaming from violent exertion, they strained eager eyes to catch another glimpse of the wreck. "There--there it is!" exclaimed the girl, overcome with joy. "You're gaining! You're gaining!" Five minutes passed. They gained half the distance. Eight minutes more; the hand on the wreckage rose again. They were getting nearer. Suddenly the girl uttered a piercing cry of joy: "It is Vincent! It is! It is!" And she was right. A moment later, as they dragged the all but senseless form from the seaplane, they recognized him at once as the millionaire's son. He had drifted in the benumbing water so long that had they been delayed for another hour they would have found nothing more than a corpse awaiting them. As Curlie tore Vincent's sodden outer garments from him he saw the girl carefully unrolling the blankets and oiled covering from about her. He did not protest. To him the thought of seeing this girl half drowned and chilled through by the spray which even now at times dashed over the raft, was heartbreaking, but he knew it was necessary if the life of her brother was to be saved. "Brave girl!" he murmured as he wrapped Vincent in the coverings and passed him on to the skipper. "And now," he said, "the time has come to think of other things. I believe the waves have sufficiently subsided to enable us to dare it." He fumbled once more at the raft, at last to bring up a long, post-shaped affair. "More rations," murmured Joe, swallowing his last bite of hardtack; "a regular commissary. But why get them out at this time?" "You wait," smiled Curlie. He was standing up. After telling Joe to steady him, he began tearing away at the upper end of the mysterious package. In a moment, he took out some limp, rubber affairs. "Toy balloons," jeered Joe. "Something like that," Curlie smiled. He next brought out a small brass retort and a tiny spirit lamp. "Lucky our matches are dry," he murmured, after unwrapping some oiled cloth and lighting the spirit lamp with one of the matches inclosed. After firmly tying the end of a toy balloon over the mouth of the retort he held the spirit lamp beneath the bowl of the retort. At once the balloon began to expand. "Chemicals already in the retort," he explained. When the balloon was sufficiently inflated, he quickly tied it at the mouth, then began inflating another. "The gas is very buoyant," he explained. "Hold that," he said as he passed the string to the engineer. "There's enough," he said quietly when the third had been filled. He next drew forth some shiny fine copper wire coiled about some round, insulated bars. When he had fastened the balloons to one end of the bars, he attached a strong cord to the balloons, then allowed them to rise, at the same time paying out the strands of copper wire. "Not very heavy wire for an aerial," he remarked, "but heavy enough. We'll have a perpendicular aerial, which is better than horizontal, and it'll hang pretty high. All that's in our favor." When the balloons had risen to a height which allowed the aerial, to which was attached a heavier insulated wire, to float free, he gave the cord to the engineer and began busying himself at putting together what appeared to be a small windmill with curved, brass fans. "A windmill," he explained, "is the surest method of obtaining a little power. Always a little breeze floating round. Enough to turn a wheel. This one is connected direct with a small generator. Gives power enough for a radiophone. Might use batteries but they might go dead on you. Windmill and generator is as good after ten years as ten days. "There you are," he heaved a sigh of relief, as he struck the transmitter which he had taken from his apparently inexhaustible "bag of tricks." "Unless I miss my guess, we have a perfectly good radiophone outfit of fair power. All the rest of it is stowed down there in the bottom. We should be heard distinctly at from a hundred to five hundred miles. In the future," he smiled, "every lifeboat and raft will be equipped with one of these handy little radiophone outfits, which are really not very expensive." Then, with all eyes fixed upon him, he began to converse with the unseen and unknown, who, sailing somewhere on that vast sweep of water, were, they hoped, to become their rescuers. In perfectly natural tones he spoke of their catastrophe and their present predicament. He gave their approximate location and the names of their party. This after an interval of two minutes, he repeated. Then, suddenly his lips parted in a smile. The others watched him with strained attention. After a minute had elapsed, he said with apparent satisfaction: "We'll await your arrival with unmixed pleasure. "The Steamship Torrence," he explained, "in crossing the Atlantic was driven two hundred miles off her course. She is now only about seventy-five miles from us. Being a fast boat, she should reach us in three or four hours. "And now," he said with a smile, "since we have no checker-board on deck and are entirely deprived of musical instruments of any kind, perhaps you would like to hear me tell why I was sure the mysterious island which has caused us so much grief, did not exist." "By the way," he said turning to Vincent, "do you chance to have the original of that old map with you?" The boy pointed to his aviator's sodden leather coat. Although he had gained much strength from the warm blankets, he had found himself unable to speak of the tragedy which had befallen his companion on the _Stormy Petrel_. Now as he saw Curlie draw the water-soaked map from the pocket of his coat, a look of horror overspread his face and he muttered hoarsely: "Throw it into the sea. It brings nothing but bad luck." "No, no," said Curlie, "we won't do that." "Then you must keep it," the other boy exclaimed. "I don't want ever to see it again. Alfred made me a present of it just before we hopped off." "All right," said Curlie, "but you are parting with a thing of some value." "Value!" exclaimed Vincent. Then he sat staring at Curlie in silence as much as to say: "You too must have been bitten by the gold-bug." But that Curlie had not been bitten by that dangerous and poisonous insect will be proved, I think, by the pages which follow. CHAPTER XXIV THE STORY OF THE MAP "You see," said Curlie, tapping the soggy bit of vellum which he held in his hand, "the trouble with this map is, not that it is not genuine, but that it's too old. This map," he paused for emphasis, "this map was made in fourteen hundred and forty-six." Gladys Ardmore gasped. Her brother stared in astonishment. "It's a fact!" declared Curlie emphatically. "You see," he went on, "the day I was in the library with Miss Gladys I saw an exact reproduction of this map in a large volume. At the same time I read a description of it and a brief account of its history. It seems it was lost sight of about a century ago. There were copies, but the original was gone. "I concluded at once that the map had somehow come into the hands of Alfred Brightwood. Since I was convinced that this was the truth, and since I had read the writing about the gold discovered on the mysterious island charted there, I decided that it would be wise to find out whether or not it were possible that this strange story might be true. I found my answer in a bound volume of Scottish Geographic Magazines in a series of articles entitled 'The So-Called Mythical Islands of the Atlantic.' "It seems that there is fairly good proof that a number of vessels landed on the North American continent before Columbus did. Driven out of their course or lured on by hopes of gold and adventure, these ships from time to time discovered and rediscovered lands to the west of Ireland. They thought of the land as islands and gave them names. The island of Brazil was one of them. If you were to consult this map I have here you would find the island of Brazil indicated by a circle which is nearly as large as Ireland, yet if you were to cruise all over the waters in the vicinity of this supposed island you would find only the restless old ocean. "What's the answer then?" he smiled. "Just this: These ancient sea rovers didn't have any accurate way of telling where they were at a given time on the sea, so they had to guess at it. Carried on by winds and currents, they often traveled much farther than they thought. They landed on the continent of North America and thought it an island. When they came back to Europe they tried to locate the land they had discovered on a map, and missed it by only a thousand miles or so. "Our ancient friend who wrote of his experiences on the back of this map had doubtless been carried to some point in Central or South America, for there was, even in those days, plenty of gold to be found in those regions." "So you see," he turned to Vincent with a smile, "you went five hundred miles out to sea for the purpose of rediscovering America. Not much chance of success. Anyway that's what I thought, and that is why I dashed off on a wild race in the _Kittlewake_. And that's why we're here." Silence followed the ending of Curlie's narrative. There seemed to be nothing more to say. So they sat there staring at the sea for a long time. The silence was at last broken by the skipper's announcement: "Smoke on the larboard bow." It was true. Their relief was at hand. Almost immediately afterward Curlie received a second reassuring message from the captain of the liner. A short time after that he had the pleasure of escorting the dripping daughter of a millionaire up the gangway. The next day as they were moving in toward the dock, Vincent Ardmore approached Curlie. "My sister," there was a strange smile on his lips, "says you set out on this trip for the purpose of having me arrested?" "I did." "Well--" the other boy choked up and could not continue. "The law, punishment, prisons and all that, as I understand it," said Curlie thoughtfully, "have but one purpose: to teach people what other folks' rights are and to encourage them in respecting them. It's my business to see that there is fair play in the air." He paused and looked away at the sea. When he resumed there was a suspicious huskiness in his voice. "Seems to me that as far as you are concerned, nature has punished you about enough. You ought to know by this time what interfering with the radio wave lengths belonging to sea traffic might mean to shipwrecked men; and--well--Oh, what's the use!" he broke off abruptly. "I'm a chicken-hearted fool. You're out on parole and must report to your sister every week. She's--she's what I'd call a brick!" Turning hastily he walked away. Almost before he knew it, he all but ran over Gladys Ardmore, coming to meet him. "Oh, Mister--Mister--" she hesitated. "Just plain Curlie," he smiled. "You--you're coming to see me when you get home? Won't you?" Curlie thought a moment, then of a sudden the spacious walls of the Ardmore mansion flashed into his mind. To go there as an officer of the law was one thing; to go as a guest was quite another. "Why--why--" he drew back in confusion--"you'll have to excuse me but--but--" "Oh! I know!" she exclaimed. "It's the house and everything. Tell you what," she seized him by the arm; "there's a little old-fashioned farmhouse down in one corner of our estate. It was there when we bought it and has been kept just the same ever since. Even the furniture, red plush chairs, kitchen stove and everything, are there. We'll go down there and have a regular frolic sometime, popcorn, molasses candy, checkers and everything. We've a wonderful cook who once lived on a farm. We'll take her along as a chaperon. Now will you come? Will you?" she urged eagerly. "Why--why--" "If you don't," she held up a warning finger, "I'll come up and visit you in that secret wireless room of yours just as I once said I would." "In that case," said Curlie, "I suppose I'll have to surrender. And," he added happily, "here we are, back to dear old North America, without any gold but with a lot to be thankful for." The boat was bumping against the dock. Giving his arm a squeeze the girl dashed away. CHAPTER XXV OFF ON ANOTHER WILD CHASE A few nights later Curlie was back in the secret tower room. He was busy as ever running down trouble. Joe Marion, entering the room noiselessly, dropped a letter into his hand. The letter bore the insignia of the Ardmore family in one corner. "From Gladys Ardmore!" he told himself. But he was mistaken. It was a typewritten letter signed in a bold business hand. It ran: "It is with great pleasure that I inclose a check for the sum of the reward offered for the safe return of my son. "(Signed) J. Anson Ardmore." Curlie looked at the check, then uttered a low whistle. "Pay to the order of C. Carson, $10,000.00," he whispered. Then out loud: "Joe, what would a fellow do with ten thousand dollars?" "Search me," Joe grinned back. "You got the fever or something?" he asked a second later. Curlie showed him the check. "Why," said Joe, "you might buy a car." "Not much. The Humming Bird's quite good enough." "Tell you what," he said after a moment's thought, "just get that cashed for me, will you? Then find out where our old skipper and the engineer live and send them a thousand apiece. After that pocket a thousand for yourself. Then--then--Oh, well, hire me a safety deposit box and buy me a lot of Liberty bonds. Might want 'em some day. "And, say, that reminds me," he pointed to a square of vellum which hung on a stretcher in the corner. "Take that over to the big library on the North Side and tell 'em it's a present from us. It's that map Vincent Ardmore gave me. It's worth a thousand dollars, but such maps are not safe outside a library. Tell 'em to put it on ice," he laughed. Scarcely had Joe departed than a keen-eyed, gray-haired man entered the tower room. He was Colonel Edward Marshall, Curlie's superior. "Curlie," he wrinkled his brow, as he took a seat, "there's somebody raising hob with the radio service in Alaska." Curlie nodded his head. "I thought there might be. Sends on 1200, doesn't he?" He was thinking of the hotel mystery and of the strange girl who had whispered to him so often out of the night. "Yes, how did you know so much?" "Part of my job." "But you've been away." "Radiophone whispers travel far." "Well," said the colonel, settling down to business, "Alaska's in a bad way. This fellow doesn't confine himself to 1200 up there. He uses all sorts of wave lengths; seems to take pleasure in mussing up important government communications and even more in breaking in on Munson." "Munson, the Arctic explorer." "Yes. He's making a try for the Pole. Much depends upon his keeping in touch with the outside world and this crank or crook seems determined that he shall not." "Why don't they catch him?" "Well, you see," he wrinkled his brow again, "the boys up there are rather new at it. Don't understand the radio compass very well. The fellow moves about and all that, so it's difficult. "I thought," he said slowly after a moment, "that you might like to tackle the case." "Would I?" exclaimed Curlie, jumping to his feet. "Try me! Can I take Joe along?" "As you like. Better get off pretty promptly; say day after to-morrow." "Never fear. We'll be off on time." The colonel bowed and left the room. "Alaska! Alaska!" Curlie murmured after a time, "Alaska and the Yukon trail, for of course it will be that. It's too late for the boats. And that reminds me, I made a promise to Gladys Ardmore. Only one night left." A short time after that he put in an out-of-town telephone call. It was a girlish voice that answered. Late the next night Curlie made his way home along the well-remembered Forest Preserve road. He was riding in the Humming Bird. He had been to Gladys Ardmore's party for two and a chaperon down in the little farmhouse. The party had been a grand success and he was carrying away pleasant memories which would serve him well on the long, long Yukon trail and the weary and eventful miles which lay beyond its further terminal. If you wish to learn of Curlie's adventures up there and of the secret of the whisperer, you must read the next volume, entitled "On the Yukon Trail." 
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11861	----	Distributed Proofreaders RADIO BOYS CRONIES or Bill Brown's Radio by Wayne Whipple Author of "Radio Boys Loyalty" and S. F. Aaron Co-author of "Radio Boys Loyalty" [Illustration: MADE IN U.S.A.] CHAPTER I THE CRONIES "Come along, Bill; we'll have to get there, or we won't hear the first of it. Mr. Gray said it would begin promptly at three." "I'm doing my best, Gus. This crutch----" "I know. Climb aboard, old scout, and we'll go along faster." The first speaker, a lad of fifteen, large for his age, fair-haired, though as brown as a berry and athletic in all his easy, deliberate yet energetic movements, turned to the one he had called Bill, a boy of about his own age, or a little older, but altogether opposite in appearance, for he was undersized, dark-haired, black-eyed, and though a life-long cripple with a twisted knee, as quick and nervous in action as the limitations of his physical strength and his ever-present crutch permitted. In another moment, despite the protests of generous consideration for his chum's strenuous offer, William Brown was heaved up on the broad back of Augustus Grier and the two cronies thus progressed quite rapidly for a full quarter of a mile through the residential section of Fairview. Not until the pair arrived at the entrance of one of the outlying cottages did husky Gus cease to be the beast of burden, though he was greatly tempted to turn into a charging war horse when one of a group of urchins on a street corner shouted: "Look at the monkey on a mule!" Gus cared nothing for taunts and slurs against himself, but he deeply resented any suggestion of insult aimed at his crippled friend. However, although Bill could not defend his reputation with his fists, a method which most appealed to Gus, the lame boy had often proved that he had a native wit and a tongue that could give as good as was ever given him. "Here we are, Gus, and how can I ever get square with you?" Bill said, his crutch and loot thumping the steps as the boys gained the doorway. In answer to the bell, a sweet-faced lady opened the door, greeted the boys by name and ushered them into a book-lined study where already several other boys and girls of about the same age were gathered about their school teacher. Professor James B. Gray, although this was vacation time, was the sort of man who got real and continued pleasure out of instruction, especially concerning his hobbies. Thus his advanced classes, here represented, had come into much additional knowledge regarding the microscope and the stereopticon and had also greatly enjoyed the Professor's moving-picture apparatus devoted to serious subjects. The latest wonder, and one worthy of intense interest, was a newly installed radio receiver. "Come in, come in, David and Jonathan,--I mean William and Augustus!" greeted Professor Gray. "Find chairs, boys. I'm glad you've come. Now, then, exactly in nine minutes the lecture starts and it will interest you. The announcement, as sent out yesterday, makes the subject the life and labors of the great scientist and inventor, Thomas Alva Edison, and it begins with his boyhood. Don't you think that a fitting subject upon an occasion where electricity is the chief factor? But before the time is up, let me say a few words concerning our little boxed instrument here, out of which will come the words we hope to hear. Some of you, I think, have become pretty familiar with this subject, but for those who have not given much attention to radio, I will briefly outline the principles upon which these sounds we shall hear are made possible. "It would seem that our earth and atmosphere," continued the Professor, "and all of the universe, probably, is surcharged with electrical energy that may be readily set in motion through the mechanical vibrations of a sensitive diaphragm much as when one speaks into a telephone. This motion is transmitted in waves of varying intensity and frequency which are sent into space by the mechanism of the broadcasting station, which consists of a sound conducting apparatus induced by strong electrical currents from generators or batteries and extensive aërial or antennas wires high in the air. Thus sound is converted into waves, and the receiving station, as you see here, with its aërial on the roof, its detector, its 'phone and its tuner, gets these waves and turns them again into sound. That is the outline of the thing, which you will understand better 'after' than 'before using.' "The technical construction of the radio receiving set is neither difficult nor expensive; it is described fully in several books on the subject and I shall be glad to give any of you hints on the making and the operation of a receiving set. The 'phone receivers and the crystal detector will have to be purchased as well as some of the accessories, such as the copper wire, pulleys, battery, switches, binding posts, the buzzer tester and so forth. With proper tools and much ingenuity some of these appliances may be home-made. "The making of the tuner, the wiring, the aërial and the assembling are all technicalities that may be mastered by a careful study of the subject and the result will be a simple and inexpensive set having a limited range. With more highly perfected appliances, as a vacuum, or audion tube, and an aërial elevated from sixty to over a hundred feet, you may receive radio energy thousands of miles away. "Now, this talk we are about to hear comes to us from the broadcasting station WUK at Wilmerding, a distance of three hundred miles, and this outfit of mine is such as to get the words loudly and clearly enough to be audible through a horn. The talks are in series; there have been three on modern poets, two on the history of great railroad systems and now this will be the first of several on great inventors, beginning with Edison, in four parts. The next will be on Friday and I want you all to be here. Time is up; there will be a preliminary-ah, there it is: a cornet solo by Drake." CHAPTER II AN UNUSUAL LAD Professor Gray turned to the box and began moving the metal switch arms back and forth, thus tuning in more perfectly as indicated by the increased and clearer sound and the absence of interference from other broadcasting stations, noticed at first by a low buzzing. In a moment the music came clear and sweet, the stirring tune of "America." When the sound of the cornet ceased, there followed this announcement: "My subject is the early life of Thomas Alva Edison." Everyone settled down most contentedly and Gus saw Bill hug himself in anticipatory pleasure; the lame boy had always been a staunch admirer of the great inventor. There was no need of calling anyone's attention to the necessity for keeping quiet. Out of the big horn, as out of a phonograph, came the deliberate and carefully enunciated words: "It has been said that 'the boy is father to the man.' That may be worthy of general belief; at least evidences of it are to be found in the boyhood of him we delight to speak of as one of the first citizens of our country and probably the greatest scientific discoverer of all time. The boyhood of this remarkable man was almost as remarkable as his manhood; it was full of incidents showing the tendencies that afterward contributed to true greatness in the chosen field of endeavor of a mind bent upon experiment, discovery and invention. "Thomas Alva Edison was born in Milan, Ohio, in the year 1847. The precise date, even to Mr. Edison, seems somewhat doubtful. "He was a frail little chap, with an older brother and sister. But he was active enough to have several narrow escapes from death. He wouldn't have been a real boy if he hadn't fallen into the canal and barely escaped drowning at least once. "Then while he was a little bit of a fellow, climbing and prowling around a grain elevator beside the canal, he fell into the wheat bin and was nearly smothered to death. "Once he held a skate strap for another boy to cut off with a big ax and the lad sliced off the end of the fingers holding it! "Another time the small Edison boy was investigating a bumblebee's nest in a field close to the fence. He was so interested in watching the bees that he didn't notice a cross old ram till it had butted in and sent him sprawling. Although he was then 'between two fires,' the little lad was quick-witted enough to jump up and climb the fence just in time to escape a second attack from the ugly old beast. From a safe place he watched the bees and the ram with keen concern. But Edison says his mother used up a lot of arnica on his small frame after this double encounter. The little lad early learned to observe that 'It's a great life if you don't weaken!' "Mr. Edison tells this story about himself: "'Even as a small boy, before we moved away from Milan, I used to try to make experiments. Once I built a fire in a barn. I remember how startled I was to see how fast a fire spreads in such a place. Almost before I knew it the barn was in flames and I barely escaped with my life. "The neighbors thought I ought to be disciplined and made an example of. My mortified parents consented and I was publicly whipped in the village square. I suppose it was a good lesson to me and made the neighbors feel easier. But I think seeing that barn burning down made me feel worse than the whipping,--though I felt I deserved that, too.' "The Edisons moved to Port Huron, Michigan, and lived a little way out of the town on the St. Clair river, where it flows out of Lake Huron. The house was in an orchard, but within easy walking distance of the town. There was no compulsory school law in those days and young Edison did not attend school, but his mother taught him all she could. She was a good teacher--she had taught school before she was married--but even she could not be answering questions all the time. There was a public library in town, so the boy spent a good deal of his time there. He would have liked to read all the books in the library--but he started in on a cyclopedia. He thought because there was 'something about everything' in that, he'd know all there was to know if he read it through. But he soon found question after question to ask that the cyclopedia did not answer. Some of the books he took home to read. "Mr. Edison, the boy's father, had built a wooden tower that permitted a beautiful view of the town, River St. Clair and Lake Huron; one could see miles around in Michigan and over into Canada. Mr. Edison charged ten cents a head to go up and get the view on top of this tower. Very few people came, so the tower was not a great success. But the boy went up there to read, not caring so much for the view as to be alone. "Young Edison read all he could find about electricity. That always fascinated him. But the father seemed to have a hard time making a living and Al, as they called the boy, went to work. He began selling newspapers in Port Huron, but there was not much in that, so he got a chance to sell on the seven o'clock train for Detroit. He applied at the Grand Trunk offices for the job and made his arrangements before he told any one. He had to be at the station at 6:30 A.M. and have his stock all ready before the train started, which compelled him to leave home at six. The train was a local with only three cars--baggage, smoking and passenger. The baggage car was partitioned off into three compartments. One of these was never used, so Al was allowed to take that for his papers to which he added fruits, candies and other wares. "The run down to Detroit took over three hours. His train did not start back till 4:30 in the afternoon, so the lad had about six hours in the big city. He took all the time he needed to buy stock to sell on the train and to eat his lunch. This left him several hours for reading in the Detroit public library, where he found more books on the subjects he liked, more answers to appease his never abating curiosity." CHAPTER III GETTING THE MONEY-MAKING HABIT "Those were the anxious days of the Civil War," the lecturer continued, "and every-one was worked up to a high pitch of excitement most of the time. When it was rumored that a battle had been fought the newspapers sold 'like hot cakes.' Any other boy would have been satisfied if he could supply as many papers as people wanted and let it go at that. But that was not the way with young Edison. He was not content with hoping for an opportunity. He made his opportunity. "In spite of his getting into trouble so often, Al was a most likable lad, and a real boy,--earnest, honest and industrious. He had a big stock of horse sense and a great fund of humor. Though his life seemed to be 'all work and no play,' he took great pleasure in his work. In the course of his daily routine at Detroit, he could hardly help making friends on the _Free Press_, the greatest newspaper there. In this he resembled that other great inventor, also a great worker as a boy--Benjamin Franklin. "Young Edison had a friend up in the printing office who let him see proofs from the edition being set up, so that he kept posted as to what was to be in the paper before it came off the press. After the _Free Press_ came out, he had to get an armful and hustle for his train. In this shrewd way the train-boy was better off than 'he who runs may read,' for he _had_ read, and could _shout_ while running: 'All about the big battle!' So he sold his papers in short order. He had learned to estimate ahead how many papers the news of a battle ought to sell, and so he stocked up well beforehand. One day he saw in the advance proofs a harrowing account of the great two-days' battle of Shiloh. He grasped not only the news value but also the strategic importance of that victory. "Running down to the telegraph office at the Grand Trunk Station in Detroit, he told the operator all about it. Edison has told us himself about the offer he made that telegrapher: "'If you will wire to every station on my run and get the station master to chalk up on the blackboard out on the station platform that there has been a big battle, with thousands killed and wounded, I'll give you _Harper's Weekly_ free for six months!' "The operator agreed and that Edison boy tore back to the _Free Press_ office. "'I want a thousand papers!' he gasped. 'Pay you to-morrow!' This was more than three times as many as he had taken out before, so the clerk refused to trust him. "'Where's Mr. Storey?' demanded the lad. The clerk snickered as he jerked his head toward where the managing editor was talking with a 'big' man from out of town. Young Edison was forced to break in, but the editor noticed how anxious and business-like he was. When the boy had told him what he wanted, the great newspaper man scribbled a few words on a scrap of paper and handed it down to him, saying: "'Here, take this. Wish you good luck!' "Al handed the clerk the order and got his thousand papers at once. He hired another 'newsie' to help him down to the station with them. Long after this, he told the rest of the story: "'At Utica, the first station, twelve miles out of Detroit, I usually sold two papers at five cents each. As we came up I put my head out and thought I saw an excursion party. The people caught sight of me and commenced to shout. Then it began to occur to me that they wanted papers. I rushed back into the car, grabbed an armful, and sold forty there. "'Mt. Clemens was the next stop. When that station came in sight, I thought there was a riot. The platform was crowded with a howling mob, and I realized that they were after news of Shiloh, so I raised the price to ten cents, and sold a hundred and fifty where I never had got rid of more than a dozen. "'At other stations these scenes were repeated, but the climax came when we got to Port Huron. I had to jump off the train about a quarter of a mile from the station which was situated out of town. I had paid a big Dutch boy to haul several loads of sand to that point, and the engineers knew I was going to jump so they slowed down a bit. Still, I was quite an expert on the jump. I heaved off my bundle of papers and landed all right. As usual, the Dutch boy met me and we carried the rest of the papers toward the town. "'We had hardly got half way when we met a crowd hurrying toward the station. I thought I knew what they were after, so I stopped in front of a church where a prayer-meeting was just closing. I raised the price to twenty-five cents and began taking in a young fortune. "'Almost at the same moment the meeting closed and the people came rushing out. The way the coin materialized made me think the deacons had forgotten to pass the plate in that meeting!' "In those days they commonly called trainboys 'Candy Butchers'; the terms 'Newsies' and 'Peanuts' may have been used then also but were not so common. They are not so common on trains nowadays, except in the West and South, but formerly they were even more of an institution than the water cooler or the old-fashioned winter stove. The station-shouting brakemen were no more familiar or comforting to weary passengers than the 'candy butchers' and their welcome stock." CHAPTER IV _Paul Pry_ ON WHEELS "With all he had to do, young Edison found that he had time on his hands which he might yet put to good use. One would think being 'candy butcher' and newsboy from 6 A.M. to 9 P.M., and making from $10.00 to $12.00 a day might satisfy the boy's cravings. But contentment wasn't one of Al Edison's numerous virtues. "He did not know it, but he was following the footsteps of that other great American inventor, Benjamin Franklin, as a printer, editor, proprietor and publisher. In one of the stores where he stocked up with books, magazines and stationery for his train, there was an old printing press which the dealer, Mr. Roys, had taken for a debt. Mr. Roys once told the little story of that press: "'Young Edison, who was a good boy and a favorite of mine, bought goods of me and had the run of the store. He saw the press, and I suppose he thought at once that he would publish a paper himself, for he could catch onto a new idea like lightning. He got me to show him how it worked, and finally bought it for a small sum.' "From his printer friends on the _Free Press_ he bought some old type. Watching the compositors at work, he learned to set type and make up the forms, so within two weeks after purchasing the press he brought out the first number of _The Weekly Herald_--the first paper ever written, set up, proof-read, printed, published and sold (besides all his other work) on a local train--and this by a boy of fourteen! "Of course, it had to be a sort of local paper, giving train and station gossip with sage remarks and 'preachments' from the boy's standpoint. It sold for three cents a copy, or eight cents a month to regular customers. Its biggest 'sworn circulation' was 700 copies, of which about 500 were _bona fide_ subscriptions, and the rest 'news-stand sales.' "The great English engineer, Robert Stephenson, grandson of the inventor and improver of the locomotive, is said to have ordered a thousand copies to be distributed on railways all over the world to show what an American newsboy could do. "Even the _London Times_, known for generations as '_The Thunderer_,' and long considered the greatest newspaper in both hemispheres, quoted from _The Weekly Herald_, as the only paper of its kind in the world. Young Edison's news venture was a financial success, for it added $45.00 a month to his already large income. "But _Paul Pry_ came to grief because he tried to be funny in disclosing the secret motives of certain persons. People differ widely in their notions about fun. In a local paper, too, some one's feelin's are likely to get 'lacerated!' This was the case with a six-foot subscriber to the paper which was published then under Al Edison's pen name of 'Paul Pry.' One day the juvenile editor happened to meet his huge and wrathy reader too near the St. Clair river. Whereupon the subscriber took the editor by his collar and waistband and heaved him, neck and crop, into the river. Edison swam to shore, wet, but otherwise undisturbed, discontinued the publication of _Paul Pry_, and bade good-by to journalism forever! "While young Edison was wading through such mammoth works as Sears's _History of the World_, Burton's _Anatomy of Melancholy_, and the _Dictionary of Sciences_ (and had begun to wrestle desperately with Newton's _Principia_!) he was showing a rare passion for chemistry. He 'annexed' the cellar for a laboratory. His mother said she counted, at one time, no less than two hundred bottles of chemicals, all shrewdly marked POISON, so that no one but himself would dare to touch them. Before long the lad took up so much room in his mother's cellar with his 'mess,' as she called it, that she told him to take it out, 'bag and baggage.' "He once stated that his great desire to make money was largely because he needed the cash to buy materials for experiments. Therefore, in this emergency, he took keen pleasure in buying all the chemicals, appliances and apparatus he wished, and installing them in his real 'bag and baggage' car. As the railroad authorities had allowed him to set up a printing press, in addition to his miscellaneous stock in trade, why should he not have his laboratory there also? So his stock of batteries, chemicals and other 'calamity' grew apace. "One day, after several weeks of happiness in his moving laboratory, he was 'dead to the world' in an experiment. Suddenly the car gave a lurch and jolted the bottle of phosphorus off its shelf. It broke, flamed up, set fire to the floor and endangered the whole train. While the boy was frantically fighting the fire, the Scotch conductor, red-headed and wrathy, rushed in and helped him to put it out. "By this time they were stopping at Mt. Clemens, where the indignant Scotchman boxed the boy's ears and put him out also. Then the man threw the lad's bottles, apparatus and batteries after him, as if they were unloading a carload of freight there. "These blows on his ears were the cause of the inventor's life-long deafness. But there never was a gamer sport than Thomas A. Edison. Once, long after this, he saw the labor of years and the outlay of at least two million dollars at the seashore washed away in a single night by a sudden storm. He only laughed and said that was 'spilt milk, not worth crying over.' Disappointments of that sort were 'the fortunes of war' or 'all for the best' to him. The injury so unjustly inflicted on him by that irate conductor was not a defect to him. Many years afterwards he said: "'This deafness has been of great advantage to me in various ways. When in a telegraph office I could hear only the instrument directly on the table at which I sat, and, unlike the other operators, I was not bothered by the other instruments. "'Again, in experimenting on the telephone, I had to improve the transmitter so that I could hear it. This made the telephone commercial, as the magneto telephone receiver of Bell was too weak to be used as a transmitter commercially.' "It was the same with the phonograph. The great defect of that instrument was the rendering of the overtones in music and the hissing consonants in speech. Edison worked over one year, twenty hours a day, Sundays and all, to get the word 'specie' perfectly recorded and reproduced on the phonograph. When this was done, he knew that everything else could be done,--which was a fact. "'Again,' Edison resumed, 'my nerves have been preserved intact. Broadway is as quiet to me as a country village is to a person with normal hearing.'" The talk suddenly ceased. Then another voice announced from out of the horn: "The second installment of the lectures on Edison will be given at 3 P.M. next Friday. We will now hear a concert by Wayple's band." CHAPTER V OPINIONS The boys and girls filed out, after most of them had expressed appreciation of Professor Gray's interest in their enjoyment, and on the street a lively discussion started. Terry Watkins was laughing derisively at some remark of Cora Siebold, who, arm in arm with her chum "Dot" Myers, had paused long enough to fire a broadside at him. "Why don't some of you smarties who talk so much about the wonderful things you can do make yourselves receiving sets! Too lazy? Baseball and swimming and loafing around are all you think about. But leave it to the girls; Dot and I are going to tackle one." "What? You two? Won't it be a mess? Bet you can't hear yourselves think on it. Girls building a radio! Ho, ho, ho!" "Bet there'll be a looking-glass in it somewhere," laughed Ted Bissell. "Well, we aren't planning to ask advice from either of you," Cora said. "No, and it would be worth very little if you got any," Bill Brown offered, as he and Gus, who had been detained a moment by Professor Gray, joined the loitering group. "Thanks, Mr. Brown," said Dot, half shyly. "Who asked you for your two cents' worth?" Terry demanded. "I'm donating it, to your service. Go and do something yourself before you make fun of others," Bill said. "That's right, too, Billy. Terry can't drive a carpet tack, nor draw a straight line with a ruler." Ted was always in a bantering mood and eager for a laugh at anybody. "I'll bet Cora's radio will radiate royally and right. You going to make one--you and Gus?" "I guess we can't afford it," Bill replied quickly. "We're both going to work in the mill next Monday. Long hours and steady, and not too much pay, either. But we need the money; eh, Gus?" "We do," agreed Gus, smiling. Bill's countenance was altogether rueful. Life had not been very kind to him and he very naturally longed for some opportunity to dodge continued hardship. He wished that he might, like the boy Edison, make opportunity, but that sounded more plausible in lectures than in real life. He was moodily silent now, while the others engaged in a spirited discussion started by Dot's saying kindly: "Well, lots of boys and girls have to work and they often are the better for it. Edison did--and was." "Oh, I guess he could have been just as great, or greater if he hadn't worked," remarked Terry sententiously. "It isn't only poor boys that amount to----" "Mostly," said Bill. "Oh, of course, _you'd_ say that. We'll charge your attitude up to envy." "When I size up some of the rich men's sons I know, I'm rather glad I'm poor," said Bill, "and I would rather make a thousand dollars all by my own efforts than inherit ten thousand." "I guess you'd take what you could get," Terry offered, and Bill was quick to reply: "We know there'll be a lot coming to you and it will be interesting to know what you'll do with it and how long you'll have it." "He will never add anything to it," said Ted, who also was the son of wealth, but not in the least snobbish. The others all laughed at this and Terry turned away angrily. Bill, further inspired by what he deemed an unfair reference to Edison, began to wax eloquent to the others concerning his hero. "I don't believe Edison would have amounted to half as much as he has if he hadn't had the hard knocks that a poor fellow always gets. Terry makes me tired with his high and mighty----" "Oh, don't you mind him!" said Cora. "You've read a lot about Edison, haven't you, Bill?" asked Dot, knowing that the lame boy possessed a hero worshiper's admiration for the wizard of electricity and an overmastering desire to emulate the great inventor. The girl sat down on the grassy bank, pulled Cora down beside her and in her gentle, kindly way, continued to draw Bill out. "When only quite a little fellow he had become a great reader, the lecturer said." "I should say he was a reader!" Bill declared. "Why, when he was eleven years old he had read Hume's History of England all through and--" "Understood about a quarter of it, I reckon," laughed Ted. "Understood more than you think," Bill retorted. "He did more in that library than just read an old encyclopedia; he got every book off the shelves, one after the other, and dipped into them all, but of course, some didn't interest him. He read a lot on 'most every subject; mostly about science and chemistry and engineering and mechanics, but a lot also on law and even moral philosophy and what you call it? oh--ethics--and all that sort of thing. He had to read to find out things; there seemed to be no one who could tell him the half that he wanted to know, and I guess a lot of people got pretty tired of having him ask so many questions they couldn't answer. And when they would say, 'I don't know,' he'd get mad and yell: '_Why_ don't you know?'" "Hume's history,--why, we have that at home, in ten volumes. If he got outside of all of that he was going some!" declared Ted. "Well, he did, and all of Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, too." "Holy cats! What stopped him?" Ted queried. "He didn't stop--never stopped. But he had to earn his living--didn't he? He couldn't read all the books and find out about everything right off. But you bet he found out a lot, and he believes that after a fellow gets some rudiments of education he can learn more by studying in his own way and experimenting than by just learning by rote and rule. Maybe he's not altogether right about that, for education is mighty fine and I'd like to go to a technical school; Gus and I both are aiming for that, but we're going to read and study a lot our own way, too, and experiment; aren't we, Gus? Nobody can throw Edison's ideas down when they stop to think how much he knows and what he's done." "He certainly has accomplished a great deal," the usually reticent Gus offered. "And yet he seems to be very modest about it," was Cora's contribution. "Of course, he is; every man who does really big things is never conceited," declared Bill. "Oh, I don't know. How about Napoleon?" queried Dot. "Napoleon? All he ever did was to get up a big army and kill people and grab a government. He had brains, of course, but he didn't put them to much real use, except for his own glory. You can't put Napoleon in the same class with Edison." "Oh, Billy, you can't say that, can you?" "I have said it and I'll back it up. Look how Edison has given billions of people pleasure and comfort and helped trade and commerce. Nobody could do more than that. War and fighting and being a king,--that's nothing but selfishness! Some day people will build the largest monuments to folks who have done big things for humanity,--not to generals and kings. Just knowing how to scrap isn't much good. I've got more respect for Professor Gray than I have for the champion prize fighter. You can't-----" "Maybe if you knew how to use your fists, you wouldn't talk that way; eh, Gus?" queried Ted. "Well, I don't know but I think Bill is right. It's nice to know how to scrap if scrapping has to be done, but it shouldn't ever have to be done,--between nations, anyway." This was a long speech for Gus, but evidently he meant it. Bill continued: "Talking about Edison when he was a boy: he wasn't afraid of work, either. He got up at about five, got back to supper at nine, or later, and maybe that wasn't some day! But he made from $12 to $20 a day profits, for it was Civil War times and everything was high." "I think I'd work pretty hard for that much," said Gus. "I reckon," remarked Ted, "that he had a pretty good reason to say that successful genius is one per cent. inspiration and ninety-nine per cent. perspiration." "But I guess that's only partly right and partly modesty," declared Bill. "There must have been a whole lot more than fifty per cent, inspiration at work to do what he has done. But he is too busy to go around blowing his own horn, even from a talking-machine record." "He doesn't need to do any blowing when you're around," Ted offered. Bill laughed outright at that and there seemed nothing further to be said. The girls decided to go on, Ted walked up the street with them, and Gus and his lame companion turned in the opposite direction toward the less opulent section of the town. There were chores to do at home and Gus often lent a hand to help his father who was the town carpenter. Bill, the only son of a widow whose small means were hardly adequate for the needs of herself and boy, did all he could to lessen the daily pinch. CHAPTER VI THE BOYHOOD OF A GENIUS The class had assembled again in Professor Gray's study and all were eager to hear the second talk on Edison. There was a delay of many minutes past the hour stated, but the anticipation was such that the time was hardly noticed. During the interim, Professor Gray came to where Bill and Gus sat. "I hear that you boys intend to go to work in the mills next week," he said. "Well, now, I have some news and a proposition, so do not be disappointed if the beginning sounds discouraging. In the first place I saw Mr. Deering, superintendent of the mills, again and he told me that while he would make good his promise to take you on, there would hardly be more than a few weeks' work. Orders are scarce and they expect to lay off men in August, though there is likely to be a resumption of business in the early fall when you are getting back into school work. So wouldn't it be better to forego the mill work,--there goes the announcement! I'll talk with you before you leave." "But we need the money; don't we, Gus?" "We do," said Gus. "I wonder if the Professor thinks we're millionaires." Bill was plainly disappointed. "Oh, well, he didn't finish what he was saying to us. Let's listen to the weather report," demanded Gus, ever optimistic and joyful. The words came clearer than ever out of that wonderful horn. There was to be rain that afternoon--local thunderstorms, followed by clearing and cooler. On the morrow it would be cloudy and unsettled. Bill felt as though that prediction suited his mental state! Gus was never the kind to worry; he sat smiling at the horn and he received with added pleasure the music of a band which followed. And then came the second talk on the boyhood of the master of invention. "It has been said," spouted the horn, "that high mental characteristics are accompanied by heroic traits. Whether true or not generally, it was demonstrated in young Edison and it governed his learning telegraphy and the manner thereof. The story is told by the telegraph operator at Mt. Clemens, where the red-headed conductor threw the train boy and his laboratory off the train. "'Young Edison,' says the station agent, 'had endeared himself to the station agents, operators and their families all along the line. As the mixed train did the way-freight work and the switching at Mt. Clemens, it usually consumed not less than thirty minutes, during which time Al would play with my little two-and-a-half-year old son, Jimmy. "'It was at 9:30 on a lovely summer morning. The train had arrived, leaving its passenger coach and baggage car standing on the main track at the north end of the station platform, the pin between the baggage and the first box car having been pulled out. There were about a dozen freight cars, which had pulled ahead and backed in upon the freight-house siding. The train men had taken out a box car and pushed it with force enough to reach the baggage car without a brakeman controlling it. "'At this moment Al turned and saw little Jimmy on the main track, throwing pebbles over his head in the sunshine, all unconscious of danger. Dashing his papers and cap on the platform he plunged to the rescue. "'The train baggage man was the only eyewitness. He told me that when he saw Al jump toward Jimmy he thought sure both boys would be crushed. Seizing Jimmy in his arms just as the box car was about to strike them, young Edison threw himself off the track. There wasn't a tenth of a second to lose. By this instinctive act he saved his own life, for if he had thrown the little chap first and then himself, he would have been crushed under the wheels. "'As it was, the front wheel struck the heel of the newsboy's boot and he and Jimmy fell, face downward on the sharp, fresh-gravel ballast so hard that they were both bleeding and the baggage man thought sure the wheel had gone over them. To his surprise their injuries proved to be only skin deep. "'I was in the ticket office when I heard the shriek and ran out in time to see the train hands carrying the two boys to the platform. My first thought was: 'How can I, a poor man, reward the dear lad for risking his life to save my child's?' Then it came to me, 'I can teach him telegraphy.' When I offered to do this, he smiled and said, 'I'd like to learn,' and learn he did. I never saw any one pick it up so fast. It was a sort of second nature with him. After the conductor treated him so badly, throwing off his apparatus, boxing his ears and making him hard of hearing, Al seemed to lose his interest in his business as train boy. "'Some days Al would stop at my station at half past nine in the morning and stay all day while the train went on to Detroit and returned to Mt. Clemens in the evening. The train baggage man who saw Al rescue Jimmy would get the papers in Detroit and bring them up to Mt. Clemens for him. During these long hours the Edison boy made rapid progress in learning. And every day he made the most of the half hour or more of practice he had while the train stopped at Mt. Clemens each way. "'At the end of a couple of weeks I missed him for several days. Next time he dropped off he showed me a set of telegraph instruments he had made in a gunshop in Detroit, where the stationer who had sold him goods had told the owner of the machine shop the story of the printing press.' "The first place young Edison worked after he was graduated from the Mt. Clemens private school of telegraphy was in Port Huron, his home town. Here he had too many boy friends to let him keep on the job as a youthful telegrapher should. Besides, he had a laboratory in his home and found it too fascinating to take enough sleep. Between too much side work and mischief, young Edison sometimes found himself in trouble. Some of his escapades he has described to his friend and assistant, William H. Meadowcroft. "'About every night we could hear the soldiers stationed at Fort Gratiot. One would call out: "Corporal of Guard Number One!" This was repeated from one sentry to another till it reached the barracks and "No. 1" came out to see what was wanted. The Dutch boy (who used to help me with the papers) and I thought we would try our hand in military matters. "'So one dark night I called, "Corporal of the Guard Number One!" The second sentry, thinking it had come from the man stationed at the end, repeated this, and the words went down the line as usual. This reached Corporal Number One, and brought him back to our end only to find out that he had been tricked by someone. "'We did this three times, but on the third night they were watching. They caught the Dutch boy and locked him up in the fort. Several soldiers chased me home. I ran down cellar where there were two barrels of potatoes and a third which was almost empty. I dumped the contents of three barrels into two, sat down, pulled the empty barrel over my head, bottom upwards. The soldiers woke my father, and they all came hunting for me with lanterns and candles. "'The corporal was perfectly sure I had come down cellar. He couldn't see how I had got away, and asked father if there wasn't a secret place for me to hide in the cellar. When father said "No," he exclaimed, "Well, that's very strange!" "'You can understand how glad I was when they left, for I was in a cramped position, and as there had been rotten potatoes in that barrel, I was beginning to feel sick. "'The next morning father found me in bed and gave me a good switching on my legs--the only whipping I ever received from him, though mother kept behind the old clock a switch which had the bark well worn off! My mother's ideas differed somewhat from mine, most of all when I mussed up the house with my experiments. "'The Dutch boy was released the next morning.' "Another escapade described by Edison was pulled off on the Canada side of the St. Clair, in Port Sarnia, opposite Port Huron. "'In 1860 the Prince of Wales (afterward King Edward) visited Canada. Nearly every lad in Port Huron, including myself, went over to Sarnia to see the celebration. The town was profusely draped in flags--there were arches over some streets--and carpets were laid on the crossings for the prince to walk on. "'A stand was built where the prince was to be received by the mayor. Seeing all these arrangements raised my idea of the prince very high. But when he finally came I mistook the Duke of Newcastle for Albert Edward. The duke was a very fine-looking man. When I discovered my mistake--the Prince of Wales being a mere stripling--I was so disappointed that I couldn't help mentioning the fact. Then several of us American boys expressed our belief that a prince wasn't much after all! One boy got well whipped for this and there was a free-for-all fight. The Canucks attacked the Yankee boys and, as they greatly outnumbered us, we were all badly licked and I got a black eye. This always prejudiced me against that kind of ceremonial and folly.'" CHAPTER VII THE MAKING OF AN INVENTOR "It was during the time young Edison was employed at Port Huron," the radio continued, "that the cable under River St. Clair between that city and Port Sarnia was severed by an ice jam. The river at that point is three quarters of a mile wide. Navigation was suspended and the ice had broken up so that the stream could not be crossed on foot nor could the broken cable lying in the bed of the river be mended. "The ingenious young telegrapher suggested signaling Sarnia by giving, with the whistle of a locomotive, the dot-and-dash letters of the Morse telegraph code. Or course, this strange whistling caused considerable wonderment on the Canada side until a shrewd operator recognized the long-and-short telegraph letters, and communication was at once established--important messages being transmitted by steam whistles--a gigantic system of broadcasting. This was a simple way out of a sublime difficulty involving the affairs of two great peoples. "But the too-enterprising operator had started so much trouble for himself that he decided to find employment where his mind would not be distracted from his job or tempted away from working out his chemical and electrical experiments. Because of these he preferred the position of night operator. His telegraph work was really a side line. "On these accounts he found a job as night operator at Stratford Junction, Canada West, as Ontario was then called. He was only sixteen but his salary of twenty-five dollars a month seemed very small after making ten or twelve dollars a day as 'candy butcher.' But on account of the chances it gave him for experimenting, he resigned himself to the smallness of his pay. The treatment he had received at the hands of that train conductor had convinced him that he could not follow his bent while working all day on the railroad. "Mr. Edison likes to tell of the prevailing ignorance of the science of telegraphy. He once told a friend: "'The telegraph men themselves seemed unable to explain how the thing worked, though I was always trying to find out. The best explanation I got was from an old Scotch line repairer employed by the Montreal Telegraph Company, then operating the railway wires. Here is the way he described it: "If you had a dachshund long enough to reach from Edinburgh to London, and pulled his tail in Edinburgh he would bark in London!" "'I could understand that, but I never could get it through me what went through the dog or over the wire.' "It was at Stratford Junction that the Edison boy began his career of invention. From the first his chief aim was the saving of labor. In order to be sure that the operators all along the line were not asleep at their posts, they were required to send to the train dispatcher's office a certain dot-and-dash signal every hour in the night. Young Edison was like young Napoleon in grudging himself the necessary hours of sleep. While the ingenious lad was fond of machinery--to make a machine of himself was utterly distasteful to him. It was against his principles and instincts to do anything a mere machine could do instead. So he made a little wheel with a few notches in the rim, with which he connected the clock and the transmitter, so that at the required instant every hour in the night the wheel revolved and sent the proper signal to headquarters. Meanwhile that wily young operator slept the sleep of the genius, if not of the just. Of one experience at this little place Edison relates: "'This night job just suited me, as I could have the whole day to myself. I had the faculty of sleeping in a chair any time for a few minutes at a time. I taught the night yardman my call, so I could get half an hour's sleep now and then between trains, and in case the station was called the watchman was to wake me. One night I got an order to hold a freight train, and I replied that I would do so. I ran out to find the signal man, but before I could locate him and get the signal set--_the train ran past!_ I rushed back to the telegraph office and reported that I could not hold it. "'But on receiving my first message that I would hold the freight, the dispatcher let another train leave the next station going the opposite way. There was a station near the Junction where the day operator slept. I started to run in that direction, but it was pitch dark. I fell down a culvert and was knocked senseless.' "The two engineers, with a feeling that all was not as it should be, kept a sharp lookout and saw each other just in time to avert a fatal accident. But young Edison was cited to trial, for gross neglect of duty, by the general manager. During an informal hearing two Englishmen called on the manager. While he was talking with them the young night operator disappeared. Boarding a freight train bound for Port Sarnia, he made his escape from the five-years' term in prison threatened by the irate manager. Edison afterward confessed that his heart did not leave his throat until he had crossed the ferry to Port Huron and 'one wide river' lay between him and the Canadian authorities. "Following his escape from Canada young Edison knocked about the home country, North and South. As it was during the Civil War he had some peculiar adventures. After making a long circuit, broken in many places by 'short circuits,' the journeyman telegrapher landed in Port Huron, and wrote his friend Adams, then in Boston to find him a job. "His friend relates that he asked the Boston manager of the Western Union Telegraph office if he wanted a first-class operator from the West. "'What kind of copy does he make?'" was the manager's first query. "Adams continues: "'I passed Edison's letter through the window for his inspection. He was surprised, for it was almost as plain as print, and asked: "'Can he take it off the wire like that?' "'I said he certainly could, and that there was nobody who could stick him. He told me to send for my man and I did. When Edison came he landed the job without delay.'" "The inventor himself has told the story of his reporting for duty in Boston: "'The manager asked me when I was ready to go to work. "'_Now_!' said I, and was instructed to return at 5:30 P.M., which I did, to the minute. I came into the operators' room and was ushered into the night manager's presence. "'The weather was cold and I was poorly dressed; so my appearance, as I was told afterward, occasioned considerable merriment, and the night operators conspired to "put up a job on the jay from the wild and woolly West." I was given a pen and told to take the New York No. 1 wire. After an hour's wait I was asked to take my place at a certain table and receive a special report for the Boston _Herald_, the conspirators having arranged to have one of the fastest operators in New York send the despatch and "salt" the new man. "'Without suspecting what was up I sat down, and the New York man started in very slowly. Soon he increased his speed and I easily adapted my pace to his. This put the man on his mettle and he "laid in his best licks," but soon reached his limit. "'At this point I happened to look up and saw the operators all looking over my shoulder with faces that seemed to expect something funny. Then I knew they were playing a trick on me, but I didn't let on. "'Before long the New York man began slurring his words, running them together and sticking the signals; but I had been used to all that sort of thing in taking reports, so I wasn't put out in the least. At last, when I thought the joke had gone far enough, and as the special was nearly finished, I calmly opened the key and remarked over the wire to my New York rival: "'Say, young man, change off and send with the other foot!' "'This broke the fellow up so that he turned the job over to another operator to finish, to the real discomfiture of the fellows around me.' "Friend Adams goes on to tell of other happennings at the Hub: "'One day Edison was more than delighted to pick up a complete set of Faraday's works, bringing them home at 4 A.M. and reading steadily until breakfast time, when he said, with great enthusiasm: "'Adams, I have got so much to do and life is so short, _I am going to hustle_!'" "'Then he started off to breakfast on a dead run.' "He soon opened a workshop in Boston and began making experiments. It was here that he made a working model of his vote recorder, the first invention he ever patented. "Edison has told us of this trip to Washington and how he showed that his invention could register the House vote, pro and con, almost instantaneously. The chairman of the committee saw how quickly and perfectly it worked and said to him: "'Young man, if there is any invention on earth that we _don't_ want down here, it is this. Filibustering on votes is one of the greatest weapons in the hands of a minority to prevent bad legislation, and this instrument would stop that.' "The youth felt the force of this so much that he decided from that time forth not to try to invent anything unless it would meet a genuine demand,--not from a few, but many people. "It was while in Boston that Edison grew weary of the monotonous life of a telegraph operator and began to work up an independent business along inventive lines, so that he really began his career as an inventor at the Hub. "After the vote recorder, he invented a stock ticker, and started a ticker service in Boston which had thirty or forty subscribers, and operated from a room over the Gold Exchange. * * * * * "The third talk on Mr. Edison and his inventions will be given from this broadcasting station WUK next Monday at the same hour." CHAPTER VIII OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS As the young people rose to depart, Professor Gray beckoned Bill and Gus to remain. He turned to a large table desk, took from it a roll of papers, untied and laid before the boys a number of neatly executed plans and sections--all drawn to scale. In an upper corner was pen-printed the words: Water Power Electric Plant to be erected for and on the estate of Mr. James Hooper, Fairview. Engineer and Contractor, J. R. Gray. "Boys, you see here," began the Professor, "the layout of a job to be done on the Hooper property. You know I do this sort of thing in a small way between school terms and I am told to go ahead with this at once. The amount I am to receive, on my own estimate, is ample, but naturally not very great; it covers all material, labor and a fair profit. "But now," he went on, "comes the hitch. I am compelled, by another matter which is far more important,--having been appointed one of the consulting engineers on the Great Laurel Valley Power Plant,--to desert this job almost entirely, and yet, I am bound, on the strength of my word, to see that it is completed. If I hand it over to another engineer, or a construction firm, it will cost me more than I get out of it. And naturally, while I don't expect to gain a thing, I would prefer also not to lose anything. Now, what would you fellows advise in this matter?" Bill looked at Gus and Gus looked at Bill; there was a world of meaning, of hope and hesitation, in both glances. The Professor saw this, and he spoke again: "Out with it, boys! I asked you to stay, in order to hear what you might say about it. There seems to be only one logical solution. I cannot afford to spend a lot of my own money and yet I will gladly give all of my own profits, for I must complete Mr. Hooper's job and look after my bigger task at once." "I don't suppose," said Gus, with the natural diffidence he often experienced in expressing his mind, "that we could help you." "Why, of course we can, and we will, too," said Bill, the idea breaking on him suddenly. "We can carry on the work perfectly under your occasional direction. Is that what you wanted us to say, Professor?" "I did. I hoped you would see it that way and I wanted you to acknowledge the incentive to yourselves. I am sure you can carry on the work, as you say. We have had enough of practical experimentation together, and then, what made me think of you, was that fish dam you put in for old Mr. McIlvain last summer." The boys glanced at each other again, but this time with mutual feelings of pride. Bill had interested a well-to-do farmer in making a pool below a fine spring and with his consent and some materials he had furnished. The boys had stonewalled a regular gulch, afterwards stocking the crystal clear pool they had made with landlocked salmon obtained from the state hatchery. The fish were now averaging a foot in length and many a fine meal the boys and the farmer had out of that pond. "Now, fellows, I'll divide between you the entire profits," Professor Gray began, but Bill and Gus both stopped him. "No, sir! You pay us no more than we could have got in the mill, and the rest is yours. Look at the fun we'll have, that's worth a lot." Bill always tried to be logical and he never failed to have a reason for his conclusions. "And then," he added, "this will be for you and we couldn't do enough--" "I'll see that you are paid and thank you, also," laughed the Professor. "And tomorrow morning, if it suits you, we shall start with the work, which means making a survey of the ground and listing materials. There will be a segment dam, with flood gates; about an eighth of a mile of piping; a Pelton wheel, boxed in; a generator speeded down; a two-horse-power storage battery; wiring and connections made with present lighting system in house; lodge; stables and garage;--and the thing is done if it works smoothly. The closest attention to every detail, taking the utmost pains, will be necessary and I know you will--" "Just like Edison!" Bill fairly shouted, making Professor Gray and Gus laugh heartily. The Professor said: "Eight! And we shall hope to follow his illustrious example. Tomorrow it is, then." When the two chums, elated over their sudden advancement to be professional engineers, came out on the street, they were not a little surprised to see all the girls and boys of the class waiting, and evidently for them, as they could but judge on hearing the words: "Here they come! We'll get him started. Bill knows." CHAPTER IX GUS HOLDS FORTH AGAIN "Say, old scout," cautioned Gus, in a low voice, "better not tell about our job. Let it dawn on them later." "Righto, Gus. It's nobody's business but ours. But what do the bunch want?" Bill soon found out, however, when Cora and Ted came to meet him. "We've had an argument, Terry and I, about Edison," said the girl, "and I know you can settle it. I said that--" "Hold on! Don't tell me who said anything; then it'll be fair," Bill demanded. "'O wise, wise judge!'" gibed Ted. "Ought to have a suit of ermine. Proper stunt, too. Let me put it, Cora; I'll be the court crier. Come on and let's squat on the bank like the rest. Judge, you ought to be the most elevated. Now, then, here's the dope: Did Edison really ever do anything much to help with the war?" "He did more than any other man," Bill declared promptly. "Positively! Everybody ought to know that. He invented a device so that they could smell a German submarine half a mile away, and they could tell when a torpedo was fired. Another invention turned a ship about with her prow facing the torpedo, so that it would be most likely to go plowing and not hit her, as it would with broadside on. I guess that saved many a ship and it helped to destroy lots of submarines with depth bombs. It got the Germans leery when their old submersibles failed to get in any licks and went out never to come back; it was as big a reason as any why they were so ready to quit. Well, who was right?" "I was!" announced Cora, gleefully. "Terry just can't see any good in Edison at all. He says he hires people who really make his inventions and he gets the credit for them. He says--" "I don't suppose it makes much difference what he says; he simply doesn't know what he's talk--" "You think you know, but do you? You've read a lot of gush that--" Terry began, but Gus interrupted him, almost a new thing for the quiet chap. "Listen, Terry: get right on this. Don't let a lot of foolish people influence you; people who can't ever see any real good in success and who blame everything on luck and crookedness. And Bill does know." "Anybody who tries to make Edison out a small potato," declared Bill, addressing the others, rather than the supercilious youth who had maligned his hero, "is simply ignorant of the facts. My father knew a man well who worked for Edison in his laboratory for years. He said that the stories about Edison making use of the inventions of others is all nonsense; it is Edison who has the ideas and who starts his assistants to experimenting, some at one thing, some at another, so as to find out whether the ideas are good. "He said that the yarns they tell about Edison's working straight ahead for hours and hours without food and sleep, then throwing himself on a couch for a short nap and getting up to go at it again are all exactly true, over and over again. He said that one of the boys in the shop tried to play a trick on the old man, as they call him, while he was napping on the couch. They rigged up a talking-machine on a stand and dressed it in some of Edison's old clothes, put a lullaby record on it, lugged it in, set it up in front of the couch and set it going, to express the idea that he was singing himself to sleep. But while they were at this Mr. Edison, getting on to the joke, for he generally naps with one eye open, got up and put a lot of stuffing under the couch spread, stuck his old hat on it so as to make it look as though his face was covered; then peered through the crack of a door. When the music commenced he opened the door and said: "'Boys, it won't work; music can't affect dead matter.' Then they pulled off the couch cover and all had a good laugh. "Now. you can see," Bill went on, with ever increasing enthusiasm, "just how that shows where Mr. Edison stands. Nobody can get ahead of him, and there isn't anyone with brains who knows him who doesn't admit he has more brains and is wider awake than anybody else. There's nothing that he does that doesn't show it. You have all seen his questionnaires for the men who are employed in his laboratories and you can bet they're no joke. And his inventions--they're not just the trifling things like egg-beaters, rat-traps, coat-hangers, bread-mixers, fly-swatters and lipsticks." "But some of these things are mighty cute and they coin the dough," said Ted. "Oh, they're ingenious and money-makers some of them, I'll admit, but we could get along very well without them and most of us do. But think of the real things Edison has done. The first phonograph; improving the telegraph so that six messages can be sent over the same wire at the same time; improving the telephone so that everybody can use it; collecting fine iron ore from sand and dirt by magnets; increasing the power and the lightness of the storage battery. And there are the trolleys and electric railways that have been made possible. And the incandescent electric lamp--how about that? Edison has turned his wonderful genius only to those things that benefit millions of--" "And he deserved to make millions out of it," said Ted. "I guess he has, too," offered one of the girls. "You bet, and that's what he works for: not just to benefit people," asserted Terry. "I suppose your dad and most other guys got their dough all by accident while they were trying to help other folks; eh?" Bill fired at Terry. But the rich boy walked away, his usual method to keep from getting the worst of an argument. "Oh, I wish Grace Hooper were here," Cora said. "She's no snob like Terry and wouldn't she enjoy this?" "And her dad, too. Isn't he a nice old fellow, even though he's awfully rich?" laughed Dot. "He'd have his say about this argument, grammar or no grammar. He thinks a lot of this chap he calls Eddy's son," Mary Dean declared. "Great snakes! Does he really think the wizard is the child of some guy named Eddy?" Ted queried. "Sounds so," Cora said. "But you can't laugh at him, he's so kind and good and it would hurt Grace. He would be interested in radio, too." "Wonder he hasn't got a peach of a receiver set up in his house," Lucy Shore ventured. "Is he keen for all new-fangled things?" asked Ted. "You bet he is, though somebody would have to tell him and show him first. Well, people, I'm going home; who's along?" With one accord the others got to their feet and started up or down the street. Gus and Bill went together, as always; they had much to talk about. CHAPTER X BRASS TACKS On the day following the radio lecture, true to his promise, Professor Gray led Bill and Gus to the broad acres of the Hooper estate and there, with the plans before them, they went over the ground chosen for the water-power site, comprehending every detail of the engineering task. Professor Gray was more pleased than surprised by the ready manner in which both lads took hold of the problem and even suggested certain really desirable changes. Bill indicated a better position fifty yards upstream for the dam and he sketched his idea of making a water-tight flood gate which was so ingenious that the Professor became enthusiastic and adopted it at once. After nearly a whole day spent thus along the rocky defiles of the little stream, eating their lunch beside a cold spring at the head of a miniature gulch, the trio of engineers were about to leave the spot when a gruff voice hailed them from the hilltop. Looking up they saw another group of three: an oldish man, a slim young fellow who was almost a grown man and a girl in her middle teens. The young people seemed to be quarreling, to judge from the black looks they gave each other, but the man paid them no attention. He beckoned Professor Gray to approach and came slowly down the hill to meet him, walking rather stiffly with a cane. "Well, Professor, you're beginnin' to git at it, eh? Struck any snags yit? Some job! I reckon you're not a goin' to make a heap outside the price you give me. When you goin' to git at it reg'lar?" "Right away, Mr. Hooper. To-morrow. We have been making our plans to-day and these young assistants of mine, who will principally conduct the work, are ready to start in at once. They--" "Them boys? No, sir! I want this here work done an' done right; no bunglin'. What's kids know about puttin' in water wheels an' 'letric lights? You said you was--" "These boys are no longer just kids, Mr. Hooper, and they know more than you think; all that is needed to make this job complete. Moreover, I am going to consult with them frequently by letter and I shall be entirely responsible. It is up to me, you know." Mr. Hooper evidently saw the sense in this last remark; he stood blinking his eyes at Bill and Gus and pondering. The slim youth plucked at his sleeve and said something in a low voice. Gus suddenly remembered the fellow. The youth had come into the town a week or two before. He had, without cause, deliberately kicked old Mrs. Sowerby's maltese cat, asleep on the pavement, out of his way, and Gus, a witness from across the street, had departed from his usually reticent mood to call the human beast down for it. But though Gus hoped the fellow would show resentment he did not, but walked on quickly instead. Mr. Hooper listened; then voiced a further and evidently suggested opposition: "Them lads is from the town here; ain't they? Nothin' but a lot o' hoodlums down yan. You can't expec'--" "You couldn't be more mistaken, Mr. Hooper. I'll admit there are a lot of young scamps in Fairview, but these boys, William Brown and Augustus Grier, belong to a more self-respecting bunch. I'll answer for them in every way." "Of course, Dad, Professor Gray knows about them. Billy and Gus are in our class at school." This from the girl who had joyfully greeted the Professor and the boys, yodeling a school yell from the hillside. Then she shot an aside at the slim youth: "You're a regular, downright simpleton, Thad, and forever looking for trouble. Don't listen to him, Dad." This appeared to settle the matter. Mr. Hooper squared his shoulders and grinned broadly, adding: "Well, I ain't just satisfied 'bout them knowin' how, but go to it your own way, Professor. I'm a goin' to watch it, you know; not to interfere with your plans an' ways, but it's got to be done right. If it goes along free an' fine, I ain't goin' to kick." The Professor explained that they had further work to do on the plans and must be going back. He took leave of Mr. Hooper and the daughter, and retreated with the boys as hurriedly as Bill could manage his handy crutch. They all proceeded silently in crossing the broad field, but when in the road Bill had to voice his thoughts: "I expect that old fellow'll make it too hot for us." "Not for a minute; you need not consider that at all. Of course it would be more satisfactory if Mr. Hooper could be assured at once of your real ability, but it will have to grow on him. Just let him see what you can do; that's all." "I rather expect we can frame up something that will satisfy him and Bill can spring it," said Gus. "In just what way, can you imagine?" queried the Professor. "Some geometrical stunt, maybe; triangulation, or--" "Why, sure! That's just it!" exploded Bill. "I know how we can get him: Parallax! Shucks, it'll be easy! Just leave it to me." "Looks as though some kind of Napoleonic strategy were going to be pulled off," asserted Professor Gray, laughing. "But, boys, keep in mind that Mr. Hooper, while a rough-and-ready old chap, with a big fortune made in cattle dealing, is really an uncut diamond; a fine old fellow at heart, as you will see." CHAPTER XI ENGINEERING Two busy days followed during which Bill and Gus went to the city with Professor Gray to purchase materials in full for the power plant. They also had cement, reinforcing iron, lumber for forms and a small tool house hauled out to the power site and they drove the first stakes to show the position of wheel and pipe line. Mr. Hooper did not put in an appearance. On the third morning the Professor bade the boys good-by, exacting the promise that they would write frequently of their progress. They had privately formed an engineering company with Professor Gray as president, Gus as vice-president, which was largely honorary, and Bill as general manager and secretary. Advance payments necessary for extra labor and their own liberal wages were deposited at the Fairview Bank by Professor Gray and the boys were given a drawing account thereon, with a simple expense book to keep. That afternoon, dressed in new overalls and blouses, with a big, good-natured colored man to help with the laboring work, the boys were early on the job, at first making a cement mixing box; then Bill drove the center stake thirty feet below where the dam was to be placed and from which, using a long cord, the curve of the structure twenty-nine feet wide, was laid out upstream. At the spot chosen the rock-bound hillsides rose almost perpendicularly from the narrow level ground that was little above the bed of the stream; it was the narrowest spot between the banks. George, the colored fellow, was set to work digging into one bank for an end foundation; the other bank held a giant boulder. The boys were giving such close attention to their labors that they did not see observers on the hilltop. Presently the gruff voice that they had heard before hailed them from close by and they looked up to see Mr. Hooper and the slim youth approaching. The boys had heard that this Thaddeus was the old man's nephew and that he called the Hooper mansion his home. "What you drivin' that there stake down there for? Up here's where the Perfesser said the dam was to set," Mr. Hooper demanded. "Yes, right here," Bill replied. "But it is to be curved upstream and that stake is our center." "What's the idea of curvin' it?" "So that it will be stronger and withstand the pressure. You can't break an arch, you know, and to push this out the hills would have to spread apart." "I kind o' see." The old man was thoughtful and looked on silently while the dam breast stakes were being driven every three feet at the end of a stretched cord, the other end pivoting on the center stake below, this giving the required curve. "How deep you goin' into that hill? Seems like the water can't git round it now." Mr. Hooper, at a word from Thad, seemed inclined to criticize. "We must get a firm end, preferably against rock," Bill explained. "Shucks! Reckon the clay ain't goin' to give none. How much fall you goin' to git on that Pullet wheel?" "Pelton wheel. About eighty feet, Professor Gray figured it roughly. We'll take it later exactly." "Kin you improve on the Perfesser?" "No, but he made only a rough calculation. We'll take it both by levels and by triangulation, using an old sextant of the Professor's. It isn't a diff----" "What's try-angleation?" Mr. Hooper was becoming interested. "The method of reading angles of different degrees and in that way getting heights and distances. That's the way they measure mountains that can't be climbed and tell the distance of stars." "Shucks, young feller! I don't reckon anybody kin tell the distance o' the stars; they only put up a bluff on that. They ain't no ackshall way o' gittin' distance onless you lay a tape measure, er somethin' like it on the ground. These here surveyors all does it; I had 'em go round my place." Bill smiled and shook his head. "I guess you just haven't given it any consideration. There are lots of easier and better ways. Triangulation. Now, for instance, suppose an army comes to a wide river and wants to get across. They can't send anybody over to stretch a line; there may be enemy sharp-shooters that would get them and it is too wide, anyway. But they must know how many pontoon boats and how much flooring plank they must have to bridge it and so they sight a tree or a rock on the other shore and take the distance across by triangulation. Or suppose--" "Never heard of it. Why wouldn't surveyors git from here to yan that a-way, 'stead o' usin' chains? Could you----?" "Chaining it is a little more accurate, where they have a lot of curves and angles and the view is cut off by woods and hills. Yes, we can work triangulation; we could tell the distance from the hilltop to your house if we could see it and we had the time." "Bunk! Don't let 'em bluff you that a-way, Uncle. Make 'em prove it." Thad showed his open hostility thus. Gus dropped his shovel and came from the creekside where he had begun to dig alongside of the stakes for the foundation. He was visibly and, for him, strangely excited as he walked up to Thad. "See here, fellow, Bill can do it and if there is anything in it we will do it, too! You are pretty blamed ignorant!" Mr. Hooper threw back his head and let out a roar of mirth. "Well, I reckon that hits me, too. An' I reckon it might be true in a lot o' things. But Thad an' me, we kind o' doubt this." "We sure do. I'd bet five dollars you couldn't tell it within half a mile an' it ain't much more than that." "I'll take your bet and dare you to hold to it," said Gus. "Bet 'em, Thad; bet 'em! I'll stake you." "Oh, we don't want your money; betting doesn't get anywhere and it isn't just square, anyway." Bill was smilingly endeavoring to restore good feeling. "Now, Mr. Hooper, we're not fixed to make a triangulation measurement to-day, but----" "Not fixed? Of course not. Begins with excuses," sneered Thad. "But to-morrow we'll bring out Professor Gray's transit and show you the way it's done." "Oh, yes, Uncle; they'll show us--to-morrow, or next day, or next week. Bunk!" Thad was plainly trying to be offensive. "You'll grin on the other side of your hatchet face, fellow, when we do show you," said Gus. "Now, Gus, cut out the scrapping. You can't blame him, nor Mr. Hooper, for doubting it if they've never looked into the matter. We can bring the transit out this afternoon for taking the levels. Be here after dinner, Mr. Hooper, if you can." "I'll be here, lads," said the ex-cattle-dealer. "An' I reckon my nephew'll come along, too." CHAPTER XII DISTANCE LENDS ENCHANTMENT Mr. Hooper, his nephew, his daughter and another girl, fat and dumpy, were at the power site before two o'clock, and without more ado Bill asked Gus to bring the transit to the comparatively level field on top of the hill. "Now, Mr. Hooper, please don't think we're doing this in a spirit of idle controversy; we only want to show you something interesting." "That's all right, lad; an' I ain't above learnin', old as I am. But Thad here, he's different." Mr. Hooper gave Bill and Gus a long wink. "Thad, he don't reckon he can be learned a thing, an' he's so blame sure--say, Thad, how 'bout that bet?" "We don't want to bet anything; that only--" began Bill, but Gus was less pacific. "Put up, or shut up," he said, drawing a borrowed five dollar note out of his pocket and glaring at Thad. The slim youth did not respond. "He's afraid to bet," jeered the daughter. "Hasn't got the nerve, or the money." "I ain't afraid to bet." Thad brought forth a like amount in bills. "Uncle'll hold the stakes. You got to tell how far it is from here to the house without ever stepping the distance." "We'll make a more simple demonstration than that," Bill declared. "It'll be the same thing and take less time and effort. Mr. Hooper, take some object out there in the field; something that we can see; anything." "Here, Gracie, you take a stake there an' go out yan an' stick it up. Keep a-goin' till I holler." Both girls carried out these directions, the fat one falling down a couple of times, tripped by the long grass and getting up shaking with laughter. The boys were to learn that she was a chum of Grace Hooper, that her name was Sophronia Doyle, though commonly nicknamed "Skeets." The stake was placed. Bill drove another at his feet, set the transit over it, peeped through it both ways and at his direction, after stretching the steel tape, Gus drove a third stake exactly sixty feet from the transit at an angle of ninety degrees from a line to the field stake. "Now, folks," explained Bill, "the stake out yonder is A, this one is B and the one at the other end of the sixty-foot base line is C. Please remember that." The transit was then placed exactly over the stake C and, peeping again, Bill found the angle from the base line to the stake B and the line to stake A to be 78 degrees. Thereupon Gus produced a long board, held up one end and rested the other on a stake, while Bill went to work with a six-foot rule, a straight edge and a draughtsman's degree scale. Bill elucidated: "Now, then, to get out of figuring, which is always hard to understand, we'll just lay the triangulation out by scale, which is easily understood. One-eighth of an inch equals one foot. This point is stake B and the base line to C is this line at right angles, or square across the board. C stake is 7-1/2 inches from B which is equal to sixty feet on the scale, that is sixty one-eighth inches. Now, this line, parallel to the edge of the board, is the exact direction of your stake A. Do you all follow that? "The direction to your stake was 78 degrees from the base line at C. This degree scale will give us that." Bill carefully centered the latter instrument, sharpened his pencil and marked the angle; then placing the straight edge on the point C and the degree mark he extended the line until it crossed the other outward line. At this crossing he marked a letter A and turned to his auditors. "This is your stake out yonder. The rule shows it to be a little over 34-5/8 inches from the base line at B. That is, by the scale, a few inches over 277 feet and that is the distance from here to where Grace stuck it into the ground. Our hundred-foot steel tape line is at your service, Mr. Hooper." Mr. Hooper merely glanced at Bill. He took up the tape line and spoke to his nephew. "Git a holt o' this thing, Thad, an' let's see if--" Grace interrupted him. "No, Dad; never let Thad do it! He'd make some mistake accidentally on purpose. I'll help you." There was utter silence from all while Grace carried out the end of the tape and placed her sticks, Mr. Hooper following after. Skeets borrowed a pencil and a bit of paper from Gus and went along with Grace to keep tally, but she dropped the pencil in the grass, stepped on and broke it, was suffused with embarrassment and before she could really become useful, the father and daughter had made the count mentally and they came back to the base line, still without saying a word, a glad smile on the girl's face and something between wonder and surprise on the old man's features. Still without a word Mr. Hooper came straight to Bill, thrust out his big hand to grasp that of the smiling boy and in the other hand was held the bills of the wager, which he extended toward Gus. "Yours, lad," he said. "We made the distance two hundred and seventy-eight foot. I reckon you git the money." Thad stood for a moment, nonplussed, a scowl on his face. Suddenly he recovered. "Hold on! That's more than they said it was. The money's mine." "Shucks, you dumb fool! Maybe a couple o' inches. I reckon we made the mistake, fer we wasn't careful. It gits me they was that near it. The cash is his'n." Gus took the bills, thrust his own into his pocket again and handed the two dollar note and the three ones to Skeets. "Please give them to him for me," indicating Thad, "I don't want his money." "Not I," said the fat girl; "it isn't my funeral. Let him do the weeping and you take and give them to the poor." Gus offered them to Grace, who also refused, shaking her head. Bill took the bills, and, limping over to Thad, handed him his wager. "You mustn't feel sore at us," counseled the youthful engineer. "This was only along the lines of experiment and--and fun." But though Bill meant this in the kindliest spirit of comradeship, the boy sensed a feeling of extreme animosity that he was at a loss to account for. Bill backed off, further speech toward conciliation becoming as lame as his leg. The others witnessed this and Grace said, quite heatedly: "Oh, you can't make a silk purse out of a pig's ear. Thad's an incurable grouch," at which Skeets laughed till she shook, and Mr. Hooper nodded his head. "Lad," he said, "you're a wonder an' I ain't got no more to say ag'in' your doin' this work here. Go ahead with it your own way. But this I am abossin': to-morrow's half day, I reckon, so both o' you come over to the house nigh 'long about noon an' set at dinner with us. You're more'n welcome." CHAPTER XIII COUNTER INFLUENCES Thereafter, having been fully convinced by the demonstration and fully assured of the precise accuracy in the work on the power plant, Mr. Hooper treated the boys with the utmost consideration and confidence. The owner of the great estate came down to see them every day and chatted as familiarly as though he had been a lifelong crony of their own age. From time to time the boys were taken to dinner at the big house; they were given access to the library, and they found some time for social and sportive pastimes with the young folks whom Grace invited to her home. Throughout all this Bill shone as an entertainer, a mental uplift that was really welcome, so spontaneous and keen were his talks and comments on people and things. Gus, though having little practice, held his own at tennis and golf; in swimming races and other impromptu sports he greatly excelled; and when a young fellow who bore the reputation of an all-round athlete came for the week-end from the city, Gus put on the gloves with him and punched the newcomer all over an imaginary ring on the lawn to the delight of Mr. Hooper, Grace and Skeets, as well as the admiring Bill. Throughout all this, also, there was an element of ill feeling, an often open expression of antagonism toward the boys, which probably the other guests all tensed unpleasantly, but which the contented, jovial host and his impetuous and volatile daughter hardly recognized or thought of. Thaddeus, the thin-faced, pale, stoop-shouldered, indolent, cigarette-smoking nephew, though often treated with slight courtesy, continually pushed himself to the front, compelling consideration apparently for the sole purpose of exerting a counter-influence upon the popularity of Bill and Gus, especially the latter. The youth even went so far at times as to attempt an interference in the power-plant work, declaring that it did not proceed rapidly enough and that certain methods were at fault, to all of which Mr. Hooper turned a deaf ear. There was nothing else but open warfare between Grace and Thad, Skeets also echoing the daughter's hostility, while the nephew easily pretended to ignore it, or to regard the sharp words aimed at him as jokes. He treated Skeets with as much contempt as her jovial manner permitted, but now and then it could be seen that his pale eyes glared at Grace's back in a way that seemed almost murderous. One day Gus and George, the colored man, were working at the far end of the curved dam breast, the stone work having risen to four feet in height. Bill was stooping to inspect the cement on the near end and the view of the hill was cut off. Presently voices came to him, mostly a sort of good-natured protest in monosyllables; then Thad's tones, low enough to keep Gus from hearing. "I tell you, Uncle, they're putting it over on you. It ain't any of my business, but I hate to see you having your leg pulled." "'Taint!" was the brief answer. "Well, if you don't want to think so; but I know it. Look at this dam: not over two feet thick and expected to hold tons of water. Wait till a flood hits it. Will it go out like a stack of cards, or won't it? And they're not using enough cement; one-fourth only with the sand." "Grouting, broken stones," growled Mr. Hooper. "Not sufficient, as you'll see. And does anybody want to say that a two-inch pipe is going to run a water wheel with force enough to turn a generator that will drive thirty or forty lights? Bosh!" "They ought to know." "You think they do, but have you any proof of it? What they don't know would fill a libra--" "How 'bout that there triang--what you call it? They knew that." "Oh, just a draughtsman's smart trick; used to catch people. I'm talking about things that are practical. You'll see. I'll bet you these blamed fools are going to strike a snag one of these days, or they'll leave things so that there'll be a fall-down. But what need they care after they get their money?" Bill heard footsteps retreating and dying away; Mr. Hooper went over to Gus and, with evident hesitation, asked: "Do you reckon you're makin' the stone work thick enough? It does look most terrible weak." "Sure, Mr. Hooper. Bill'll explain that to you. Professor Gray and he worked out the exact resistance and the pressure." And then Bill limped over; he had left his crutch on the hillside, and he said, half laughing: "This wall, Mr. Hooper, can't give way, even if it had the ocean behind it, unless the stone and cement were mashed and crumbled by pressure. The only thing that could break it would be about two days' hammering with a sledge, or a big charge of blasting powder, and even that couldn't do a great deal of damage." "All right, me lad; you ought to know an' I believe you." Mr. Hooper's genial good humor returned to him immediately; it was evident that he was from time to time unpleasantly influenced by the soft and ready tongue of his nephew. The old gentleman turned toward home and disappeared; a short time afterward Thad came and stood near where Gus was working, but he said nothing, nor did Gus address him. Then the slim youth also departed and hardly half an hour elapsed before down the hill came Grace and Skeets, the latter stumbling several times, nearly pitching headlong and yet most mirthful over her own near misfortune; but little Miss Hooper seemed unusually serious-minded. A lively exchange of jests and jolly banter commenced between Skeets and Gus, who could use his tongue if forced to; but presently Grace left her laughing chum and came over to where Bill had resumed his inspection. "They can't hear us, can they?" she queried, glancing back at the others. "Why, I expect not," Bill replied, surprised and mystified. "If I say something to you, real confidentially, you won't give me away, will you? Honest, for sure?" "Honest, I won't; cross my heart; wish I may die; snake's tongue; butcher knife bloody!" "That ought to do, and anybody with any sense would believe you, anyway. But, then, it will be a big temptation for you--" "Resistance is my nickname; you may trust me." "Well, then, in some way," said the girl, dropping her voice still lower, "you are going to find that this work here won't be--it won't go--not just as you expect it to; it--it won't be just plain sailing as it ought to be and would be if you were let alone. There are things," she put a forceful accent on the last word, "that will interfere--oh, sometimes dreadfully, maybe, and I felt that I must tell you, but--" Bill, wondering, glanced up at her; she stood with her pretty face turned away, a troubled look in her bright eyes, the usually smiling lips compressed with determination. The boy's quick wits began to fathom the drift of her intention and the cause thereof; he must know more to determine her precise attitude. "I must believe that you mean this in real kindness and friendliness toward Gus and me." "Of course I do; else I would not have told you a thing," Grace said, blushing a little. "I think it must be something real and that you know. This thing, then, as you call it, is more likely a person--some person who is working against us. You mean that; don't you?" "Please don't ask me too much. I think you're very quick and intelligent and that you'll find out and be on your guard." "I think I understand. Naturally you must feel a certain loyalty toward a relation, or at least if not just that, toward one who has your father's good will. Gus and I surely appreciate your warning; you'll want me to tell him, of course." "I don't know. Gus is not so cool-headed as you are; I was afraid he might--" "Trust Gus. He and I work together in everything. And I do thank you, Grace, more than I can express. Well keep our eyes open." CHAPTER XIV FURTHER OPPOSITION The dam was built, the flood gate in place, the pipe valve set for further extension of the line down the little valley; and as the pipe had all come cut and threaded, Bill and George were working with wrenches and white lead to get the sections tightly jointed against the pressure that would result. Gus, the carpenter, was laying out the framing of heavy timbers reinforced with long bolts and set in cement on which the Pelton wheel was to be mounted. Several days were thus spent; the water was pouring over the spillway of the dam and it was with satisfaction that the boys found, after an inspection one quitting hour, that the wall, five feet high, was not leaking a drop. That night Gus came over to Bill's home and the two went over the plans until late; then Gus chatted awhile on the steps, Bill standing in the doorway. Suddenly, from over toward the northeast, in the direction of the upper tract of the Hooper estate, there was a flash in the sky and a dull reverberation like a very distant or muffled blast. Bill was talking and hardly noticed it, but Gus had been looking in that direction and, calling Bill's attention, wondered as to the cause of the odd occurrence. In the morning, as the boys descended the hill, George, who was always on hand half an hour ahead of time, came up to meet them and was plainly excited. "Mist' Bill an' Gus, de dam's done busted a'ready an' de water's jes' a-pourin' through t' beat ol' Noah's flood! Whut you 'low was de because o' dis givin' way?" "By cracky, Bill!" was Gus' comment as they stood looking at the break which seemed to involve a yard square of the base and cracks, as though from a shock. "You know and I know that the water didn't push this out. How about that flash and bang we heard last night?" "I can't see how the water could have done it," said Bill, who evidently had more talent for construction than for determining destruction. "There's something behind this that I don't like and I'm going to find out about it," said Gus, his usually quiet demeanor entirely gone. "You ought to be able," he continued, "to put two and four together. How about that warning Grace gave you? And how did she know anything out of which to give it? And why wouldn't she give any names?" "Well, I have wondered; I thought I saw why," Bill said. "Of course you see why, old scout. And if you'll leave it to me, you'll know why and all the how and the what of it, too." Gus was never boastful; now he was merely determined. The boys opened the flood gate and after the water no longer flowed through the break, they began a closer examination that surprised them. Mr. Hooper, Thad, Grace and Skeets descended the hill. Bill, after greetings, merely pointed to the break. Mr. Hooper started to say something about the structure's being too weak; Thad laughed, and Grace, looking daggers at him, turned away and pulled Skeets with her. Gus, gazing at Thad, addressed Mr. Hooper. "Yes, too weak to stand the force of an explosion. It wasn't the water pressure. Mr. Hooper; you'll notice that the stones there are forced in against the water; not out with it. And the cracks--they're further evidence. We heard the explosion about eleven o'clock; saw the light of the flash, too." "Shucks! You reckon that's so? Got any notion who it was that done it?" "Yes, sir; got a big notion who it was; but we won't say till we get it on him for sure. And then's it's going to be a sorry day for him." Gus was still gazing straight at Thad and that youth, first attempting to ignore this scrutiny and then trying to match it, at last grew restless and turned away. Mr. Hooper also had his eyes on Thad; the old gentleman looked much troubled. He raised his voice loud enough for Thad to hear as he walked off: "We'll git a watchman an' put him on the job,--that's what we'll do! They ain't goin' to be any more o' this sort o' thing." And Bill chimed in: "Good idea. There's George, Mr. Hooper; we're nearly through with him and we've been wondering what to put him at, for we'd be sorry to lose him." So it was arranged then and there, much to the satisfaction of everyone, especially the old darkey, and Mr. Hooper, saying nothing more but looking as though there were a death in his family, started away toward home. CHAPTER XV MR. EDDY'S SON'S SONS It took but a short time to repair the break; before many other days had passed the Pelton wheel, a direct action turbine, was going at a tremendous rate, driven by a nozzled stream from the pipe. It was necessary to belt it down from a small to a larger pulley to run the generator at a slower speed, which was 1200 a minute. Then came the boxing in, the wiring to the house, and the making of connections with the wiring to the house after the town company's service was dispensed with, and it was a proud moment when Gus turned on the first bulb and got a full and brilliant glare. Mr. Hooper clasped the hands of both boys, compelled them to spend the evening, ordered special refreshments for the occasion, told Grace to invite a lot of the young folks and when, at dusk all the lights of the house went on with an illumination that fairly startled the guests, the host proposed a cheer for the boys which found an eager and unanimous response. Mr. Hooper attempted to make a speech, with his matronly and contented wife laughing and making sly digs at his effort, and his daughter encouraging him. "Now, young fellers," he began, "these boys--uh, Mister Bill Brown an' Mister 'Gustus Grier,--I says to them,--in the first place, I says: 'Perfesser, these here kids don't know enough to build a chicken coop,' I says, an' Perfesser Gray he says to me, he says, he would back them fellers to build a battleship or tunnel through to Chiny, he says. So I says: 'You kids kin go ahead,' I says, an' these blame boys they went ahead an' shucks! you all see what they, Bill an' Gus, has done. You fellers has got to have a lot o' credit an' you are goin' to git it! "Now, my wife she don't think I'm any good at makin' a speech an 'I ain't, but I'm a-makin' it jes' the same fer these boys, Bill an' Gus, b'jinks! They got to git credit fer what they done, jes' two kids doin' a reg'lar man's job. An' I reckon that not even that feller Eddy's son, that there chap they call the 'Wizard of Menlo Park,' I reckon he couldn't 'lectrocute nothin' no better'n these here boys, Bill an' Gus, has lighted this here domycile. An'--oh, you kin laugh, Ma Hooper, b'jinks, but I reckon you're as proud o' these here young Eddy's son's sons as I be. Now, Mister Bill an' Mister Gus, you kin bet all these folks'd like to have a few words. Now, as they say in prayer meetin', 'Mister Bill Brown'll lead us in a speech.' Hooray!" Bill seized his crutch, got it carefully under his arm and arose. He was not just a rattle-box, a mere word slinger, for he always had something to say worth listening to; talking to a crowd was no great task for him and he had a genius for verbal expression. "I hope my partner in mechanical effort and now in misery will let me speak for him, too, for he couldn't get up here and say a word if you'd promise him the moon for a watch charm. Our host, Mr. Hooper, would have given us enough credit if he had just stated that we were two persevering ginks, bent on making the best of a good chance and using, perhaps with some judgment, the directions of our superior, Professor Gray, along with some of our own ideas that fitted, in. But to compare us and our small job here, which was pretty well all mapped out for us, to the wonderful endeavors of Thomas Alva Edison is more than even our combined conceit can stand for. If we deserved such praise, even in the smallest way, you'd see us with our chests swelled out so far that we'd look like a couple of garden toads. "Edison! Mr. Hooper, did you, even in your intended kindness in flattering Gus and myself, really stop to think what it could mean to compare us with that wonderful man? I know you could not mean to belittle him, but you certainly gave us an honor far beyond what any other man in the world, regarding electrical and mechanical things, could deserve. If we could hope to do a hundredth part of the great things Edison has done, it would, as Professor Gray says, indeed make life worth living. "But we thank you, Mr. Hooper, for your kind words and for inviting all these good friends and our classmates, and we thank you and good Mrs. Hooper for this bully spread and everything!" Bill started to sit down amidst a hearty hand-clapping, but Cora Siebold waved her hand for silence and demanded: "Tell us more about Edison, Billy, as you did after the talk over the radio! You see, we missed the last of it and I'll bet we'd all like to hear more--" "Yes!" "Yes!" "Sure!" "Me, too!" "Go on, Billy!" came from Dot Myers, Skeets, Grace Hooper, Ted Bissell and Gus. In her enthusiastic efforts at showing an abundant appreciation, the fat girl wriggled too far out on the edge of her chair, which tilted and slid out from under her, causing sufficient hilarious diversion for Bill to take a sneak out of the room. When Cora and Grace captured and brought him back, the keen edge of the idea had worn off enough for him to dodge the issue. "I'll tell you what we're going to do," he said, and it will be better than anything we can think of just between us here. You all read, didn't you, that the lectures were to be repeated by request in two months after the last talk? We didn't hear it because Professor went away, and now three weeks of the time have gone by. But I'll tell you what Gus and I are going to do: we're going to build a radio receiver and get it done in time to get those talks on Edison all over again." "Really?" "Do you think you can do it?" "If Billy says he can, why, the--" "Oh, you Edison's son!" This from the irrepressible Ted. "Go to it, Bill!" "Can we all listen in?" "Why, of course," said Bill, replying to the last question. "Everybody'll be invited and there will be a horn. But don't forget this: We've only got a little over four weeks to do it and it's some job! So, if you're disappointed--" "We won't be." "No; Bill'll get there." "Hurrah for old Bill!" "Say, people, enough of this. I'm no candidate for President of the United States, and remember that Gus is in this, too, as much as I am." "Hurrah for Gus!" This was a general shout. Gus turned and ran. CHAPTER XVI THE DOUBTERS The party was on the point of breaking up, with much laughter over the embarrassment of poor Gus, when Skeets unexpectedly furnished further entertainment. She had paused to lean comfortably against a center table, but its easy rolling casters objected to her weight, rolled away hastily and deposited her without warning on the floor. Ted, who gallantly helped her to her feet, remarked, with a grunt due to extreme effort, that she really might as well stand up or enlist the entire four legs of a chair to support her. Bill, about to take leave of the host and hostess, felt a slight jerk at his sleeve and looking round was surprised to find Thad at his elbow. The youth said in a low voice: "Want to see you out yonder among the trees. Give the rest the slip. Got a pipe of an idea." Bill nodded, wondering much. A moment later Mr. Hooper was repeating that he was proud of the work done by the boys and glad that he had trusted them. Then he added: "But say, young feller, much as I believe in you and Gus, seein' your smartness, I got to doubt all that there bunk you give them young people 'bout that there what you call radier. I been borned a long time--goin' on to seventy year now,--an' I seen all sorts of contraptions like reapers an' binders, ridin' plows, typewritin'-machines, telephones, phonygraphs, flyin'-machines, submarines an' all such, but b'jinks, I ain't a-believin' that nobody kin hear jes' common talk through the air without no wires. An' hundreds o' miles! 'Tain't natch'all an' 'taint possible now, is it?" "Why, yes, Mr. Hooper; it's both poss--" "Come on, Billy! Good-night, Mr. Hooper and Mrs. Hooper. We all had a dandy time." And Bill was led away. But he was able, by hanging back a little, to whisper to Gus that he was on the track of something from Thad,--for Bill could only think that the young man would make a confession or commit himself in some way. "See you in the morning," he added and turned back. Thad was waiting and called to Bill from his seat on a bench beneath the shade of a big maple. The fellow plunged at once into his subject, evidently holding the notion that youth in general possesses a shady sense of honor. "See here, Brown. I think I get you and I believe you've got wit enough to get Uncle Hooper. Did he say anything to you as you came out about being shy on this radio business?" Bill nodded. "Say, he don't believe it's any more possible than a horse car can turn into a buzzard! Fact! He told me you fellows might fool him on a lot of things and that you were awful smart for kids, but he'd be hanged for a quarter of beef if you could make him swallow this bunk about talking through the air. You know the way he talks." "I think he can and will be convinced," said Bill, "and you can't blame him for his notion, for he has never chanced to inquire about radio and I expect he doesn't read that department in the paper. If he meets a plain statement about radio broadcasting or receiving, it either makes no impression on him, or he regards it as a sort of joke. But, anyway, what of it?" "Why, just this and you ought to catch on to it without being told: Unk's a stubborn old rat and he hasn't really a grain of sense, in spite of all the money he made. All you've got to do is to egg him on as if you thought it might be a little uncertain and then sort o' dare to make a big bet with him. I'll get busy and tell him that this radio business is the biggest kind of an expert job and that you fellows are blamed doubtful about it. Then, when you get your set working and let Unk listen in, he'll pay up and we'll divide the money. See? Easy as pie. Or we might work it another way: I'll make the bet with him and you fellows let on to fall down. Or we might--" "Well, I've listened to your schemes," said Bill, "and I'm going to say this about them: I think you are the dirtiest, meanest skunk I ever ran across. You--" "Say, now, what's the matter?" "You're a guest under your uncle's roof; eating his grub, accepting his hospitality, pretending to be his friend--" "Aw, cut that out, now! You needn't let on you're so awful fine." "And then deliberately trying to hatch a scheme to rob him! Of all the rotten, contemptible--" Unable to voice his righteous indignation, Bill clenched his fist and struck Thad square in the eye. Thad had risen and was standing in front of Bill, trembling with rage as impotent as though _he_ were little and lame, leaning, like Bill, on the crutch a less valiant cripple would have used instead of his bare fist. With a look of fiendish hatred, instead of returning blow for blow, Thad made a sudden grab and tore Bill's crutch out of the hand which had felt no impulse to use it in defense against his able-bodied antagonist. "Now, you blow to Uncle and I'll break this crutch!" Strange, isn't it, how we often are reminded of funny things even in the midst of danger? Bill, a cripple and unable to move about with the agility needed to fend off a cowardly attack by this miserable piker, showed the stuff he was made of when he burst out laughing, for he was reminded by this threat of that old yarn about a softy's threatening to break the umbrella of his rival found in the vestibule of his girl's house, then going out and praying for rain! Thad, astonished at Bill's sudden mirth, held the crutch mid-air, and demanded with a malignant leer: "Huh! Laugh, will you?" "Go ahead and break it, but it won't be a circumstance to what I'll do to you. I can imagine your uncle--" "So? Listen, you pusillanimous, knock-kneed shrimp? I'm going to mash your jaw so you'll never wag it again! And right now, too, you--" Possibly there was as much determination back of this as any evil intent, but it also was doomed to failure. There was a quick step from the deeper shadows and a figure loomed suddenly in front of Thad who, with uplifted crutch, was still glaring at Bill. Only two words were spoken, a "_You_, huh?" from the larger chap; then a quick tackle, a short straining scuffle, and Thad was thrown so violently sidewise and hurtled against the bench from which Bill had just risen, that it and Thad went over on the ground together. The bench and the lad seemed to lie there equally helpless. Gus picked up the crutch and handed it to his chum. "Let's go. He won't be able to get up till we've gone." But as they passed out from among the shadows there followed them a threat which seemed to be bursting with the hatred of a demon: "Oh, I'll get even with you two little devils. I'll blow you to--" The two boys looked at each other and only laughed. "Notice his right eye when you see him again," chuckled Bill. CHAPTER XVII THE UNEXPECTED "Where did you come from, Gus?" Bill asked, still inclined to laugh. "The road. Slipped away from the others for I was wondering whether you might not get into trouble. Couldn't imagine that chump would spring anything that wouldn't make you mad, and I knew you'd talk back. So I did the gumshoe." "Well, I suppose he would have made it quite interesting for me and I am eternally grateful to you. If it weren't for you, Gus, I guess, I'd have a hard time in--" "By cracky, if it weren't for you, old scout, where would I be? Nowhere, or anywhere, but never somewhere." "That sounds to me something like what Professor Gray calls a paradox," laughed Bill. "I don't suppose you're going to peach on Thad," Gus offered. "No; but wouldn't I like to? It's a rotten shame to have that lowdown scamp under Mr. Hooper's roof. It's a wonder Grace doesn't give him away; she must know what a piker he is." "Bill, it's really none of our business," Gus said. "Well, see you in the morning early." The boys wished once more to go over carefully all the completed details of the water power plant; they had left the Pelton wheel flying around with that hissing blow of the water on the paddles and the splashing which made Bill think of a circular log saw in buckwheat-cake batter. The generator, when thrown in gear, had been running as smoothly as a spinning top; there were no leaks in the pipe or the dam. But now they found water trickling from a joint that showed the crushing marks of a sledge, the end of the nozzle smashed so that only enough of the stream struck the wheel to turn it, and there was evidence of sand in the generator bearings. Then appeared George, with an expression of mingled sorrow, shame, wonder and injured pride on his big ebony features, his eyes rolling about like those of a dying calf. At first he was mute. "Know anything about this business, George?" asked Bill. "Don't know a thing but what Ah does know an' dat's a plenty. What's happened here?" "The plant has been damaged; that's all." "Damage? When? Las' night, close on t' mawnin'? Well, suh, Ah 'low that there ghos' done it." "Ghost? What--where was any ghost?" "Right yer at de tool house. Come walkin' roun' de corner fo' Ah could grab up man stick an' Ah jes' lef' de place." "What? Ran away and from your duty? You were put here to guard the plant; not to let any old--" "Didn't 'low t' guard it 'gainst no ghos'es. Dey don' count in de contrac'. Folks is one thing an' ghos'es--" "Ghosts! Bosh! There's no such thing as a ghost! If you had swung your club at the silly thing you'd have knocked over some dub of a man that we could pretty well describe right now, and saved us a heap of trouble and expense--and you'd have kept your job!" Bill was disgusted and angry. "Lawsee! Ah ain't gwine lose mah job jes' fo' dodgin' a ghos', is I?" "What did this fellow look like?" asked Gus. "Ah nevah could tell 'bout it; didn't take no time for' t' look sharp. Ah wuz on'y jes' leavin'." "Now, see here, George," said Bill, his native gentleness dominating, "if you'll promise to say nothing about this, keep on the job and grab the next ghost, we'll let you stay on. And we'll make an awful good guess when we tell you that you'll find the ghost is Mr. Hooper's nephew. If you do grab him, George, and lock him in the tool house, we'll see that you're very nicely rewarded,--a matter of cold cash. Are you on?" "Ah shore is, an' Ah'll git him, fo' Ah reckon he's gwine come again. 'Tain't no fun tacklin' whut looks lak a ghos', but Ah reckon Ah'll make that smahty think he's real flesh an' blood fo' Ah gits through with him!" The boys were two days making repairs, which time encroached upon their plan to get their promised radio receiver into action. Having no shop nor proper tools for finer work, they would be handicapped, for they had decided, because of the pleasure and satisfaction in so doing, to make many of the necessary parts that generally are purchased outright. Bill made the suggestion, on account of this delay, that they abandon their original plan, but Gus, ever hopeful, believed that something might turn up to carry out their first ideas. The afternoon that they had everything in normal condition again, Mr. Hooper came down to see them; he knew nothing of the tampering with the work, but it became evident at once that his nephew had slyly and forcibly put it into his head that amateur radio construction was largely newspaper bunk, without any real foundation of fact. Thad may have had some new scheme, but at any rate the unlettered old man would swallow pretty nearly everything Thad said, even though he often repudiated Thad's acts. Again Mr. Hooper, Bill and Gus got on the subject of radio and the old gentleman repeated his convictions: "I ain't sayin' you boys can't do wonders, an' I'm fer you all the time, but I'm not goin' t' b'lieve you kin do what's pretty nigh out o' reason. Listen to me, now, fer a minute: If you fellers kin rig up a machine to fetch old man Eddy's son's talk right here about two hundred an' fifty mile, I'll hand out to each o' you a good hundred dollars; yes, b'jinks. I'll make it a couple a hun--" "No, Mr. Hooper, we value your friendship altogether too much to take your money and that's too much like a wager, anyway." Bill was most earnest. "But you must take our word for it that it can be done." "Fetch old man Eddy's son's voice--!" "Just that exactly--similar things have been done a-plenty. People are talking into the radio broadcasters and their voices are heard distinctly thousands of miles. But, Mr. Hooper, you wouldn't know Mr. Edison's voice if you heard it, would you?" "N--no, can't say as how I would--but listen here. I do know a feller what works with him--they say he's close to the ol' man. Bill Medders. Knowed Bill when he was a little cack, knee-high to a grasshopper. They say he wrote a book about Eddy's son. I'd know Bill Medder's voice if I heard it in a b'iler factory." Bill Brown could hardly repress a smile. "I guess you must mean William H. Meadowcroft. His 'Boys' Life of Edison' sure is a dandy book. I liked it best of all. Sometimes no one can see Mr. Edison for weeks at a time, when he's buried in one of his 'world-beaters.' But I reckon we can let you hear Mr. Meadowcroft's voice. He wrote me a pippin of a letter once about the Chief." "All righty. I'll take Medders's. I know Bill, an' you can't fool me on that voice." "Mr. Hooper, I'll tell you what," said the all-practical Bill eagerly. "This demonstration will be almost as interesting to you as it is to us, and you can help us out. We can get what little power we need from any power plant. But we want a shop most of all--a loft or attic with room enough to work in. We're going to get all the tools we need--" "No. I'll get 'em fer you an' you kin have all that there room over the garage." (The old gentleman pronounced this word as though it rhymed with carriage.) "An' anything else you're a mind to have you kin have. Some old junk up there, I reckon," he went on. "You kin throw it out, er make use of it. An' now, let's see what you kin do!" The boys were eager to acknowledge this liberal offer, and they expressed themselves in no measured terms. They would do better than make one receiver; they would make two and one would be installed in Mr. Hooper's library,--but of this they said nothing at first. Get busy they did, with a zeal and energy that overmatched even that given the power plant. That afternoon they moved into the new shop and were delighted with its wide space and abundant light. The next day they went to the city for tools and materials. Two days later a lathe, a grinder and a boring machine, driven by a small electric motor wired from the Hooper generator were fully installed, together with a workbench, vises, a complete tool box and a drawing board, with its instruments. No young laborers in the vineyard of electrical fruitage could ask for more. "Isn't it dandy, Gus?" Bill exclaimed, surveying the place and the result of their labors in preparation. "If we can't do things here, it's only our fault. Now, then--" "It is fine," said Gus, "and we're in luck, but somehow, I think we must be on our guard. I can't get my mind off ghosts and the damage over yonder. I'm going to take a sneak around there to-night again, along around midnight and a little after. I did last night; didn't tell you, for you had your mind all on this. George was on duty, challenged me, but I've got a hunch that he knows something he doesn't want to worry us about and thinks he can cope with." CHAPTER XVIII A BIT TRAGIC "Hold up your hands, nigger!" The voice was low and sepulchral, but either the ghostly apparition that uttered the command had slipped up on its vernacular, or it was the spirit of a bandit. Some demand of the kind was, however, urgently necessary, for George did not, as formerly, show a desire to flee; his belligerent attitude suggested fight and he was a husky specimen with a handy club. Even though he might have suffered a qualm at again beholding the white apparition in the moonlight, his determination to dare the spectre was bolstered by the voice and the manner of the command. "Ah knows who yo' is an' Ah's gwine hol' yo' up! Yo' ain't no ghos'. Dis club'll knock de sure 'nough breff out'n yo'; then we'll see." To Gus, on the hillside above the power plant, it looked very much as though this threat were going to be carried out. He had been quietly observing, under the light of a half moon, the ghostly visitation and even the advent of this individual before the white raiment had been donned some distance behind the tool house and unknown to the watchful George. All this had not surprised Gus, but he had been puzzled by the appearance on the hillside of another figure that kept behind the scant bushes much as Gus was doing, except that it was screened against being seen from below and evidently did not know of Gus's presence. Now, however, all attention was given to the altercation before the tool house, around which the ghost had come, evidently to be disappointed at not seeing George take to his heels. Suddenly there was a shot. The reverberation among the hills seemed ominous, but not more so than the staggering back and sinking down of poor George. Gus saw the white figure stand for a moment, as though peering down at the victim of this murderous act; then it turned and fled straight up the hill and directly toward the one up there crouching and--waiting? Were they in collusion? Gus had but a moment to guess. Still crouching, unseen, though brave,--for Gus was courageous even sometimes to the point of being foolhardy in the rougher sports, or where danger threatened others,--he avoided now the almost certain fate of George, for the villain was still armed and desperate, no doubt. And Gus hoped that the arrest of the scamp would surely follow his meeting with the other observer. But this safe and sane attitude of the watching Gus suffered a sudden change when, as the ascending ruffian fairly stumbled upon the other figure crouching on the hillside, a scream, unmistakably that of a female in dire distress, came to the ears of the witness. He could dimly see the two struggling together, the dark figure with the white. The next instant, forgetting all danger to himself, Gus lessened the distance by leaps and scrambles along the declivity and flung himself upon the assailant. There was a short, sharp tussle; a second shot, but this time the weapon discharged its leaden pellet harmlessly. Then the ghost, taking advantage of the hillside, flung Gus aside and before the boy had time to leap upon his foeman again, the white figure, his habiliments torn off, had backed away and threatened Gus with the pistol. There was no mistaking the voice that uttered the threat: "Keep off, or you'll get punctured! You needn't think anybody's going to get me. I'm going to vanish. If you try to follow me now, I'll kill you!" This sounded desperate enough and Gus had reason to believe the fellow meant it. But in spite of that and driven by righteous anger, he would again have tackled the enemy had not the voice of Grace Hooper checked him: "Oh, let him go; let him go!" she begged. "He'll shoot, and you--you must not be killed! No; you shall not!" And then, as the rascal turned and fled over the brow of the hill, Gus turned to the girl, sitting on the ground. "How did you come here--what--?" "I knew something was going to happen, and I thought I might prevent it some way. Then he fired, and I saw how desperate he was,--and he shot--" "Yes--we must do all we can for poor George, if anything can be done. But are you hurt?" "Not very much; he meant to hurt me. I dodged when he struck and only my shoulder may be--bruised." "Then you should bathe it in hot water. Can I help you up? No, you must not go home alone--but I must see about poor George. I heard him groan." "I'd better go down with you." "It might be--too horrible--for a girl, you see. Better stay here." Gus had extended his hand to give her a lift; she took it and came slowly to her feet; then suddenly crumpled up and lay unconscious before him, her face white against the dark sod, her arms outflung. Gus stared at her a few long seconds, as foolishly helpless as any boy could be. He told Bill afterward that he never felt so flabbergasted in his life. What to do he knew not, but he must try something, and do it quickly. Perhaps Grace had only fainted; should he go to George first? He might be dying--or dead! Then the thought came to him: "Women and children first." Gus dashed down the hill, dipped his cap, cup fashion, into the water of the dam and fled up with it again, brimming full and spilling over. He was able to dash a considerable quantity of reviving water into the girl's face. With a gasp and a struggle she turned over, opened her eyes, sat up,--her physical powers returning in advance of her mental grasp. "Oh, am I,--no, not dead? Please help me--up and home." "Yes, I'll take you home in just a jiffy. Do you feel a little better? Can you sit still here, please, till I see about George? Just a moment?" Again the boy went down the hill, now toward the tool house; he was brave enough, but a sort of horror gripped him as he rounded the corner of the little shack. What, then, was his relief when he found the watchman on his feet, a bit uncertain about his balance and leaning against the door frame. It was evident from the way he held his club that he meant not to desert his post and that he believed his late assailant was returning. At sight of Gus, the colored man's relief showed in his drawn face. "Mist' Gus! It's you, honey! My Lawd! Ah done been shot! By the ghos', Mist' Gus, whut ain't nothin' no mo'n dat low-down, no 'count nephew o' ol' Mist' Hooper's. Ah reckon Ah's gwine die, but Ah ain't yit--not ef he's comin' back!" "Good boy, George! You're the stuff! But you're not going to die and he's not coming back. He lit out like a rabbit. Come now; we'll go to a doctor and then--" "Reckon Ah can't do it. Got hit in de hip some'ers; makes mah leg total wuthless. You-all go on an' Ah'll git me some res' yere till mawnin'." "And maybe bleed nearly to death! No, I'll be back for you in no time,--as soon as I get Miss Grace home. She's on the hill there. She came out to watch that cousin of hers. You hang on till I get back." Grace tried to show her usual energy, but seemed nearly overcome by fatigue. She made no complaint, but presently Gus saw that she was crying, and that scared him. In his inexperience he could not know that it was only overwrought nerves. He felt he must make speed in carrying out his intentions to get help to George and put the authorities on the track of Thad. Gus could see but one thing to do properly and his natural diffidence was cast aside by his generous and kindly nature. "Let me give you a lift, as I do Bill, sometimes," he said, and drew the girl's arm over his shoulder, supporting her with his other arm. In a second or two they were going on at a rather lively pace. In a few minutes they had reached the house. Grace entered and called loudly. Her father and mother appeared instantly in the hallway above. The girl, half way up the stairway, told of the incidents at the power plant and added: "Thad boasted to me that he was going to give the boys a lot more trouble, and I watched and saw him leave the house. So I followed, hoping to stop him, and after he shot George he ran into me and was so angry that he struck me. I wish _I_ had had a pistol! I would have--" "Gracie, dear little girl! You mustn't wish to kill or wound anyone! Oh, are you _hurt_? Come, dear--" "I'll be with you right off, me boy!" said Mr. Hooper to Gus, and presently they were in the library alone. "Listen to me, lad. This nevvy o' mine is me dead sister's child, an' I swore t' her I'd do all I could fer him. His brother Bob, he's in the Navy, a decent lad; won't have nothin' to do with Thad. An' you can't blame him, fer Thad's a rapscallion. Smart, too, an' friendly enough to his old uncle. But now, though, I'm done with him. I'm fer lettin' him slide, not wantin' to put the law on him. I'll take care o' George. He shall have the best doctor in the country, an' I'll keep him an' his wife in comfort, but I don't want Thaddeus to be arrested. Now I reckon he's gone an' so let luck take him--good, bad, er indifferent. Won't you let him hit his own trail, foot-loose?" "I'd like to see him arrested and jailed," said Gus, "but for you and because of what you'll do for George and your being so good to Bill and me, I'll keep mum on it." "Good, me lad. An' now you git back to George an' tell him to keep Thad's name out of it. I'll 'phone fer 'Doc' Little and 'Doc' Yardley, an' have an ambulance sent fer the poor feller. Then you can tell his wife. It means very little sleep fer you this night, but you can lay abed late." Gus went away upon these duties, but with a heavy heart; he felt that Mr. Hooper, because of the very gentleness of the man was defeating justice, and though he had been nearly forced to give his promise, he felt that he must keep it. CHAPTER XIX CONSTRUCTION AND DESTRUCTION Bill and Gus worked long hours and diligently. All that the power plant construction had earned for Bill, the boy had turned in to help his mother. But Mr. Grier, busy at house building and doing better than at most other times, was able to add something to _his_ boy's earnings, so that Gus could capitalize the undertaking, which he was eager to do. The layout of the radio receiver outfits to be built alike were put at first on paper, full size; plan, side and end elevations and tracings were made of the same transferred to heavy manila paper. These were to be placed on the varnished panels, so that holes could be bored through paper and panel, thus insuring perfect spacing and arrangement. Sketches, also, were made of all details. The audion tubes, storage batteries and telephone receivers had been purchased in the city. Almost all the other parts were made by the boys out of carefully selected materials. The amplifiers consisted of iron core transformers comprising several stages of radio frequency. The variometers were wound of 22-gauge wire. Loose couplers were used instead of the ordinary tuning coil. The switch arms, pivoting shafts and attachments for same, the contact points and binding posts were home-made. A potentiometer puzzled them most, both the making and the application, but they mastered this rather intricate mechanism, as they did the other parts. In this labor, with everything at hand and a definite object in view, no boys ever were happier, nor more profitably employed, considering the influence upon their characters and future accomplishments. How true it is that they who possess worthy hobbies, especially those governed by the desire for construction and the inventive tendency, are getting altogether the most out of life and are giving the best of themselves! The work progressed steadily--not too hastily, but most satisfactorily. Leaving at supper time, Bill's eyes would sparkle as he talked over their efforts for that day, and quiet Gus would listen with nods and make remarks of appreciation now and then. "The way we've made that panel, Gus, with those end cleats doweled on and the shellacking of both sides--it'll never warp. I'm proud of that and it was mostly your idea." "No, yours. I would have grooved the wood and used a tongue, but the dowels are firmer." "A tongue would have been all right." "But, dear boy, the dowels were easier to put in." "Oh, well, it's done now. To-morrow we'll begin the mounting and wiring. Then for the aërial!" But that very to-morrow brought with it the hardest blow the boys had yet had to face. Full of high spirits, they walked the half mile out to the Hooper place and found the garage a mass of blackened ruins. It had caught fire, quite mysteriously, toward morning, and the gardener and chauffeur, roused by the crackling flames, had worked like beavers but with only time to push out the two automobiles; they could save nothing else. The Hoopers had just risen from breakfast when the boys arrived; at once Grace came out, and her expressions of regret were such as to imply that the family had lost nothing, the boys being the only sufferers. And it _was_ a bit staggering--all their work and machinery and tools and plans utterly ruined--the lathe and drill a heap of twisted iron. It was with a rueful face that Bill surveyed the catastrophe. "Never mind, Billy," said Grace, detecting evidence of moisture in his eyes; but she went over to smiling Gus and gazed at him in wonder. "Don't you care?" she asked. "You bet I care; mostly on Bill's account, though. He had set his heart mighty strong on this. I'm sorry about your loss, too." "Oh, never mind that! Dad is 'phoning now for carpenters and his builder. He'll be out in a minute." Out he did come, with a shout of greeting; he, too, had sensed that the real regrets would be with them. "It'll be all right, me lads!" he shouted. "Herring'll be here on the next train, with a bunch o' men, an' I'll git your dad, Gus, too. Must have this building up just like it was in ten days. An' now count up just what you lads have lost; the hull sum total, b'jinks! I'm goin' to be the insurance comp'ny in this deal." "The insurance company!" Bill exclaimed and Gus stared. "Sure. Goin' to make up your loss an' then some. I'm a heap int'rested in this Eddy's son business, ain't I? Think I ain't wantin' to see that there contraption that hears a hunderd miles off? Get busy an' give me the expense. We've got to git a-goin'." "But, Mr. Hooper, our loss isn't yours and you have got enough to--" "Don't talk; figger! I'm runnin' this loss business. Don't want to make me mad; eh? Git at it an' hurry up!" He turned and walked away. Grace followed in a moment, but over her shoulder remarked to the wondering boys: "Do as Dad says if you want to keep our friendship. Dad isn't any sort of a piker,--you know that." The insistency was too direct; "the queen's wish was a command." The boys would have to comply and they could get square with their good friends in the end. So at it they went, Bill with pad and pencil, Gus calling out the items as his eye or his memory gleaned them from the hard-looking objects in the burned mass as he raked it over. Presently Grace came out again. "Dad wants the list and the amount," she said. "He's got to go to the city with Mr. Herring." Bill handed over his pad and she was gone, to return as quickly in a few minutes. "Here is an order on the bank; you can draw the cash as you need it. You can start working in the stable loft; then bring your stuff over. There will be a watchman on the grounds from to-night, so don't worry about any more fires. I must go help get Dad off." Once more she retreated; again she stopped to say something, as an afterthought, over her shoulder: "And, boys, won't you let Skeets and me help you some? Skeets will be here again next week and I love to tinker and contrive and make all sorts of things; it'll be fun to see the radio receiver grow." "Sure, you can," said Gus; and Bill nodded, adding: "We have only a limited time now, and any help will count a lot." Going down to the bank, Bill again outlined the work in detail, suggesting the purchases of even better machinery and tools, of only the best grades of materials. There must be another trip to the city, the most strenuous part of the work. "We'll get it through on time, I guess," said Bill. "I'm not thinking so much of that as about how that fire started," said Gus. "It couldn't have been any of our chemicals, could it?" "Chem--? My eye! Don't you know, old chap? I'll bet Mr. Hooper and Grace have the correct suspicion." "More crooked business? You don't mean--" "Sure, I do! Thad, of course. And, Bill, we're going to get him, sooner or later. Mr. Hooper won't want to stand this sort of thing forever. I've got a hunch that we're not through with that game yet." CHAPTER XX "TO LABOR AND TO WAIT" It was truly astonishing what well organized labor could do under intelligent direction; the boys had a fine example of this before them and a fine lesson in the accomplishment. The new garage grew into a new and somewhat larger building, on the site of the old, almost over night. There were three eight-hour shifts of men and two foremen, with the supervising architect and Mr. Grier apparently always on the job. As soon as the second floor was laid, the roof on and the sheathing in place, Bill and Gus moved in. The men gave them every aid and Mr. Grier gave special attention to building their benches, trusses, a drawing-board stand, shelving and tool chests. Then, how those new radio receivers did come on! Grace and Skeets were given little odd jobs during the very few hours of their insistent helping. They varnished, polished, oiled, cleaned copper wire, unpacked material, even swept up the _débris_ left by the carpenters; at least, they did until Skeets managed to fall headlong down about one-half of the unfinished stairway and to sprain her ankle. Then Grace's loyalty compelled her attention to her friend. Mr. Hooper breezed in from time to time, but never to take a hand; to do so would have seemed quite out of place, though the old gentleman laughingly made an excuse for this: "Lads, I ain't no tinker man; never was. Drivin' a pesky nail's a huckleberry above my persimmon. Cattle is all I know, an' I kin still learn about them, I reckon. But I know what I kin see an' hear an', b'jinks, I'm still doubtin' I'm ever goin' to hear that there Eddy's son do this talkin'. But get busy, lads; get busy!" "Oh, fudge, Dad! Can't you see they're dreadfully busy? You can't hurry them one bit faster." Grace was ever just. "No," said Skeets, who had borrowed Bill's crutch to get into the shop for a little while. "No, Mr. Hooper; if they were to stay up all night, go without eats and work twenty-five hours a day they couldn't do any--" And just then the end of the too-much inclined crutch skated outward and the habitually unfortunate girl dropped kerplunk on the floor. Gus and Grace picked her up. She was not hurt by her fall. Her very plumpness had saved her. "For goodness' sake, Skeets, are you ever going to get the habit of keeping yourself upright?" asked Grace, who laughed harder than the others, except Skeets herself; the stout girl generally got the utmost enjoyment out of her own troubles. Quiet restored, Mr. Hooper returned to his subject. "I reckon you lads, when you git this thing made that's goin' to hoodoo the air, will be startin' in an' tryin' somethin' else; eh?" he ventured, grinning. "Later, perhaps, but not just yet," Bill replied. "Not until we can manage to learn a lot more, Gus and I. Mr. Grier says that the competition of brains nowadays is a lot sharper than it was in Edison's young days, and even he had to study and work a lot before he really did any big inventing. Professor Gray says that a technical education is best for anyone who is going to do things, though it is a long way from making a fellow perfect and must be followed up by hard practice." "And we can wait, I guess," put in Gus. "Until we can manage in some way to scrape together enough cash to buy books and get apparatus for experiments and go on with our schooling." "We want more physics and especially electricity," said Gus. "And other knowledge as well, along with that," Bill amended. "I reckon you fellers is right," said Mr. Hooper, "but I don't know anything about it. I quit school when I was eleven, but that ain't sayin' I don't miss it. If I had an eddication now, like you lads is goin' to git, er like the Perfesser has, I'd give more'n half what I own. Boys that think they're smart to quit school an' go to work is natchal fools. A feller may git along an' make money, but he'd make a heap more an' be a heap happier, 'long of everything else, if he'd got a schoolin'. An' any boy that's got real sand in his gizzard can buckle down to books an' get a schoolin', even if he don't like it. What I'm a learnin' nowadays makes me know that a feller can make any old study int'restin' if he jes' sets down an' looks at it the right way." "That's what Gus and I think. There are studies we don't like very much, but we can make ourselves like them for we've got to know a lot about them." "Grammar, for instance," said Gus. "Sure. It is tiresome stuff, learning a lot of rules that work only half. But if a fellow is going to be anybody and wants to stand in with people, he's got to know how to talk correctly and write, too." Bill's logic was sound. "Daddy should have had a drilling in grammar," commented Grace, laughing. "Oh, you!" blurted Skeets. "Mr. Hooper can talk so that people understand him--and when you _do_ talk," she turned to the old gentleman, "I notice folks are glad to listen, and so is Grace." "But, my dear," protested the subject of criticism, "they'd listen better an' grin less if I didn't sling words about like one o' these here Eye-talians shovelin' dirt." "You just keep a-shovelin', Mr. Hooper, your own way," said Bill, "and if we catch anybody even daring to grin at you, why, I'll have Gus land on them with his famous grapple!" Mr. Hooper threw back his coat, thrust his thumbs into the armholes of his big, white vest and swelled out his chest. "Now, listen to that! An' this from a lad who ain't got a thing to expect from me an' ain't had as much as he's a-givin' me, either--an' knows it. But that's nothin' else but Simon pure frien'ship, I take it. An' Gus, here, him an' Bill, they think about alike; eh, Gus?" Gus nodded and the old gentleman continued, addressing his remarks to his daughter and Skeets: "Now, if I know anything at all about anything at all I know what I'm goin' to do. I ain't got no eddication, but that ain't goin' to keep me from seein' some others git it. You Gracie, fer one, an' you, too, Skeeter, if your old daddy'll let you come an' go to school with Gracie. But that ain't all; if you lads kin git ol' Eddy's son out o' the air on this contraption you're makin' an' hear him talk fer sure, I'm goin' to see to it that you kin git all the tec--tec--what you call it?--eddication there is goin' an' I'm goin' to put Perfesser Gray wise on that, too, soon's he comes back. No--don't you say a word now. I know what I'm a-doin'." With that the old gentleman turned and marched out of the shop. But at the bottom of the garage steps he called back: "Say, boys, I gotta go away fer a couple o' weeks, or mebbe three. Push it right along an' mebbe you'll be hearin' from old man Eddy's son when I git back!" CHAPTER XXI EARLY STRUGGLES The receiving outfits were completed; the aërials had been put up, one installed at the garage, the other at the mansion. Grace naturally had all, the say about placing the one in her home. The aërial, of four wires, each thirty feet long and parallel, were attached equi-distant, and at each end to springy pieces of ash ten feet long, these being insulators in part and sustained by spiral spring cables, each divided by a glass insulator block, the extended cables being fastened to a maple tree and the house chimney. The ground wire went down the side of the house beside a drain pipe. The house receiver, in a cabinet that had cost the boys much painstaking labor, was set by a window and, after Grace and Skeets had been instructed how to tune the instrument to varying wave lengths, they and good Mrs. Hooper enjoyed many delightful periods of listening in, all zealously consulting the published programs from the great broadcasting stations. The other outfit made by the boys, which, except the elaborate box and stand, was an exact duplicate of the Hooper receiver, was taken to the Brown cottage. Gus insisted that Bill had the best right to it, and as the Griers and Mrs. Brown had long been the best of friends and lived almost next door to each other, all the members of the carpenter's family would be welcome to listen in whenever they wanted to. The little evening gatherings at certain times for this purpose were both mirthful and delightful. The boys' aërial was a three-wire affair, stretching forty feet, and erected in much the same way as that at the Hooper house, except that one mast had to be put up as high as the gable end of the cottage, which was the other support, thirty-five feet high. Then, when the announcement was made that the talks on Edison were to be repeated, Bill and Gus told the class and others of their friends, so the Hoopers came also, the merry crowd filling the Brown living-room. Mr. Hooper's absence was noted and regretted from the first, as his eagerness "to be shown" was well known to them all. The first lectures concerning Edison's boyhood were repeated. The second and third talks were each better attended than the preceding ones. Cora, Dot, Skeets and two other girls occupied the front row; Ted Bissell and Terry Watkins were present. Bill presided with much dignity, most carefully tuning in, making the announcements, then becoming the most interested listener, the theme being ever dear to him. On the occasion of the third lecture, Bill said: "Now, then, classmates and other folks, this is a new one to all of us. The last was where we left off in June on the Professor's receiver. You can just bet this is going to be a pippin. First off, though, is a violin solo by--by--oh, I forget his name,--and may it be short and sweet!" After the music, the now well-known voice came from the horn: "This is the third talk on the career and accomplishments of Thomas Alva Edison: "In a little while young Edison began to get tired of the humdrum life of a telegraph operator in Boston. As I have told you, after the vote-recorder, he had invented a stock ticker and started a quotation service in Boston. He opened operations from a room over the Gold Exchange with thirty to forty subscribers. "He also engaged in putting up private lines, upon which he used an alphabetical dial instrument for telegraphing between business establishments, a forerunner of modern telephony. This instrument was very simple and practical, and any one could work it after a few minutes' explanation. "The inventor has described an accident he suffered and its effect on him: "'In the laboratory,' he says, 'I had a large induction coil. One day I got hold of both electrodes of this coil, and it clinched my hands on them so that I could not let go! "'The battery was on a shelf. The only way I could get free was to back off and pull the coil, so that the battery wires would pull the cells off the shelf and thus break the circuit. I shut my eyes and pulled, but the nitric acid splashed all over my face and ran down my back. "'I rushed to a sink, which was only half big enough, and got in as well as I could, and wiggled around for several minutes to let the water dilute the acid and stop the pain. My face and back were streaked with yellow; the skin was thoroughly oxidized. "'I did not go on the street by daylight for two weeks, as the appearance of my face was dreadful. The skin, however, peeled off, and new skin replaced it without any damage.' "The young inventor went to New York City to seek better fortunes. First he tried to sell his stock printer and failed in the effort. Then he returned to Boston and got up a duplex telegraph--for sending two messages at once over one wire. He tried to demonstrate it between Rochester and New York City. After a week's trial, his test did not work, partly because of the inefficiency of his assistant. "He had run in debt eight hundred dollars to build this duplex apparatus. His other inventions had cost considerable money to make, and he had failed to sell them. So his books, apparatus and other belongings were left in Boston, and when he returned to New York he arrived there with but a few cents in his pocket. He was very hungry. He walked the streets in the early morning looking for breakfast but with so little money left that he did not wish to spend it. "Passing a wholesale tea house, he saw a man testing tea by tasting it. The young inventor asked the 'taster' for some of the tea. The man smiled and held out a cup of the fragrant drink. That tea was Thomas A. Edison's first breakfast in New York City. "He walked back and forth hunting for a telegraph operator he had known, but that young man was also out of work. When Edison finally found him, all his friend could do was to lend him a dollar! "By this time Edison was nearly starved. With such limited resources he gave solemn thought to what he should select that would be most satisfying. He decided to buy apple dumplings and coffee, and in telling afterward of his first real 'eats' in New York, Mr. Edison said he never had anything that tasted so good. "Just as young Ben Franklin, on arriving in New York City from Boston, looked for a job in a printing office, the youthful modern inventor applied for work in a telegraph office there. As there was no vacancy and he needed the rest of his borrowed dollar for meals, Edison found lodging in the battery room of the Gold Indicator Company. "It was four years after the Civil War and, besides there being much unemployment, the fluctuations in the value of gold, as compared with the paper currency of that day, made it necessary to have gold 'indicators' something like the tickers from the Stock Exchange to-day. Dr. Laws, presiding officer of the Gold Exchange, had recently invented a system of gold indicators, which were placed in brokers' offices and operated from the Gold Exchange. "When Edison got permission to spend the night in the battery room of this company, there were about three hundred of these instruments operating in offices in all directions in lower New York City. "On the third day after his arrival, while sitting in this office, the complicated instrument sending quotations out on all the lines made a very loud noise, and came to a sudden stop with a crash. Within two minutes over three hundred boys---one from every broker's office in the street--rushed upstairs and crowded the long aisle and office where there was hardly room for one-third that number, each yelling that a certain broker's wire was out of order, and that it must be fixed at once. "It was pandemonium, and the manager got so wild that he lost all control of himself. Edison went to the indicator, and as he had already studied it thoroughly, he knew right where the trouble was. He went right out to see the man in charge, and found Dr. Laws there also--the most excited man of all! "The Doctor demanded to know what caused all the trouble, but his man stood there, staring and dumb. As soon as Edison could get Laws' attention he told him he knew what the matter was. "'Fix it! Fix it! and be quick about it!' Dr. Laws shouted. "Edison went right to work and in two hours had everything in running order. Dr. Laws came in to ask the inventor's name and what he was doing. When told, he asked the young man to call on him in his office the next day. Edison did so and Laws said he had decided to place Edison in charge of the entire plant at a salary of three hundred dollars a month! "This was such a big jump from any wages he had ever received that it quite paralyzed the youthful inventor. He felt that it was too much to last long, but he made up his mind he would do his best to earn that salary if he had to work twenty hours a day. He kept that job, making improvements and devising other stock tickers, until the Gold and Stock Telegraph Company consolidated with the Gold Indicator Company." CHAPTER XXII FAME AND FORTUNE "At twenty-two," the lecturer continued, "while Edison was with the Gold and Stock Telegraph Company, he often heard Jay Gould and 'Jim' Fisk, the great Wall Street operators of that day, talk over the money market. At night he ate his lunches in the coffee-house in Printing House Square, where he used to meet Henry J. Raymond, founder of _The New York Times_, Horace Greeley of the _Tribune_ and James Gordon Bennett of the _Herald_, the greatest trio of journalists in the world. One of the most memorable remarks made by a frequenter of this night lunch, as recorded by Mr. Edison was: "'This is a great place; a plate of cakes, a cup of coffee, and a Russian bath, all for ten cents!' "The so-called bath was on account of the heat of the crowded room. "Mr. Edison tells this story of the terrible panic in Wall Street, in September, 1869, brought on chiefly by the attempt of Jay Gould and his associates to corner the gold market: "'On Black Friday we had a rather exciting time with our indicators. The Gould and Fisk crowd had cornered the gold and had run up the quotations faster than the indicator could record them. In the morning it was quoting 150 premium while Gould's agents were bidding 165 for five millions or less. "'There was intense excitement. Broad and other streets in the Wall Street district were crammed with crazy crowds. In the midst of the excitement, Speyer, another large operator, became so insane that it took five men to hold him. I sat on the roof of a Western Union booth and watched the surging multitudes. "'A Western Union man I knew came up and said to me: "Shake hands, Edison. We're all right. We haven't got a cent to lose."' "After the company with which our young inventor was connected had sold out its inventions and improvements to the Gold and Stock Telegraph Company, Mr. Edison produced a machine to print gold quotations instead of merely indicating them. The attention of the president of the Gold and Stock Company was attracted to the success of the wonderful young inventor. "Edison had produced quite a number of inventions. One of these was the special ticker which was used many years in other large cities, because it was so simple that it could be operated by men less expert than the operators in New York. It was used also on the London Stock Exchange. "After he had gotten up a good many inventions and taken out patents for them, the president of the big company came to see him and was shown a simple device to regulate tickers that had been printing figures wrong. This thing saved a good deal of labor to a large number of men, and prevented trouble for the broker himself. It impressed the president so much that he invited Edison into his private office and said, in a stage whisper: "'Young man, I would like to settle with you for your inventions here. How much do you want for them?" "Edison had thought it all over and had come to the conclusion that, on account of the hard night-and-day work he had been doing, he really ought to have five thousand dollars, but he would be glad to settle for three thousand, if they thought five thousand was too much. But when asked point-blank, he hadn't the courage to name either sum--thousands looked large to him then--so he hesitated a bit and said: "'Well, General, suppose _you_ make _me_ an offer.' "'All right,' said the president. 'How would forty thousand dollars strike you?' "Young Edison came as near fainting then as he ever did in his life. He was afraid the 'General' would hear his heart thump, but he said quietly that he thought that amount was just about right. A contract was drawn up which Edison signed without reading. "Forty thousand dollars was written in the first check Thomas A. Edison ever received. With throbbing heart and trembling fingers he took it to the bank and handed it in to the paying teller, who looked at it disapprovingly and passed it back, saying something the young inventor could not hear because of his deafness. Thinking he had been cheated, Edison went out of the bank, as he said, 'to let the cold sweat evaporate.' "Then he hurried back to the president and demanded to know what it all meant. The president and his secretary laughed at the green youth's needless fears and explained that the teller had probably told him to write his name on the back of the check. They not only showed him how to endorse it, but sent a clerk to the bank to identify him--because of the large amount of money to be paid over. "Just for a joke on the 'jay,' the teller gave him the whole forty thousand dollars in ten- and twenty-dollar bills. Edison gravely stowed away the money till he had filled all his pockets including those in his overcoat. He sat up all night in his room in Newark, in fear and trembling, lest he be robbed. The president laughed next day but said that joke had gone far enough; then he showed Thomas A. Edison how to open his first bank account." Again the lecturer's voice ceased to be heard; again another voice announced that the fourth talk would be given on a certain date a few days later. A negro song with banjo accompaniment followed and the radio entertainment was over. Everyone was talking, laughing and voicing pleasure in the increasingly wonderful demonstration of getting sounds out of the air, from hundreds of miles away. Only Gus and Bill remained and the two--as Billy always referred to their confabs--went into "executive session." This radio receiver was altogether absorbing, much too attractive to let alone easily. The boys were proud of their very successful construction and they could neither forget that fact, nor pass up the delight of listening in. This time Gus had the first inspiration. Billy often thought how, sometimes strangely or by chance or correct steering, his chum seemed to grasp the deeper matters of detection. Gus eagerly acknowledged Bill as possessing a genius for mechanical construction and invention, without which the comrades would get nowhere in such efforts, even admitting Gus's skill and cleverness with tools. But when it came to having hunches and good luck concerning matters of human mystery, Gus was the king pin. "I'm going to see what else we can get from near or far," Gus said, detaching the horn and using the head clamp with its two ear 'phones which had been added to the set. He sat down and began moving the switch arms, one from contact to contact, the other throughout the entire range of its contacts at each movement of the first, and proceeding thus slowly for some minutes. Bill had turned to the study of his Morse code, which the boys had taken up and pursued at every opportunity during the building of the radio sets. Gus, however, was less familiar with the dots and dashes. A whisper, as though Gus were afraid the sound of his voice would disturb the electric waves, suddenly switched Bill's attention. "Two dots, three dots, two dots, one dash, one dot and dash, one dot, one dash and two dots, same, dot, dash, dot, two dots, two dashes and dot, four dots, one dash, two dots, two dashes, two dots." A pause. Gus had whispered each signal to Bill; then he asked: "What do you make it?" "I make it: 'Is it all right, then?' They have been talking some time, I guess," said Bill; and added: "That's a good way to pick up and wrestle with the code; it's dandy practice and we want--" "Wait, pal, wait!" gasped Gus, bending forward again. Words came now, instead of the code. It was evident that the person giving them out had sought authority for so doing from headquarters. Gus heard: "This is to whom it may concern: Five hundred dollars' reward is to be paid for information leading to the arrest of a party who last night broke into the home of Nathan R. Hallowell. After deliberately and, without apparent cause, shooting and badly wounding Mrs. Hallowell and striking down an old servant woman, he stole several hundred dollars' worth of jewels and silverware. Both the servant, who kept her wits about her, and Mrs. Hallowell, who is now out of danger, have described the assailant. He is about eighteen, of medium height, slender, dark complexioned, one eye noticeably smaller than the other, nose long and pointed, has a nervous habit of twitching his shoulder. He wore a light brown suit and a gray cap. Send all information, or broadcast same to Police Headquarters, Willstown. Immediate detention of any reasonable suspect is recommended." Gus wheeled about. "Bill, it's Thad! Description hits him exactly and there's five hundred reward. He's done a house-breaking stunt and tried to kill two people and I don't believe they've got him yet. Mr. Hooper wouldn't want us to keep quiet on this; would he?" "It might be a good idea to talk to Mrs. Hooper and Grace about it before you inform on Thad," Bill said. "I'll do that," Gus agreed and was off. In half an hour he was back again. "I saw them, late as it was. Grace and Skeets were playing crokinole and Mrs. Hooper came down. And, what do you think? Mr. Hooper wrote that Thad had forged his name on a check for several hundred dollars and got away with it and, even if he did still want to shield Thad, the law wouldn't let him. Grace says Thad ought to be caught and punished and that her father will want it done." "But Gus, even if you got Willstown on the long distance 'phone, how would that help to----" "We'll get them later; after we have located Thad." "Oh, Gus, do you think Ben Shultz was dreaming?" "When he said he saw Thad out there in the barren ground woods by the old cabin? Not a bit of it! It's the last place they'd ever think of looking for him--right on his uncle's place. Thad is pretty keen in some ways. But I doubt if he'll stay there long. He'll be pulling out for the mountains. There's a late moon to-night, you see." "I wish I could go with you; this old leg--" "Never mind now; don't worry. I'll take Bennie Shultz and make him messenger. If Thad's there you can get down to the drug store and call Willstown. That'll make our case sure. By cracky, old scout, five hundred! We can--" "Chickens, old man; chickens. Hatch 'em first. But you will, I'll bet, and it will be yours; not--" "What are you talking about? Ours! It's as much your job as mine. Divy-divy, half'n'half, fifty-fifty. Well, I'm off." CHAPTER XXIII JUSTICE "Now then, Bennie," whispered Gus, "beat it on the q.t. Then streak it for Bill's house. He'll be watching for you. Tell him our man is here and probably getting ready to light out. You needn't come back; I'm only going to spot this bird and find out where he goes, if I can. You'll get well paid for this, kid." The two boys were lying on the sandy ground among young cedars, and watching the little cabin not fifty yards distant. Out of this crude shack had come the sole occupant, to stand and gaze about him for a minute, lifting his face to the moon. Gus could plainly distinguish the gray cap, the slender build of the youth; he recognized the walk, a certain manner of standing, and once he plainly caught that upward shift of the shoulder. Then Gus gave his orders to Bennie, knowing that they would be carried out with precision, for the little fellow, almost a waif and lacking proper influences, would have nearly laid down his life for Gus after the athlete had very deservedly whipped two town bullies that were making life miserable for him. Moreover, the youngster wanted to be like Gus and Bill, in the matter of mentality, and a promise of reward meant money with which he could buy books. Left alone, Gus crept nearer the cabin. He could be reasonably sure of himself, but not of Bennie, who might crack a stick or sneeze. Some low cedars grew on the slope above the cabin; Gus took advantage of these and got within about forty feet of the shack. Then he lay watching for fully an hour, there being no sign of the inmate. But after what had seemed to Gus almost half the night, out came the suspect, stood a moment as before and started off; it could be seen that he carried a small pack and a heavy stick in his hands. Then Gus was taken by surprise; even his ready intuition failed him. He had made up his mind that he was in for a long hike to the not too distant mountains and that over this ground the work of keeping the other fellow in sight and of keeping out of sight himself was going to mean constant vigilance and keen stalking. But the midnight prowler swung around the cabin and with long, certain strides headed straight for the Hooper mansion. This was easier going for Gus than the open road toward the mountains would have been; there was plenty of growth--long grass, trees and bushes--to keep between him and the other who never tried to seek shelter, nor hardly once looked behind him until the end of the broad driveway was reached. Gus knew the watchman must be about, though possibly half asleep. He also believed that the suspected youth, by the way he advanced, must know the ways of the watchman. Roger, the big Saint Bernard, let out a booming roar and came bounding down the driveway; the fellow spoke to him and that was all there was to that. Gus stayed well behind, fearing the friendly beast might come to him also and thus give his presence away, but Roger was evidently coaxed to remain with the first comer. The big house stood silent, bathed in the moonlight; there was no sign of anyone about, other than the miscreant who stood now in the shadow, surveying the place. Presently he put down his pack, went to a window and, quick and silent as an expert burglar, jimmied the sash. There was only one sudden, sharp snap of the breaking sash bolt and in a moment the fellow had vanished within the darkness and Gus distinguished only the occasional flash of a pocket torch inside. There was but one thing to do, and that as quickly as possible. The dog had gone around to lie again on the front veranda. Gus made a bolt for the rear of the grounds, reached the garage, found an open door, began softly to push it open and suddenly found himself staring into the muzzle of a revolver that protruded from the blackness beyond. "Don't shoot! I'm Gus Grier, Mr. Watchman." The boy was conscious of a certain unsteadiness in his own voice. "Oh! An' phwat air yes doin' here?" "Talk low," said Gus, "but listen first: There's a burglar in the house. I spotted him some time ago, followed him and saw him get through the dining-room window. Move fast and he's yours!" Pat moved fast. He recognized that he had not been up to his duty so far and he meant to make amends. With Gus following, the boy's nerves on edge with the possibility that the housebreaker would shoot, the Irishman, who was no coward, reached the house, entered the basement, flooded the house with light, alarmed the inmates and in a few minutes had every avenue of escape guarded, the chauffeur, butler and gardener coming on the scene, all half dressed and armed. What followed needs little telling. Hardly had the men decided to search the house before the sound of a rapidly approaching motor horn was heard and from the quickly checked car two men leaped out, the constable and a deputy from the town--and then Bill Brown! The illuminated house had stopped their course. The search revealed Thad cowering in a closet, all the fight gone out of him. Grace and Skeets were not even awakened; Mrs. Hooper did not leave her room. As the constable turned a light on the handcuffed prisoner he remarked: "That's the chap all right. Description fits. He'll bring that five hundred all right." "A reward; is it?" said the watchman. "An' don't ye fergit who gits it. Not me, ner you, Constable, but the bye here." He laid his hand on Gus's shoulder. The constable laughed: "Oh, you're slow, Pat. We all know that. The kid and his pal, that young edition of Edison by the name of Billy Brown, got the thing cinched over their radio. We didn't know that the description that Willstown sent out fitted Mr. Hooper's own nephew." And so with relief, mixed with regret for Mr. Hooper's sake, Gus and Bill saw a sulky and rebellious Thad vanish into the night and out of their immediate affairs. CHAPTER XXIV GENIUS IS OFTEN ERRATIC The fourth radio talk on the life, character and accomplishments of the world's foremost inventor proved to be the most interesting of the series. Fairview had heard of these entertainments and so many people had asked Bill and Gus if they might attend, the boys became aware that the modest little living-room of the Brown home would not hold half of them. They, therefore, decided to let the radio be heard in the town hall, if a few citizens would pay the rent for the evening. This was readily arranged, but when the suggestion was made that an admission be charged, the boys refused. This was their treat all round, even to transferring their aërial to the hall between its cupola and a mast at the other end of the roof, put up by the ever willing Mr. Grier who could not do too much to further the boys' interests. Early in the evening the hall was filled to overflowing, and ushers were appointed to seat the crowd. Naturally there was much chattering and scraping of feet until suddenly a strain of music, an orchestral selection, began to come out of the horn and there was instant quiet. After its conclusion came the voice: "This is our last lecture on Edison. Following this will be given a series on Marconi, the inventor of the wireless. "As I have told you, Mr. Thomas Alva Edison's leap to fortune was sudden and spectacular, as have been most of his accomplishments since. Those who do really great things along the lines of physical improvement, or concerning the inception of large enterprises are apt to startle the public and to surprise thoughtful people almost as though some impossible thing had been achieved. "From a mere salaried operator to forty thousand dollars in a lump sum for expert work was quite a jump. "The forty thousand dollars, however, did not turn Mr. Edison's head as has been the effect of sudden wealth on many a good-sized but smaller minded man. "He used it as a fund to start a plant and hire expert men to experiment and work out the inventions which came to him so fast in his ceaseless work and study. He could get along with as little sleep as Napoleon is said to have required when a mighty battle was on. Edison could lie down on a settee or table and sleep just as the Little Corporal did even while cannon were booming all around him. "There was something Napoleonic, also, about Edison's intensity of application and his masterfulness in his gigantic undertakings. If genius is the ability to take great pains, Thomas A. Edison is the greatest genius in the world to-day--if not in all history. "Sometimes, as Napoleon did with his chief generals before a decisive engagement, Edison would shut himself up with his confidential coworkers. Sometimes he and they would neither eat nor sleep till they had fought out a problem of greater importance to the world than even Napoleon's crossing the Alps or the decisive battle of Austerlitz. But, though he began to work on a large scale, young Edison's financial facilities were of the crudest and simplest. "Almost all of his men were on piece-work, and he allowed them to make good salaries. He never cut them down, although their pay was very high as they became more and more expert. "Instead of _books_ he kept _hooks_--two of them. All the bills he owed he jabbed on one hook, and stuck mems of what was due him on the other. If he had no tickers ready to deliver when an account came due, he gave his note for the amount required. "Then as one bill after another fell due, a bank messenger came with a notice of protest pinned to the note, demanding a dollar and a quarter extra for protest fees besides principal and interest. Whereupon he would go to New York and borrow more funds, or pay the note on the spot if he happened to have money enough on hand. He kept up this expensive way of doing business for two years, but his credit was perfectly good. Every dealer he patronized was glad to furnish him with what he wanted, and some expressed admiration for his new method of paying bills. "But, to save his own time, Edison had to hire a bookkeeper whose inefficiency made him regret for a while the change in his way of doing business. He tells of one of his experiences with this accountant: "'After the first three months I told him to go through his books and see how much we had made. "Three thousand dollars!" he told me after studying a while. So, to celebrate this, I gave a dinner to several of the staff. "'Two days after that he came to tell me he had made a big mistake, for we had _lost_ five hundred dollars. Several days later he came round again and tried to prove to me that we had made seven thousand dollars in the three months!' "This was so disconcerting that the inventor decided to change bookkeepers, but he never 'counted his chickens before they were hatched.' In other words, he did not believe that he had made anything till he had paid all his bills and had his money safe in the bank. "Mr. Edison once made the remark that when Jay Gould got possession of the Western Union Telegraph Company, no further progress in telegraphy was possible, because Gould took no pride in building up. All he cared for was money, only money. "The opposite was true of Edison. While he had decided to invent only that which was of commercial value, it was not on account of the money but because that which millions of people will buy is of the greatest value to the world. "After he stopped telegraphing, Edison turned his mind to many inventions. It is not generally known that the first successful, widely sold typewriter was perfected by him. "This typewriter proved a difficult thing to make commercial. The alignment of the letters was very bad. One letter would be one-sixteenth of an inch above the others, and all the letters wanted to wander out of line. He worked on it till the machine gave fair results. The typewriter he got into commercial shape is now known as the Remington. "It is not hard to understand that Mr. Edison invented the American District Messenger call-box system, which has been superseded by the telephone, but very few people know when they are eating caramels and other sticky confectionery that wax or paraffin paper was invented by Edison. Also the tasimeter, an instrument so delicate that it measures the heat of the most distant star, Arcturus. One of the few vacations Mr. Edison allowed himself was when he traveled to the Rocky Mountains to witness a total eclipse of the sun and experiment on certain stars with his tasimeter, and this very clearly shows that Mr. Edison is as much interested in the advancement of science as in matters purely commercial." CHAPTER XXV THE GENIUS OF THE AGE "I want to tell you something more about the personal side of this great man," continued the voice from the horn. "One of the striking things about Thomas Alva Edison is his gameness. In this respect he has been greater than Napoleon, who was not always a 'good loser,' for he had come to regard himself as bound to win, whether or no; so when everything went against him, he expressed himself by kicking against Fate. But when Edison saw the hard work of nine years which had cost him two million dollars vanish one night in a sudden storm, he only laughed and said, 'I never took much stock in spilt milk.' "When his laboratories were burned or he suffered great reverses, Edison considered them merely the fortunes of war. In this respect he was most like General Washington, who, though losing more battles than he gained, learned to 'snatch victory from the jaws of defeat,' and win immortal success. "Some of Edison's discoveries were dramatic and amusing. During his telephone experiments he learned the power of a diaphragm to take up sound vibrations, and he had made a little toy that, when you talked into the funnel, would start a paper man sawing wood. Then he came to the conclusion that if he could record the movements of the diaphragm well enough he could cause such records to reproduce the movements imparted to them by the human voice. "But in place of using a disk, he got up a small machine with a cylinder provided with grooves around the surface. Over this some tinfoil was to be placed and he gave it to an assistant to construct. Edison had but little faith that it would work, but he said he wanted to get up a machine that would 'talk back.' The assistant thought it was ridiculous to expect such a thing, but he went ahead and followed the directions given him. Edison has told of this: "'When it was finished and the foil was put on, I shouted a verse of "Mary had a little lamb" into the crude little machine. Then I adjusted the reproducer, which when he began to operate it, proceeded to grind out-- "'Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb was sure to go' "with the very quality and tones of my voice! We were never so taken back in our lives. All hands were called in to witness the phenomenon and, recovering from their astonishment, the boys joined hands and danced around me, singing and shouting in their excitement. Then each yelled something at the machine--bits of slang or slurs--and it made them roar to hear that funny little contraption 'sass back!' "Edison has always had a saving sense of humor. Though such a driver for work--sometimes twenty hours a day seemed too short and they often worked all of twenty-four,--there was not unfrequently a jolly, prank-playing relaxation among the employees in the laboratory. If some fellow fell asleep and began snoring the others would get a record of it and play it later for the culprit or they would fix up a 'squawkophone' to outdo his racket. Most amusing was Edison's means of taking a short nap by curling up in an ordinary roll-top desk, and then turning over without falling out. "Everybody knows Edison really invented the telephone--that is, he made it work perfectly and brought it to the greatest commercial value, so that a billion men, women and children are using it in nearly all the languages and dialects in the civilized world. But he was very careful to give Dr. Alexander Graham Bell credit for his original work on this great invention. "When a friend on the other side of the Atlantic wired that the English had offered 'thirty thousand' for the rights to one of Edison's improvements to the telephone for that country, it was promptly accepted. When the draft came the inventor found, much to his surprise, that it was for thirty thousand _pounds_--nearly one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. "The phonograph or talking machine has been considered one of Edison's greatest inventions, but it does not compare in importance and value with the electric incandescent burner light. This required many thousands of experiments and tests to get a filament that would burn long enough in a vacuum to make the light sufficiently cheap to compete with petroleum or gas. During all the years that he was experimenting on different metals and materials for the electric light which was yet to be, in a literal sense, the light of the world, he had men hunting in all countries for exactly the right material out of which the carbon filament now in use is made. Thousands of kinds of wood, bamboo and other vegetable substances were tried. The staff made over fifty thousand experiments in all for this one purpose. This illustrates the art and necessity of taking pains, one of Mr. Edison's greatest characteristics. The story of producing electric light would fill a big volume. "When the proper filament was discovered and applied there was great rejoicing in the laboratory and a regular orgy of playing pranks and fun. "The philosophers say we measure time by the succession of ideas. If this is true the time must have been longer and seemed shorter in Edison's laboratories than anywhere else. The great inventor seldom carried a watch and seemed not to like to have clocks about. "Soon after he was married, the story went the rounds of the press that within an hour or two after the ceremony, Edison became so engrossed with an invention that he forgot that it was his wedding day. Edison has declared this story to be untrue. "'That's just one of the kind of yarns,' said the inventor laughing, 'that the reporters have to make up when they run short of news. It was the invention of an imaginative chap who knows I'm a little absent-minded. I never forgot that I was married. "'But there was an incident that may have given a little color to such a story. On our wedding day a lot of stock tickers were returned to the factory and were said to need overhauling. "'About an hour after the ceremony I was reminded of those tickers and when we got to our new home, I told my wife about them, adding that I would like to walk down to the factory a little while and see if the boys had found out what was the matter. "'She consented and I went down and found an assistant working on the job. We both monkeyed with the machines an hour or two before we got them to rights. Then I went home. "'My wife and I laughed at the story at first, but when we came across it about every other week, it began to get rather stale. It was one of those canards that stick, and I shall be spoken of always as the man who forgot his wife within an hour after he was married.' "A similar yarn was told of Abraham Lincoln, which was equally false, but even more generally believed. "Out of a multitude of labor savers and world-beaters--and world savers, too!--to be credited to Mr. Edison, it is impossible to mention more than these: "The quadruplex telegraph system for sending four messages--two in each direction--at the same time; the telephone carbon transmitter; the phonograph; the incandescent electric light and complete system; magnetic separator; Edison Effect now used in Radio bulbs; giant rock crushers; alkaline storage battery; motion picture camera. These are but few of Edison's inventions, but they are giving employment to over a million people and making the highest use of billions of dollars. "With Mr. Edison's modesty it is difficult to get him to talk of the relative importance of his inventions, but he has expressed the opinion that the one of most far-reaching importance is the electric light system which includes the generation, regulation, distribution and measurement of electric current for light, heat and power. The invention he loves most is the phonograph as he is a lover of music. He has patented about twelve hundred inventions. "Recent developments are proving that the moving picture, because of its educational and emotional appeal is the greatest of them all. It is estimated that more than one hundred millions of people go to one of these shows once every seven days, which is equivalent to every man, woman and child in the United States of America going to a movie once a week. The motion picture reaches, teaches and preaches to more people in America than all the schools, churches, books, magazines and newspapers put together, and when it teaches, it does it in a vivid way that live people like. "Political campaigns are beginning to be carried on with the silver screen for a platform. Writers in great magazines are proving, on the authority of the Japanese themselves, that the American moving picture is re-making Japan. Another, who has studied the signs of the times, asserts that the only way to bring order out of chaos in Russia is by means of the motion picture. "Comparisons are of times odious, but not in this case, for there is no man living, nor has there ever lived a man, except the Great Teacher, who has more greatly and generally benefited humanity or cast a stronger light upon the processes of civilization than Thomas Alva Edison." At the close of another musical number there was a general expectation of dismissal, a shuffling of feet and a murmur of voices. This was checked suddenly by Bill. The boy had been near the receiver all the while, on the chance of being needed in case of mishap, or for a sharper "tuning in"; now he got what the others did not and rising he let out a yell: "Everybody quiet! Something else!" and in the instant hush was heard the completion of an announcement: "--Scouts of America, the Girl Scouts and other organizations of kindred nature, upon their urgent invitation. We are making this announcement now for the fourth and last time in the hope that it may be universally received. Mr. Edison will now probably be here within an hour from this minute. All the youth of the land who may avail themselves of radio service will please respond and listen in. In a warmly appreciative sense this must be a gala occasion." "That's all, folks; I'm certain." Bill shouted the school yell and the class year: "Umpah, umpah, ho, ho; it's up to you, Fairview, 1922!" Then: "Bring 'em all back here, Gus." But not one of them needed urging nor reminding. Separating themselves from the rapidly diminishing and retreating audience came Ted, Terry, Cora, Dot, Grace, with Skeets as a guest, Bert Haskell, Mary Dean, Lem Upsall, Walt Maynard, Lucy Shore and Sara Fortescue, the entire bunch eagerly attentive. They crowded around Bill and Gus and were well aware of the purpose. "Sure, we'll all be here, I'll bet a cow!" shouted Ted. "Dot and I could listen in on our own radio," said Cora. "We've got it finished and it works fine and dandy, Billy. We want you and Gus and everybody to come over and try it. But we'll join in with the class on this; eh, Dot?" "Sure will," agreed Dot. "Ours is only a crystal set, but it has some improvements you boys haven't seen. Wait till we get it all done, and we'll give you a spread and a surprise." "Say, Bill, this thing's great," Terry said. "Father is going to get me an outfit in the city and I'll pay you and Gus to set it up for--" "Set it up yourself, you lazy thing!" said Cora. "If you please, miss, I've got other matters--" "All right, Terry,--see you later about it. Now, listen, hopefuls. You'll all be here, but this occasion is going to be incomplete, unless we have a lot more on deck. We all want to get out, and scout round and fetch in every kid that wants to amount to anything at all and is big enough to understand and appreciate what's going on. And even then it won't be quite up to snuff unless--" "I know! You want Mr. Hooper here, too!" shouted Skeets. But in trying to rise to make herself heard, she upset her chair and then sat down on the floor, jarring the building. When the shout of mirth subsided, Bill said: "That's right. Mr. Hooper and Professor Gray. We'll have to tell them about it." "Father wrote that he's coming home to-night," announced Grace proudly. "Great shakes! Did he? Gus, get on the 'phone and find out!" Bill commanded. "Now, then, let's all get busy and----" "Righto, Billy, but what will our folks think has become of us when it's so late?" Dot questioned. "I move we go into executive session!" shouted Walt Maynard. "Sure, and the president of the class can call a meeting," said Terry Watkins. "It's up to you then, Billy," Cora agreed. "I call it. Come to order and dispense with the minutes, Miss Secretary," Billy grinned at Dot. "Motion in order to send a committee to inform all the girls' parents." "I make that motion," said Bert. "Second it. The boys' parents can get wise by radio," asserted Ted. "Bert and Ted appointed. Get out and get busy!" Bill was no joke as an executive. "Here's Gus. Did you get Mrs. Hooper?" "I sure did. Mr. Hooper got home an hour ago." "Glory!" Grace, you're driving your little runabout? I appoint Grace and Mary a committee to go and get Mr. and Mrs. Hooper here right off. No objections? Don't fail, Grace, or we'll send the entire bunch." "We'll fetch him," laughed Grace as she and Mary hurried out. "Now then, everybody else, including the chair, is appointed a committee to bring in every boy and girl in the town who will come. Work fast! I wonder if we could promise some eats." Bill glanced at Terry. "Yes; tell them there'll be refreshments!" shouted the rich boy. "It'll be my treat. Bill, make me a committee of one to hive the grub. Cakes, candy, bananas and ice cream; eh?" "Done!" declared Bill. "Go to it, with the class's blessing!" "Yes and Heaven's best on Terry Watkins," said Cora. In a moment the hall was empty. Twenty minutes later the Hooper party arrived and about three minutes thereafter who should appear but Professor Gray, hurried, eager, registering disappointment when he saw the empty room, then smiling as the Hoopers and Mary Dean came to greet him. "I had hoped to find my class here," he began and was interrupted by the thump of Bill's crutch on the steps without. Forgetting his support the boy leaped, rather than limped, forward, followed more sedately by several lads and lasses he had rounded up. "If this isn't the best thing that _ever happened_!" shouted Bill, grasping the hands of the two men held out to him. "Both of you! And you, too, Mrs. Hooper. Great! Just got back, Professor! And now we're going to get the very thing we talked about, Mr. Hooper: we're going to hear Mr. Edison's voice or that of his right-hand man, nearly three hundred miles away. The rest of the bunch will be here in a minute. I expect Gus and Ted and Cora to fetch in a few dozen besides. Hello, here's Terry with the eats." CHAPTER XXVI GOOD COUNSEL "This quite overcomes me," said Professor Gray to Mr. Hooper. "I hurried back to invite some of my pupils to hear a message from Mr. Edison's laboratory; but trust Bill to do the thing in a monumental fashion!" "That there lad's a reg'lar rip-snorter, Perfesser. You can't beat him. Well, now, let's set down here in the middle; eh, Mother? an' wait fer what's a-comin'. I want a chance to tell the Perfesser 'bout that there water-power plant an' what them boys done. Them's the lads, I'm a-sayin'." But conversation was out of the question, for in came another troop of youngsters, landed by Cora, Dot and Lucy, followed a moment later by more, invited by the boys, who had joined forces in the street. The hall was half filled by an expectant and noisy throng. Of course, half of them anticipated the refreshments more eagerly than anything else. These were already, under the ministration of a young woman from the confectionery hastily engaged by Terry, now becoming evident. Bill was beside the radio outfit, silently listening with the ear 'phones clamped to the side of his head. Suddenly he arose and shouted: "Quiet! Silence, everybody, and listen hard!" Out of the horn again came the well-known voice of the transmitting station official announcer: "It gives us great pleasure to be able to broadcast very worth while messages of helpfulness and cheer to the youth of America. This occasion and opportunity was largely inspired by the Boy Scouts and the Girl Scouts and it will interest you to know that the presidents, secretaries and many of the executive officers of these splendid organizations are now here with us in person to inspire the occasion. They have asked me to express to you the hope that every Girl and Boy Scout--and I add every other self-respecting girl and boy--has access to a radio receiver and is now listening in to catch these words. I will now reproduce for you a message from one of the world's foremost citizens and greatest men, one who has brought more joy and comfort to civilized millions than any other man of his time, and therefore the greatest inventor in history; Mr. Thomas Alva Edison will now speak to the boys and girls of America through his constant associate and devoted friend, Mr. William H. Meadowcroft." There was a slight pause. The silence in the hall was most impressive. Bill cast his eyes for a brief moment over the waiting throng. There was in the eager faces, some almost wofully serious, some half-smiling, all wide-eyed and with craning necks, a tremendous indication of an almost breathless interest. Then, from the horn came slow and measured accents in a loud voice, perhaps a trifle tremulous from a proper feeling of the gravity of the occasion, but it was perfectly distinct: "Young people, I--" "_That's_ Bill--hello, Bill Medders--when did _you_------?" And the startled company, staring about, saw Mr. Hooper stumbling forward in the aisle toward the trumpet. "You win, me lads, you--" Bill Brown could not help laughing at the impetuous honesty of his kind old friend. Pointing to the horn, and placing his hand like a shell behind his own ear, the amused boy signed to the excited old man to listen. "The old geezer looks like 'His Master's Voice,' don't he?" came like a sneer from the background. During the pandemonium, the voice in the trumpet was proceeding quite unperturbed. "Silence!" shouted Bill, looking severely in the direction of the "seat of the scornful." "All please listen in on this. Mr. Meadowcroft is speaking." The confusion subsided and they heard these words: "--sometimes impossible to get Mr. Edison's attention for weeks at a time. He has his meals brought in and sleeps in the laboratory--when he sleeps at all--and so intense is his interest in his work that it is useless to attempt to disturb him even for what seems to me to be business of the highest importance. "But he has permitted me to express his deep and sincere interest in all you young people, and I am adding, on my own responsibility, three expressions of his which now seem to have maximum force because he has used them: "'Never mind the milk that's spilt.' "Genius is one per cent. _in_spiration, and ninety-nine per cent. _per_spiration.' "'Don't watch--don't clock the watch--oh!--_don't_ watch the CLOCK!--' Why, Mr. Edison, I thought you--I have just been explaining why you couldn't come--and now (with a laugh) here you are! "There was a hearty chuckle and another voice said: "I know it's mean to make you a victim of misplaced confidence, but it came across me like a flash that I couldn't do a better thing for the Boy Scouts and Girls Scouts and all the 'good scouts,' old and young, than to broadcast a good word for my friend Marconi. So I have run up here to speak to the Radio Boys after all. I know it's a shame, but--" "Nothing of the sort, Mr. Edison,--not on your life!" (It is the more familiar voice of Mr. Meadowcroft now.) "Wait, let me introduce you: Boys and girls, you are now 'listening in' with Thomas Alva Edison, who said, like the young man in the parable, 'I go not,' then he changed his mind and went. He is here--not to give you any message for or about himself, but to express his regard for the man to whom all Radio Boys and Girls owe so much. Mr. Edison has come on purpose to say a word to you." When the room was in a silence so solemn that those present could hear their own hearts beat, the voice the company now recognized as Mr. Edison's came through with trumpet clearness: "I have great admiration and high regard for Marconi, the pioneer inventor of wireless communication. I wish you all the happiness that Comes through usefulness. Good night." "Mr. Edison--one moment! In the name of the millions who are not 'listening in' on this, won't you please write this sentiment so that it can be seen as well as heard?" "All right"--came through in Edison's voice. A brief pause ensued and--"Thank you, Mr. Edison," from Mr. Meadowcroft in a low tone, which he immediately raised: "Mr. Edison has just written the words you have heard him speak to be broadcast, as it were, to the young eyes of America."[A] Hearty cheers followed this closing announcement, but as the speakers they had heard were not aware of this, the demonstration soon ceased. Exuberant youth, however, must be heard, and so, led by the irrepressible Ted, they immediately sought fresh inspiration and began to cheer whomever and whatever came quickly into their minds; first Bill and Gus, with demands for a speech from Bill; then in answer to the school yell, they cheered the school and Professor Gray. Finally they began to cheer the refreshments as these suddenly developed a full-form materialization. But this was suddenly switched off into a sort of doubtful hurrah as Mr. Hooper, with his wife trying to dissuade him by his coat-tails, arose and cleared his throat. "Lads and lasses: I sez to this 'ere lad, Bill Brown, sez I, some time back; I sez: 'Bill, me lad, if you ever fix it so's I kin hear my old friend Bill Medders talkin' out loud more'n a hunderd mile off,' I sez, 'then,' I sez, 'I'll give you a thousand dollers.' Well, this Bill, he sez: 'No, sir, Mr. Hooper,' he sez: 'We won't accept of no sich,' he sez, an' what he sez he sticks to, this 'ere lad Bill does, an' so does his buddy, Gus, 'ere. So, young people, I'm goin' to tell you what I'm a-goin' to do. I'm goin' to spend that thousand some way to sort o' remember this occasion by, an' it'll be spent fer whatever your teacher here an' Bill an' Gus an' any more that want to git into it sez it shall be. An', b'jinks, if you spring anything extry fine an' highfalutin I'll double it--make it two thousand; anything to help 'em along, gettin' an eddication, which I ain't got, ner never kin git, but my gal shall an' all her young friends. So, go to it, folks, an' I'm thinkin' my friends, Bill an' Gus--" Roaring cheers interrupted the earnest speaker. He smiled broadly and sat down. Professor Gray got to his feet, but Bill, not seeing him, was first to be heard when the crowd silenced; the boy had got to the platform and then on a chair. Standing there balanced on his crutch, a hand where his shoulder usually rested, he was a sight to stir the pathos and inspire admiration in any crowd. "I say, people, give three royal yells for Mr. Hooper! He's one of the dearest old chaps that ever drew breath! Ready, now----" The roof didn't quite raise, but the nails may have been loosened some and the timbers strained. With the ceasing of the cheers, Bill shouted again: "And now don't forget Professor Gray! He's going to be in on this deal, big, as you know!" Again the walls trembled. Once more Bill was heard: "And I have this suggestion: We'll put up a radio broadcasting station at the school. Get a government license, find means to make our service worth while and talk to anyone we want to. How's that?" The building didn't crumble, but it surely shook. And then Professor Gray had the floor: "Girls and boys, we mustn't forget William Brown and Augustus Grier. You can hardly mention one without the other. I propose--" Gus shamelessly interrupted his respected teacher and friend: "Three yells for Bill Brown's radio! Let her go!" It went; as did also the refreshments a little later. How Bill's idea of building a radio broadcasting station was carried out will be told in "Bill Brown Listens In." THE END [Footnote A: This message will be found in _facsimile_ in the foreword of this book.] 
12878	----	RADIO BOYS IN THE THOUSAND ISLANDS or, The Yankee-Canadian Wireless Trail by J. W. DUFFIELD Author of RADIO BOYS IN THE SECRET SERVICE; or, Cast Away on an Iceberg. RADIO BOYS IN THE FLYING SERVICE; or, Held For Ransom by Mexican Bandits. RADIO BOYS IN THE ROCKIES; or, The Mystery of the Lost Valley. 1922 CONTENTS Chapter I Vacation Plans II Tragedy or Joke III Talking it over IV The Catwhisker V A Baffling Situation VI A Mystery and Cub's "Goat" VII Returning Cub's "Goat" VIII Mathematics or Geography? IX The Radio Diagram X The Island-Surrounded Island XI The Deserted Camp XII Hal's Discovery XIII "Robinson Crusoe's" Diary XIV More Light and More Mystery XV The Hook-up on Shore XVI Running down a Radio Fake XVII Bud's Discovery XVIII Unwelcome Visitors XIX "S.O.S." from Friday Island XX Four Prisoners XXI The Hostage XXII The "Crusoe Mystery" Deepens XXIII "Sweating" the Prisoner XXIV "Something Happens" XXV Bud Shoots XXVI The Slingshot Victim XXVII Chased out XXVIII A Radio Eavesdropper XXIX The End of the "Mystery" XXX The Result of a Radio Hazing CHAPTER I Vacation Plans "Now, fellows, what are we goin' to do this vacation?" demanded Cub Perry as he leaned back in his upholstered reed rocker and hoisted his size 8 shoes onto the foot of his bedstead. "School's all over, we've all passed our exams, and now we've got a long vacation before us with nothing to do. It's up to yo-uns to map out a program." "Why can't you help map it out?" asked Bud Taylor with something of a challenge in his voice. "You always have the last word?" "Cub's the dictator of our outfit, and we do the work, that's why," declared Hal Stone. "We always have to listen to him, you know that, Bud. So what's the use o' kickin'?" "Oh, I'm not kickin'," Bud replied. "It's no use. Cub 'u'd drown us out with his voice if we hollered. You know you made 'im admit once that noise was the only thing that 'u'd convince him." "You c'n change that now and call it static instead of noise since we've all become radio experts," smirked Cub with characteristic superiority. "Ha, ha," laughed Bud. "Tee-hee," tittered Hal. By the way, it was from this peculiar manner of laugh, that Hal got his nickname, Tee-hee. Cub's given name was Robert, shortened sometimes to Bob and Bud's was Roy. Cub and Bud were always known by their nicknames, but Hal was addressed as Tee-hee only on fitting or intermittent occasions. The three boys were seated in Cub's room at the Perry home, one of the largest and most interesting samples of domestic architecture in the City of Oswego, on the shore of Lake Ontario. Cub was a rich man's son, but he was constitutionally, almost grotesquely, democratic. There was nothing that would make him angrier, to all appearance at least, than open reference in conversation to the wealth of his father. For such offense he was ever ready to "take off the head" of the offender. However, once in a while one of the bolder of his friends would beard the lion in his den more or less successfully. But it was necessary for such venturesome person to be ever in command of ready wit in order to emerge with a whole skin, figuratively speaking, and Bud and Tee-hee were the real leaders of this victorious few. That was the reason why they were chums of Cub. The fact of the matter, to be perfectly frank, was that Cub was a good deal of an actor. Whether he was conscious of this fact we will not venture to say. He is the only one who knows, and we have never broached the subject to him. The average person on first making his acquaintance doubtless would set him down as a very domineering youth; some might even call him a bully, but they would change their minds eventually if the acquaintance continued. Perhaps the best way one could judge Cub, without being Cub himself, would be to characterize him as being fond of playing the bully just for fun. Indeed, it is quite probable that Cub carried a perpetual laugh in his sleeve. This dominant youth was tall and lanky. He was only 17 years old, but as big as a man, so far as altitude and the size of his feet were concerned. He lacked one inch of being six feet tall, and he wore size 8 shoes. The hope for his proportion was expansion, and judging from the hereditary history of his paternal ancestry, there was good prospect for him in this regard. His father was a large man and well built. To complete the description of Cub, he was a youth of very wise countenance. He liked to read "highbrow stuff" and reflect and inflict it on such victims as were unable to counter his domination. Bud was a short, quick, snappy, bold fellow, "built on the ground". It is possible that he might have upset Cub in a surprise wrestle, but nobody ever dared to "mix" with Cub in such manner; the lanky fellow seemed to be able to out-countenance any suggestion of physical hostility. The glower of his face seemed to spell subjection for all the boy world about him. But Bud would blurt out something now and then that seemed to startle Cub into a mood of reflection, and whenever Cub reflected his dominance wavered. Tee-hee was able to accomplish the same effect without a "blurt". Tee-hee was sly, "as sly as they make 'em", but it was a kind of slyness that commands respect. It even gave an air of respectability to his laugh, for, ordinarily, a "tee-hee" sounds silly. But Hal's "tee-hee" was constitutional with him, and his sly shrewdness gave it real dignity. Cub was usually the dominating factor in all the boy arguments of their "bunch", which varied in numbers from ten to twenty, according to the motive of interest that drew them together. He seldom started an argument, unless his disposition to "bawl" somebody out for uttering a, to him, foolish opinion, he regarded as a starter. He seldom spoke first, but usually last. One day he "bawled" Tee-hee for the latter's "silly laugh", telling him that he would never be a man unless he learned to "laugh from his lungs". "You seem to like a lot of noise," Hal observed. "Yes, it's the only thing that convinces me," Cub shot back rashly. He realized his rashness, but it was too late. Tee-hee "got" him. "I understand you now," the sly youth announced. "Whenever we have a dispute, the only way for me to win is to make a bigger noise than you do." But Cub was not slow, and he evened matters up by roaring: "You can't do it; you ain't got the lungs." However, there was a serious side to this trio of radio boys. They were not known chiefly for their frivolity, which probably would have characterized them if they had got into any bad scrapes. Their deportment was really above reproach, so that their parents reposed a good deal of confidence in them and allowed them to do pretty much as they wished in the matter of their recreation and sports. On the occasion with which the narrative opens we find them very serious minded over a very important problem, although it seemed well nigh impossible for them, even under such circumstances, to bar severely all manner of gaieties. "I don't see where there's anything new for us to do this summer," said Bud after the merriment over the "static repartee" with Cub had subsided. "We c'n go camping or fishin', or we c'n stay at home and listen in." "Oh, you haven't got any invention in that head o' yours, Bud," declared Cub with tone of disgust. "Tee-hee, take your turn and see if you can't hand us somethin'." "Aw, why don't you furnish some brains for us, Cub," Bud objected with spirit. "I never knew you to yet. You just razz us till we turn up the thing all of us wants, and then you act as if you'd done all the work." "Well, what do I pay you for?" Cub demanded, with an air of final judgment. Of course, Cub did not pay them anything; that was just a little evidence of his exasperating domination. Bud saw, as usual, that there was no use of trying to carry his protest further, so he gave way to Hal, who looked as if eager to take his turn. "I tell you what let's do," proposed the latter. "Let's go campin' and take one of our radio sets with us." Cub leaped to his feet enthusiastically, bringing his feet down on the floor with a force that seemed to jar the whole house. Fortunately there was a substantial rug between his descending number 8's and the floor. "That's what I call brains, Tee-hee," he declared, reaching over and planting a hearty slap on the author of this ingenuity. "You deserve a bonus. The scheme is hereby adopted." "Without consulting me?" demanded Bud with very good simulation of hurt dignity. "Absolutely, Bud, you fell asleep and let Tee-hee get ahead of you." "And meanwhile, what did you do?" Bud inquired pointedly. "I sat in judgment over your suggestions," Cub replied readily. "You fellows needed somebody to decide what your suggestions were worth. That's my function--get me?--my function." "Well, I was goin' to vote for Tee-hee's idea," said Bud with slight tone of resentment. "You might 'ave let me get my vote in." "It wasn't needed, it wasn't needed," Cub ruled. "Two's a majority of three." "I'm going to vote for it anyway. I think his idea is a dandy." "Your vote is accepted and recorded as surplus noise." "Static, you mean," Bud suggested with modest sarcasm. "To be up to date, yes." "Tee-hee," laughed Tee-hee. CHAPTER II Tragedy or Joke? The three boys discussed vacation plans along the line suggested by Hal for half an hour, and then Cub said: "We can't get any further on this subject to-night. It's nearly 8 o'clock; Let's go in the radio room and listen to some opera music for a while." He led the way into an adjoining apartment, a veritable radio laboratory. Two years before, as a wireless amateur, Cub had built for himself in this room an elaborate sending and receiving set, and he proved to be one of the first, boy though he was, to appreciate the outlook for the radiophone, even before "the craze" had gripped the country. He soon had his father almost as much interested in the subject as himself, so that the question of financing his latest radio ambition was no serious obstacle. An early result of this active interest on his part was the addition of a receiving amplification with which he could listen in to messages from major-power stations in the remotest parts of the country. Indeed, under favorable conditions, he had picked up messages from as far distant points as Edinburgh, Scotland, and Australia. Cub sat down at the table and tuned to 360 meters. The other boys seated themselves comfortably and waited with a kind of luxurious contentment for the beginning of the program, which came in a few minutes. They "sat through" the entire Westinghouse program and then Cub began to "tune up and down" to find out what else was going on in the air. The room for several minutes was resonant with a succession of squeaks, squawks, whines, growls, dots-and-dashes, whistles, and musical notes. Suddenly he gave a start that aroused the curiosity of his friends and made them more attentive to his actions. "Did you get that?" he shouted. "No," replied Bud and Hal, in chorus, springing forward. Cub was tuning excitedly back and forth about a certain, or uncertain, wave length, which he had lost. "Put on your 'phones," he said, putting on his own. "You may not get it through the horn. I'm sure I got an SOS, very faint. I'm going to try to get it again." Bud and Hal did as directed and listened with quite as much eagerness as that which was evident in Cub's manner. Several minutes elapsed before the search was rewarded. Then at last, in fairly distinct, although faint, vibrations came the distress signal again. All three heard it, and this time Cub caught the wave "on the knob" and did not let it go. The operator sending the distress signal was evidently pleading desperately for attention, which nobody, it seemed, was willing to give to him. Several times he repeated his SOS, following each repetition with his own private call and wave length. Then he broadcast the following message in explanation of his appeal for help: "I am marooned on island in Lake of Thousand Isles. I landed here from a motor boat with wireless outfit. Lake thieves stole my boat and left me here with outfit and little food. Will starve in few days if I don't get help. My call is V A X." "Cracky!" exclaimed Bud excitedly. "Isn't that a thriller! He's an amateur and in trouble. We're in honor bound to help him." "How?" demanded Cub derisively. "What can we do here nearly two hundred miles away from him?" "We might get word to some police or lake patrol that'll go and take him off," Hal suggested. "He's a Canadian," objected Cub. "Didn't you get his Canadian call? We'd have the time of our life getting a Government station to pay any attention to us hams. But listen, somebody's calling him." All three listened-in eagerly, expectantly, wonderingly. Apparently this fellow also was a Canadian amateur, although he failed to identify himself. "Oh, come off, you can't get by with that Robinson Crusoe stuff in this twentieth century," he "jeered" with all the pep he could put into his spark. "Some joke you're trying to play. What kind of publicity stunt is this, anyway?" "No publicity," was "Crusoe's" reply. "I'll starve if I don't get help. You're doing your best to kill me. Keep out, I won't talk to you any more." "I will not keep out," declared the other. "You're an imposter. I'm protecting the public." "Whew!" ejaculated Cub, wiping his brow and snapping over the aerial switch. "I'm going to find out something about this." A moment later his right hand was working the sending key with the speed and skill of an expert, while blue flames leaped over the gap with spiteful alphabetic spits. Hal and Bud watched him eagerly, and, with a skill indicating long and studied practice, read the message their lanky friend shot through the ether. First he tuned for a few moments and then sent the call which had accompanied the first Canadian's "SOS". Then he threw back the switch and received a speedy answer. There seemed to be an almost spasmodic eagerness in the manner in which he sent his acknowledgment. "I heard your call for help," was Cub's next cast. "Who was that fellow that snapped you up so sassy?" "I don't know," answered the professed castaway. "I've been trying to get help for more than a day, and he always breaks in and queers my call. He makes everybody think I'm putting up a prank." "Where is your island?" asked Cub. "Somewhere in the Thousand Islands. That's the best I can locate it. I've never been here before. Where are you?" "At Oswego, New York." "What's your call?" "A V L." "Can you do anything for me?" "I don't know what I can do unless I try to interest somebody near you by wireless. I'll send out a broadcast in any manner you may suggest. But you can do that just as well as I." "I have done it over and over, but it does not do any good," said "Crusoe". "That evil genius of mine always manages to queer me. Finally I got so desperate that I sent out an SOS." "And committed a radio crime," broke in the alleged evil genius. "Don't you know the rules governing that distress signal?" "There he is again," "Crusoe" dot-and-dashed. "Who are you?" demanded Cub. "I am Canadian amateur," was the reply. "That fellow who sent the distress signal is a Canadian college student trying to put over a college prank. I am on his trail to prevent him. We have a wager up; if he induces anybody to go to his rescue, I lose." "That is not true," interposed the sender of the SOS. "What is your call?" Cub inquired. "Yes, give it to him, and tell him what college I am from," proposed the "fellow on the island". "One of the conditions of our wager is that I must not reveal my identity," returned the anonymous amateur. "He's bound by like terms. He does not dare give you his name and address." "That fellow is insane or a villain," declared "Crusoe". "I do not know who he is, but if I starve to death, he'll be a wanton murderer. My name is Raymond Flood. I am not a college student. I am a high school student at Kingston." "Is his name Raymond Flood?" was Cub's next query intended for the anonymous amateur. "No," was the latter's reply. "What is it?" "Under terms of our wager, I must not reveal his name and he must not reveal mine." "Whew!" exclaimed Cub, addressing his two friends, who removed the phones from their ears, the better to hear him. "Can you beat that?" "We sure have hit a sensation of some sort," Hal declared. "What'll we do?" "I don't know what under the sun to do," Cub replied. "I don't like to pass him up, for fear he may be telling the truth; and yet, I don't like to be the victim of a joke." "I tell you what to do," Bud suggested, without any seriousness of intent, however. "Make a dash over the lake in your father's motor boat and rescue this Robinson Crusoe." "By Jiminie, Bud!" exclaimed Cub enthusiastically! "You've hit the nail on the head. Our vacation problem is solved. That's what we'll do, all of us. I don't care whether it's a joke or a tragedy; we'll make a voyage of discovery over that way and see if we can't find Crusoe's island. What say you, fellows?" CHAPTER III Talking It Over What could the fellows say? They couldn't say anything at first, so astonished were they at the announcement from Cub. Then so great was their eagerness, following the recovery from their astonishment that about all they could do was to "fall over each other" in their efforts to express their approval. At last, however, the "panic of joy" subsided, and they began to sift out the obstacles that must naturally obtrude themselves in the way of such a scheme that involved such departure from the ordinary course of events. "Do you think your father will let us go?" asked Hal somewhat apprehensively. "We've taken trips alone before," Cub reminded. "Yes, but only for short trips along the shore or up the canal," Hal replied. "Ontario's a rough lake, you know." "Yes, but safe enough if you're used to it," Bud reasoned, coming to the aid of his lanky friend. "If necessary, we could follow the bend of the shore all the way and never get out of sight of land." "That would make the trip longer and consequently take so much more time to get there," reasoned Cub. "Time's precious in a case like this," Hal averred. "Remember that we must get up there in time to save a fellow with no food on hand from getting an empty stomach." "How long would the trip take?" asked Bud. "Well, let's see," said Cub, picking up a pencil and beginning to figure on a tab of paper before him. "The Catwhisker can make twelve miles an hour under favorable conditions. We could start early in the morning and reach the Thousand Islands surely by noon, and then have the rest of the day to hunt for Mr. Robinson Crusoe." "It might be like hunting for a needle in a haystack," suggested Hal dubiously. "Why shouldn't we be able to find him?" Cub demanded. "It depends on how well Mr. Crusoe can describe his surroundings for us and how well we can follow directions," Hal argued. "That's true enough," Cub admitted. "Let's see if I can get 'im again and what he can tell us." He had no difficulty in picking up the "desperate Mr. Crusoe" again, for the latter proved to be "sparking" the ether with frantic calls in search of the radio boy on whom he believed he had made a serious impression, but who seemed, for some unhappy reason, to have forgotten him. "I was just discussing your case with a couple of friends," Cub explained. "We thought we might make a run down your way in a motor boat if you could give us a clear idea where your island is located." "I can't give you any latitude and longitude," was the "islander's" reply. "I was captured in my motor boat only a mile or two away from home. Then I was blindfolded and put here on this island by the rascals. It's a small wooded island surrounded by several other small wooded islands, making it impossible for me to hail passing boats. I will be glad to pay your expenses and enough more to make it worth your while if you will find me and get me away from here." "I don't know how we'd find you without cruising among the Thousand Islands a week or two," returned Cub. "Have you a flag of distress flying?" "It wouldn't do any good. Nobody would see it." "Oh, I have an idea!" suddenly exclaimed Hal, for he and Bud had put their receivers back on their ears when Cub began to communicate with "Mr. Crusoe" once more. "Hold the wireless while I talk with my friends," Cub directed to the fellow "at the other end of the ether". Then he removed the phones from his ears, and the other boys did likewise. "Well, what's your idea, Tee-hee?" the operator demanded with something of a tone of business challenge. "Why, all we need is a radio compass," Hal replied. "You know I made one last summer, although I didn't have much use for it. We can install it on the boat and make a bee line for that fellow's island if he keeps his spark busy to guide us." "Good!" exclaimed Bud. "That'll settle the biggest problem before us." "Yes," Cub agreed. "You're a regular Thomas Edison, Jr., Tee-hee. I think we'll have to elect you captain of this expedition." "If we make it," Bud conditioned with a slightly skeptical grin. "My opinion, if it's worth anything to you guys," said Cub; "is that we'd better map out our plan thoroughly before we say anything about it to our fathers. Then we can put our arguments in convincing manner." "We must finish our plan to-night, for we ought to start not later than Wednesday morning," Bud argued. "That'll give us one day to get ready in." "We'll need all that," said Hal. "Now, let's get busy, boys, and see how near our plan is finished. It's after 10 o'clock, and I'll have to go pretty soon. If we go, we'll need--" "Some food," itemized Bud. "Yes, enough for us and to feed a starving Robinson Crusoe," amended Cub, beginning the list on a fresh sheet of paper. "And drinking water." "No. 2," commented Cub, as he jotted it down. "And we ought to have a wireless set on hand," Hal suggested. "Sure," said Cub. "You bring that and your loop aerial. This set is too big to transfer on board very well." "That about completes the list, doesn't it?" asked Bud. "We'll have to have a permit," said Hal. "Permit for what?" Bud inquired. "A permit from Mr. Perry to go." "You're kidding now," said Bud. "Maybe you think this is all a joke." "I'm afraid it is, but I'll eat my words--and glad to do it--if Cub's father and our fathers let us go." "We've all got some persuading to do, there's no doubt o' that," Cub admitted; "but I hope we'll succeed. I'll talk to father in the morning at the breakfast table and call you fellows up an' let you know what he says. Now I'll call Mr. Robinson Crusoe again and tell 'im I'll call 'im in the morning and let 'im know what we can do." He had no difficulty in getting the "island prisoner" again, for the latter was waiting eagerly for a message of hope. Cub, however, was cautious in this regard, saying nothing about the plan of himself and his two radio friends. He merely told "Mr. Crusoe" that he would do the best he could for him and would call him next day, specifying the hour. Then Bud and Hal went their separate ways homeward. At 8:30 next morning Cub called Hal on the telephone and inquired: "Hello, Hal, did you talk to your folks about our plan?" "Yes," was the reply; "and I just got through talking with Bud over the wire before you called up." "Well, how does it stand?" "His folks won't let him go and my folks won't let me go unless some experienced man goes along with us." "Hooray! we win!" yelled Cub. "Father thinks it's a peach of an adventure and he's almost as crazy over it as we were last night. He says 'yes' with a capital Y, and he'll go along with us. He says he's been wanting a vacation with some pep in it for quite a while, and this scheme of ours is ninety-nine per cent pep. If you and Bud don't go, father and I are going anyway. So get busy as fast as you can. We're off this afternoon, as early as we can get ready. I've already sent a wireless to Crusoe that we're coming. Good-bye; I'm going to call Bud now. Be over here as soon as you can and help us get ready." CHAPTER IV The Catwhisker The Catwhisker, a neat gasoline power boat of the cruiser type left the private dock of the Perry home in Oswego early in the afternoon with the three radio boys and Mr. Perry on board. This had meant some rapid work by the members of the "rescue party" in preparation for the trip, for it was necessary for them to do considerable buying in the line of provisions and the transportation of a number of articles of incidental convenience, together with one complete sending and receiving wireless outfit. The hook-up of this outfit, on the boat, however, was left for a more leisurely occupation after all other preparations for the cruise were completed and they were well on their way. The name Catwhisker harked back to the days when radio, or wireless telegraphy, was in its infancy in the experience of the three boys whose adventures are the inspiration of this volume. Mr. Perry bought the motor boat at a time when his son and the latter's two chums were busy experimenting with crystal outfits, and the name of the cruiser was suggested to them by the fine spring-wires used to make contact with the crystals in their detectors. No doubt, it was the catchiness of the word, as well as its association with their hobby, that appealed to them in the general search for a name for the boat. This vessel was 36 feet long, with a beam of nine feet and with a canopy covering the after deck. Amidships was a raised bridge deck on which were mounted and housed the wheel and engine controls. Under this and the after deck were the engine-room and the galley, and forward of these were the cabin and two small staterooms. At the bow and in the stern were two tall slim masts that had been erected solely for the extension of a radio aerial. The hull was painted white with a blue stripe midway between the bridge-deck level and the water line. Cub and his father were real chums in matters of boating. Mr. Perry, although ordinarily a man of very neat appearance, on the present occasion had discarded his usual sartorial excellence and appeared on the Catwhisker in clothes easily associated with cotton waste and oil cans. Indeed, he could take care of the engine quite as well as his son, who was an amateur expert, and seemed to enjoy discharging his full share, of all the "overall and apron tasks" on board. Mr. Perry took charge of the wheel and engine controls of the yacht at the beginning of the cruise, so that his son and the other two boys were left free to perfect the hook-up of the radio set supplied by Hal. First, two wires, attached to spreaders at both ends, were extended between the two masts for an aerial, and a lead-in was arranged through one of the windows of the cabin. On a fixed table near this window they anchored firmly the various portions of Hal's sending and receiving set, in order that these might not be thrown down and damaged if the lake should become rough. As the apparatus was supplied with two steps of amplification, Hal had brought also a loud-tone horn to facilitate occasional parlor entertainment should they have leisure to listen-in to programs from various broadcasting stations within their receiving range in the course of their cruise. Hal's outfit was by no means as elaborate or as expensive as was Cub's, but it was sufficient to receive radiophone programs, under favorable conditions, from the strongest stations 300 or 400 miles distant, while the strong spark of his code transmitter had earned for him a wide acquaintance in amateur circles. Before they started, Cub had another dot-and-dash tete-a-tete with "Mr. Crusoe", acquainting the latter with the latest developments of their plan and requesting him to call the Catwhisker regularly at half-hour intervals if the more limited set they would take with them proved insufficient to reach him from the start. "When we reach the Thousand Islands, we will get busy with our loop aerial and find you by radio compass," he promised. The mysterious intermeddler who professed to have a sporting wager with the "island prisoner," was on hand with a machine-gun stream derisive waves, but Cub refused to pay any attention to him, not that he regarded that fellow's version of the affair as utterly unworthy of consideration, but, for the time being, at least, he did not wish to believe it. He was eager for the adventure, which might be spoiled if his father became convinced that "Mr. Crusoe's" SOS was a gambling hoax. The boys took regular turns at the radio table in the cabin that afternoon and found the occupation of listening-in much more interesting than it had been at their homes, not because of any particular difference in the messages, but because of the more romantic character of their new motives and surroundings. Even the multitude of static interferences that swarmed the atmosphere on this, the first oppressively hot day of the season, were combatted with tuning coil, condenser, and detector, so confidently, although with poor success, that Mr. Perry pronounced them all "princes of patience". In other words, the boys were in the best of spirits, all handicaps notwithstanding. Cub's father had not taken his first lesson in wireless telegraphy, and so left the radio field entirely to the three young amateur experts. In spite of the heat, they were able to get a more or less broken message now and then from the "island prisoner", but could get no acknowledgment of receipt of messages sent by them until about supper time. "If it weren't for this heat, we probably could 'ave got a message to him as we were leaving Oswego," Cub remarked to Bud after they had been on the lake about two hours. "The atmosphere is the worst I've ever known it to be," returned Bud, who had been laboring hard with key and spark for some time. "If it don't clear up, we may not be able to begin our hunt for him before morning." "Well, we'll go along until half an hour before dark, I suppose, and then find a place to tie up till morning," said Cub. He consulted his father on the subject, and the latter indorsed the plan. The lake was rather choppy, in spite of the calmness of the day; consequently, the Catwhisker was unable to make a record run to the head of the St. Lawrence River. Ontario is not a placid lake, although it has not the heavy roughness that characterizes Lake Huron. A strong current is driven through its middle by the flood of the upper lakes after its plunge over Niagara Falls, and along the shores is a back-sweep of eddies and swirls. Hence the pilots and shippers of small boats on the lake, if they are wise, keep their weather eyes well peeled for any disturbance that may augment the natural roughness of this body of water. Mr. Perry and his three boy companions were all well aware of the wisdom of weather caution while cruising in the Catwhisker. In the morning before starting, they had consulted the Government forecast and found the outlook favorable, but they were well aware of the fact that absolute dependence should not be put upon even so learned a being as a Great Lakes weather man. Bud made the first score in the frequent attempts to get a message to the "island prisoner". Conditions in the ether became much better toward evening when a cool wind began to blow. Just before sending the message that reached its goal, Bud received the following from VAX: "Where are you? Can't you reach me? Nobody in sight yet. Ate my last crust of bread an hour ago. Have to drink lake water to keep alive. Try again to get a message to me." Bud tried again and received the following reply: "Got you faintly. Try again. Where are you?" But fifteen minutes elapsed before the boy at the key was able to score again. After that, however, they had no difficulty in reaching "Crusoe island" with key and spark. Then arose the question as to whether they should attempt to find the "radio Crusoe's" island that evening or should seek a suitable mooring place and postpone the search until morning. "There's one matter to be taken up before we decide to go much further to-night," said Mr. Perry, who had just turned the wheel over to Hal and joined the conference in the cabin. "What's that?" asked Cub. "The weather. We're right at the beginning of the Thousand Isles now, but we can have a nasty time of it anywhere in the upper part of the river in a storm. The wind is getting pretty lively, and you know how much the temperature has dropped." "Oh, I can take care of that," Bud declared eagerly. "I've been having a chat with a 'ham' somewhere along the coast. I'm sure he'll get the evening forecast for me." As he spoke, Bud dropped his eye on the log where he had made note of the shore "ham's" call and then began to tune for his wave length. To his gratification, he found the fellow busy with his spark and waited till the message was finished; then he threw his aerial switch into sending and lettered the call. The "ham" answered and asked what was wanted. "I want the weather forecast for to-night," Bud replied. "We're out in a motor boat and want to know if it's safe to stay out till dark." "I'll get the latest by telephone and call you back in a few minutes," was the operator's generous offer. Ten minutes later the promised call came, thus: "Clear to-night. Wind brisk, but not violent." Cub was listening-in and read this message to his father. "That means we can go on nearly three hours yet before we have to seek a post for the night," the latter announced. "Good!" exclaimed Cub. "Now I'm going to test that radio compass and see what may be expected of it in the morning if we don't find Mr. Crusoe to-night, which isn't very likely." Preparation for the test was simple and quickly made. The loop aerial, a collapsible affair, was set up in the cabin and connected in such manner that it could be used for receiving simultaneously with the use of the outside aerial for sending. While Cub was thus occupied, Mr. Perry set a hasty supper of prepared foods on the table and "ate a bite". Then he returned to the chart and wheel house and relieved Hal, sending the latter back to the cabin for his meal and for further radio consultation with the other boys. CHAPTER V A Baffling Situation The compass worked admirably. Although the principle of the affair was very simple, Hal must be given credit for having done his work well. So satisfactory did the device prove from the moment when it began to take messages from the "island prisoner", that all on board the Catwhisker became hopeful of success before sun-down. "V A X" kept a stream of waves leaping from his aerial for their guidance and the motor boat chug-chugged along like a hunting hound made more and more eager by the increasing excitement of the hunt. "I wonder what's become of the fellow who tried to head us off," remarked Hal as he left the supper table and prepared to relieve Cub at the wireless. "You haven't heard anything from him, have you?" "No, not a thing all day," Cub replied. "I guess we've tired him out. Did you get anything from him, Bud?" "Not a shiver of the wires," answered the latter. "Maybe he's given us up as hopeless easy marks," Cub suggested. "Why, do you think his story is true and 'Bobby Crusoe' is a fake?" asked Hal. "I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised to find almost anything--or nothing--as we get near to the end of our hunt." "But he must be on the island," Bud reasoned. "And he must have a wireless set, or he couldn't have sent the messages we got. That much is certain." "Not all of it," Hal objected. "Why?" Bud demanded. "Maybe he isn't on an island." "You mean, maybe the whole thing's a fake--eh?" "Maybe." "If the whole thing's a fake, then that other fellow who tried to head us off must 'ave been a party to the game," Cub interposed. "There wouldn't be much sense in that," said Bud. "I agree with you," Cub continued. "The scrap between those two hams was genuine enough." "But they were holding something back from us," Hal declared. "Both of them?" asked Bud. "I shouldn't be surprised." "Nor I, either," said Cub. "Then they've put one over on us," was Bud's inference. "Are you sorry we came?" "I? No, sir!" Cub emphasized. "It's a dandy adventure, whatever the result. I didn't swallow that Crusoe story whole at any time." "Neither did I," said Hal. "I thought there were some funny things about it," Bud announced reflectively; "but I didn't know how to put them together or take 'em apart." "That was my fix," said Cub; "and it's my fix yet." "I guess we all agree that the whole affair is very strange," Hal concluded. "We really don't believe we've been told the truth, and yet we get in worse trouble when we try to make something else out of it." "I wonder what your father thinks about it, Cub," said Bud. "Oh, he accepts it at its face value for the sake of the adventure," the tall youth replied. "But he's wise enough to know there may be a lot of hocus-pocus in the business." For nearly two hours the motor boat wound its way at a fairly good clip among the picturesque islands of the upper St. Lawrence, the radio compass fixing the course as certainly as the hunter's pursuit is directed by the nose of his hound. They had no way of telling, at any time, how far ahead was the object of their search, but they had the satisfaction of knowing that they were constantly approaching it. At last an unexpected climax threw their hitherto clear prospect into confusion. This climax grew out of a series of confounding messages from the "lost islander". "I see you coming," was the first of these messages. "Where is he?" asked Cub and Bud in chorus. Hal was at the table and the other two boys were listening-in. "I don't know," replied the operator. "One of you boys go on deck and see what you can see." Cub dashed up the companionway two steps at a time. In a few moments he returned with the announcement: "There's an open stretch of four hundred yards ahead of us. He's probably on the island at the other end. I'm going back on deck and watch for developments." There was a speaking tube communicating between the pilot house and the cabin and through this Cub kept his boy friends acquainted with the progress of the search. They reached the island in question, but not a sign of human life was discoverable on it. The motor boat passed around it, and meanwhile the radio-compass found the strength of its receiving directly down stream. Cub communicated this condition to the cabin, and Hal dot-and-dashed the following to "VAX": "Where are you? We can't see you." "I saw you," was the reply. "I climbed a tree and saw you headed right for this group of islands." "No, no," objected Hal. "It must be another yacht." "Aren't you a white cruiser with awning mid and aft, and pilot house on bridge deck?" asked "VAX". "Yes," answered Hal. "There's somebody calling us," remarked Bud at this point. "Yes, I get 'im," returned Hal. "Why, it's the mysterious guy who tried to head us off night before last and yesterday." Both boys read the "mysterious guy's" first send with eager impatience. It was as follows: "He's making sport of you. Mark my word, when you reach the island, he'll be gone." "Keep out, you pirate," ordered Hal. "All right, but you'll call yourselves a bunch of fools." The next instant the "island prisoner" broke in thus: "Hurry; they are after me. I think they are the ones who marooned me here. Their boat looks like yours, I guess." "See!" exclaimed Bud. "This makes things look bad. If those fellows are robbers they're armed. We haven't a gun on board, and if we had we wouldn't want to get in a fight over an affair that looks more like a joke than a tragedy." "And yet it may be a tragedy," said Hal. At this moment Cub reappeared in the cabin and the situation was explained to him. "It begins to look like a tragedy," he admitted; "and yet if we treat it as a tragedy and it proves to be a joke, we'll feel like a comedy of errors." "Now, you're getting highbrow, Cub," was Hal's mock objection. "It's common sense, isn't it?" the youthful philosopher reasoned. "Yes, but you forget one thing," the sly-eyed Hal rejoined: "With so much Q R M, it's very hard to pick out common sense in an affair like this." "That's true," replied the other. "We've had more interference in this trip thus far than anything else." "And the big question now is, how're we goin' to tune it out?" "I confess, I'm stumped," said Cub. "Guess we'll have to refer the whole matter to father, but I bet he'll be up against it just as much as we are." Cub turned toward the companionway with the intention of seeking an interview with Mr. Perry in the wheel house, but Hal delayed him again. "Wait a minute," said the operator. "Here's our island friend again." Cub and Bud donned their phones once more. The message received was more startling than any preceding. "They are coming ashore," was dot-and-dashed into the three boys' ears. "I see four bad-looking men. I am going to run before they see me and--maybe--swim. Good-bye." "What in the world shall we do?" exclaimed Bud. "I'm going to find out," declared Cub, as he dashed out of the cabin. Hal, meanwhile, was busy again. The mysterious amateur who had persistently attempted to turn the supposed near-tragedy into a joke was spitting the Catwhisker's call again. "Fools!" he flashed spitefully. "Goodnight." CHAPTER VI A Mystery and Cub's "Goat" Cub hastened to his father and gave him a rapid narrative of events as they had been received by wireless. "Well, that's interesting, to say the least," observed Mr. Perry with a look of curious amusement. Cub waited a few moments for further comment, but as it was slow coming, he asked impulsively: "What are we going to do?" "What do you think we ought to do?" inquired the man at the wheel, looking sharply at his son. "I don't know; I'm stumped," was the boy's reply. "That's a frank admission. First time I've known you to admit such absolute defeat. Do you think we'd better turn about and go back home?" "No," Cub replied with a revival of decision in his tone of voice. "Well, shall we stop, turn to the right or left, or go ahead?" There was a slump to indecision again. Cub looked foolish. His father was making sport of him and he did not know how to answer intelligently. In desperation, however, he replied: "Go ahead." "What for?" asked Mr. Perry. "Shall we dash to the rescue and face those four men, who probably are armed with pistols?" "No, of course not. Anyway, we don't know where they are. They may be twenty-five miles from here, for all we know." "Then we'll have to give up the search if you don't get any more messages from him," declared the boy's father. "That's so," Cub admitted. "And if those men captured him and took him away in their boat, this affair will have to remain a mystery in our lives forever afterward." "You'd better go back to the cabin and see if Bud and Hal got any more messages from him," suggested Mr. Perry. "That's the only hope left," said Cub as he turned to go. But this "last hope" proved to be vain. Bud and Hal were both still listening-in, but with little suggestion of expectancy on their countenances. "Anything more?" inquired the tall youth, unwilling to put his question in negative form, in spite of the fact that his better judgment would have dictated it thus. Both listeners shook their heads. "Then that's the end of our search," Cub declared with a crestfallen and disgusted look. "Why?" asked Bud. "Answer the question yourself; it's easy," "I don't see why we should give up just because we've run up against an obstacle a little worse than any we've met before," said Hal. "All right," Cub challenged. "Let's see what you propose to do." "Well," Hal responded slowly; "we could go on till we found--" He stopped and looked foolish. "Found what?" asked Cub. "The island? How would you do that without something to guide your radio compass?" "That's so"; Hal admitted, with another foolish look. "It's too bad," Bud broke in, with tone well suited to his words. "I suppose the next thing for us to do is to look for a tie-up for the night." said Hal indicating his sense of defeat by his change of subject. "I think father is doing that now," replied Cub. "Guess I'll go and see what his idea is on that subject." By this time the Catwhisker was several miles beyond Grindstone Island and was winding its way through a labyrinthine group to the north of Grandview. The scenery here was so enchanting that Cub and his father speedily agreed that the first convenient, unclaimed natural harbor that they discovered ought to be adopted as theirs for the night. The season was well opened, and there were many boats on the river, so many, indeed, that it seemed strange that any live, intelligent person could be marooned on one of those islands, however vast their number, without being able to call attention to his distress. However, there were main highways in this, as in any other, semi-wilderness, and doubtless some of the by-ways were less accessible, if not less inviting and in the nature of things, less frequently visited. This company of "rescue tourists" had motored through the Lake of the Thousand Islands before, and hence were not at a loss at any time how to find their way. The spectacle, therefore, of a hit-and-miss, crazy-quilt arrangement of long, round, high, low, green, bare islands, many of them decked with a wealth of firs, pines, tamaracks, oaks, maples, bushes and flowers, was not new to them. However, it was not long after their decision to look for a mooring place when they found an ideal cove and tied the Catwhisker to an overhanging bent, gnarled, contorted pine tree. No camp was made on the shore, as they had no intention of remaining at this place longer than until the next break of day. All hands were pretty tired after supper, but Hal decided he must listen-in for a while before going to bed. So he donned a pair of phones and began to tune for an evening program, when a call, clear and distinct, addressed to him, suddenly held his attention. It was from the now mysterious "V A X", the "Island Crusoe". Hal answered it and then received the following message: "Thanks awfully for your good intentions, but I didn't need any help. Sorry to have troubled you. I did have a wager with that other fellow, but not the kind he described. It was the first big contest in the history of radio. I gave odds of four to one and am the winner. We both went to the island together and each put up an independent receiving and sending set. My part of the contest was to induce someone to come to the rescue of me as an island prisoner; his part was to head off any such rescue. He admitted I won after it was certain you were headed for us, and then we both lost our nerve and ducked. Good-bye." Bud and Cub took the hint, from Hal's eager and almost awed manner, that something unusual was coming in through the ether and donned phones in time to catch the latter half of the message. This was sufficient to give them a clear understanding of the situation. After the "good-bye" finish, Hal made a desperate effort to hold the "Island operator" for further conversation, but could get no reply. At last he gave it up and they turned their attention to discussion of the situation. "Well, I wonder if that's the last well hear from him," said Bud as he removed the phones from his ears, while the other two boys did likewise. "More of a puzzle than ever, isn't it?" Cub remarked. "Why, don't you believe the explanation he telegraphed to us?" Hal inquired. "I do not," the tall youth replied positively. "Why not?" Hal persisted. "Doesn't it satisfy your lordship?" "Cut it out, Tee-hee," the alleged "lordship" ordered. "You make me sore." "Then I'll rub on some salve." "If you do, you'll get your fingers burnt," Cub retorted. "I always thought you were a hot one. But that doesn't answer the question before us." "No, because we don't know how to settle it," Cub admitted. "If we knew what we're talkin' about, we wouldn't be batting this nonsense back and forth. We can't hit the nail on the head, so we just fan the air. By the way, what did that fellow say before Bud and I began to listen-in?" Hal reviewed the first half of the statement received by him. Then Mr. Perry, who had just returned from ashore, where he had been testing the security of the tie-up, entered the cabin. "What's the trouble, boys?" he asked, noting the studied expression of their faces. "No trouble, exactly," Cub replied. "Just another mystery." "That's interesting," the yachtsman commented. "Tell me about it." "You get my goat, dad," Cub declared. Mr. Perry laughed. "Why do I get your goat, Bob?" he asked. "Because the more mystery there is floating around, the better pleased you are." "Is that so? Well, what's the mystery now?" "You tell 'im, Hal," requested the youth of the "goat-got affliction". Hal did as requested. Quiet of several moments followed. "Well?" Mr. Perry interrogated. "Well!". repeated Cub vociferously. "Is that all you can say?" "I'd like to return your goat, Bob, but I don't see how I can," Mr. Perry announced provokingly. "In other words, you don't see anything startling about that fellow's last performance," Cub inferred. "No--o, nothing startling," his father replied slowly. "What do you make out of it, then?" "I don't know that I make anything out of it, except a lot of nonsense." "You think it's a joke?" "I wouldn't call it anything but a lot of nonsense until I know more about it." "But doesn't it make you impatient to find out what it all means?" Cub demanded. "No, not in the least. I got over that long ago, my son. Don't let any such habit grip you; it'll wear your nerves out, and then you won't have any lead-in to connect your antennae with your brains." "Ha, ha, ha," laughed the man's youthful audience in chorus, even Cub appreciating the illustration. "When did you begin to study radio, Mr. Perry?" asked Bud. "Oh, I've been learning rapidly ever since I was thrown into the company of you hams," was the reply. "But don't let me get you off the question." "The question--what was the question?" asked Cub, digging his fingers into his rather lengthy locks of hair. "Mystery, wasn't it?" reminded Mr. Perry. "Yes, that's it," Bud replied. "The mystery of the Radio Robinson Crusoe in the Lake of the Thousand Isles." "That sounds interesting, but it's mostly a poetic, or ecstatic, jumble of words," said Mr. Perry. "And right there is the secret of many a mystery. It's clothed in a maze of language. Remove the maze, and it begins to look simple." "Where is the maze of language in this affair?" Cub challenged. "From what I've heard, the whole affair seems to have consisted principally of language. Now, I tell you what we'll do. We'll go to bed early and have a good sleep. In the morning, we'll shake this affair up in a sieve and see if we can't get rid of everything but the main lumps of the facts. Then we'll size them up and see what we can make of them. In my opinion, we can get at the bottom of what you choose to regard as a profound mystery." "If you do, pa, you'll return my goat," said Cub. "It's up to you, Bob," was his father's reply. "I've no desire to keep him in my stable." CHAPTER VII Returning Cub's "Goat" In the morning after breakfast Mr. Perry called a conference on deck for the purpose of discussing "the mystery and Cub's goat", as Hal put it. "Yes," said Bud, his sense of humor stimulated by this allusion; "all Mr. Perry has to do to return Cub's goat is to prove there isn't any mystery about the affair." "I didn't say I was going to do that," objected the adult member of the party. "What--return the goat or disprove the mystery?" asked Bud. "Now you're getting facetious," broke in Cub. "Not necessarily," objected Mr. Perry. "I didn't promise, or have in mind, to do either of those things. The fact of the matter is, a mystery represents the state or condition of mind of the person mystified. Now, I am not mystified over this affair at all; hence there is no mystery in it, so far as I am concerned." "Then explain it to us," Bud challenged. "Oh, no; I didn't mean I could do that." "Then you must be mystified," Bud argued. "Suppose you have a difficult example to do at school, and finally after working at it a long time you have to confess you can't do it--does that mean it's a mystery and you are mystified?" This was a poser for the boys. They had never looked at a subject of this kind on any such light. "Cub, you're the highbrow of our bunch," said Hal after some moments of puzzled silence. "Oh, get away with that stuff," Cub protested, but, somehow, a faint glimmer of satisfaction at the "compliment" shone in his countenance. "No, I won't, either," Hal insisted. "It's true. This thing is too much for Bud and me. You've got to settle it for us." Cub "swelled up" a little with importance at this admission. He was sitting in a camp chair with his feet resting on the taffrail, it being a habit of his to rest his feet on something higher than his head, if possible, whenever seated. Now, however, there seemed to be a demand for superior head-work, so he lowered his feet, straightened up his back, and said: "Well."--speaking slowly--"I don't want to get in bad with my father by trying to prove I know more than he does, but my argument would be that all of life is not arithmetic." "Good!" exclaimed Hal, eager to defend his belief in things mysterious, and Bud signified his approval in similar manner. "Yes, that isn't bad at all," admitted Mr. Perry, glad to have stimulated his son's mind into action. "But if we can't explain this affair with mathematics, maybe we can explain it by some other element of human education." "What, for instance?" asked Cub. "Not by readin', 'ritin', or 'rithmetic." "No, we'll exclude the three R's for the present, although all of them may figure in our work before it is finished." "Well," mused Cub; "the others are history, geography, spelling--" "Why didn't you stop with geography?" asked his father. "Geography!" exclaimed Bud. "How can you use that to explain a mystery?" "It depends on whether geography is involved," Mr. Perry replied. "In this case it seems to me that geography is a very important element. We may have to know considerably more about the geography of the Thousand Islands in order to solve this so-called mystery. Now, mind you, I don't mean to say that we're going to get at the bottom of this affair, but I do want to suggest that if it is to be solved by any systematic process, the first elements to be employed in the process are a little geography and a little arithmetic. With this in view, I would suggest that you get busy with your wireless outfit and see what you can find out." The three boys gazed curiously at Cub's father and then at one another in a puzzled manner. "Haven't I given you enough hint?" asked Mr. Perry. "I don't want to do the work myself--in fact, I couldn't if I wished to, for I can't send a wireless message; but if I could, I know exactly what I'd do." "We might send a broadcast to all other amateurs and find out if any of them can help us," Hal suggested. "How could they help us?" asked Bud skeptically. "I'm sure I can't tell you," replied Mr. Perry. "But you have a dandy field to work on. All you need is a little imagination; then begin to do a little head-work, and before you know it you'll have a lead to work on. And let me add something more. There are two things in this world, which, working together, can knock a mystery into a cocked hat more successfully than anything else in the world that I know of." "I bet I know what they are," Cub volunteered, eagerly. "Mathematics and imagination," almost shouted Hal in a wild scramble of mind to beat Cub with the answer. The latter cast a wrathful glance at the saucy youth who had broken in ahead of him. "Tee-hee!" laughed Bud with fitting imitation of Hal's characteristic vocal merriment. As for Tee-hee, that worthy individual preserved his dignity for the nonce. "Well," laughed Mr. Perry; "You've hit the nail on the head, but I venture to say you can't explain why mathematics and imagination can put a mystery to rout." Hal confessed he was unable to explain. "It's too much highbrow for me," he said. "And I bet it's too much highbrow for Cub." The latter said nothing. Evidently he was thinking hard. He leaned back in his camp chair and hoisted his feet upon the rail again. "Well, let's quit the highbrow field and get down to business," suggested Mr. Perry. "If we're able to put this thing through along mathematical lines, I bet you boys will have enough imagination to tell me why mathematics and imagination can put any mystery on earth to rout." "I'm goin' to get busy with the spark gap," Cub announced suddenly, as he sprang to his feet. "You've got a big thing ahead of you, boys," announced the owner of the Catwhisker. "I venture to say there are some big surprises in store for you. For instance, you're likely to find the newspapers of the United States and Canada giving considerable space to this affair." "How are they going to get hold of it?" asked Bud. "There's where you're short of imagination, my boy. How many amateurs do you suppose were listening in and got the messages between you and those two radio contestants?" "I bet there were a hundred if there was one," declared Hal. "And were they interested?" "Were they?" exclaimed Cub. "Every last one of 'em was wild with curiosity." "And did they talk about it to anybody?" "They didn't talk about anything else," Bud opined. "And didn't you suppose some of those amateurs know some newspaper reporters?" "We fellows all know several reporters," said Cub, with an appreciative grin. "All right," said Mr. Perry, significantly. "Now, all I have to say to you boys is, watch the headlines whenever you get near a news stand." The three radio boys now repaired to the cabin, while the owner of the yacht busied himself about matters of nautical interest to him on deck. "You've got to hand it to my father for one thing," Cub declared as he seated himself near the radio table and hoisted his feet thereupon. "He sure has some imagination." "And some mathematics, too, the way he subtracts mist from mystery every time our brains get lost in a fog," Hal added, with a self-appreciative "tee-hee." Cub and Bud also laughed in spite of Hal's excusable self-appreciation. "Do you know, I don't feel nearly so mystified as I did before that talk with your father began," Bud announced. "It's the mathematics and imagination getting their work in," Cub explained with a wink. "It sounds funny, and yet, I can't help feeling there's something to it," Hal remarked. "Well," said Cub, bringing his feet down from the table with enough noise to rivet a conclusion; "you may call it addition, or subtraction, or multiplication, or division, or algebra, or geometry, or trigonometry, or calculus--does that complete the list?--I'm going to make my imagination leap across the spark gap; so here goes." He snapped the aerial switch into sending, began to "jiggle" the key alphabetically, and the spark leaped with successive spits across the gap. "Cub's got his goat back," Hal remarked with a knowing look at Bud. The latter grinned and nodded his concurrence. CHAPTER VIII Mathematics or Geography? But the morning proved to be a poor time for communication by radio for two reasons. First, the atmosphere was warm, a poor condition for the transmission of ether waves, and after all, night time is the ideal season for such doings. Second, comparatively few amateurs were sitting in at this time of the day, although vacation had arrived and closed the schoolhouse doors. Cub kept up his efforts for an hour, with virtually no success. Although he succeeded in communicating with half a dozen "hams", only one of them had listened-in to any of the messages that passed between the Catwhisker boys and the two Canadian radio contestants, and he was able to throw no light on the "mystery". At last he gave it up for the time being, and joined the other Catwhiskerites on deck for a period of sightseeing enjoyment. They cruised about among the islands most of the day, stopping here and there to inspect some apparently unclaimed scene of enchantment, or visiting various places exploited for gain by private interests as centers of entertainment and recreation. They circumnavigated Wellesly Island, making short stops at several points of interest and at about 4:30 p.m. tied up in a quiet shelter overhung by a low-limbed tamarack and cast their baited fishhooks into the water for a "brain-food" supper. This was not more than half a mile from the tie-up where they passed their first night in the Thousand Islands. The finny fellows bit greedily and in a short time they had enough black bass and pickerel to feed a party twice the size of theirs. After supper all repaired to the cabin, and the boys donned phones, while Cub started a broadcasting campaign in search of information regarding the two Canadian wireless contestants, who seemed to have made a trio of monkeys out of the three radio motor-boat boys. "I haven't much idea what kind of questions to ask or what kind of answers to expect," he said to his companions; "but here goes my best guess." He had selected an intermission period in the atmosphere when the big broadcasting stations were quiet, and then gave the general call and sent out the following: "I want help to identify and locate an amateur who figured in mysterious radio affair in last two days. He said his name was Raymond Flood, that he lived in Kingston, that his call was V A X, and that he was marooned on island in St. Lawrence River. Can anybody help me? Call A V L." Immediately three amateurs, two in Canada and one in New York State, clamored for a hearing. Cub wrote down their calls and then took on the one in Kingston first. "There is no such amateur in Kingston," the latter announced. "I know them all here. V A X is held by somebody in Port Hope. I listened-in to a lot of that stuff and called up three amateurs in Port Hope. I learned that A V L is Alvin Baker who is attending Edwards College." "Why, he's my cousin!" This exclamation from Hal created a real sensation in the cabin of the Catwhisker. Meanwhile Bud had been taking the message down longhand in order to preserve a record of the investigation, so that Mr. Perry, who read as the boys wrote, got the progress of events about as rapidly as did the three youthful experts. It is needless to say that he was as much astonished as were his boy companions. But there was no time now for a discussion of family relationship. After a round of gasps and exclamations, they got down again to the business of their radio investigation. That was about the extent of the information that the Kingston amateur was able to communicate to them, except that he had been an interested listener-in to much of the code conversations between the would-be rescuers and the two very strange radio contestants. He, however, promised to make further inquiries and to call them again if he learned anything that might be of interest to them. "Well, dad, it looks as if you were right when you told us how to go about to solve this mystery," Cub remarked as he dash-and-dotted a "G N" (good night) to the Kingston amateur. "You mean problem," reminded Mr. Perry with a smile. "Well, maybe,--I won't dispute your word since your idea has proved so brilliant thus far--but I can't see the mathematics yet." "Nor the geography?" "Well, yes; it took us from Kingston to Port Hope and from there to Edwards College," Cub admitted. "I suppose there's a little geography in that." "Remember this, that mathematics isn't all figures," said the operator's father. "Keep that in mind, and maybe it'll be worth something to you before we're through with this affair." "How does the discovery of my cousin come in?" Hal inquired. "Is that geography or mathematics?" "Do you mean that, Hal?" asked Bud wonderingly. "You don't mean that fellow is really your cousin?" "I surely do, if he's Alvin Baker. You know my folks used to live in Canada. And don't you remember that my cousin Al visited us three years ago with his father and mother? He wrote to me several times from Edwards College, but I didn't know he had a wireless set, and I suppose he didn't know I had one." "Well, it makes the hunt more interesting, anyway," said Cub. "But let's not waste any more time. Here goes again." He called the other Canadian amateur on his list of three and learned from him that many wireless boys had followed the course of the rescue boat with their receiving outfits. From him Cub got the calls of four of these interested boys. Then he called the third on his original list, but all the information the latter was able to give was that a metropolitan morning newspaper carried a column "story" on the front page about the Thousand Island Crusoe and the rescue boat from Oswego. "You're right again, dad," said Cub, with a grim grin of subdued wonder and eagerness. "I shouldn't be a bit surprised to find that the Associated Press has chartered a boat and is following us," declared Mr. Perry. "Would that be mathematics or geography?" asked Bud. "It would be imagination," replied Mr. Perry with a keen smile. "But, say, Cub, don't you think you've grabbed off enough glory for yourself? Give your friends a chance to win some honors." "Right you are, dad," returned the boy at the key, rising and removing the phones from his ears. "Hal, you call half this list and then let Bud call the rest" It was well for the sake of a distribution of honors that this course was taken, for a thrilling surprise was in store for them in response to the next call. CHAPTER IX The Radio Diagram As good fortune decreed, Hal found Number One in the new list sitting in and listening for anything interesting in the ether. It required only a few short sentences to acquaint this amateur with the object of the Catwhisker's search. "I can tell you just how to find those fellows," he replied. "I listened-in to the best line of detective work on that subject you ever heard of. Sherlock Holmes isn't in it there." "Hooray!" shouted Bud, as he finished jotting down the last sentence. "There are three amateurs, one in Clayton, N.Y., one in Rockport and one in Gananoque, Ontario, who have radio compasses and they worked together to locate the fellow on the island," continued the informant with the eagerness of fraternal interest and generosity. "I will give you their calls--" The message was interrupted by a strong spark, which could not be ignored. Sender Number one stopped sending, and Hal gave ear to the new message. "I will save you the trouble," read the dots and dashes evidently addressed to the operator he had just "crowded out," "I am at Rockport and am one of the three radio compass boys referred to. I can supply the dope right now." Hal threw over the aerial switch and flashed the one word "Shoot!" Then he swung back again and all three boys listened eagerly. "Have you a good map of the Thousand Island region?" inquired the loop aerial operator. "Yes," Hal replied. "Well, take these directions and then draw the line on the map. Draw one line from Clayton, N.Y., northeast, 47-1/2 degrees from perpendicular; another from Rockport, Ontario, southeast, 11 degrees from perpendicular; another from Gananoque, southeast, 76 degrees from perpendicular. The intersection of those lines will indicate the island those messages came from." "He was on an island, was he?" asked Hal. "Sure, or on a boat," was the reply. "He could not have been on the mainland. We were careful and could not have been more than a mile off in our reckoning. All three of us hit it the same." "Where was the fellow who tried to head us off?" asked Hal. "When?" "At any time." "We located him at various points along the river. No doubt he was on a boat up to the very last when the two were very near together." "Where was the island operator when he sent his last message? Did you get the one in which he confessed the affair was a hoax?" "Yes. But he did not send that message. It was sent by the other fellow." "How do you know?" "That was plain. Did you not notice his peculiar manner of sending? All three of us noticed that." "Did you pick up any more from them since then?" "Not a dot." Hal then asked the obliging amateur to indicate as nearly as possible the location of the island from which the messages came. The latter did as requested, and Hal marked the point on the chart of the St. Lawrence River carried by the Catwhisker. This closed the wireless interview. Hal promised to report back to the Rockport amateur any further developments of interest and tapped "goodnight" with his key. "Well, your two main points have been proved, Mr. Perry," Bud announced as all three boys removed the receivers from their ears. "What are they?" asked the man thus addressed. "Mathematics and geography." Mr. Perry smiled. "Yes," he said "I could hardly have hoped for so remarkable a demonstration of my theory. You boys have solved the geography of this problem with the aid of some very clever mathematics. But what branch of mathematics is it?" "We didn't do it ourselves," Hal reminded. "It was those three amateurs with their loop aerials." "Wasn't it more mechanical than mathematical?" Cub inquired meditatively. "Those radio compasses make me think of a surveyor's instrument." "Oh, pshaw, my boy, don't spoil everything," pleaded the last speaker's father. "I'm afraid you've missed the big point. Mathematics is the biggest factor in all mechanics. Bud, I thought from the way you spoke that you grasped the situation completely. Can't you help Bob and Hal out? By means of what branch of mathematics was that island of our Canadian Crusoe located?" "Geometry," replied Bud confidently. Cub snapped his finger with an impatient jerk of his long right arm. "Of course!" he exclaimed in disgust. "Every branch of mathematics I ever heard of, except geometry, went buzzing through my head. I was trying to recall something in algebra that would fit this case." "Oh, Cub," laughed Hal; "algebra is all x's and y's and z's over z's and y's and x's," "I admit I'm a chump," Cub grinned with a shrug of self-commiseration; "but say, let's draw those geometrical lines on our chart and see if we get the same result those radio compass fellows got." Cub produced the chart and a hand-book diagram of a mariner's compass about three inches in diameter. Fortunately the chart was made of thin, vellum-like paper, almost transparent, so that when laid over the diagram, the minute points of the compass, indicated with clear black lines, could be seen through. First the dot representing the town of Clayton was placed over the point at the center of the compass, with the north and south line of the compass exactly coinciding with the meridian of the town. Then Cub traced on the chart lightly with a pencil the 47-1/2-degree northeast line of the compass. Next he performed a similar operation with the center of the diagram over Rockport and next with the center of the diagram over Gananoque, following instructions in each of these cases with reference to the direction lines to be drawn. The result was that the intersection of the three lines was at approximately the point indicated by the Rockport amateur. "Now we're ready to continue our search," Cub announced. "That's pretty good progress, I must say," Bud declared; "but here's a new question to get us into trouble again." "Oh, for goodness sake, don't," pleaded Cub. "You've had your example of what my mathematical dad can do with such foolish creatures." "Let him express his doubt," suggested Mr. Perry with a smile; "for, if a man must doubt, he'd better shout than smother his ideas in a skeptic pout." "Yes, get it off your chest, Bud, and then take your medicine," advised Hal. "Well, suppose we find the island and nobody there, how are we going to know it's the right one?" This hit the other two boys pretty hard. The possibility of such a situation had not occurred to either of them. However, Cub preferred to take it in lighter vein, for he replied: "By his footprints on the sandy beach. You mustn't have a Crusoe Island without some footprints, you know." "The trouble is you're anticipating too rapidly, Bud," Mr. Perry advised. "Columbus would never have discovered America in that frame of mind." "All right, I'll change the frame," said Bud. "We'll just go ahead and see what we shall see." "We've got to go ahead if Hal's cousin is in peril," declared Cub. "Do you really believe the Crusoe boy is your cousin, Hal?" asked Bud. "Of course that's hard to believe, but the evidence points in that direction," Hal replied. "At least if he is your cousin, we know now that he wasn't making monkeys out of us, as that last message, supposed to come from him, made it appear he was doing," Cub admitted. "Yes," put in Mr. Perry; "it looks now as if he was telling a straight story all along." "If that's true, then he's probably in serious trouble right now," said Hal. "Probably a prisoner in the hands of robbers, if not worse," Bud supplemented. "Let's go to bed at once and get a good night's rest so that we will be in condition to put forth our best efforts to find him and rescue him in the morning," proposed Mr. Perry. This proposal met with indorsement from all, and in a short time they were in their berths, employing their best skill to induce sleep under condition of much mental excitement. CHAPTER X The Island-Surrounded Island Early next morning the Catwhisker left its mooring under the tamarack and started on the new search for the "Canadian Crusoe's" island. Guided by the "mathematical chart" prepared with the directions given by the radio-compass amateur, the crew of the motor boat had little difficulty in finding the approximate location of the island prison; but when arrived there, they realized that considerable work was still before them, for they were in the midst of a veritable sea of islands, varying in size from a few car-loads of stone and earth to several acres in extent. "Well, how are we goin' to begin?" asked Hal as Cub stopped the engine in a pond-like expanse, surrounded by a more or less regular rim of islands. "The first thing to do, I should say is to make the best possible reckoning of our bearings and then try to fix the point of intersection of those three lines indicated by the radio compasses," said Mr. Perry. "That's right," Cub agreed. "We mustn't forget our mathematics." "It seems to me that we ought to be able to pick this place on the chart," Bud suggested. "Yes, especially if we keep in mind the location of some other landmarks, or watermarks, that we passed in the last half or three-quarters of an hour in getting here," said Hal. Cub produced the chart, and the study of locations and island arrangements began. As indicated by expectations in the course of their discussion, they were able to locate a few of the larger islands and with these as bases for further reckoning, they at last picked out what seemed to be the point of intersection of the three pencil lines on the chart. This necessitated a little more cruising about, but within an hour after their first stop they completed their reckoning. "There's the island that seems to come nearest to the intersection," said Mr. Perry, pointing toward an abrupt elevation, a hundred yards long and half as wide and covered with bushes and a few small trees; "but it doesn't seem to answer the description very well. No other islands near it." "I don't see how anybody could be marooned on that place with boats passing back and forth near it every hour of the day," Hal commented skeptically. "Neither do I," Bud agreed. "Well, let's do our work thoroughly anyway," Mr. Perry suggested. "Shall we go ashore and look that place over?" asked Hal. "Sure." "But what do you expect to find?" Cub inquired. "I don't expect to find anything. I had no expectation when I suggested that you boys canvass the radio field for information to clear up what you chose to call a mystery. I had no idea what might turn up as a result of such canvass, but I know it was about the only thing for you to do to start a move in the desired direction." "And something sure did move," Hal remarked appreciatively. "Well, let's run around this island and find a landing place," Cub proposed. The run was made, with Cub in charge of the wheel and engine controls. They circumnavigated the island with unsatisfactory result. "That settles it," Bud declared. "If San Salvador had been like that, Columbus would have made his first landing somewhere else!" "Robinson Crusoe would never have found any footprints in the sand there," Hal declared. "Yes, we'll give it up for the time being," Mr. Perry declared. "We won't try to scale any perpendicular banks, fifteen or twenty feet high, at least, not to begin with." "I tell you what we ought to do," Hal volunteered next. "Let's accept this island as the center of probability." "What in thunder is that?" Cub demanded. "That's a good one on you, son," laughed the latter's father. "I thought you were the highbrow of your bunch; but here's our subtle Tee-hee putting a bit of clever phraseology over on you." "Oh, I know what he means," Cub rejoined with a panicky haste to recover lost prestige. "I was just giving him a dig. He's forever giving me one, whenever I come along with anything of that kind." "It indicates that his mind is maturing rapidly," said Mr. Perry. "All right, Hal, we'll accept this island as a center of probability--what next?" "Why, let's cruise around about half a mile in all directions and pick out those islands that look as if they might have concealed a prisoner from view of passing boats." "That's a good suggestion," said Mr. Perry. "Bob, start the boat again." The inspection required about an hour, at the end of which they compared notes and found that their island inventory disclosed the following conditions: Three possible places of concealment for the "Canadian Crusoe" had been discovered. Two were small islands a short distance from each other in a region of shallows and more or less hidden by rows of long slim islands. No boat of greater draught than a canoe could make its way through the intervening passages. In other words, these islands were virtually isolated from all river traffic. The other possible place of concealment was an island about five acres in extent, completely hemmed in by a group of other islands, which were so overrun with rampant vegetation, including bushes and trees, as to conceal the inner isle from any but the most scrutinizing vision. "That is the place we want to explore first," announced Mr. Perry as reference was made to this retreat in the check-up. "I agree with you," Bud declared. "If the prisoner left any traces behind him at all, we're likely to find them on that island in there." "Is there any way we can get in?" Hal inquired. "Too bad we haven't a small rowboat or canoe with us." "We'll investigate and see what we can find in the way of a water passage into the interior," Mr. Perry announced. "That means a little more circumnavigating," Bud inferred. "Right you are," said Cub. "Me to the pilot house again." Accordingly he resumed his position at the wheel and the boat was put in motion again. His father followed him and cautioned him against too much speed in such places. Slowly the Catwhisker crept around the island-surrounded island until they discovered a passage somewhat wider and apparently deeper than others they had seen thus far in the outer rim. "It looks as if we might get through there," suggested Hal. He and Bud had followed into the pilot house soon after Cub and his father repaired to that place. "It does look a little that way," replied Mr. Perry. "We might creep in there slowly, and if we find the passage obstructed so as to block our way, we could back out," Hal continued. "We have some long fender poles," Cub amended. "We could feel our way with them and probably keep out of serious trouble." "All right, let's make the attempt," said Mr. Perry. "I'd very much like to get in there with this boat." Cub started the engine and the Catwhisker began slowly to nose its way through the passage. In a few minutes the little craft was alongside a ledge of rock that projected as a sort of forehead from the top of a perpendicular short front, and the pilot brought her to a full stop. CHAPTER XI The Deserted Camp Both the inner island and the surrounding rim of elongated isles were covered with a thick growth of trees and bushes, a condition that caused Hal to exclaim: "I bet this is the place." "What makes you so certain of that?" inquired Mr. Perry, looking sharply at the boy. "Because it's an ideal place for a Crusoe to be hidden so that passing ships could not see him," Hal replied. "But might he not swim over to one of these surrounding islands and attract attention from there?" "Yes, if there's a place to get ashore after swimming across," said Cub. "There's nothing but high steep banks all along here, so far as I can see," Bud remarked. "That's a good line of observation," was Mr. Perry's commendation. "Now, let's explore this island and see if your points are well taken." Even the landing at which the boat now rested was not particularly attractive as such at first view because of a rather difficult climb between it and the main level of the island. However, all the members of the band of "Crusoe hunters" were good climbers and they soon made their way up the stony steep to the surface land level. "It's funny somebody hasn't picked this place as a site for a summer home," Mr. Perry remarked as he took a hurried view of his surroundings. "The trouble is it doesn't look like a very interesting place from a view out on the river, and there are hundreds of islands to choose from," said Cub. "Yes, I suppose so," his father agreed; "but in my opinion the place deserves a second look-over. I'm going to keep it in mind as a future prospect." "We'll have to put up a radio station here then," said Cub. "Oh, sure, we can't do without that wherever we go now-a-days," his father replied. They skirted the entire shore of the island and found Bud's suggestion regarding high, steep banks to be true in every quarter. Not another practical landing place, except with derrick or rope ladder, was discovered. They estimated the island to be about five acres in extent. "Well, we haven't found much evidence yet, indicating that this is the place we were looking for," Cub remarked as they arrived back at the starting point of their exploration. "I suppose the next thing for us to do is to explore the interior of the island, and then perhaps we'll be in a position to form some sort of conclusion," said Mr. Perry. "All right, let's finish this job as soon as possible," Bud proposed, as he started toward a thicket of bushes and small trees a few yards from the landing place. All being in harmony with this plan, there was a general move toward the interior. The thicket, however, proved to be only about twenty feet in depth, and beyond this was a clear area a quarter of an acre in extent. "Somebody's had a camp here not many days ago," Cub announced, as he pressed forward eagerly toward the center of the open area. "Yes, and a tent has stood right here," said Mr. Perry, indicating several guy-rope stakes driven in the ground. "Whoever it was didn't leave more than a day or two ago," Hal declared. "See how the grass is tramped down around here?" "What's this?" exclaimed Bud as he ran back toward the thicket through which they had passed and picked up a pole about ten feet long and two inches thick. Mr. Perry and the other two boys rushed forward and made an eager examination of Bud's discovery. "This looks interesting," said Bud significantly as he called attention to several worn places at both ends and the middle of the pole, as if with iron rings or wire held close around it under a strain. "There's another just like this one over there," cried Hal, suddenly darting forward toward a slender pine tree about a hundred feet away and standing a short distance out from the thicket border of the open area. Mr. Perry, Cub, and Bud rushed after Hal, who picked up, under the pine tree, a pole almost the exact duplicate of the one found by Bud. After a careful examination of them both, Mr. Perry announced: "It looks to me, boys, as if you had discovered the spreaders of a demolished aerial." "No doubt of it," Hal agreed. "Somebody used this tree and that one over there as masts of an aerial." "But trees are not supposed to be good for aerial masts," Bud objected. "They're all right if you have your insulation well out beyond the branches," said Cub. "Yes, that's true," Bud admitted. "And look up there--see that wire? The fellow who took down this aerial didn't do his work very well." All looked up in the tree and saw a wire hanging down among the branches and appearing to be attached at the farther end near the top of the pine. "It was probably done in a hurry," Mr. Perry observed. "And that is one more point to the argument that this is the island we were looking for," said Bud. "Yes, but the fellow we came to rescue is gone and left no trace where he's gone to," added Cub. "Still, don't you think the search has been worth while?" the latter's father inquired. "I do," put in Hal, who had been noticeably quiet and meditative since the last very important discovery. "This makes it look as if that last distress message we got from the island was no fake affair?" "Why?" asked Bud. "Why!" flashed Hal. "It's plain enough to me. Those four fellows, he said were coming to attack him, probably overpowered him and swept away his camp, radio outfit, and all." "And what did they do with him?" demanded Cub, eager for the last chapter of the plot. Hal seemed about to make answer to this question, but something of the nature of a "lump in his throat" checked his utterance. His friends read his mind without difficulty. "Never mind, Hal," said Cub with his bravest effort at consolation; "if the prisoner on this island was your cousin, we'll follow those enemies of his to the end of the world and make them give him up, won't we, dad?" "Don't you worry too much over this affair, Hal," urged Mr. Perry by way of response to his son's extravagant assurance. "If the person you got those messages from was your cousin, I don't believe the fellows who were after him had reason to do him any serious harm. But you may be sure that we will not leave a stone unturned in an effort to solve this--this--" "Mystery," suggested Cub mischievously grasping at the opportunity to give his father a good-natured dig. "Call it what you wish," smiled Mr. Perry. "But under any name you may be pleased to style this problem, we are going to go after it with some more mathematics--" "And geography," interposed Cub. "Yes, and geography, and you boys know what success we have had with mathematics and geography in this search of ours thus far. Now, meanwhile, I'm going to make a new suggestion which I hope you boys will look upon with favor. Let's establish a camp of our own right here on the spot where the Canadian Crusoe had his camp." CHAPTER XII Hal's Discovery The boys were delighted with the suggestion of Mr. Perry that they establish a camp on the island and needed no urging to begin work on the project. With true outing instinct they had come prepared for just such an emergency as this. They had brought with them a tent large enough for four and a complete set of camp tools, including spade, shovel, axe, pickaxe, hatchet, saw, hammer, and nails. Returning to the Catwhisker, they hauled all these supplies out on deck preparatory to taking them ashore. "Let's make a better ascent up this steep bank before we carry these things up," Mr. Perry proposed. "It's quite a climb, as it is, without a load in our arms to hamper us." "Only one person can work at a time to any advantage," Bud suggested. "That's true," replied the director of the expedition. "But we can work in rapid shifts and finish this job quickly. I'll take the first trick and make things fly for about fifteen minutes, and then one of you can take my place." With these words, he stripped off his coat, seized the pickaxe and shovel and stepped over the side of the boat onto the landing ledge. Then he began a vigorous attack on the steep incline between the ledge and the land level above. The task consumed a little more than an hour of speed labor, and by that time it was after one o'clock and each of the hillside stairway builders had worked up a very healthy appetite. So they prepared and ate luncheon on board the yacht, and then began the work of moving tent and other supplies to the site selected for their camp. By the time this was done and the tent pitched, it was 3 o'clock. "Now, what next?" asked Cub as he sat down on a camp chair after the last guy rope had been drawn taut and fastened securely to its peg. "It seems to me that it's about time for another pow-wow of the Catwhiskerites." "I agree with you, Bob," said his father, also unfolding a camp chair and sitting down, followed by similar action on the part of the other two boys. "Well, what's the question?" asked Bud. "I'll offer a question if somebody'll take the chair and preside," Hal volunteered. "All right," Bud agreed. "You act as chairman, Mr. Perry." "I am elected by Bud, there being no opposition," announced the owner of the Catwhisker. "Now, what is the question, Hal?" "I'll put it this way," the latter replied: "Resolved, that mathematics is more useful to a detective than a flashlight or a skeleton key." "That isn't half-bad at all," declared Cub in the midst of general laughter and applause. "The main trouble is that we can't find anybody on this island to take the other side of the question." "Very well," ruled the chair; "this question being decided in favor of the affirmative, we will now proceed to the next." "Which is as follows," Bud announced; "to-wit, why have we established our camp on this island, how long are we going to remain here, and what shall we do while here?" "Now, we're getting down to business," said Cub. "But that's a composite question. First, why are we here?" "We're here because we're here," Hal replied solemnly. "The chair is willing to accept that as a good and valid reason provided other collateral questions are answered satisfactorily," Mr. Perry announced. "Next question, how long are we going to stay here?" Cub continued. "I should say we will stay here until we find a reason for moving on to the next place," said Bud. "Another excellent answer and fully supporting answer number one," Mr. Perry announced. "Now, for an answer to question number three--What shall we do while here?" "I'll answer that," said Cub; "well fish, cook, eat, sleep, explore and keep our eyes peeled." "Peeled for what?" asked Hal. "More mathematical evidence." "Good!" exclaimed Bud. "We mustn't lose sight of the purpose of this expedition. If our radio Crusoe is really Hal's cousin, we're bound by the ties of friendship to stick to our task till it's finished." "Very well," said the chair. "Having settled the question of general policy, let's get down to some more detail. What shall we do next?" "Complete our exploration of the islands," said Cub. "There's no telling what we may find." "Now, you're beginning to look at things the way your father does," put in Hal shrewdly. "How's that?" Cub inquired. "Why you're willing to look for a trail. I'm not saying you were any worse than Bud and I were before we got started on this hunt. We just stumbled on a trail to begin with, but when we lost it we didn't know what to do next until your father told us it was up to us to scout around and find it again." "Yes, that's right," Cub admitted. "We scouted around in the air and found the trail that brought us here." "Moral: Whenever at a loss, do some broadcasting," suggested Mr. Perry. "Right," declared Bud; "Now the thing for us to do is some physical broadcasting on this island." "In other words, we'll all go in different directions and examine every square foot of this island," Cub inferred. "Exactly," assented Mr. Perry. "It ought not to take very long. There are only about five acres here, although the place is pretty well covered with bushes and trees." Without further ado they separated toward different points of the compass. It was indeed a random exploration, well characterized as something of a "broadcast," but the task was well executed by all. They had no definite expectation in view, and hence they had to content themselves with examining every physical feature as a naturalist or a topographer, perchance, would look for the feature demands of his specialty, and in about half an hour reconvened in front of their tent. Hal was the only person present with a look of excitement or eagerness on his face, and consequently the general interest of the others was directed toward him. "You've found something, I know, Hal," Bud declared. "You came running through the bushes as if you were chased by a catamount or else you had something on your mind that threatened to burst your cranium." "I didn't meet a catamount," replied the boy to whom these remarks were addressed; "but I did find something that excited me very much. I've learned two important things." "What are they?" Cub demanded. "I've learned the name of this island and made sure of the name of the person we came here to find." "You don't say!" Cub exclaimed. "I don't see how the name of this island can mean anything to us, but we should be very glad to know who the fellow is that we came here to find." "Well, the name of this island is important, or at least interesting," Hal returned; "and I am going to give you that first. It is Friday Island and was given that name by the Robinson Crusoe who was marooned here because he landed here last Friday. Now, I'll tell you the other important item. The fellow who was marooned with a wireless outfit was no other person than my cousin as I suspected. And I have learned why he was marooned here." "Why?" demanded Hal's three companions in chorus. "Because he was a college freshman and some of the upper classmen had it in for him and they simply strong-armed him, captured him, and brought him here to haze him." Every one of Hal's three companions gasped with astonishment. The possibilities of such an explanation of this strange "radio-island affair" had never occurred to one of them. CHAPTER XIII "Robinson Crusoe's" Diary "How in the world did you find that out?" "Who told you all o' that?" "Where is your cousin now?" These questions and others of like character were fired at Hal in rapid succession, indicating the eagerness of all the members of his audience for more light on the subject. As for Hal, he was moved by conflicting emotions, which puzzled his friends considerably at first. He did not burst forth with a storm of replies, a thing that he might well have done consistently with boy nature. He seemed to be meditating how to begin, as if there was so much on his mind he did not know what to say first. In reality, although this confusion of ideas probably had something to do with his momentary silence following the storm of questions rained at him, Hal was much elated with the good fortune that had thrown some remarkable information into his possession; still, he was deeply concerned over the possible fate of his cousin. It was the latter concern, no doubt, that tempered and held in check his jubilation over his discovery. "I think, Mr. Perry, you will admit now that there is such a thing as a mystery," he said. "Why?" inquired the individual at whom this remark was directed. "No, I am merely very curious," replied Mr. Perry, with a smile. "Oh, hurry up, Hal, and tell us what this means," urged Cub impatiently. "What's the use o' keepin' us guessing all this time. Bud and I'll admit we're mystified." "Yes," grinned Mr. Perry; "you'd better hurry up and enlighten us, or I'll have to drag the secret out of you with mathematics." "Addition or subtraction," asked Hal. "Extraction," replied "the man who couldn't be mystified" with significant emphasis on the "ex". Laughter followed this quip, the levity of which caused Hal to feel more like "loosening up". "Well," said the latter, producing a small leather-back notebook from one of his pockets; "here is the secret of my information." "Where did you get that?" Cub demanded. "I found it." "Where--not here?" "Yes, on this island. It's a diary of my cousin, beginning with the time he was left here by a bunch of college hazers." "Does it give any hint where he is now, Hal?" inquired Mr. Perry. "I don't think so," replied the boy with the notebook. "I ran my eye through it hurriedly, but didn't have time to read it all. If you'll sit down and listen, I'll read it to you from the beginning." All being agreeable to this proposition, they seated themselves on camp chairs in front of the tent and Hal began as follows: "First, I'll begin by telling you where I found this book. I'll take you back to the spot after I've finished reading. Before I found this book, I discovered a sign, or notice, written on a piece of paper and pinned to the trunk of a tree about four feet from the ground. On that paper was written with lead pencil these words under date of last Friday: "'I Alvin Baker, a student at Edwards College, hereby name this island Friday island, because I was marooned here alone, like Robinson Crusoe, on Friday, June 9, 1922.'" "I'd like to make the acquaintance of that boy," said Mr. Perry warmly. "He has both imagination and a sense of humor in the midst of adversity." "Naturally I began to look about me for some trace of the person who had pinned the notice on the tree," Hal continued. "I was standing in an open space about thirty feet in diameter. The tree on which this notice was pinned is at the edge of that space. There are a few small bushes here and there in the open, but the ground there is covered with long coarse grass. The first thing that attracted my attention, as I began to look about me was the fact that the grass was trampled down over a considerable area. I examined it carefully and while doing so found this notebook in the grass. It didn't take me long after that to reach the conclusion that Cousin Alvin had been attacked by somebody and in the struggle lost this notebook out of his pocket." "It was probably the four ugly looking men he said were coming ashore when he sent his last distress message to us," Cub inferred. "I wonder why he didn't tell us the truth," Bud put in. "Why didn't he tell us he was being hazed by some college boys?" "He explains that in his diary," Hal replied. "Now listen and I'll read the first entry." Hal's injunction being met with quiet, eager attention, he read as follows: "Friday, June 9, 1922. Last night while I was walking through the grove of trees near the campus of Edwards College, I was attacked and overpowered by several sophomores, who slipped a bag over my head and carried me to a motor-boat moored a short distance away. They tried to conceal their identity, but I recognized the voices of Jerry Kerry and Buck Hardmaster. They kept me a helpless prisoner, with arms and legs bound and eyes bandaged, in the cabin for several hours, during which I could feel the boat constantly on the move. About 3 o'clock in the morning I was carried ashore on this island. My hands were untied, and then I could hear my captors hurrying away. I removed the bandage from my eyes and with my pocket-knife cut the rope around my ankles. It was too dark yet to see anything distinctly, so I had to wait for break of day before doing anything. An hour later I discovered near the landing place a considerable layout of supplies and equipment most of which I recognized as my own property. Then I recalled that one of my captors had thrust something into one of my pockets just before they took me ashore and I put my hand into that pocket and drew out an envelope that I knew I had not put there. In the envelope I found a typewritten note, which read as follows: "'Alvin Baker, you have succeeded during all of your freshman year to date in frustrating every attempt to haze you and have boasted that there was no "gang" of boys at Edwards smart enough to do the trick. We are now performing the trick in a manner that ought to convince you that such a boast is the freshest of freshman folly. We raided your room and took therefrom your radio sending and receiving outfit, and have added thereto necessary equipment for erecting an aerial. This we leave with you in order that you may summon help through the atmosphere. Meanwhile, you may comfort yourself with the distinction of being the first college freshman ever given a radio hazing. Now, put up your aerial and send out a message for help. Radio is your only hope. Nobody ever stops at this island and it is impossible for passing vessels to see any signal of distress you may devise. If you are too proud to admit defeat and refuse to send out a broadcast for help, you must remain here two weeks, at the end of which time you will be captured again after dark, bound and blindfolded, and taken back to the mainland and released. The identity of the persons responsible for your defeat you will never be able to discover. Enough canned food has been left with you to keep body and soul together a week. At the end of that time, if you have failed to effect your own rescue by radio, more canned food will be left here for you. We are leaving also a tent, a few camp utensils, matches, and fishing tackle. You must drink river water. Now prove yourself as big as your boast.' "I decided to defeat those fellows, if possible, by getting away from the island without broadcasting an admission that I had been marooned by sophomore hazers. So I pitched the tent and then constructed an aerial out of material supplied by them and began to broadcast messages of distress, saying that I had been marooned by river thieves who had stolen my boat. But soon I found that there was someone 'in the air' who was determined to defeat this purpose. It is now 11 p.m., and he seems to have been successful in his attempts to make it appear that I am a faker. Nobody has offered to come to my rescue." Saturday's entry in the diary opened as follows: "Last night, between 2 and 3 a.m., I was awakened by a slight noise outside near the tent. I stole cautiously to the entrance and peered out. It was a bright moonlight night and in front of the tent I saw two men apparently examining the camp with much curiosity or evil intent, perhaps both. Evidently they saw me watching them, for they suddenly turned and fled. I followed them cautiously and saw them get into a power boat and motor away. I called to them, explaining my situation and offering to pay them if they would take me away from the island, but they gave me no answer. Probably they were river thieves and the boat they had was stolen." CHAPTER XIV More Light and More Mystery The next two days, Saturday and Sunday, were devoted by the island prisoner to the sending out of further calls, for help, and these calls were met by a campaign of ridicule, similar to that begun by his nemesis on the first day of his imprisonment, according to the diary read by Hal to his companions. A few listeners-in indicated a willingness to come to his rescue, in spite of the plausible ridicule from anonymous source, but when asked where he was imprisoned, ignorance on that subject frustrated all good intentions along that line until his S O S reached Cub at the latter's home on the following Monday. "I tried to make this mysterious enemy of mine identify himself," wrote the diarist under Saturday date; "but he professed to have a wager posted against me which bound us both to secrecy. This caught me in the solar plexus of my conscience, for I was broadcasting my appeals for help under a false identity. Two or three amateurs looked me up under the name, call, and address that I gave and then broadcast a denunciation of me. It begins to look as if my hazers are going to win a full revenge for the way I laughed at them at college. This day's experience has convinced me that I am in bad throughout the radio atmosphere. It begins to look as if I am up against it and will have to stay here the full two weeks to which those hazing kidnappers of mine sentenced one. I wonder if they will make the term longer because I resorted to the method I have pursued thus far in order to avoid admitting that I had been hazed. Well, I have this consolation, anyway, that they have to pay for my food as long as I am here. They had to furnish me a tent also." "Caught half a dozen fish today and named this place Friday island because of the day, or night, I was brought here and my subsequent Robinson Crusoe experiences," began the entry for Monday. Then followed a gleeful memorandum of his apparent success in interesting Cub Perry with an account of his predicament, in spite of the efforts of his radio nemesis to prove him a trifler with the truth. Tuesday's entry closed with a notation of the announcement from Cub that the Catwhisker was about to start on a rescue trip from Oswego to the Lake of the Thousand Islands and would endeavor to find him by radio compass. "The situation is cleared up very much," Mr. Perry remarked after Hal had finished reading the diary. "The chief problem now remaining to be solved is, what became of your cousin?" "In other words, that's the mystery before us," said Bud, with a twinkle of fun in his eyes. "Call it what you will," smiled Mr. Perry. "But it doesn't strike me as in the least mysterious. Evidently he was taken away from this island by the fellows who put him here." "And what did they do with him?" was the query with which Cub supplemented his father's observation. "That, of course, we don't know," the latter replied. "They may have taken him over to the Canadian shore and released him for reasons of their own." "Then it's up to us to find out," Cub inferred. "Surely. We've had remarkable success thus far. It would be a pity for us to meet with failure. That would spoil our story." "Story!" exclaimed Bud. "What story?" "Our story--the one we've been enacting thus far. Look back over our experiences in the last two days and see if you can make anything but a very fascinating yarn out of them." "It's a radio-college story, isn't it?" Hal suggested. "Yes," Mr. Perry agreed; "that would be one good way to put it." "If it didn't involve my cousin in a critical situation, I'd hope the story wouldn't end yet," said Hal. "I'd like to see it run thirty or forty chapters." "How many chapters do you figure it would make thus far?" asked the director-general of the expedition with a look of keen interest. "Oh, about ten or fifteen," Hal replied. "Then, to suit your taste, it ought to be only about half finished." "Yes, but for my cousin's sake, I wish it were finished right now and Alvin were safe with us or at home." "But wishes won't produce results nor cut off chapters," Cub philosophised. "No, the denouement will work itself out along natural lines under natural laws," Mr. Perry predicted. "I don't think this story is going to amount to anything as a yarn," Cub announced with a look of superior wisdom. "Why not?" asked his father. "Because there's no villain in it. I never did like a story with a tame ending, and the worst kind of a story on earth is one that starts with a thrill and ends with a nap in a sunparlor." Laughter greeted this grotesque contrast. "I don't think you need expect any such up-shot in this affair," Mr. Perry advised. "Do you expect a villain to show his hand?" Bud inquired. "It seems to me that we have some villains in the plot already." "Who are they?" asked Hal. "How about those sophomores who kidnapped your cousin and marooned him here?" "Oh, they're only play villains," Cub put in disdainfully. "How do you know they wouldn't do something worse than haze freshmen?" "I don't; but until they do they're just play villains, and that doesn't interest me." "I see," Mr. Perry observed; "you want people to be either very good or very bad." "No," Cub returned slowly. "I wouldn't put it that way; I don't want anybody to be bad at all; but the fact of the matter is there are lots of good people in the world and a good many bad." "And to make a good story you think it is necessary to bring good people and bad people together, eh?" "Well, that's what makes fireworks, isn't it?" "Oh, ho, I get you now," said Mr. Perry. "You're fond of spectacular things." "No, I wouldn't put it that way," Cub replied; "but I don't like to see anybody make a bluff at anything and not make good. Now, we've started out with a glorious bluff at some very clever rascality, and it looks as if it's going to prove to be just an ordinary hazing affair." "It looks to me like a very extraordinary affair, whether it was hazing or not," returned his father. "And you think we'll find a villain if we investigate it to the end?" "Why, sure," Mr. Perry smiled. "I shouldn't be surprised if we'd find Captain Kidd's treasure buried on this island." "Now you're joking," Bud put in. "What kind of mathematics would you use to locate that treasure?" Hal inquired with a kind of jovial challenge. "Cube root," was the reply. "That means dig at the roots of a four-cornered tree and you'll find a box of pieces of eight shaped like a gambler's dice," Cub inferred. "That's pretty good imagination, and, I think ought to put us in a frame of mind well suited for further investigation," said Mr. Perry. "Now let's go to the spot where Hal found that diary of his cousin and see if we can't discover something more of significant interest." CHAPTER XV The Hook-Up on Shore Arrived at the open area where Hal had found his cousin's "Crusoe diary", the three boys and Mr. Perry began a careful examination of the surroundings for further evidence that might throw light on the strange affair, which, for the time at least, appeared to defy the mystery scoffer's "mathematics". First they scrutinized every foot of ground where the grass had been trampled so violently, it seemed, as to suggest a physical combat. But they were not sufficiently skilled in the arts and subtleties of the aborigines to work out the "code" of footprints and twists, tears, and breaks in the grass, twigs and foliage. So the result of the inspection of an apparently recent battle ground was nil. "I believe we've exhausted every possibility of a clew to the mystery in this spot," declared Cub at the end of half an hour's search. "Let's not waste any more time here." "What'll we do next, then?" asked Bud. "Go fishin'" Cub replied. "I think that's a good suggestion," said Mr. Perry. "We've concentrated our minds and efforts on this problem all day thus far, and a little relaxation probably will do us good." "Where's the best place to fish?" Hal inquired. "I think I know," Bud replied. "I found a place where we can climb down the bank to a dandy little beach while I was looking over my section of the island. A little spur of land runs out at that point, so as to form a small bay, and the water there is quiet and looks deep." They returned to the camp and got their fishing tackle and soon were casting baited hooks into the bay. Bud's prediction as to the hopeful appearance of this place, from an angler's point of view, proved well founded. In less than an hour they caught more fish than they could eat at supper and breakfast. After supper they formed a campfire circle in front of the tent--without a fire, however, for the normal heat of the atmosphere was all that comfort could demand--and held a further discussion of the situation and the problem with which they were confronted. "I don't know, boys, but we ought to make a trip somewhere in the Catwhisker and get police help to solve this problem," Mr. Perry remarked with a reflection of years and judgment in his countenance. "Hal's cousin may be in serious trouble, for all we know, and it's our duty to enlist every agency at our command to aid him." "But while we're gone something might develop here that would throw light on the mystery," said Bud. "Excuse me, Mr. Perry, for insisting on calling it a mystery. I can't think of it as anything else." "Oh, goodness me!" returned the one thus addressed. "I'm afraid you boys failed to get what I was driving at. I didn't mean there was no such thing as mystery. That depends on your point of view. It is only people who are easily startled or confused by unusual things who are easily mystified. I don't mean to say that it would be impossible to mystify me under any circumstances. For instance, if the man in the moon should suddenly jump down on the earth and give me a brick of green cheese, and then jump back again before I could say 'thank you' I presume I'd be greatly mystified." "Your illustration won't stand a test of reason, dad," Cub objected. "To test whether it is possible for you to be mystified you must offer a test that is possible." "That's precisely why I offered that impossible illustration," Mr. Perry smiled. "I wanted to see if any of you boys would catch the inconsistency. You just call this affair a mystery as long as you think it is one, but after it is cleared up, I fancy you'll have difficulty in looking back and picturing it as a mystery in your minds. But I didn't intend to take us off our subject. I was going to answer Bud's argument that something of importance might develop while we were gone. Yes, that is true, but it wouldn't be necessary for all of us to go. Two of us might make the trip and the other two remain here." "That's a good idea," declared Hal. "Suppose you and Cub go and leave Bud and me here to look after the camp and watch for developments?" Mr. Perry did not reply at once. Something new seemed to have slipped into his mind and appeared to be giving him some concern. "On second thought," he said after a few moments of silence; "I'm inclined to withdraw my suggestion." "What's up now, dad?" Cub inquired. "I was just recalling a portion of Hal's cousin's diary," his father replied. "According to that, it seems that rough characters visit this place sometimes." "Oh, we're not afraid," Hal protested. "Besides, you could make the trip there and back in a few hours." "Well, we'll think it over and decide in the morning what we'll do," said Mr. Perry. "Meanwhile, I tell you what we ought to do," Bud proposed. "It's an hour before dark and we'd have time to bring Hal's wireless outfit up here and hook it up before the sun sets." "That's a peach of an idea," declared Cub, jumping to his feet in his eagerness. "I've got two hundred and fifty feet of extra wire and some insulators on the boat and we can put up an aerial here without taking down the one on the Catwhisker. Then we can shift the radio outfit back and forth to the island and to the boat as we please." "Good!" exclaimed Hal. "I'm with you on that. Let's get busy and not waste a minute of daylight." They worked rapidly, and as they were well supplied with material and tools the progress made by them measured up to expectations. They fashioned a two-wire antenna with the spreaders left on the island by Hal's cousin; connected a lead-in to this, and then Cub and Bud climbed the two trees and, with the aid of ropes tied around their waists and the guiding assistance of their companions below, drew the "ether-wave feeler" up to a lofty elevation and fastened it as nearly taut as they could stretch and hold it. In this work they took due consideration of the professional objection to tree entanglements in aerials so that the insulators were well beyond the reach of the longest limbs. "It's a simple matter now to bring the outfit ashore and hook it up with the aerial," said Hal. "Let's do it." Enthused by the novelty of their enterprise, they continued the work, even though dusk was rapidly gathering. Several electric-battery flash-lights were produced, so that the twilight did not seriously hinder them. By the time the stars had become a billion glittering gems in the sky, the hook-up had been completed with Hal's sending and receiving set on a table that had been transported from the yacht to a convenient position directly under the aerial and near the opening of the tent. "Now, let's see what's going on in the air," said Cub. "Hal, you take the first whirl through the atmosphere." Hal sat down by the table and put a pair of phones to his ears. Then he began to tune. First there came to him a discordant confusion of static and other noises, including an admixture of "ham impudence". "W H Q's on," announced Hal presently, pushing over the horn switch, whereupon the clear tones of a quartet from the Rochester station was thrown with amplified resonance out upon the reamplifying atmosphere of a land-and-water wilderness. They "sat through" the program with a degree of enjoyment never before experienced by them under a radio spell. They could almost imagine themselves on an enchanted isle with a band of fairy songsters teasing harmonious echoes out of their surroundings. "My! I didn't suppose such weird beauty of sound could be produced under any possible conditions," exclaimed Mr. Perry at the close of the last number on the program. "Now the air will be free for all for a short time," said Hal, putting on the phones and throwing back the horn switch, while the other boys also donned their phones. "I'm going to see if I can get any of those fellows we talked with on the way up here." "Get that amateur with the radio compass who proved Mr. Perry's mathematical theory," suggested Bud. "All right I remember his call and wave length; so here goes." Hal tuned for several moments and sent the call of the Canadian amateur in question. Then suddenly he gave a little gasp of surprise. Only Mr. Perry felt a curiosity as to what it meant, for the other two boys knew as soon did the boy at the transmitting key. Someone was calling them and the call he gave as his own was the Canadian V A X. Then came the following message: "Have you not given it up yet, boys? I did not mean to carry the joke so far. Better go back home." Mr. Perry was waiting patiently for an explanation of the tense interest manifest in the attitudes of the three boys. Presently Cub gave it to him, thus: "We're on the trail again, dad. This fellow we've got is posing as Hal's cousin and he's advising us to go back home." CHAPTER XVI Running Down a Radio Fake "You say you are V A X?" dot-and-dashed Hal to the amateur who had thus represented himself. "Yes," was the reply. "What is your name?" "Alvin Baker." "Where do you live?" "At Port Hope." "Where are you now?" "On the river with some friends." "Have you any relatives in the United States?" "Yes." "Where do they live?" "In New York." "New York City?" "No--State." "What city?" "I have forgotten." "Is it Rochester?" "I do not know." "Is it Oswego?" "I am not certain." "Have you a cousin named Hal?" "Yes." "What is his last name?" "Baker." "Have you any relatives named Stone?" "I think so." "Is the name Hal Stone familiar to you?" "Never met the gentleman." "Then your name is not Alvin Baker?" "Maybe you know my name better than I do." "No, but I know just as well as you do that you are not Alvin Baker." "How do you know that?" "Because Alvin Baker is my cousin. I am Hal Stone, and I live in Oswego, New York." "I do not believe you. You are an impostor." "Let me tell you a secret. I have penetrated your plot. You are an enemy of my cousin. There was no wager between him and you, but you don't want us to find him. You had better keep out of the atmosphere or I will have you arrested on a charge of disorderly conduct in the air." No answer. "V A X, V A X, V A X," called Hal. Still no reply. "I cornered him, proved he was an impostor, and now he won't talk to me any more," said Hal, addressing his companions. Then he translated the code conversation, just completed, for the benefit of Mr. Perry. "Well, that disposes of him for the time being, at least," was the latter's comment. "But leaves a mystery as to his identity," put in Bud with a "mystery smile". "No, I don't think there's any question as to his identity." "Have you worked it out by mathematics, dad?" Cub inquired. "Yes, by sines and cosines." "What are sines and cosines?" asked Hal. "You'll find out when you go to college and study trigonometry," Mr. Perry replied. "Oh, I've seen those words," Cub answered, with some of his alleged characteristic "highbrow eagerness". "You spell sine, s-i-n-e, and cosine, c-o-s-i-n-e." "Exactly," smiled Mr. Perry. "Those are terms used in higher mathematics. But, in order that you youthful minds may not work too hard over my trick, I'll admit that in my mind I spelled sine s-i-g-n, and cosine, c-o-s-i-g-n." "No use to try to get ahead of my father," Cub declared, shaking his head. "He could prove that water runs uphill by mathematics. He means the signs and cosigns indicate that--. What do they indicate, dad? We got off the question just because you wanted to carry your point with a pun." "I meant to say that this fellow whom you cornered and chased out of the air is one of the fellows who hazed Hal's cousin by marooning him on this island," Mr. Perry answered. "Gee! that never occurred to me," exclaimed Cub, swinging his long arm with a snap of his finger like the crack of a whip. "I bet anything you're right." "We get one step nearer every time we make a move," said Bud eagerly. "Yes, but the question is, how many steps do we have to take before we settle this--this--mystery?" Cub demanded. "Don't look ahead so far," Mr. Perry warned. "Here's a rule in such matters that applies to all men--and boys--of small or large capability. Be careful never to look ahead so far you can't see the step you are in the act of taking." "All right," Cub assented. "What is the next step for us to take?" "Find out who the fellows are that hazed Hal's cousin." Bud replied. "Yes, that's a good suggestion, though it'll probably require several steps to gain that information. Still, you're not looking so far ahead, when you propose that move, as to be unable to see your first step." "Why not try to get in touch with some amateur in Cousin Alvin's home town by wireless?" Hal suggested. "That's the very thing I was in hope one of you would propose," Mr. Perry replied. "You boys haven't by any means exhausted the possibilities of your radio outfit." "We have no Canadian call book," said Hal, "but perhaps I can induce one of the amateurs we've been talking with to look up the call of one or more amateurs in Port Hope and give them to me." Without more ado, he swung the switch into sending position and began to call the amateur who had given them the information that had enabled them to locate Friday Island. Success rewarded his efforts almost immediately. The curiosity of the Rockport amateur, however, had to be satisfied before further service could be had from him. This Hal did with due patience and speed, reciting their experiences since their arrival at the island. Meanwhile the Canadian consulted his call book, and was ready with the desired information by the time his very excusable curiosity had been satisfied. He supplied Hal with two Port Hope calls, together with their wave lengths. Then began the task of getting into communication with the Port Hope amateurs. Hal sent the call of each of them a score or more of times, but got no answer from either. At last, however, another Port Hope amateur, who chanced to be listening in, answered for them. He informed Hal that the sending outfit of one of these Port Hope boys was out of working order and the other amateur was out of town. Then the operator on Friday Island put the following questions to him: "Do you know Alvin Baker?" "Yes," was the reply. "Is he at home?" Hal continued. "I think not. He is at college." "I am his cousin, Hal Stone, from Oswego, New York. I am with some friends on an island in the St. Lawrence River. I have learned that Alvin is in trouble. He was hazed by some sophomores, who left him alone on an island in the river. We found the island, but Alvin had been spirited away and is probably being held prisoner by them. This hazing gang seems to consist of some pretty rough characters. I want to get in touch with my uncle, Alvin's father." "I will call your uncle on the telephone and tell him what you say," the Port Hope amateur dot-and-dashed in reply. "Ask him to come over to your house, and tell him I will explain everything to him through you, and then perhaps he can form a plan for his son's rescue." These and subsequent proceedings, in furtherance of the plan outlined "over the wireless" by Hal, took considerable time, but at last the situation was made clear to Mr. Baker, who announced his intention to start on a search for his son at once. Meanwhile Bud and Cub listened-in eagerly and translated the code messages for Mr. Perry. "I tell you what we'll do," the latter said after the communication of events had been completed for the benefit of Mr. Baker. "Tell him to take a train to some river port, the nearest possible to this island, and we'll meet him with the motor boat." Hal did as requested, and presently Mr. Baker caused this message to be sent: "I will meet you at Rockport about noon to-morrow." "Step number one proved to be well worth while," observed Mr. Perry. "Now let's go to bed and in the morning we'll take step number two." CHAPTER XVII Bud's Discovery Next morning the day's program was discussed at the breakfast table, the latter being a light collapsible affair carried as an item of equipment of the Catwhisker. Hal introduced the subject by saying: "Mr. Perry, don't you think two of us ought to stay here while the other two of us make the trip to bring Uncle John over here?" "What's the use?" Mr. Perry returned. "Nobody's going to run away with the island." "No, but we've established a camp here, pitched a tent, and brought ashore a lot of camp material and supplies. If we all go we'll have to strike the tent and take all these things back on the boat." "Well, I don't know that it makes any particular difference to me," the owner of the yacht replied. "It'll be broad daylight and we'll be gone only a few hours. It isn't at all likely that anything will happen during that time." "I'll stay here with Hal, if he wants to stay," Bud volunteered. "That would be about the only way to arrange it," said Mr. Perry. "I don't like to have any of you boys make the trip without my being along, and as Cub knows the engine of the Catwhisker better than any other member of our party, I think I'd better take him with me." "That's the best arrangement," said Hal. "And while you're gone, Bud and I'll play Robinson Crusoe and Friday." "Who'll be Crusoe and who'll be Friday?" Cub inquired. "Oh, we won't quarrel about that," Bud replied. "Hal may have his choice and I'll take what's left." "This plan will simplify matters, to say the least," Mr. Perry announced. "About all we'll have to do when we decide to start is start." "You don't need to wash any dishes before you go," said Bud. "Friday'll do that." "There you go already," laughed Mr. Perry. "I predict a revolution on this island before we return." "No, nothing of the kind," Bud returned. "I was assuming that the lot of Friday would fall to me. In other words, I volunteer to wash the dishes." "I think you'll both have to be Fridays," Cub advised. "The real Crusoe of this place has disappeared and we don't want anybody usurping his honors in his absence. It is our duty to find him, reinstate him here, and then rescue him." "And make prisoners of the buccaneers who marooned him," suggested Mr. Perry. "Yes, and make them walk the plank," added Bud. "We're not exactly right in calling Hal's cousin a Robinson Crusoe, are we?" asked Cub reflectively. "You know Crusoe wasn't marooned; he was shipwrecked on his island." "Yes, but Crusoe was just a hero in fiction, you know," Mr. Perry replied. "Alexander Selkirk, the real Crusoe, was marooned on an island in the south Pacific." "Too bad he didn't have a wireless outfit," said Hal. "Well, boys, my portion of the breakfast is stowed away, and I must remind you that the moments are fleeting rapidly," announced the director of the expedition presently. "Cub, are you ready to start?" "All ready," the latter replied, rising from his chair and turning the "finish" of a cup of coffee down his throat. "I would suggest that you boys try to raise some amateur over in Rockport and probably you can stir up some local interest there in this affair," Mr. Perry suggested. "I'm always in favor of all the publicity that can be had in cases of rascality, and this looks to me like something more than a mere hazing." "Why, dad, I haven't heard you say anything like that before," said Cub, with a curiously inquiring look at his father. "What do you mean by that?" "I don't know," was the reply. "Maybe it's our remarks about Crusoe, buccaneers, marooning, and walking the plank that worked on my mind and set me to thinking about outlaws. I've just got a feeling that this affair isn't going to be explained along any play lines." "But Hal's cousin didn't have any suspicion that it was anything more than a hazing affair, according to his diary," Cub reminded. "I'm not so sure about that, either. You know he explained his distress messages by saying that he had been marooned by some river thieves or bandits." "But he said in his diary he didn't want to tell the truth," said Hal. "True, but he may have had a suspicion, nevertheless, that he felt was not tangible enough to incorporate in his diary. However, that will all be explained in due time, let us hope. Now, let's hurry. Good-bye, Hal, Bud. We'll be back as soon as possible." A few minutes later that Catwhisker was backing out of the narrow harbor with Cub and his father aboard and Bud and Hal on shore watching their departure. Presently the yacht was out of sight from their hemmed-in position, the view being obstructed by trees and tall bushes on an intervening isle, which constituted a link of the insular chain that surrounded Friday Island. "Now, let's wash the dishes," said Bud, turning back toward the camp. "I thought Friday was going to do that work," Hal reminded with a broad grin on his face. "Wasn't it ordered that both of us should be Fridays?" Bud demanded smartly. "You win," laughed Hal. "But here's a better way to handle the subject in view of another duty before us. You know we're supposed to try to get in touch with somebody by radio at Rockport and we haven't much time to spare before the Catwhisker arrives there. You get busy on the job and I'll take care of the dishes." "Not on your lightning switch," returned Bud emphatically. "I volunteered to be Friday, and I'm not going to slip out of my promise through your generosity. You get busy with the key and the phones and I'll get busy with the dishrag." As no reasonable argument could be adduced to defeat this proposition, the two boys were soon busy as prescribed by the last speaker. Bud's task required only about fifteen minutes, and after it was finished he rejoined his companion at the radio table. "Well, what luck?" he inquired. "Nothing doing," Hal replied. "I've managed to get the calls and waves of two amateurs at Rockport, but neither of them answers." "Keep it up anyway," Bud urged, "and I'll take a tackle and go over to the place where we took in our haul of fish yesterday, and see what I can do this morning. Call me if you get anything interesting." Hal promised to do as requested and then Bud hurried away. The former continued his efforts unsuccessfully with the sending key for nearly half an hour, hearing no sound from his friend in the meantime. Then he was about to take the receivers from his ears and go in search of the fisher-boy to find out what success he had had, when the latter appeared on the scene with a look in his face that startled the youth at the radio table. "What's the matter, Bud?" Hal inquired, as he literally tore the phones from his ears. "Has anything happened?" "Not exactly," the other replied. "But I've made a discovery that may mean trouble for us. At least, we'll have to be on the lookout from now on." "Why--what do you mean? Hurry up; don't keep me in suspense. What kind of discovery have you made?" "I've discovered that we're not the only persons on this island," was Bud's chilling response. CHAPTER XVIII Unwelcome Visitors "Why, Bud, what do you mean?" Hal demanded, in astonishment. "Who else is on this island?" "Some men. I don't know how many," Bud replied in cautious tone. "I heard them talking about us. But keep your voice low, for this island is small and they may hear you." "I was going to remark that this is a small island to contain much of a hiding place for anybody." "Yes, but it's wild with bushes. And these men are bad fellows, I could tell from the way they talked about us. They're as mad as hops 'cause we're here. They're studying how to get rid of us without making more trouble for themselves." "That's funny," Hal remarked. "Why should they care if we're here? Do they claim they own this island?" "I don't know whether they do or not. I didn't hear them say anything about that." "Where are they now?" "Over near our fishing place, if they haven't left. They were hidden in some bushes, and I might 'ave run right into them if it hadn't been for their voices. After I heard them I kept myself under cover and crept closer till I could get what they said." "Were you listening to them all the time you were gone?" "Just about." "And didn't you find out anything more specific than what you've told me?" "No, I don't think I did." "Why did you leave them?" "They seemed to 've talked the subject dry and turned to other matters, and I thought I'd better come and tell you about it." "And they're there yet?" "So far as I know." "After they'd talked their subject dry, what did they find to discuss?" asked Hal. "Something wet," Bud answered with a grin. "I get you; you mean they had some moonshine with them." "Or some Canadian whisky." "Probably that. But this makes the situation look a little better for us. If they're just a bunch of fellows out for a liquor outing, maybe we don't need to be much concerned about them if we keep shy of them." "I don't think that's all there is to it," Bud replied, with a note of warning in his voice. "I heard one of them say we were likely to make trouble for them and we ought to be chased away and scared so badly we'd never come around here again, and the others seemed to agree with him." "That sounds like a mystery," said Hal. "I don't believe Mr. Perry would talk mathematics to explain such conversation," Bud declared. "If he did, he'd probably make another pun about sines and cosines. But, say, don't you think we'd better make further investigation?" "I don't know what we could do unless we did some more eavesdropping, and that might cause them to get ugly if they caught us in the act," Bud reasoned. "Yes," Hal agreed; "I suppose we'd better wait as quietly as we can till Mr. Perry and Cub get back; then we can decide better what to do." "I don't see that there's anything for us to do but get away from here as soon as possible," said Bud. "Mr. Perry won't want to get into trouble with four men." "He'll probably have a talk with them to find out what's on their minds," was Hal's conclusion. "And then get out rather than have a fight," Bud added. "Oh, I hope there won't be anything as bad as that." "Why not, if we insist on staying? If these fellows are the rough characters we suspect them of being, that's the very sort of thing they'd resort to, provided, of course, that they thought they could get the best of us." "Here they come now!" suddenly gasped Hal, indicating, with his gaze, the direction from which "they" were approaching. Bud turned quickly and saw four men emerge from the thicket some fifteen feet to the rear of the tent. They did not look like rowdies, for they were fairly well dressed, but there was nothing reassuring in the countenance of any of them. One was tall and angular, another was heavy and of medium height, another was very broad-shouldered and deep-chested and had long arms and short legs, a sort of powerful monstrosity, he seemed, and the fourth was fairly well proportioned, but small. There was not a reassuring cast of countenance among them. "We'll just have to stand our ground and hear what they have to say," Hal whispered: "Maybe they'll be reasonable if we don't provoke them. Be careful and don't say anything sassy." "I won't," was the other's reassurance. The four men approached to a point a few feet from the radio table and halted, and the tall angular man, assuming the role of spokesman, demanded in deep tones: "What're you kids doin' here?" "We're just waiting for some of our friends to come back," Hal replied. "Where'd your friends go?" continued the spokesman with a leer that caused the two boys to shrink back a step or two. "They just took a trip in the motor boat," replied Hal cautiously. "They'll be back soon." "Oh, they will, eh," leered the man as if he penetrated the weakness of the warning in the boy's answer. "How many are they of your friends?" "More than we are," replied Hal, having reference to physical size of Mr. Perry and Cub. "Oh, come now, kids, tell us the truth," ordered the leering spokesman, advancing a pace nearer. "Tell us how many went away in your boat and how soon they'll be back." "There was a large man and a big boy," Bud interposed with more assurance that he felt. Sly grins crept over the countenances of the four men. "Oh," grunted the spokesman; "you hope by that kind o' talk to scare us away. Well, nothin' doing along that line. This here island belongs to us, and we don't allow no trespassin." "Is the island for sale?" inquired Hal, who thought he saw an opening through which he might work up the interest of the three men without arousing their antagonism. "Fer sale?" repeated the spokesman of the quartet, all four of whom seemed to exchange among themselves a round of sinister glances. "Well, I guess nit. They ain't enough money this side o' the United States treasury to buy this island from us." "We might be able to scrape up a handsome sum, if necessary," Hal reasoned. A suggestion of covetous greed shone in the eyes of all four men, but the spokesman belied his own looks by saying: "Nothin' doing. We want you guys to git out o' here. This is our summer resort, eh, Spike"--turning to the long-armed, deep chested man. "Spike" nodded grimly and replied: "You bet it is, cap'n. We're gen'lemen of leisure an' don't care fer money. All we want is our own, and they's sure to be trouble if anybody tries to take it away from us." "Well, we don't want anything that doesn't belong to us," was Bud's reassuring answer; "and if this island is yours, we surely don't want to stay here. But we thought that maybe you'd be glad to sell, for a member of our party said he'd like to buy all of the islands of this group if he could find the owner." "Who is he?" asked the quartet's spokesman. "His name is Perry and he lives at Oswego, New York," Bud replied. "Well, you all go somewheres else to talk that matter over and then take it up with my real estate agent. Meanwhile I don't allow no trespassers on this ground." "But we can't go until our friends come back with their boat," said Hal. "They promised to return soon." "Where did they go?" "To the Canadian Coast." "What fer?" "To get another friend who will join us." "Well, they'd better hurry up or they won't find you when they get back." "What's that you got there?" asked the man who had been addressed as "Spike", indicating the radio table and outfit thereon. "That's a wireless outfit, you goof," replied the tall, angular spokesman. "I tell you what we'll do," Hal announced, taking inspiration from the attention thus called to his radio apparatus. "We'll call our friends by wireless and have them return at once and take us away. How's that?" "All right," was the assenting response. "Go ahead, but be careful, no tricks, or our revenge will be speedy, and that's no name fer it." With this warning the four men walked away and Hall got busy with a diligence inspired by a sense of danger and, at the same time, a sense of the opportunity afforded by the possibilities of the world's latest great invention, radio. CHAPTER XIX "S O S" from Friday Island Max Handy, the Canadian youth at Rockport, who gave the crew of the Catwhisker, by wireless, directions whereby the latter were able to locate "mathematically" the whereabouts of the "Canadian Crusoe's Friday Island" listened in much of the time thereafter, in the hope of being able to keep in touch with developments to the end of this interesting radio affair. And this hope was realized in a degree that could hardly have been expected with moderation. But he was well equipped, and, being mechanically inclined, and industrious, he was able to get a maximum of results with his sending and receiving outfit. He had traced the rescue yacht all the way from Oswego to Friday Island, and the last message he had picked up from the three young radio Americans was the one that completed the agreement under which the yacht was to proceed to Rockport next day and meet the father of the "missing Crusoe". Then he attempted to get in communication with the island operator, but Mr. Perry had just announced that the next number on the program would be "everybody to bed at once", and there was no more listening-in before the next morning. Max stayed up late that night, with phones to his ears, eager to get another message from the island, and he was a very much disappointed enthusiast when at last he gave up his efforts, convinced that they were useless. He slept late next morning and consequently lost an opportunity to respond to Hal's first call to enlist the aid of the Rockport amateurs in the campaign to rescue the missing "Crusoe". But at last he caught a message from the island, and the conversation, translated from code, that took place between him and Hal, following a few introductory inconsequentials, was as follows: "I listened-in last night and heard your arrangements for today," the Canadian dot-and-dashed. "When are you coming to Rockport?" "Two of us are on the way," Hal replied. "They ought to be there by this time." "Is there anything I can do to help you?" "Yes. Can you go to the dock and ask them to hurry back? There are four ugly acting men here on the island, who have ordered us off. They threatened to make trouble for us if we do not go soon." "Don't your friends know those men are there?" "No; we discovered them after the boat left." "All right, I will run down to the dock and tell them." Max literally kept his promise relative to his manner of travel. He ran all the way to the dock, half a mile. The Catwhisker was there, tied fast with cables, but nobody was on board. "They've gone to the depot," he concluded; then he turned his steps toward the railroad station. He ran and walked alternately, with a dozen changes of speed, and arrived just as the train from the west was pulling in. He had no difficulty in identifying Mr. Perry and Cub when they introduced themselves to Mr. Baker, as the latter stepped from a coach, and a moment later he was addressing the owner of the Catwhisker thus: "Is this Mr. Perry of Oswego, New York?" The latter turned quickly and beheld a youth about the age of his own son, but of considerably shorter stature. "It is," he replied somewhat apprehensively, in view of recent stirring events and the logical probability of more of the same sort. "Well, I have something important to tell you," Max continued. "I'm the boy who gave you the radio compass information that made it possible for you to find Friday Island." "Gee! I'm glad to meet you," exclaimed Cub, seizing the Canadian youth by the hand and forgetting, in his eagerness, the announcement from the "radio compass detective" that he had "something important" to communicate. But the latter, although equally pleased to meet the young amateur from the States, was on his guard against a delay of this sort and soon broke through the effusion of cordiality with which Cub greeted him and continued his communication thus: "I was just telegraphing with one of the boys on the island, and he told me to tell you to hurry back. There are four men on the island who ordered them away and threatened to make trouble for them if they didn't get away soon." "What's that!" exclaimed Mr. Perry, seizing the youth by the arms. "You say you got that kind of message from those boys?" "Sure I did," the boy replied; "and they want you to hurry back." "What kind of men are they--rough characters, bad men?" "That's what I understood him to mean." "Come on, Mr. Baker, Bob; we must hustle along. Thank you, my boy; you'll hear from me again." "I'll hurry back and tell the boys I found you and you're on your way," shouted Max as he ran down the street toward home. Mr. Perry led the way toward the dock at a rapid pace. Presently they found themselves in front of a hardware store, and the owner of the Catwhisker stopped and said: "I'm going in here a minute." He entered, and Mr. Baker and Cub followed, wondering a little as to the motive of the boy's father. But they were not long left in doubt. "Have you any fire-arms on sale here?" Mr. Perry asked, addressing the proprietor. "Small or large?" the latter inquired. "Small." "Right this way." He stepped behind a show case in which was a display of automatics and revolvers. Mr. Perry selected one of the former and a box of cartridges and took out his pocketbook to pay for them. "I believe I'll take one, too," interposed Mr. Baker, also producing a purse. The storekeeper looked somewhat curiously at the two men. "I'm supposed to exercise care and judgment in selling these weapons," he remarked slowly. "Of course, of course," returned Mr. Perry. "The situation is this: We belong to a yacht on the river and have run up against some bad characters. I am the owner of the yacht and have decided that we need protection." "Sure, sure, that's perfectly satisfactory," said the hardware man. "You can buy out my whole arsenal on that explanation." "We won't need it," Mr. Perry smiled. "These two guns are enough." The purchase completed, the two men and the boy left the store and hastened on toward the municipal docks. Meanwhile Max arrived at his home and went direct to his radio room. There the first thing he did was to don his phones, and the result was instantly startling. He had left the instrument tuned to the Friday Island wave length and the aerial switch in receiving position. "S O S, S O S, S O S," crashed into his ears in rapid, energetic, excited succession, it seemed to his susceptible imagination. Quickly he threw over the switch, and called for an explanation. It came as follows: "Those men have seized my friend, and now are coming after me. S O S, S O--" That was all--not another dot or dash. Desperately Max appealed for further details, but it was like calling for life in a cemetery. The ether was dead, so far as Friday Island was concerned. CHAPTER XX Four Prisoners When the Catwhisker arrived at Friday Island again, the place appeared to be deserted. The camp was as they had left it, except that the breakfast dishes were washed and put away. "Friday" had performed his duty, but both boys had disappeared, and there seemed to be only one explanation of their disappearance, namely, the premonition of danger at the hands of the four strange men that the Rockport amateur, Max, had received from the boys on the island. No damage had been done to the tent or any of the camp paraphernalia, even the radio outfit being exactly as it had been when they left it in charge of Hal and Bud a few hours previously. "This is getting pretty serious," Mr. Perry said, after they had made an unsatisfactory review of the situation. "I confess I don't know what to make of it." Cub felt an impulse to brand this new affair as the most puzzling mystery that had yet confronted them, but he checked the utterance wisely enough as entirely too facetious for the occasion. "We've got to get the authorities busy on this case," Mr. Perry added after a few moments' hesitation. "We may be sure now that it's more than a hazing affair. There must be a retreat of some bad men around here somewhere." "What authorities shall we ask to help us?" Cub inquired. His father seemed about to answer, but he hesitated a moment or two, with a puzzled look, first at his son, then at Mr. Baker. "That's so," he said presently. "Where are we--in Canada or the United States?" "I think we ought to apply for help in both New York and Ontario," said Mr. Baker, who was ordinarily a man of quiet demeanor, but now was worked up to a state of nervous worry over the fate of his son. "It's going to take some time to make trips to both sides of the river and get the authorities of New York and Ontario busy," said Mr. Perry; "but I suppose that's the only thing to do, and every minute wasted is an opportunity lost. So let's go right away." "Hold on, father," Cub interrupted; "you forget that we have a means of calling help right here." "It won't do to depend on your radio messages" his father replied. "You know the experience Mr. Baker's son had trying to get help that way." "Yes, but there were conditions that queered his calls," Cub replied. "Just remember the results we got by calling our new friend, Max, at Rockport, and what he did for us. Unless I'm badly mistaken, we can look for more help from him." "Yes, you're right, Bob," Mr. Perry admitted. "But I don't like the idea of staying here and depending on a few boys to take care of so big a proposition. We need to arouse the whole country around here, including all people along the shores, on the islands and those boating up and down the river." "In other words, there must be some real broadcasting," Cub interpreted. "You bet you, and more than any amateur radio station in the country can do. Now, we've wasted too much time already. Come on; we've got to get started without any more delay." "But let me stay and see what I can do while you're gone," Cub pleaded. "I bet I can have a police boat headed this way before you reach the mainland." "No, nothing doing," his father ruled unwaveringly. "You'd disappear just the way the other boys did. We can't afford to run any more such risks." "I'd be safe enough if you let me have that automatic o' yours, dad," Cub argued, "No, sir-ree; I'm not going to leave you here alone to fight any gun battle with a band of bandits." But the boy was still undismayed by his father's resoluteness. He had one more proposal to offer, and he presented it thus: "You don't need to leave me here alone, dad. Mr. Baker may stay; you can run the Catwhisker alone." Both men had started toward the landing place, expecting the boy to follow, but they stopped suddenly and faced about on hearing this new proposition. Mr. Baker looked almost eagerly at Mr. Perry, it seemed, and, observing that the latter's unyielding attitude had softened somewhat, he said: "That's agreeable to me if it is to you." "Well," returned Mr. Perry with slow deliberation, "that sounds pretty good. If it suits you both, it suits me. I don't think you'll have to use the guns, even if any bad actors do happen around. If you show them, that'll probably be enough. Do you know how to handle an automatic, Bob?" "Sure I do," the latter replied. "All you have to do is keep the nose pointed away from you and toward the target you want to hit. To shoot, you just keep pulling the trigger, and when it's empty you're safe from accident until you fill the chamber again." "That's a simple statement of facts," Mr. Perry smiled; "but you left out the most important of all, and until you tell me what that is, I'm not going to let you have it." "Oh, I know what it is; you've told it to me lots of times," Cub replied with eager alertness. "You know, dad, I always remembered what you told me, and I didn't forget that advice of yours about fire-arms. It is, 'always handle an unloaded gun as if you know it's loaded.' I promise you, dad, I'll not forget it this time." "I guess it's safe to let you have it," said Mr. Perry, handing over the weapon. "All right, now that everything's settled, I'll be gone and you two see what you can do through the air." That ended the discussion, and a few minutes later the owner of the Catwhisker was putting all the speed he could put into the power boat toward the Canadian shore, while Cub devoted all his energy and skill to the task of summoning as much aid as possible by wireless, Mr. Baker standing by and waiting eagerly for results. And results were not long coming. The yacht was scarcely out of sight beyond the outer rim of islands, when Cub recognized the call of Max Handy, the Canadian amateur at Rockport. He acknowledged the call, and then telegraphed the following: "I am the boy whom you met at the depot a few hours ago. When we got back, we found the two boys we left here were gone." "I knew something had happened," Max replied. "After I left you I got their S O S. Then one of them telegraphed that some men had seized his friend and were coming after him. His last message was broken off in the midst of a new S O S. I couldn't get him again, I called up the police and they said they would see it got to the proper authorities for investigation." Cub translated this message for the benefit of Mr. Baker and was about to continue the telegraphic conversation when four men, armed with clubs, and with anything but friendly demeanor, appeared on the scene. Mr. Baker saw them first and sounded the alarm. "Here they come," he said in low tone, the accents of which caused Cub to start to his feet and reach for his father's pistol which he had laid on the radio table. "Be careful," the man continued. "Don't shoot unless I do. Maybe we can get some information from those fellows. Put your gun in your pocket and don't draw it unless they attack us or you see me draw mine." The movement of Cub, transferring the automatic from the table to the right pocket of his coat, did not escape the notice of the visitors, who appeared to have come from the wooded depths of the island. But evidently their uncertain vision left their minds in a condition of doubt as to the significance of the act, for they continued to advance, however, with some appearance of caution. "I'll go forward a few steps to meet them," said Mr. Baker, in a low voice to Cub. "You stay back here and be careful with your gun. Don't use it unless you see me use mine; then keep your head. I think we'll be able to handle this situation without any violence." He advanced half a dozen paces, then stopped and addressed the unwelcome visitors, who were now distant from him only about fifteen feet. "Halt where you are, gentlemen," he said. "We are armed, and any further advance on your part will be met with the use of our weapons." The "gentlemen" stopped with due consideration for the warning, but with scowls that indicated the poor grace of their obedience. A description of them would mark them as the ones who are heretofore recorded as having made an unfriendly call on Hal and Bud at the island camp earlier in the day. The tall, angular man again was spokesman for them. "What're you fellers doin' on our island?" he demanded, with a deepening of his scowl. "I didn't know the island belonged to you," Mr. Baker returned quietly. "You don't happen to carry a deed to it in your pocket, do you?" "No, but it's ours, or it belongs to one of us," the angry spokesman replied. "And we don't intend to allow any trespassing." "We have no desire to do any trespassing," was the response to this veiled threat. "But I want to answer you with a clear statement of our position. We are here with a purpose and we don't intend to be turned aside from that purpose. To get down to brass tacks, three boys, one of them my son, have disappeared under remarkable circumstances from this island, and the indications point directly toward you men as responsible for their disappearance. What your motive is I have no idea, but you may be sure that it will be fathomed, and now that we have you in our power, we don't intend to let you get away from us. We are armed with automatic pistols that shoot like machine guns and one move either toward or from us, contrary to order, will start them barking. Now, my instruction to you is that you drop those clubs and come forward, one at a time, and allow my companion to search you for weapons." As he spoke, Mr. Baker drew his pistol from one of his trouser pockets, and Cub did likewise. Instantly the scowls disappeared from the faces of the four men and were succeeded by looks suggestive of panic. "There's no need of any such action by you," said the leader of the invaders with plaintive whine. "We ain't done nothin' out o' the way. We did drive those kids off o' the island, but we didn't hurt 'em. They're all right, and we c'n take you to 'em any time you want to go." "How could you drive them off of here when they had no boat to go in?" Mr. Baker demanded. "Oh, we took 'em in our boat and put 'em on another island. If you'll agree to go away from here we'll produce those boys and land you anywhere you want to go." "Why is it you're so anxious to have us go?" demanded Mr. Baker. "Is there something going on here that you don't want the authorities to know anything about?" This shot seemed to throw confusion into the ranks of the visitors, judging from the expressions of their countenances. But their spokesman attempted to brush the inference aside as of no consequence to them by answering: "That's foolish. If you think there's anything bad going on here, just bring on the police and investigate; but we don't intend to have anybody on these islands who hasn't any right here." "Very well, we'll make a test of the question of rights so there won't be any dispute about it hereafter," said Mr. Baker. "Robert, will you call your friend at Rockport and tell him to send some officers here for four prisoners, but keep your weather eye on these fellows meanwhile and your pistol beside you ready for instant use." Cub did as directed and soon was dot-and-dashing a thrilling message to Max Handy, who had been waiting apprehensively all this time for an explanation of the island operator's protracted silence. CHAPTER XXI The Hostage Meanwhile the four prisoners held a furtive conference among themselves, and after Cub had finished his telegraphic conversation with the Canadian amateur, the leader of the worthy quartet addressed Mr. Baker as follows: "Looky here, Mister man, we've decided that we're not going to stay here any longer. You ain't got nothin' on us, and you haven't got any reason to hold us up with those guns. We haven't done nothin' criminal, and we don't intend to be held for crim'nals. We'll tell you where your kids are and ev'rything'll be all right if you keep off o' our islands. We own all these islands here, and we're not goin' to 'low no trespassin'." "The main trouble with your proposition is that we have no way of knowing whether you're telling the truth," answered Mr. Baker. "Can you tell us where the boys are and then prove that they're there before we let you go?" "We c'n tell you where they are and you must take our word fer it," was the fellow's reply. "They're over on the first island in that direction, pointing to the southwest. You can't miss it. It's an island about the same size as this one, all by itself. You'll find 'em there if somebody hasn't taken 'em off." "No, that won't do," replied Mr. Baker. "We can't afford to let you go." "All right, then, let me tell you something more," said the spokesman of the strange quartet, whose self-confidence and courage seemed to be on the increase. "Do you see that stake there?"--indicating the visible end of a piece of wood similar to a guy-rope stake, that had been driven into the ground at a point midway between the two hostile conferees. "I see it very plainly," Mr. Baker replied. "Do you know what it means?" "I must confess my ignorance." "Well, I have a surprise for you. There are other stakes driven about a hundred feet apart clear across this island east and west. That is the dividing line between the United States and Canada. You are a Canadian, ain't you?" "I am." "Well, that line there means that you are now in Canada and we are in the United States. If you come over here to take us you are invading the United States. If you shoot at us, you are shooting across the border line at citizens of the United States. I defy you to commit any such act." Mr. Baker was "almost taken off his feet" by the shrewdness of this argument, and for several moments he was unable to make any intelligent reply. Cub also was nonplused at the "international situation". However, the ludicrous element of the affair did not escape them, and presently Mr. Baker was hurling the following heated rejoinder at the spokesman of the unfriendly four: "Now, see here, my fine fellow, I'm not going to listen to this nonsense any longer. My son has been kidnapped by you scoundrels, and I am a desperate man right now. I am in a mood at this moment to snap my fingers at international lines, if what you say is the truth. I don't care to dispute your word on so flimsy a subject. But here is the only compromise I am willing to make with you. One of you has got to stay here a prisoner until those boys are returned to us. I'm in dead earnest, believe me. If you try to escape, I'll shoot, and if necessary, I'll shoot to kill. Now you come right over here into Canada as quick as ever you know how, for if you don't, in a very few seconds I'm going to begin to shoot. I'm a good shot and my bullets will hit your feet first. Your companions may go and as soon as they bring back those three missing boys you may go, too. Now, come along into Canada. Hurry up, I'm going to count ten, and if you're still over there in the United States contaminating the soil and atmosphere of Uncle Sam with your impudence after I've stopped counting, I'm going to begin to shoot. If I have to bring you over into Canada, you'll come on a stretcher--see? Now I'll begin to count--one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight--" The brave spokesman of the unwelcome visitors collapsed at Number 8 and shuffled rapidly toward the counter with the automatic pistol. His three companions, inspired, no doubt, with an eagerness commensurate with his panic, broke into a run and soon disappeared in the thicket at the rear of the camp. "You'd better call after your friends and remind them that it's up to them to bring those boys back or your fate hangs by a thread," Mr. Baker advised as he proceeded to examine the fellow's pockets for dangerous weapons. But the prisoner was either too sullen or too much frightened to respond to any suggestion requiring the exercise of wits. He merely obeyed clear-cut orders and turned a deaf ear to all other utterances on the part of his captors. "We'd better secure him so that there'll be no chance of his getting away," Cub suggested. "There are some pieces of guy-rope in the tent. I'll get them and we'll fix him in a condition of safety." Accordingly he went into the tent and a moment later reappeared with two pieces of rope, the strands of which he unplaited and knotted together, end to end, and then tested the knots by straining them across his knee. "Now, we're ready," he said, addressing the prisoner. "Turn around and put your hands together behind you. There, that's right. I'll try not to be too cruel, but I must tie this rope pretty tight. Holler if it tortures you, but I must be the judge as to whether you can stand it. There, you won't be able to do any mischief with your hands. Now, come on; well go into the tent and take care of your lower extremities, as you know we couldn't afford to let you walk away. We have to hold you for ransom, you know, and the ransom is three healthy, uninjured boys." The prisoner obeyed without a word, and a few moments later he was tied on the ground in the tent with legs also securely bound. "Now, I'll proceed to report developments to our radio friend at Rockport," Cub announced as he and Mr. Baker came out in the open again. With these words he sat down at the table, donned the phone headpiece and began to work the key. He had no difficulty in getting into communication with the Canadian amateur again, and gave him a detailed account of what had taken place since his last report of earlier developments. "My father is on the way alone in the Catwhisker, bound for Rockport," the boy added after finishing his account of the dispute with the professed owners of the island. "Can you get word to him of what has happened? Tell him to come back with a few armed men as soon as possible." "I will run down to the docks and meet him," returned Max. "Maybe I will come along." That ended their code conversation for the time being, and Max started at a brisk pace for the municipal docks. Meanwhile, Mr. Baker and Cub kept an alert watch over their prisoner and the camp in general to guard against a surprise, for they were not unmindful of the danger of an attempt on the part of the three departed visitors to overthrow the advantage the man and the boy had gained through the instrumentality of two dangerous weapons. But soon they found time dragging heavily on their hands, so that it is no wonder that before long they began to cast about them for something to do that would add to the small degree of hopefulness of their situation. "Let's bring that fellow out here and see what we can get out of him," Cub proposed at last. "Maybe we can induce him to tell us something," "All right," Mr. Baker replied; "but we must not forget to keep a sharp lookout while we're quizzing him." "You go in and bring him out, and I'll keep watch to prevent a surprise," Cub proposed. This being agreeable to Mr. Baker, the plan was soon put into effect. The rope strands around the prisoner's ankles were removed and he was led out into the open. True to his resolve not to be caught napping, Cub now kept on the move and on the alert, describing a small circle around the position of the two men who were seated on camp chairs about twenty feet from the tent. "I've brought you out here for a sociable chat," Mr. Baker explained, while Cub gave close attention in order that he might not lose a word. "I hope you'll be as sociable as I shall try to be, for if you're not, I shall have to take you back into the tent and shackle your feet again." The fellow did not reply, although his silence could hardly be attributed to a spirit of sullenness. "Maybe you'll tell me a little more than you were willing to tell me in the presence of your friends," Mr. Baker continued. "I'd like to know something about the business and associations of you and your friends, so that we may know how to treat your demands. Now, rest assured that none of us has any desire to do any illegal trespassing, and as soon as you've proved to us that you own this island and that we are unwelcome on these premises, we'll get off and beg your pardon for our intrusion. But you don't seem to have established any camp here and you don't seem to be able to produce as much evidence of ownership as we can." Mr. Baker now waited a few moments for a response to his introductory statement, but none came. The fellow seemed to be almost embarrassed by the straightforward and well connected ideas of the man who addressed him. "Well, let's see," Mr. Baker continued. "How can I present the matter so as to start you out right? Perhaps you will be willing to tell me who you are and what your business is. But first. I'll be fair and introduce myself. My Name is James C. Baker. I live in Port Hope, and my business is that of hay, grain and feed merchant. Now, will you tell me your name? One of your friends called you Captain. Do you run a boat on the river?" Whether the fellow was about to reply or would continue in stubborn silence may not be known, for the thus-far-one-sided conversation was suddenly interrupted by a shout of eager joy from the pacing boy sentinel. "Oh, there they come, there they come," the latter shouted. "There are Hal and Bud." Sure enough, two boys had just emerged from the narrow belt of bushes between the camp area and the only practical landing place of the island. CHAPTER XXII The "Crusoe Mystery" Deepens "Now, where have you boys been? Did those men take you away? Where did they take you? Did you escape? How did you escape?" This rapid-fire succession of questions was hurled by Cub at Hal and Bud as they approached the place where Mr. Baker was quizzing his prisoner under the protection of the boy sentinel against a surprise attack from the prisoner's friends. Some of these questions were encouraged by nods and smiles of assent to preceding interrogatories. "Yes, yes, but one question at a time," Hal replied. "You're on the right track, Cub, but that isn't the way to get our story out of us. I see you have one of the rascals a prisoner. Keep him. He's the worst of the bunch." The "rascal" winced at the characterization. "Who are they, anyway," asked Cub. "What are they doing here? Do they own this island?" "Now, you've added three more questions," Hal remarked with a smile, for he was much pleased at the opportunity to tease the tall and usually super-wise youth in something of the latter's characteristic manner. "We can't answer all your questions, Cub, but we know there's a mystery about this fellow and his friends, and I suppose we'll have to wait for your father's mathematics to solve it." "Was it those four men who made prisoners of you?" inquired Cub, who, in his eagerness to get some definite information, resolved to ask one question at a time and pursue his inquiry in an orderly manner. "Yes," Hal replied. "They grabbed me first while I was down at the landing," put in Bud, who was almost as impatient to tell the story as Cub was to hear it. "I went down there when I saw a rowboat pulling up and didn't recognize the men in it until they came ashore. I thought they were still on the island, for when they left us a few hours before, they didn't go toward the landing, and we didn't see them go toward it since then. I hollered when they grabbed me, and Hal came rushing to see what was the matter." "Yes, and then I ran back to the radio table and telegraphed to Max Handy at Rockport," added Hal, taking up the narrative at this point and indicating a disposition to volunteer details more readily. "While I was still in the act of sending, two of the them appeared and seized me. They took me into their rowboat with Bud at the landing and rowed to a yacht almost a duplicate of Mr. Perry's. We were confined in the cabin until after dark and then put ashore on an island half a mile from here. That was the last we saw of them." "But how did you get away?" asked Cub. "We flagged a motor boat just a little while ago. There were two men and two boys in it. We told them our story and they volunteered to bring us back here and see if you had returned. Hello, Uncle James," addressing Mr. Baker and seizing the latter by the hand. "I didn't recognize you at first, though I knew you were coming." "Where is Alvin?" asked Mr. Baker anxiously. "Didn't you see him on the island over there?" "No," Hal replied with a look and tone of surprise. "That is another desert island--not a person there." "What does that mean?" demanded Mr. Baker, turning to the prisoner. "You told us all three of the boys that you took away from here were together on that island over there." "I didn't mean that," the fellow snarled, with something of a look of confusion, however. "Well, what did you mean?" "I meant they were on two islands not far apart; the other fellow is on the island a little further on." "Is that motor boat that brought you here down at the landing yet?" Mr. Baker inquired. "Yes," Bud replied. "I wonder if we couldn't induce them to make a run over to the island where this fellow says he left my son and bring him here." "I think they'd be glad to do it," Bud replied. "They seemed to be very much interested in this affair and offered to do anything they could to help us." "All right; suppose you go down there and tell them the situation. I suppose we could wait till Mr. Perry gets back, but I can't stand any delay that isn't absolutely necessary." "Why, where has your father gone, Cub?" asked Hal. "He started out to get police help," answered the boy addressed. "His first call was to be at Rockport, but no doubt he'll come right back here when he gets the message I sent for him. I telegraphed to our wireless friend, Max Handy, and asked him to go down to the docks and tell father what happened since he left. He's on the way now; maybe he's talking to father this minute." "What was it that happened?" Bud inquired. Cub gave a description of the visit of the four "owners" of Friday Island and the dispute that resulted in making a prisoner of one of them and sending the other three away on a mission of restitution. "I thought when I just saw you come up from the landing that they had released you according to agreement," he added; "but on second thought, I decided they couldn't have had time to do that; besides, when they left us they went in the other direction." "No, they didn't have anything to do with it," Hal assured his friend. "You'd better tell the truth about where my son is," warned Mr. Baker, addressing the prisoner. "I won't stand any more trifling from you." "He's there unless somebody took him off the island, same as these boys were taken off the island we put them on," declared "the captain" in sullen tone and manner. "Well, it'll be an unhappy circumstance for you if we don't find any evidence of their having been there," Mr. Baker remarked. "I think we'd better take him along with us," said Hal. "Then there'll be no doubt about our going to the right island. Come on, Bud; let's go down to the boat and tell Mr. Leland and Mr. White what we want to do." Hal and Bud were soon out of sight on their way to perform the mission they had imposed on themselves, and a few minutes later they returned with one of the motor-boatmen, a clean-cut athletic man of middle age, wearing a tan Palm Beach suit. Hal introduced him as Mr. White. "The boys have told us all about your trouble," he said, addressing Mr. Baker; "and we'd like to do all we can to help you out. They tell me that your son is believed to be on an island about a mile from here, and that this prisoner of yours knows exactly where that island is. Well take him along with us and make him make good." "I'm very much obliged to you," said Mr. Baker warmly. "I've promised this fellow that if he returns my son to me, I'll let him go, so the instant you find my son you may turn him loose." "I don't believe he ought to be turned loose," declared Mr. White energetically. "I believe he ought to be made to pay the penalty of his crime--kidnapping. However, we'll do as you say. Come along, my fine fellow," he added, taking the prisoner by the arm. "We'll keep those hands of yours securely tied behind your back, so you can't get into mischief." With these words, he led "the captain" toward the landing, followed by Hal and Bud. Half an hour later they returned, with the prisoner, his hands still shackled with the rope strands. They had been unable to find Mr. Baker's son on the island where the prisoner said he and his companions had left him. Meanwhile Mr. Perry had returned in the Catwhisker to Friday Island. He was accompanied by Max Handy and a Canadian government officer. CHAPTER XXIII "Sweating" the Prisoner It was now supper time, but nobody except the Canadian officer was hungry enough to think of eating. The latter, being a disinterested party, save as one commissioned with the duty of enforcing the law, had not diverted to a subject of absorbing interest the energies that ordinarily create a human appetite, hence he was normally hungry. Moreover, he was a man of good physical proportions and organic development, and consequently hunger with him meant a good plateful, or dissatisfaction. This officer, who was introduced by Mr. Perry as Mr. Harrison Buckley, seemed to take no interest in his mission until he saw the evening meal in course of preparation in real kitchen-like manner; then he took the prisoner in charge and proceeded to "sweat" him in the approved style of a police captain's private office. The prisoner squirmed about for a time, successfully evading the inquisitorial probe aimed at him, but at last he "confessed" as to his name and address. He said that his name was Grant Howard and that his residence was at Gananoque, Ontario. Then a call to supper was issued and the composite aggregation of humans gathered around the table, which was never intended to accommodate quite so many guests. However, with the exercise of due ingenuity, the supper was properly disposed of with the unexpected discovery of more appetite than was originally expected. Max Handy proved to be a healthy eater and the savory smell of juicy broiled steak from the Catwhisker's refrigerator, loosened even the nervous tension of Mr. Baker's worry over the fate of his son, so that he was able to do fair justice to the cooking of Cub, Hal, and Bud, who had full and joint charge of the preparation of the gastronomic spread. After the meal the four boys cleared the table and washed and wiped the dishes, while the three men joined forces in the continued "sweating" of the prisoner. The latter adhered stubbornly to his earlier "confession" as to what he and his three companions had done with Mr. Baker's son, but failed to make a satisfactory statement as to his own business and the use to which he and his friends had put "their island possession". To the question as to the character of his business, he replied, after some hesitation: "I work in a store." "What kind of store?" asked Mr. Buckley. "A grocery store." "What do you do there?" "I clerk." "What was the price of butter the last day you worked?" asked the inquisitor so quickly and sharply that the victim of the thrust actually turned pale, in spite of a strong front of bravado. But he made a brave enough effort to get over the hurdle. "Twenty-nine cents." "A pound?" asked Mr. Buckley. "Yes," replied the prisoner. "What did you sell butter at a loss for?" the inquisitor demanded. "It hasn't been down that low anywhere that I know of since the war." "I meant butterine," "corrected" the "sweat subject" hurriedly. "Well, you've hit it about right, by accident, of course. Now, let's see if you know anything more about grocery business. What did you sell eggs and potatoes for the last day you worked?" "I didn't sell any." "All you sold was butter?" "Yes." "You mean butterine, don't you?" "No, I sold butter and butterine and a few other things." "And buttermilk and cheese," the officer amended. No answer. "How much did you charge for butter?" "Fifty cents a pound," the prisoner replied, desperately or doggedly, it was difficult to determine which. "Do you know that butter is selling now for thirty-nine or forty cents a pound?" "Then it's come down." "No, it hasn't. It's been around forty cents a pound for several months." The prisoner fixed his eyes on the ground and said nothing. "The trouble is, you haven't done your wife's grocery shopping, or you could tell a more plausible string of lies," Mr. Buckley commented. "Now, let me tell you this: It's been a long time since you saw the inside of a grocery store." "If you don't want to believe me, it's up to you," snarled the prisoner. "Now, Mr. Howard," the inquisitor continued, "your friends, I am told, addressed you as Captain. Why was that?" This query stimulated a little brilliance in the fellow. "I run a grocery boat on the river," he said. "I don't do much clerking, but supply groceries to several stores from a wholesale house." "So that is your explanation for not being very familiar with retail prices, is it?" Mr. Buckley inferred. "Yes." "Well," the Government "sweater" went on, "your story doesn't hang together very well." "You don't want it to hang together," the prisoner snapped. "You're here to make me out a liar. You don't want the truth. You haven't got no right to keep me here." "He claimed the rights of a citizen of the United States and defied us to interfere with him," interposed Mr. Baker, who, together with Mr. Perry, had been listening eagerly to this quizzing process. "How's that?" Mr. Buckley demanded. "Why, Mr. Perry's son and I pulled guns on him and his three companions, when they threatened us with clubs, and this fellow pointed out what he said was the international boundary line between them and us and defied us to cross over and capture them. I made my bull-dog look at him squarely in the eye and hypnotized him over onto this side of the boundary line between the United States and Canada and made a prisoner of him." "Where is that international boundary line?" Mr. Buckley asked. "Right here," Mr. Baker replied, rising from his camp chair and walking about fifteen feet to the stake that the prisoner had designated as indicating the line beyond which any hostile advance must be regarded as a foreign invasion. "Who put that stake there?" he inquired, shifting his penetrating glance from one to another of the three men before him. "I don't know," replied Mr. Perry and Mr. Baker almost in one breath. The prisoner said nothing, and Mr. Baker spoke for him as follows: "If this fellow would answer, I presume the only statement he could make is that it was put there by surveyors of the Canadian and United States Governments." "Humph! Funny surveyor's stake, isn't it?" grunted the Canadian officer, "Methinks we shan't go much farther to prove this fellow a fabricator of fairy tales. So that's the international boundary line, is it?" he asked, eyeing the prisoner keenly. "I was told it was; that's all I know about it," the latter replied sullenly. "Well that was a lucky reply if you intend to persist in your policy of evasion," Mr. Buckley declared. "I was about to denounce you as an illustrious liar. The boundary line between the United States and Canada along here, my dear sir, doesn't cut islands in two. If you will examine a map or chart of the Lake of the Thousand Islands, you will see that the boundary line winds like a snake, dodging the islands through its entire course in this part of the St. Lawrence river." "It was foolish of me to swallow such a yarn as that," said Mr. Baker. "But I called his bluff good and strong. However, I'm much relieved to discover that my credulity was imposed upon; otherwise I might be accused of trying to drag the United States and Canada into war." All of his auditors, except the prisoner, smiled at this remark. The boys, who had just finished washing the dishes, joined the inquisition group in time to hear Mr. Buckley's last statement and Mr. Baker's "confession of folly." "I think we have got as much out of this man as we may hope to get at the present time," the officer announced a moment later. "I think I had better take him back with me and you had better come along, Mr. Baker, and swear out a warrant charging him with kidnapping." "That's exactly what I'm going to do if my son is not returned to me to-night or early in the morning," answered the man thus addressed. "I suppose you have no objection to remaining here over night." "Oh, no; it'll be easier to take care of the prisoner here over night than to work overtime, going back at night, and jail him. But we'll have to keep careful watch over him to-night and see that he doesn't escape." "Maybe we'd better lock him up in one of the staterooms of the yacht," Mr. Perry suggested. "Yes, and keep a good watch over him all night," Cub put in. "We want to make sure those three friends of his don't come back after dark and let 'im out" "I'll watch with Mr. Buckley," Mr. Baker volunteered. "We're both armed and I don't think there's any chance of our being taken by surprise." "We'll watch in two-hour shifts," Mr. Buckley proposed. "In that way we'll keep fresh and on the alert, so that there'll be less danger of being taken by surprise." "Very well, that's agreed upon, if it's satisfactory to Mr. Perry," the officer announced. Further attempts to get information out of the prisoner, bearing on the whereabouts of the place of concealment of Mr. Baker's son, were unavailing, and at last they separated into two parties for the night, Mr. Buckley and Mr. Baker taking charge of the prisoner on board the Catwhisker and Mr. Perry and the boys distributing the sleeping quarters among themselves in the camp. But before the latter retired a new radio thrill was added to their adventures. CHAPTER XXIV "Something Happens" "Something's going to happen to-night," Bud remarked to his three boy friends when the four found themselves alone after the departure of the prisoner under guard. Mr. Perry had accompanied the officer and Mr. Baker to the yacht to aid them in arranging comfortable quarters for the night. "What makes you think that?" Cub inquired, while he and Hal and Max all gathered around the speaker, whose remark afforded stimulus in harmony with the weird twilight shadows around them. "I bet I said only what you fellows were all thinking about when I spoke," Bud ventured by way of indirect reply. "I felt it in my bones," Hal declared. "Bud didn't have any more reason to think something is going to happen to-night than all of us have. If something surprising doesn't happen, I shall be--" "--surprised," finished Max, whereupon there was a chorus of laughter. "Whatever happens, or doesn't happen, Hal is going to be surprised," Cub concluded facetiously. "I think we all will be surprised," said Bud. "Surprise party," shouted Hal. "Bum surprise party without any girls," Cub added. "Well, anyway, I think we ought to keep watch here to guard against the kind of surprise party we wouldn't like," Bud declared. "I agree with you there, old boy," Cub put in quickly. "Whether or not anything happens, it would be jolly to have watches and relieve one another the way they used to do out west among the Indians and outlaws and road agents." "I bet they do it yet in some places out there," said Max. "Course they do," Cub concurred. "You can't tell me that the day of outlaws is gone. Think of the automobile bandits we have now-a-days. They'll be raiding with airplanes next." "No, I don't believe that," Hal objected. "They couldn't use an airplane to any advantage. We won't have any more stage coach robbers or pirates on the high seas, and I don't think there's any chance of much of that sort of thing in the air, but there's a good chance for some bad doings in the air in another way." "How's that?" asked Max. "We've all had some experience with it, and you ought to know what I mean." "Oh, I know," declared Bud. "You mean radio." "Sure," replied Hal. "There are going to be a lot of con men at work in the air or some way in connection with radio; you see if there are not." "They've been at work already," said Cub. "There's been a good deal in the papers about the games they work. But I'd like to know the truth about the fellow who tried to keep us from coming on this trip to find Mr. Baker's son." "I bet he's somethin' more than a college sophomore," said Bud. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's connected in some way with the fellows who kidnapped our Thousand Island Crusoe." "A big radio plot, eh?" Hal inferred. "Maybe," Bud replied. "What for? What could they be up to? Pretty far fetched isn't it?" "Yes, maybe; but, you know, it's our business to think up every possible solution and then find out which one fits the facts." "All right, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, but where's the sense in figuring this as a big radio plot unless we can see a sensible answer to it?" Hal demanded. "Yes, Bud, it's pretty far fetched," ruled the dominating Cub. "You'll have to think up an answer to your conundrum before we can consider it. Why should a college freshman be hazed in the manner that Mr. Baker's son was hazed just so that some men, confederates of the hazers, could kidnap him? And then why should one of the hazers work the kind of game that that mysterious fellow worked to checkmate us in this rescue trip of ours if the purpose was just to kidnap Mr. Baker's son, after all? The sophomores had to kidnap him in the first place. Why go through all that Robinson Crusoe nonsense if the end was to be just a plain kidnapping?" "Then you think there's no connection between the hazing and the kidnapping," said Bud. "I don't see how there can be. There's nothing showed up yet that makes it look reasonable." As Cub was making his last statement Mr. Perry returned to the camp. The speculative subject of discussion was then dropped for others more immediately practical. "What did you do with the prisoner?" Hal inquired. "Did you lock 'im up in a stateroom?" "That's what we did, and I don't believe there's much chance of his getting away with an armed guard constantly near his door," Mr. Perry replied. "Are his hands and feet tied?" asked Cub, "No, we decided that wasn't necessary. There's no way he could open the door without making a noise; so we thought we'd let him rest easy, and perhaps he'd be in a better humor in the morning and more willing to talk." "We've been talking the matter over and we're all afraid something's going to happen to-night," said Hal. "What do you think is going to happen?" asked Mr. Perry. "We haven't any idea." "Some more mystery, eh?" smiled the leader of the expedition. "Well, that isn't at all surprising, in view of the gloominess of our surroundings. Suppose we have a light on the subject. Cub, bring out the flash-lights." The latter went into the tent and soon reappeared with four dry-battery lights. These he laid on the table in fan-like arrangement, so that they threw a flood of light in all directions. "I don't feel like going to bed yet," said Cub. "Let's stay up a while and--" "--listen-in," finished Hal. "Yes, let's do," exclaimed Bud eagerly. "I wasn't thinking of that," Cub admitted; "but it's better than what I had in mind. All right, Hal, tune 'er up. This is a peach of a night for long distance receiving." Hal needed no second bidding and soon he was busy with coil and detector. Cub's "weather report" proved to be accurate, for in a few moments he announced: "Here's Schenectady, New York, with some opera." Over went the switch and with the move came a hornful of vocal resonance. They listened eagerly to the end of the program and then Hal began to tune about for "something else doing" in the ether. Presently he "straightened up" in an attitude of close attention, and his radio friends all realized that he had found something of more than ordinary interest. "Here's a Watertown newspaper looking for information about us," he announced excitedly after a few moments of tense listening. The other boys sprang forward with exclamations of wonder, Bud and Cub donning the other two phone head-pieces. "Shall I give him the information?" Hal asked a few moments later, turning to Mr. Perry. "Whom is he talking to?" the latter inquired. "Some Canadian amateur who's been listening in to us a good deal of the time." "I don't see why you shouldn't tell him everything, Mr. Perry. He's a reporter, isn't he?" "Yes, I think he has his own private set and he's looking for a big scoop." "Give it to him, by all means," Mr. Perry directed heartily. "Now the whole country will be aroused over this affair." Hal managed to attract the attention of the reporter, although he did not know his call, and pretty soon the ether was alive with a torrent of thrills for the ambitious representative of the Fourth Estate. For half an hour the "radio interview" continued, during which many names and addresses were given and dramatic details were recited in the most approved manner of exciting spontaneity. At last, however, the close came with an announcement from the reporter that he was going to get a motor boat, make a dash to Friday Island, and "scoop the world". Hal gave him a careful description of the location of the island and assured the reporter that they probably would remain there a day or two longer. "Now, we'd all better go to bed," Mr. Perry announced after Hal had tapped goodnight to the Watertown scribe. "We ought to arrange some watches first," Bud urged, unforgetful of his prediction that something was going to happen before morning. "Why do you think something more is going to happen?" inquired Hal. "You're a good forecaster, Bud, for your prediction has been fulfilled already. Something did happen when I caught that reporter and gave him our story." "I'll say so," Cub "slanged" wisely. "We'll all have to take our hats off to you, tee-hee." "Hal hasn't tee-heed for twenty-four hours in my hearing," Mr. Perry said reprovingly. "That's right, Cub," declared Bud. "A little while ago I heard him laugh right down deep from his lungs." "Out-door exercise is working wonders for him," Cub opined with deductive superiority. "Well, anyway," said Mr. Perry; "I agree with Bud that we ought to have some watches to-night. I believe in taking warning from Bud's prediction. There are five of us. Who wants the first watch?" Nobody answered. "I'll take the watch beginning about 1:30 o'clock," said Bud. "If anything happens, it'll be between then and 2:30." "Brave boy!" commented Cub solemnly. "I'll take next-best place, immediately following your watch." "Give me the one just before Bud's," said Hal. "There may be something doing between now and then you know. If anybody invades the camp at 1:30 o'clock sharp, I'll call Bud and go to bed and let him repel the invaders." "What a methodical bunch of boys!" Mr. Perry exclaimed. "Due to the mathematical training we've had under you, dad," Cub explained. "I'll take the first watch, if it suits everybody," Max announced. "Say, father, you ought to let us have your automatic while we're on watch," Cub suggested. "Nothing doing," replied the cautious adult, shaking his head vigorously. "I'd rather run the risk of being wiped out by a band of bandits than to run the risk of your shooting one of us if we should happen to walk in our sleep. If any of you boys see or hear anything suspicious, just call me, and I'll do the shooting, if any is to be done. You may arm yourselves with some good stout clubs if you wish to, however." And so it was thus arranged, and while Max took his post on a camp chair in front of the tent, the other four sought rest on their cots under the canvas shelter. CHAPTER XXV Bud Shoots For nearly half an hour Bud had kept his eyes fixed almost continuously on a certain spot in the dark shadow at the edge of the thicket directly south of the tent, which faced west. His attention had been drawn to this spot thirty or forty times after he relieved Max at 1:30 o'clock, and the cause of his interest was a slight movement in the shadow, suggesting a shifting of position by an animal of considerable size. The moon was up, but not high enough to shed much light in the open area in which the tent was pitched. The sky was clear, and because of the deep shadows in which this spot was merged, the heavens, to Bud's eyes, were studded with myriads of gem-like brilliants. In the dim light thus afforded, the boy sentinel was able to make out what appeared to be portions of the form of a man partly hidden in the bushes, which grew at heights varying from three feet to six or seven feet from the ground. Meanwhile he congratulated himself repeatedly for a bit of very ordinary ingenuity he had resorted to in order to prepare himself for any emergency of more or less menacing outlook. Soon after Mr. Perry announced his intention not to allow any of the boys to have possession of his pistol while on guard, Bud's mind became busy on plans for the contrivance of a substitute. In accord with Mr. Perry's concession, each of the boys cut for himself a stout stick to be used as a weapon of defense if necessary, and to supplement this Bud decided first to gather a few dozen stones about the size of a hen's egg in order that he might exercise his skill at throwing if any suspicious looking objects should appear to his view. Then he happened to remember that he had a large rubber band in a small and little-used pocket of his coat. He had put it there for no particular reason, perhaps merely to save it. He had found it about three weeks before and the unusual size and strength of elasticity of the band was enough to interest any boy in the habit of seeing the adventurous possibilities of little things. With the aid of his searchlight, Bud found a small forked limb in a tree at the edge of the open area, immediately after he took charge of the guard post, and cut it off. Then he returned to his seat near the tent and began to whittle. The purpose of this whittling must soon have been evident to an observer, for he held the object up frequently and viewed it, with the calculating eye of a "dead shot," until at last he was satisfied with the length and "grip" of the handle and the symmetry and trim of the prongs of a fork. Bud was always very methodical in his youthful mechanics. Everything he made must be "just so," hence the results were usually effective, as well as artistic to a degree. In this instance, even the notches that he cut around the extreme ends of the prongs were neatly grooved, in spite of the limitation of the light in which he worked. The only regret he had was the fact that he possessed no good strong cord, about the size of fishline, with which to attach two separate sections of the rubber band to the prongs at the grooves. As substitute for such cord he had provided himself with some strands of the rope with which the hands of their prisoner, "Captain" Howard, had been tied. After all the other details of his mechanical labor had been completed, he took from one of his pockets an old and inexpensive pouch-like pocketbook, emptied the contents into a trouser pocket and proceeded to cut out a section of the pouch to a size and shape suited to his needs. The rubber band he had cut into two equal lengths and in the leather section from his pocketbook he cut two small holes near opposite edges. The assembling of the parts of his contrivance was now speedily accomplished, resulting in a very neat hand-catapult of a kind with which every boy is familiar. After testing the strength of the connections by stretching the rubbers several times to thrice their ordinary length, Bud looked about him and soon gathered a supply of small stones suitable for missiles. He was thus engaged when he first observed a movement in the shadow of the thicket to the south of his position. Then, indeed, he congratulated himself on the preparation he had just made to defend himself and his companions against stealthy and hostile movements on the part of the enemy about the camp under cover of the darkness. Bud was not, by nature, a blood-thirsty boy. All of these preparations for battle were made without the slightest thought of the actual effect of one of his missiles should it hit his mark. His industry was inspired more by the mechanical act than by any picture of human pain that might result. Hence, when the time came for him to make use of his weapon "with deadly intent," he found himself in a hesitant frame of mind. He knew that some animal, human or otherwise, was eyeing the camp with studied interest, and it was difficult to imagine other than a human being capable of such interest. Bud finally came to the conclusion that the animal half hidden in the shadow of the bushes was a man, and that the latter's interest was centered in "Captain" Howard, whom he doubtless believed to be held prisoner within the four canvas walls of the tent. "I bet he's one of those four men that took Hal and me and marooned us on that other island," the boy mused. "Of course, he's looking for a chance to set our prisoner free, but he's doomed to disappointment. My goodness!" Bud whirled around suddenly as a new possibility occurred to him, stimulated by a slight noise like the cautious tread of a man's foot. The next instant a cry of alarm almost escaped him as he saw a human form near the entrance of the tent. "My goodness!" he repeated aloud, but in subdued tone, as he recognized the approaching youth. "You'd better announce yourself, Max, before you come onto an armed person under such circumstances as these." "Armed!" echoed the Canadian youth in surprise. "I thought Mr. Perry said--" "Oh, yes, he said we couldn't have his automatic, but I've been busy making a very effective substitute since I came out here--see?" Bud exhibited his weapon by drawing back the leather sling, thereby stretching the elastics to their full capacity. His searchlight he had switched off after finishing the work on his catapult, and the only illumination in the open area came from the moon over the tree tops. "Did you make that out here to-night?" demanded Max in astonishment. "Sure--why not?" was the other's reply. "Well, you're some boy, all right. I'd never 'ave thought of it. If anybody means mischief around here, he'd better look out, with a weapon like that in your hands." "You bet he had," Bud returned with a sturdiness of purpose, indicating to his Canadian friend that he meant business. "And there's at least one prawler around here already. I'm glad you came out here, for I was just about to come in and wake up the whole camp." "Is that so?" whispered Max. "Why, what's doing?" "I don't want to let on that I know anybody is prowling about," Bud replied; "but if you'll watch those bushes straight south of here for a while you'll make out the form of a man half hidden there. He moves a little every now and then. Be careful and don't let him know you known he's there." "I won't," Max replied excitedly. "Why don't you shoot at him?" "I don't want to do that unless I have to," Bud replied. "Besides, I'd like to know what he's up to. Why did you come out here? Couldn't you sleep?" "I didn't sleep a wink; I couldn't. My head was in a whirl all the time. I was busy imagining just such things as this. Believe me, it was some spooky job, out here all alone." "Yes, that's true," Bud agreed. "I'm glad enough to have your company. By the way, you haven't explained how you happened to come here with Mr. Perry. We're mighty glad to have you here, but I was wondering how your folks happened to let you come." "Mr. Buckley is my uncle," Max replied. "I called him up and told him what was going on out here, and he asked me to come along." "Oh, that's it," Bud returned. "I was wondering if you Canadian boys are way ahead of us Yankee boys when it comes to doing as you please. My father wouldn't let me come on this trip if Mr. Perry hadn't come along." "I guess we're not much different from you Yankees," Max replied. "But, talkin' about doing as you please, it seems to me that you went pretty far when you made that slingshot after Mr. Perry said you mustn't have a pistol." "Oh, that's nothing like a pistol," Bud replied. "You couldn't kill anybody with it." "I don't know about that," Max answered with a shake of his head. "I wouldn't like to be in front of it when you shot. I bet you could knock a fellow silly with it." "Maybe I could. Well, anyway, a slingshot's a long way from being a pistol. Have you made that fellow out yet?" "Yes, you bet I have," answered Max. "I've seen 'im move several times." "Let's sit down and pretend not to suspect that anybody's watching us," Bud proposed. "Then maybe he'll be a little bolder." "All right, but we'll have to keep a close watch out of the corner of our eyes." "Sure. Come on. Here are a couple of chairs." "Let's sit down facing each other, so that nobody can creep onto us unawares," suggested Max. "That's a good idea," said Bud. They seated themselves, face to face and within "whispering distance" of each other and continued their conversation in low tones, but at the same time keeping a sharp lookout for developments. "This experience has proved one thing," Bud remarked in the course of their continued discussion, "and that is that all our watches ought to be in two's." "Yes, a single watcher gets pretty lonesome, and, besides, it's too easy for him to be taken by surprise. Now, there's a sample of what I say. Don't look yet; he'll know we see him. He's moved, farther to the east, and now he's creeping up behind the tent." "We must make sure that he's alone, or else rouse the rest of the camp," said Bud excitedly. "Keep watch in every direction. I'll turn slowly and get a look at him, and then turn back and pretend not to see him." This program was observed carefully for a minute or two. Meanwhile the spy crept closer and closer, crawling like a serpentine quadruped and making fairly good progress withal. At last, however, Bud decided that it was time for him to do something to put a stop to this proceeding. Without giving his companion any warning as to his intention, he lifted the catapult eye-line high, pulled back the sling, in which all this time he had held a stone nearly half the size of a hen's egg, and let it fly. Thud! That the missile hit the mark hard was indicated, first, by the sound of the blow, itself, and, second, by the muffled cry of agony that followed. The next instant the victim, who seemed to be struggling to retain his "quadruped balance," rolled over with a moan of impotent agony. CHAPTER XXVI The Sling Shot Victim "What's the matter, boys?" Mr. Perry appeared at the entrance of the tent with this question on his lips. The boys turned quickly, while Cub's father advanced nearer to pursue his inquiry. "I shot somebody," Bud replied. "Shot somebody!" Mr. Perry exclaimed. "What with?" "This," the boy answered, exhibiting his slingshot. "Some fellow was prowling around here and I thought it was time to stop him. He was standing in those bushes over there for a long time, and I suppose he thought he was fully concealed, but I saw him. Then he started to crawl up close to the tent, and I let him have a good solid, heavy stone. It went like a bullet--these rubbers are awful strong, and I pulled them way back." "He isn't killed; he's crawling away," Max interrupted at this point. "We mustn't allow that," declared Bud. "We must find out who he is and what he was up to." Just then Hal and Cub appeared on the scene, and a few words sufficed to explain to them what had occurred. All of the campers on retiring had kept on their day clothes, in order that they might be ready for action in case of trouble in the night. "Come on, we must stop him," Cub announced. This seemed to be the opinion of all, including Mr. Perry, and a general move was made in the direction of the slowly retreating injured spy. They soon overtook him and threw a flood of illumination about him with their search-lights, which they had picked up in the dark almost as instinctively as a grandmother picks up her glasses in the morning. "Why, he's a boy!" Bud was the only one present who gave utterance to this discovery aloud, but the "exclamation" flashed mentally in the head of every other youthful investigator in the group. As Mr. Perry was not easily mystified, we must take it for granted that he was not easily astonished, so that probably he did not feel like giving vent to anything of the nature of an exclamation. "Well," said the latter quietly; "we must take this youngster back to the camp and give him some hospital treatment. Can you walk?" he added, addressing the victim of Bud's slingshot. "You don't think I'd be down here if I could, do you?" moaned the fellow sarcastically. "But just wait till I get over this and I'll fix the fellow that hit me." "Let's not waste any time with him here," urged Mr. Perry. "Some of you boys pick him up carefully, so as not to hurt him, and carry him into the tent. We'll give him a quizzing there." All the young members of the Catwhisker party had had first aid instruction, so that they knew how to lift the injured boy and carry him with a minimum of pain to the sufferer. A minute later the victim was lying on one of the cots in the tent, with his captors gathered around him, undoubtedly more concerned about the mystery of his presence than in the extent of his injuries. "No, boys, we mustn't try to get his story from him until we take care of his wound and see to it that he is resting easy"; Mr. Perry interposed. Accordingly the wound was examined and found to consist of a very bad bruise on the side of the right hip. Bud's missile had struck the intruder at a point where there was little flesh, right on a protruding ridge of the hip bone, and it was easy to see that the blow must have been very painful. "I don't think it's very serious," Mr. Perry remarked after examining the wound; "but I doubt if this boy will want to be running around very much for several days. About all we can do is to apply some liniment to the wound and encourage it, by careful treatment, to heal as rapidly as possible." A bottle of liniment was accordingly produced and an application administered by Mr. Perry. This seemed to ease the prisoner-patient somewhat, although he made no effort to stand up, or even to sit up. "He may have a bone fracture," Mr. Perry remarked, after he had finished his first-aid ministration, "It's a pretty bad wound, after all. We'll have to take him to the nearest physician in the morning if he doesn't show decided improvement by that time. I didn't dare rub the liniment in because the slightest touch was so painful." "The skin isn't broken," Bud observed, with a tone of real concern, for, in spite of the fact that the fellow was there on no friendly mission, the catapult "dead shot" now felt no exultation over his deed. "No, or I could not have used the liniment," Mr. Perry replied. "His clothing protected him against a broken wound. By the way," he continued, turning to the victim, who lay on one of the camp cots that formed a part of the regular equipment of the Catwhisker; "who are you and what were you doing here?" "Never you mind who I am or what I was doing here," snapped the youth, who appeared to be a few years older than the boy Catwhiskerites and their Canadian friend, Max. "You wait till my father gets after you. He'll clean you all up." "And who may your father be?" inquired Mr. Perry with provoking calmness. "You'll find out who my father is, just you wait. You haven't any right here. These islands belong to my father and--" "Oh--ho!" interrupted Mr. Perry in tone of sudden discovery. "So that's the way the wind blows, is it? I get you now. You're the son of one of those kidnappers." The boy's face twitched, possibly with pain, more likely with alarm at his having betrayed his identity so foolishly. "We'll get down to the bottom of this mystery yet," Cub declared confidently. "Yes, all we need is a little mathematics, Mr. Perry, and we'll soon solve the problem." "We've had some mathematics already," Mr. Perry smiled. "I didn't see it," returned Cub. "Maybe I'm slow." "No, you haven't got farther than your One's in the addition table. You can add 1 to any other number, but you can't tell how much 2 plus 2 are." "All right, I'm foolish," admitted Cub. "Spring your joke." "This is a rather serious situation in which to spring a joke," reminded the "foolish boy's" father. "But didn't you hear me put two and two together when this fellow declared that this island belonged to his father?" Laughter greeted this sally, in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "By the way, I wonder if we haven't got this youngster's father a prisoner on the Catwhisker," Mr. Perry continued. Then he turned toward the youth on the cot and inquired: "Is your father a tall, angular fellow with a smart, flip way of talking, and do his friends call him captain?" The catapult victim did not answer, but the expression on his face was all the evidence that was needed to indicate what an honest reply would have been. "I thought so," said Mr. Perry. "Now, would you like to make a trip down to the landing and occupy a stateroom in the Catwhisker with your father? The Catwhisker, by the way, is a yacht in which we made a trip from Oswego, New York, to rescue a boy marooned by some young scamps on this island. After he was marooned, your father and his friends kidnapped him and took him away. Now, what we want to know is, where is he?" Still the wounded prisoner made no reply. "There's going to be some awful serious trouble for your outfit if that boy isn't returned," Mr. Perry went on, waxing fiercer and more fierce in his manner as he purposely worked up a towering rage for the sake of its effect on the boy on the cot. "Would you like me to turn you over to the father of the boy whom your scoundrel gang kidnapped? What do you think would happen to you if he got hold of you? Well, he's on the boat down at the landing, and your father is there too, under lock and key. And before long we're going to have the whole gang of you under lock and key. Now, don't you think it is best for you to give up your secret and tell where that boy is?" The prisoner was now thoroughly frightened. He shrunk away from the glowering owner of the Catwhisker as if he feared the man's clenched fists were about to rain blows on his wounded body. At last he gasped in trembling tones: "I don't know, I don't know." "Don't know what?" thundered Mr. Perry. "I don't know--I don't know--where he is," stuttered the terrified boy. "And I don't believe you, young sir. Do you understand me? You're not telling the truth. Come on, boys, we'll turn him over to the father of the boy they kidnapped." "Oh, no, no; don't, please don't, mister," pleaded the scared youngster. "I don't know where that boy is; please sir, I don't. But I'll ask my father to tell if you'll take me to him." "There, I thought we'd get something out of you," said Mr. Perry in tone of satisfaction. "But you didn't do it with mathematics this time, dad," Cub declared in a voice that indicated full confidence of victory. "Oh, yes, I did, my youthful minus quality," his father flashed back. "I multiplied my wrath very righteously, and this fellow is going to have his woes multiplied and his joys subtracted and his peace of mind divided into a thousand more pieces if he doesn't get busy on the square and see to it that young Alvin Baker is returned to his father." "He isn't hurt nearly as bad as he pretends to be, Mr. Perry," Hal put in as the "mathematical man" indicated that he had "spoken his speech". "He moved his leg several times. You better watch out or he'll be jumping up and making a dash for liberty." "I'd been noticing that," Mr. Perry replied. "I wouldn't insult Bud's catapulting powers by intimating that this fellow wasn't pretty badly hurt; but I do think we've overestimated the extent of the injury. He was completely knocked out by the blow, but he's been recovering here pretty rapidly. Come on, now, Master Howard--what's your first name--won't tell, eh?--all right; we'll find out in due time--come on, let's talk a walk down to papa and that terrible man whose claws are just aching for revenge for the loss of his son. What--you can't get up? Well, boys, pick him up again and carry him. Be careful, of course, for he's in some pain yet. Now, we'll march. Bud, you bring up the rear with your mediaeval rubber pistol, and I'll march beside you. If anybody, tries to interfere with us there'll be some crack-shot shooting." Hal, Cub, Bud, and Max picked up the wounded boy in approved relief-ambulance-corps style and carried him, with a few groans and moans from their burden, across the open area, through the narrow belt of bushes, to the top of the hill that overlooked the landing. There Mr. Perry called a halt and then hailed the yacht thus: "Ahoy, the Catwhisker." All listened breathlessly, but no answer came. Then the owner of the boat put greater volume in his voice and repeated the hail: "Ahoy, the Catwhisker! Ahoy, the Catwhisker!" This time an answer came, but hardly in the manner expected. A muffled, rattling, rackety noise came from within the cabin, the door of which seemed to be closed. It sounded as if someone were pounding and kicking the walls like an insane patient in an unpadded room. "What in the world does that mean?" Cub demanded, giving utterance to the apprehension that thrilled every other member of the party. "I don't know," his father replied; "but I'm going to find out pretty quick. You boys stay here with the prisoner. I'm going down there to investigate." With this announcement, he drew his automatic for ready use and began to descend the steps they had fashioned in the stony hill before establishing their camp on Friday Island. CHAPTER XXVII Chased Out The investigation did not take long. The boys watched Mr. Perry as he crossed the moonlit deck of the Catwhisker and entered the cabin. A few minutes later he returned on the deck and with him were two men, whom the observers on shore recognized as Mr. Baker and the Canadian officer. Then Mr. Perry called out: "Come on down here, boys." A minute later they were on board the yacht with their prisoner. Cub, the most impatient of their number, was first to speak. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Matter enough," growled the officer. "Those scoundrels outwitted us, locked us in the stateroom, and our prisoner is gone." The boys were so astonished that not one of them uttered a sound. "I haven't heard their story yet," Mr. Perry interposed. "We'll all get it together." "It won't take long to tell how they did it," Mr. Buckley began. Then he seemed to hesitate, glancing in some embarrassment at Mr. Baker. "I'll take all the blame," the latter confessed at this juncture. "In fact, there's nobody to blame but me. I wasn't asleep at my post, but my wits must have been slumbering, for one of those fellows stole up behind me and gave me a rap on the head that put me to sleep sure enough. When I woke up I was in a pitch dark stateroom, with the door locked. Luckily my searchlight had not been taken out of my pocket, and soon I had the place well enough lighted to determine where I was. I also found something else; I found Mr. Buckley in the same condition that I had been in--unconscious. Mr. Buckley can tell you the rest." "There's absolutely nothing for me to tell," Mr. Buckley replied, "I went to sleep on the cot in the cabin and woke up with a headache in the stateroom. Mr. Baker was working over me as if I'd been shell-shocked on the battlefield. I think we both were sandbagged, for there were no bruises on our heads. We were locked in and probably would have been driven to the necessity of breaking the door open if Mr. Perry hadn't come when he did and let us out." "I found both the stateroom door and the cabin door locked with the keys on the outside," Mr. Perry explained. "Well, we have this consolation at least: While we were losing one prisoner, we were capturing another." "What do you mean by that?" Mr. Buckley; demanded quickly. "Here's the new prisoner right here," was the other's reply, indicating the catapult victim who had suddenly found himself able to stand with his weight on his uninjured leg and aided by two of the Catwhisker boys. "Who is he--one of that gang?" asked the officer. "He's a son of one of them, probably the one who was rescued from you." "Lock him up in that stateroom at once, and I'll have something more to tell you," Mr. Buckley ordered. The order was speedily obeyed; then all gathered eagerly about the government officer. "The situation is this," the latter began. "When those rascals raided this boat they robbed me of my gun and I suppose they got yours, too, didn't they, Mr. Baker?" The father of the missing freshman slapped his hand on his "pistol pocket" and then gasped: "Yes, it's gone." "I thought so," continued the officer. "Now, we have an armed enemy to contend with. If they get wind of the fact that we have the son of one of them a prisoner on this yacht, you can expect a fusillade of bullets popping through your portholes any time. My advice is to get out of here as soon as possible." "Where'll we go?" asked Mr. Perry. "We'll decide that after we get away. If you want to keep your prisoner, don't stay here." "Dad's got his automatic yet," Cub reminded with youthful confidence in a chamber full of shells. "And I've got my slingshot," chimed in Bud. "Tee-hee," laughed Hal. "Oh you can laugh all you want to, Tee-hee, but if it hadn't been for my slingshot, we wouldn't have any prisoner at all right now," Bud flung back with a suggestion of resentment. "Yes, we must give Bud credit for all he's done," Mr. Perry agreed. "We owe a good deal to his ingenuity." "We ought to take our prisoner over to Rockport and put him in jail," suggested Mr. Baker. "On what ground?" asked Mr. Buckley. "What would you charge him with? He hasn't done anything except spy around your camp here. You couldn't put him in jail for that and keep him there any time. Besides, his father claims to own these islands--maybe he does." "Well, what are you in favor of doing?" asked Mr. Baker. "I think we ought to move your entire camp outfit to this boat and then stand off from the shore for a while and keep our eyes on this place with spyglasses--have you got a pair?" "Yes," Mr. Perry replied; "two good strong pair." "Then we'd better get busy at once before they suspect what has become of this boy we have here." "All right, let's get busy at once," said Mr. Perry. "The boys, however, must stay here on the boat. We don't want to run any risk of their falling into the hands of the enemy." "Oh, Mr. Perry, let me go along with you and get my radio outfit," Hal begged. The yachtsman looked at the pleading youth for a few moments in hesitating manner. "I don't know," he replied slowly. "Still, I suppose we could protect one of you if anything happened. Well, inasmuch as we men don't know anything about disconnecting a radio hook-up. I guess we'll take you for one trip. Come on; no more delay. Keep a good lookout, Cub and Bud, and set up a holler if anything goes wrong. And, Bud, be careful not to mistake us for the enemy when we return; we don't want to be hit by that sling of yours." "We ought to have a signal, so we could be sure to recognize each other," Bud suggested. "All right, what'll it be?" "The Catwhisker ought to have an official signal," said Hal. "Why not make it 'meow'?" "Very good; it's adopted." The first trip was made without incident worthy of special note. Hal and Mr. Baker brought all of the radio set except the aerial, and Mr. Perry and Mr. Buckley each carried a load of camp equipment on their return trip. Then Mr. Perry insisted that Hal remain on the yacht, and the three men went ashore again for another load. But from this trip they came back sooner than looked for, and the manner of their return alarmed the boys, who expected momentarily to hear pistol shots fired at them from the shore. The three men came down the hill to the landing almost at a run, and as they reached the deck, Mr. Perry announced in cautious tones: "Boys, we'll have to leave that camp as it is for a while. Those men are up there watching for us. We don't want to get into a gun battle with them; so we're going to back out of here as fast as we can." CHAPTER XXVIII A Radio Eavesdropper The Catwhisker was backed out of the narrow inlet or strait, in which she had been moored, without interference on the part of the hostile men on Friday Island. Whether or not the latter knew of the departure of the yacht, the men and boys on board had no way to determine. It is probable, however, that they heard the coughing and sputtering of the gasoline engine and that they watched proceedings from any of the numerous places of concealment afforded by rocks, bushes, and trees along the shore elevations. At any rate, the most careful scrutiny of the deep shadows revealed nothing to the Catwhiskerites and their guests as the yacht worked its way out of the inclosure, and presently they exchanged congratulations one with another on the assurance that they were well out of pistol-shot range from the group of islands. "How far do you think we had better go?" asked Mr. Perry addressing the Canadian officer after this matter of concern had been well taken care of. "Oh, I think we ought to find a mooring place at some island about a mile from here and try to get a little sleep before daybreak," Mr. Buckley replied. "I'm sure Mr. Baker and I need some brain rest after the slams we got on our craniums. I've got the worst headache right now that I ever had in my life." "So have I," Mr. Baker chimed in. "All right, let's not discuss this affair any more to-night," Mr. Perry proposed. "Boys, you may as well get your wits together to arrange the most comfortable sleeping quarters possible under the circumstances. I guess about all our bedding is at the camp." The boys set about to do as suggested, but it was not long before they realized that wits could do little for them regarding rest convenience for the remainder of the night. Presently they reported back the following results to Mr. Perry: One lounge in the cabin, bedding enough for one of the berths and enough other bedding and articles of clothing to be rolled into pillow substitutes for half a dozen sleepers. Presently Mr. Buckley, who had been keeping a sharp lookout ahead in the moonlight, supplemented by the strong headlight of the Catwhisker, pointed out what seemed to be a suitable mooring place for the yacht for the rest of the night, and a careful run-in was made, accompanied by pole-soundings to prevent running aground. The depth proved to be O.K., and in a short time the yacht was tied up to a small tree which leaned over almost far enough to dip some of its branches into the water. As all were eager to waste no time belonging to nature's nocturnal period of rest, the pillow substitutes were soon rolled and the various sleeping quarters assigned according to varying degrees of necessity. Because of their "sand-bag headaches," Mr. Baker and Mr. Buckley were given the cabin lounge and the available stateroom berth. Although they felt reasonably safe against further intrusion in their new quarters, nevertheless it was deemed wise to maintain a series of one-hour watches, the first of which fell to Mr. Perry by his own choice. Before the general retirement of all but the first watch, an inspection was made of the stateroom prison, and the boy prisoner was found to be fast asleep on the floor with one arm for a pillow. Hal was given the last watch, beginning shortly before the break of day. Bud who had preceded him, handed over his slingshot together with a supply of stones which he had brought in one of his pockets from Friday Island. Hal accepted the catapult with profound respect, expressing full confidence in his ability to repel a formidable array of would-be boarders with a weapon of such knock-out record. After it was light enough for him to see what he was doing, Hal occupied his time by connecting his radio set for service on the yacht once more. When this task was completed, he set about to prepare breakfast, deciding that he would let the sleepers get another hour's rest, as he could prepare the morning meal alone almost as quickly as with the aid of one or two others. He had already learned the truth of the housewife's axiom that "two are a crowd in a kitchen, and three are a throng." At 7 o'clock he called all the sleepers to breakfast. The two "sand-bag headaches" were no more, and everybody was as cheerful as could have been expected under the circumstances. "What are we going to do about Bud's prisoner?" Hal inquired as they were about to gather around the cabin table, which was well loaded with appetizing dishes, some of them steaming hot. "Oh, we'll have to give him some breakfast," replied Mr. Perry, starting for the prison-stateroom. "I'd quite forgotten him." Without more ado, the prisoner was produced and supplied with conveniences to prepare for the morning meal. After he had washed and combed his tousled hair, he presented a fairly respectable appearance and was given a place at the table. He sat through the meal without as much as a "thank you" for dishes passed to him, and the other breakfasters, observing that he was in anything but a cheerful mood, did not attempt to draw him into conversation. After breakfast the three men on board held a conference, the result of which was an agreement to run back to the Friday Island group and make an inspection of it with glasses from every possible angle. In this way they hoped to be able to obtain a clew relative to the headquarters and activities of the men who had ordered them to move their camp from Friday Island. Then the engine was started, and the course of the Catwhisker directed up stream. "Now, my friend," remarked Mr. Buckley, addressing the young Canadian; "you'd be perfectly welcome to the freedom of the deck under ordinary circumstances, but the present are extraordinary circumstances, so we'll have to ask you to resort to the pleasures and comforts of the cabin. Boys," he added, addressing the three young Catwhiskerites, "you may go into the cabin, too, and get acquainted with him." Then in lower tone to Cub, who stood near the officer, he suggested: "Maybe he'll be more talkative with you boys than he has been with us men. See if you can't get something out of him." Cub "tipped" Hal and Bud as to the purpose communicated to him by the Canadian officer, and the three conducted "Bud's prisoner" into the cabin. But the latter proved to be about as uncommunicative as he had been when the older members of the yacht's company tried to get something out of him. He appeared to be bright enough and not especially coarse grained, so that from the standpoint of quality qualifications, there seemed to be no reason for his sullenness. Hal frankly made a statement to him to this effect, but it produced no result of the kind desired and intended. They got only short, surly returns in response to their most friendly advances. At last they gave it up and returned on deck. Before leaving the cabin, however, Cub said to the prisoner: "Now, if you'll promise to stay here and not make any attempt to escape, we won't lock you up. Otherwise we'll have to lock you up in a stateroom." "I'll promise," was the fellow's laconic response. "By the way," Bud remarked, as they were about to leave the cabin, "would you mind telling us the handle of your name? We know your father's surname, but we'd like to know how to address you. You're too young for us to call you Mr. Howard." "You c'n call me Bill, if you want to," the slingshot victim replied. Hal was particularly impressed with a sly, cunning look in the eyes of the prisoner and told himself that the fellow would bear watching to keep him out of mischief. "I tell you what I'd like to do," he said to his two friends as they reached the deck. "I'd like to hide in the closet in the cabin and watch that fellow. I bet he'd do something that would help us break his mysterious silence." "You could steal down into that little alcove near the entrance of the cabin and watch him there through the crack in the door," Bud suggested. "That's second best choice," said Hal, "I think I'll make use of it at once." Accordingly he descended the companionway with the greatest caution and succeeded in ensconcing himself in the position suggested by Bud. He had not been there long when he was amply rewarded for his diligence. He could hear the prisoner moving about in the cabin and a peep through the long narrow aperture along the hinge side of the door acquainted him with the object of the Canadian boy's interest. The latter, apparently, had just seated himself at the table, and with phones to his ears, was in the act of tuning the instrument. Presently he appeared to be satisfied with this preliminary and put his hand on the sending key. The fellow seemed to be perfectly at home with the outfit. Now the key was tapping and the spark was leaping across the gap. The secret watcher leaned forward eagerly to catch every sound. Yes, it came in genuine enough dots and dashes, and he read them with ever increasing astonishment. First the operator repeated a Canadian call several times. Then, apparently, the call was acknowledged, and he sent the following message: "I am prisoner on yacht, Catwhisker, in hands of the fellows I tried to hold back, with radio, as they were leaving Oswego, N.Y. They are determined to solve mystery of your doings. Don't bother about me, but tell pa to clean out his place as soon as possible and then let his prisoner go. They have government officer with them on his trail and will soon find his hiding place and raid it." "My goodness!" Hal breathed excitedly. "Now I'm getting at the bottom of this affair. That boy is the anonymous amateur who pretended to have a radio wager with Hal's cousin and tried to make us think his SOS was a joke." CHAPTER XXIX The End of the "Mystery" Hal almost held his breath in his eagerness to maintain perfect silence in order that he might "listen-in" to this radio transmission until the sender had telegraphed all that he had in mind to send. "My, if I only had an extension receiver," he thought. "How I would like to hear what the fellow he's talking with has to say." Even as this longing came to his mind, "Bill" ceased to send and listened attentively to something that was coming to him "over the wireless." Presently he swung the aerial switch over and began to send again. "I tell you you are in danger," he dot-and-dashed. "That hiding place is not safe any more. They will have a revenue cutter down on you, before you know what has happened. The government officer suspects the truth, I am dead sure." A few more sentences of similar purport were sent in reply to other messages received. Then "Bill" cut the radio conversation short with a warning that he did not dare continue it longer and left the table. As he got up from his seat, Hal stepped into the cabin and remarked: "Congratulations, 'Bill'; I didn't know you were a radio fan. But really, I'm glad to recognize you as an old acquaintance." "Bill" turned as white as the proverbial sheet and trembled like the aspen of similar associations. Then he blurted out: "I don't know what you mean." "Do you deny that you were just telegraphing a message to a friend of yours?" Hal demanded. "No, not at all," replied "Bill". "I guess that ought to convince you I'm not the criminal you're trying to make me out to be." "I'm not trying to make you out a criminal. I surely hope you're not. No, I don't believe there are many criminals among radio fans and college students." "College students!" "Say, 'Bill Howard', don't try to play the innocent to a fellow who's been listening-in to your unconscious confessions ever since you began to talk in your sleep," Hal scoffed with well simulated disgust. "I know well enough who you are. You're one of the sophomores of Edward's College who hazed Alvin Baker by marooning him on that island where his cousin shot you with a slingshot." "Bill's" lower jaw dropped, and there was some more aspen trembling in his frame. "You don't need to be so badly scared," Hal went on with a tone of reassurance inspired by a purpose. "Of course that was a pretty raw hazing, but you can get by with it yet if you don't carry your prank any farther. Tell us where your victim is." "Give me a few days and I'll produce him," the frightened boy pleaded. "He isn't hurt, and nobody's goin' to hurt 'im." "Well, I'm glad to get that much out of you," Hal declared with profound gratification. "But I don't see why in the world you have to be so mysterious about it. Why not tell me now where he is?" "I--I--can't," faltered the other. "Don't you know?" "No, but I can find out." Hal was sure the fellow was lying, and he looked at him with accusing penetration. "You'll have to let me do it my own way," the Canadian youth added stubbornly. Realizing that he could make no further progress with the prisoner at present, and fearing that it might not be wise to disclose what more he had learned by listening to the wireless messages the hazer had just sent, Hal returned to the deck and recounted his experience in the cabin to his companions. All were assembled at the pilot house when he gave his recital. "This is important," said Mr. Buckley when the account was finished. "I'm glad you didn't disclose to him the fact that you suspect anything is going on of interest to the Canadian government. He won't be on his guard so much perhaps as he would be if you had put all your cards on the table. By the way, everything seems to be happening in our favor right now. There's a Canadian revenue boat over there. Let's run over that way and hail it." The boat in question was somewhat larger than the Catwhisker and looked as if it might give the yacht a merry race if the two were matched for a test of speed. She was 300 yards distant and in a few minutes the evicted Friday Islanders had run up within short hailing distance of her. Then Buckley gave a signal, which was recognized, and the two boats were brought close together. A short conversation between Buckley and the commander of the revenue boat was sufficient to acquaint the latter with the situation, and he promised to remain in the vicinity in order that he might come speedily to the aid of the Catwhisker when needed. Then began the work of careful examination of the Friday Island group with binoculars. The yacht was only a few hundred yards from these islands when the Canadian revenue cutter was sighted. After arrangements for co-operation had been made with the commander of this boat, the Catwhisker began to move slowly around the group, while Mr. Perry and Mr. Buckley examined every detail of their littoral features with strong glasses. Cub was at the wheel, and Mr. Baker, Bud, Hal and Max stood near the two men with the glasses, eagerly waiting for significant results. "I wonder if this is to be the finishing stroke," said Bud, addressing the two boys near him. Mr. Perry overheard the "wonder" and replied: "I am confident that we will solve the whole problem very shortly." "With mathematics?" asked Hal. "You see we are moving in a geometric circle, do you not?" Mr. Perry returned with a smile. "Oh, look there!" suddenly exclaimed Max. "A motor boat." But there was no need of calling attention to so conspicuous an appearance. All saw it at the same time. It darted out from a narrow passage between two of the smaller islands surrounding the one that Alvin Baker had denominated "Friday." It was a small cabin runabout, very neatly designed and constructed; and apparently with a draft measured only by inches. She made directly for the yacht. "Catwhisker, ahoy!" called out a youthful voice, and a wide-awake red-haired boy put his head out of one of the port windows of the cabin. "I want to come aboard with important information." Of course, everybody aboard the Catwhisker was astonished, but Mr. Perry signaled Cub to reverse the engine. This was done, and the yacht soon lost all headway. Then the runabout glided close up to the larger power boat, and the boy who had hailed her sprang over the two adjacent rails. Another boy could be seen in the pilot seat of the smaller craft. "My name is Halstone," announced the visitor. "I am from--" His announcement was drowned with exclamations of surprise from his audience. "Hal Stone!" repeated several in chorus, including the Catwhisker's Hal Stone himself. "Yes, Halstone," reiterated the challenged youth; Frederick Halstone. "Anything funny about that? I'm the reporter from Watertown who was dot-and-dashing with you folks last night. I got in touch with a friend of mine right away who owns that motor boat, and he was crazy to make the trip here after this big scoop. I'm here representing not only my paper, but the Associated Press. We located Friday Island here without any difficulty. But I brought my radio outfit and loop antenna along and listened in just a short time ago to some messages between somebody who said he was a prisoner on the Catwhisker and another fellow on a boat in the cove I just came out of. You'd hardly think a boat of its size could get in there. It's about the same size as the Catwhisker, and is built and painted like it. I think you'll find the solution of your big mystery is right there. They're loading a lot of stuff in boxes from a cave in the steep bank of that small island next to the big one. The cove is between these two small islands, which, you see, have high banks and are covered with bushes and trees, so that their boat could rest there and be invisible to anybody out on the river or on the shore of the larger island that you call 'Friday'. They're making a big hustle to get away." "Is there a boy in there?" asked Mr. Baker eagerly. "Yes, several of them and four men. The men were pretty sore at me for running in there, and they ordered me out. I don't think, however, that there's much love lost between the men and the boys. I suspect the men are smugglers, and the boys have got into a scrape they don't like. There was an exchange of hot words going on just as I ran into their hiding place." No more time was wasted in the making of explanations. The little revenue cutter was signaled and in less than fifteen minutes half a dozen men, including Mr. Buckley and Mr. Baker, were on the cabin-runabout which again saucily invaded the retreat of the Catwhisker's "double." CHAPTER XXX The Result of a Radio Hazing The raid was a speedy success. "Captain" Howard and his crew of lawbreakers offered no resistance when they saw the odds against them, for each of the men from the revenue cutter was armed and promised to shoot to kill if a hostile hand was raised against them. Then they made an inspection of the cave, which was of considerable size and lighted with an oil lamp, and there the lost victim of a radio college hazing was found chained to a post that had been driven into the ground floor. He had not suffered from malicious mistreatment in any way, but was chafing under restraint and confinement. He was a little older than the Catwhisker boys, but he had no "college airs" and was soon telling his story as one boy to a group of chums, while the men stood around and drank it all in as eagerly as if they themselves were boys again. "Bill Howard made the biggest mistake of his life when he confederated with three other sophomores to haze me," Alvin began. "He didn't know his father had a hide-out here when they marooned me on Friday Island. His father owns several motor boats that are used for pleasure excursions, but, I suspect, he wasn't making money fast enough and fell for a scheme put up to him from the other men who are now his companions in crime. They were in touch with a gang of burglars and hold-up men who wanted a means of disposing of their loot. They induced Mr. Howard to consent to the use of one of his boats to convey stolen property of various kinds to this cave as a hiding place, and from here, occasionally, to places of disposal, principally in the United States. Well, Bill's band of hazers unwittingly brought me to these islands, and before long there was a pretty mix-up. The operators of this burglars' 'fence' found me on Friday Island and got the idea, I suppose, that I was spying on them. At first I hoped they would let me go, but I made some foolish remarks, based merely on suspicion, about the character of their business, and they concluded the jig was up and brought me right to this cave, and, of course, after that I could see everything that was going on. Then the hazers appeared on the scene. I suppose they became a little nervous about me. I gathered from conversation I overheard that they stumbled into this place while searching for me and then they were taken partly into the confidence of the lawbreakers. But they're pretty smart boys, if they are sophomores and if their leader is a son of a smuggler of stolen goods, and soon were putting two and two together--" "More mathematics," interrupted Mr. Perry gravely. Alvin looked at him curiously, but this was no time for academic digression, and the veiled quip had to await later explanation. Of course there was more discussion of the strange tangle of events, which now seemed to be about to be cleared up. Indeed, it took many days for them to thrash the subject out completely, but it would hardly do to write another book on matters now essentially explained so we must leave those details to the diversion of Friday Island camp. The camp was rehabitated, Hal's radio outfit was hooked up again with the island aerial, and all of the Catwhiskerites and their newly discovered radio friends enjoyed a week's undisturbed outing in the midst of recent personal romantic associations. As for the "radio hazers," they went back home with no spirit of "brag" over their achievements, and the members of the band of smugglers of stolen goods were held in custody and eventually punished under sentences returned in a Canadian court. Meanwhile Mr. Perry took steps looking toward the purchase of the Friday Island group from the Canadian government as a summer camping place for the Catwhiskerites and their friends. The next volume of this series will be RADIO BOYS AND THE SKY PLOT or BOTTLING THE BOREALIS. 
12375	----	[Illustration: SAMUEL FINLEY BREESE MORSE Inventor of the Telegraph] MASTERS OF SPACE MORSE _and the Telegraph_ THOMPSON _and the Cable_ BELL _and the Telephone_ MARCONI _and the Wireless Telegraph_ CARTY _and the Wireless Telephone_ BY WALTER KELLOGG TOWERS ILLUSTRATED 1917 TO MY CO-LABORER AND COMPANION BERENICE LAURA TOWERS WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT AND ASSISTANCE WERE CONSTANT IN THE GATHERING AND PREPARATION OF MATERIAL FOR THIS VOLUME. CONTENTS CHAP. PREFACE I. COMMUNICATION AMONG THE ANCIENTS II. SIGNALS PAST AND PRESENT III. FORERUNNERS OF THE TELEGRAPH IV. INVENTIONS OF SIR CHARLES WHEATSTONE V. THE ACHIEVEMENT OF MORSE VI. "WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT?" VII. DEVELOPMENT OF THE TELEGRAPH SYSTEM VIII. TELEGRAPHING BENEATH THE SEA IX. THE PIONEER ATLANTIC CABLE X. A SUCCESSFUL CABLE ATTAINED XI. ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL, THE YOUTH XII. THE BIRTH OF THE TELEPHONE XIII. THE TELEPHONE AT THE CENTENNIAL XIV. IMPROVEMENT AND EXPANSION XV. TELEGRAPHING WITHOUT WIRES XVI. AN ITALIAN BOY'S WORK XVII. WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY ESTABLISHED XVIII. THE WIRELESS SERVES THE WORLD XIX. SPEAKING ACROSS THE CONTINENT XX. TELEPHONING THROUGH SPACE APPENDIX A APPENDIX B INDEX ILLUSTRATIONS SAMUEL FINLEY BREESE MORSE MORSE'S FIRST TELEGRAPH INSTRUMENT CYRUS W. FIELD WILLIAM THOMSON (LORD KELVIN) THE "GREAT EASTERN" LAYING THE ATLANTIC CABLE, 1866 ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL THOMAS A. WATSON PROFESSOR BELL'S VIBRATING REED PROFESSOR BELL'S FIRST TELEPHONE THE FIRST TELEPHONE SWITCHBOARD USED IN NEW HAVEN, CONN., FOR EIGHT SUBSCRIBERS EARLY NEW YORK EXCHANGE PROFESSOR BELL IN SALEM, MASS., AND MR. WATSON IN BOSTON, DEMONSTRATING THE TELEPHONE BEFORE AUDIENCES IN 1877 DOCTOR BELL AT THE TELEPHONE OPENING THE NEW YORK-CHICAGO LINE, OCTOBER 18, 1892 GUGLIELMO MARCONI A REMARKABLE PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN OUTSIDE OF THE CLIFDEN STATION WHILE MESSAGES WERE BEING SENT ACROSS TO CAPE RACE MARCONI STATION AT CLIFDEN, IRELAND PREFACE This is the story of talking at a distance, of sending messages through space. It is the story of great men--Morse, Thomson, Bell, Marconi, and others--and how, with the aid of men like Field, Vail, Catty, Pupin, the scientist, and others in both the technical and commercial fields, they succeeded in flashing both messages and speech around the world, with wires and without wires. It is the story of how the thought of the world has been linked together by those modern wonders of science and of industry--the telegraph, the submarine cable, the telephone, the wireless telegraph, and, most recently, the wireless telephone. The story opens with the primitive methods of message-sending by fire or smoke or other signals. The life and experiments of Morse are then pictured and the dramatic story of the invention and development of the telegraph is set forth. The submarine cable followed with the struggles of Field, the business executive, and Thomson, the inventor and scientific expert, which finally culminated in success when the _Great Eastern_ landed a practical cable on the American coast. The early life of Alexander Graham Bell was full of color, and I have told the story of his patient investigations of human speech and hearing, which, finally culminated in a practical telephone. There follows the fascinating story of Marconi and the wireless telegraph. Last comes the story of the wireless telephone, that newest wonder which has come among us so recently that we can scarcely realize that it is here. An inner view of the marvelous development of the telephone is added in an appendix. The part played by the great business leaders who have developed and extended the new inventions, placing them at the service of all, has not been forgotten. Not only have means of communication been discovered, but they have been improved and put to the widest practical use with remarkable efficiency and celerity. The stories of these developments, in both the personal and executive sides, embody the true romance of the modern business world. The great scientists and engineers who have wrought these wonders which have had so profound an influence upon the life of the world lived, and are living, lives filled with patient effort, discouragement, accomplishment, and real romance. They are interesting men who have done interesting things. Better still, they have done important, useful things. This book relates their life stories in a connected form, for they have all worked for a similar end. The story of these men, who, starting in early youth in the pursuit of a great idea, have achieved fame and success and have benefited civilization, cannot but be inspiring. They did not stumble upon their discoveries by any lucky accident. They knew what they sought, and they labored toward the goal with unflagging zeal. Had they been easily discouraged we might still be dependent upon the semaphore and the pony express for the transmission of news. But they persevered until success was attained, and in the account of their struggle to success every one may find encouragement in facing his own tasks. One can scarce overestimate the value of modern methods of communication to the world. So much of our development has been more or less directly dependent upon it that it is difficult to fancy our situation without the telegraph and telephone. The diligence with which the ancients sought speedy methods for the sending of messages demonstrates the human need for them. The solution of this great problem, though long delayed, came swiftly, once it was begun. Even the simple facts regarding "Masters of Space" and their lives of struggle and accomplishment in sending messages between distant points form an inspiring story of great achievement. W.K.T. #MASTERS OF SPACE# I COMMUNICATION AMONG THE ANCIENTS Signaling the Fall of Troy--Marine Signaling among the Argonauts--Couriers of the Greeks, Romans, and Aztecs--Sound-signaling--Stentorophonic Tube--The Shouting Sentinels--The Clepsydra--Signal Columns--Indian Fire and Smoke Signals. It was very early in the history of the world that man began to feel the urgent need of communicating with man at a distance. When village came into friendly contact with village, when nations began to form and expand, the necessity of sending intelligence rapidly and effectively was clearly realized. And yet many centuries passed without the discovery of an effective system. Those discoveries were to be reserved for the thinkers of our age. We can understand the difficulties that beset King Agamemnon as he stood at the head of his armies before the walls of Troy. Many were the messages he would want to send to his native kingdom in Greece during the progress of the siege. Those at home would be eager for news of the great enterprise. Many contingencies might arise which would make the need for aid urgent. Certainly Queen Clytemnestra eagerly awaited word of the fall of the city. Yet the slow progress of couriers must be depended upon. One device the king hit upon which was such as any boy might devise to meet the simplest need. "If I can go skating tonight," says Johnny Jones to his chum, "I'll put a light in my window." Such is the simple device which has been used to bear the simplest message for ages. So King Agamemnon ordered beacon fires laid on the tops of Mount Ida, Mount Athos, Mount Cithæron, and on intervening eminences. Beside them he placed watchers who were always to have their faces toward Troy. When Troy fell a near-by fire was kindled, and beacon after beacon sprang into flame on the route toward Greece. Thus was the message of the fall of Troy quickly borne to the waiting queen by this preconceived arrangement. Yet neither King Agamemnon nor his sagest counselors could devise an effective system for expediting their messages. Prearranged signals were used to convey news in even earlier times. Fire, smoke, and flags were used by the Egyptians and the Assyrians previous to the Trojan War. The towers along the Chinese Wall were more than watch-towers; they were signal-towers. A flag or a light exhibited from tower to tower would quickly convey a certain message agreed upon in advance. Human thought required a system which could convey more than one idea, and yet skill in conveying news grew slowly. Perhaps the earliest example of marine signaling of which we know is recorded of the Argonautic Expedition. Theseus devised the use of colored sails to convey messages from ship to ship of the fleet, and caused the death of his father by his failure to handle the signals properly. Theseus sailed into conflict with the enemy with black sails set, a signal of battle and of death. With the battle over and himself the victor, he forgot to lower the black flag and set the red flag of victory. His father, the aged Ægeus, seeing the black flag, believed it reported his son's death, and, flinging himself into the sea, was drowned. In time it occurred to the great monarchs as their domains extended to establish relays of couriers to bear the messages which must be carried. Such systems were established by the Greeks, the Romans, and the Aztecs. Each courier would run the length of his own route and would then shout or pass the message to the next runner, who would speed it away in turn. Such was the method employed by our own pony-express riders. An ancient Persian king thought of having the messages shouted from sentinel to sentinel, instead of being carried more slowly by relays of couriers. So he established sentinels at regular intervals within hearing of one another, and messages were shouted from one to the other. Just fancy the number of sentinels required to establish a line between distant cities, and the opportunities for misunderstanding and mistake! The ancient Gauls also employed this method of communication. Cæsar records that the news of the massacre of the Romans at Orleans was sent to Auvergne, a distance of nearly one hundred and fifty miles, by the same evening. Though signaling by flashes of light occurred to the ancients, we have no knowledge that they devised a way of using the light-flashes for any but the simplest prearranged messages. The mirrors of the Pharaohs were probably used to flash light for signal purposes. We know that the Persians applied them to signaling in time of war. It is reported that flashes from the shields were used to convey news at the battle of Marathon. These seem to be the forerunners of the heliograph. But the heliograph using the dot-and-dash system of the Morse code can be used to transmit any message whatever. The ancients had evolved systems by which any word could be spelled, but they did not seem to be able to apply them practically to their primitive heliographs. An application of sound-signaling was worked out for Alexander the Great, which was considered one of the scientific wonders of antiquity. This was called a stentorophonic tube, and seems to have been a sort of gigantic megaphone or speaking-trumpet. It is recorded that it sent the voice for a dozen miles. A drawing of this strange instrument is preserved in the Vatican. Another queer signaling device, built and operated upon a novel principle, was an even greater wonder among the early peoples. This was known as a clepsydra. Fancy a tall glass tube with an opening at the bottom in which a sort of faucet was fixed. At varying heights sentences were inscribed about the tube. The tube, being filled with water, with, a float at the top, all was ready for signaling any of the messages inscribed on the tube to a station within sight and similarly equipped. The other station could be located as far away as a light could be seen. The station desiring to send a message to another exhibited its light. When the receiving station showed its light in answer, the tap was opened at the bottom of the tube in each station. When the float dropped until it was opposite the sentence which it was desired to transmit, the sending station withdrew its light and closed the tap. This was a signal for the receiving station to stop the flow of water from its tube. As the tubes were just alike, and the water had flowed out during the same period at equal speed, the float at the receiving station then rested opposite the message to be conveyed. Many crude systems of using lights for signaling were employed. Lines of watch-towers were arranged which served as signal-stations. The ruins of the old Roman and Gallic towers may still be found In France. Hannibal erected them in Africa and Spain. Colored tunics and spears were also used for military signals in the daytime. For instance, a red tunic displayed meant prepare for battle; while a red spear conveyed the order to sack and devastate. An ancient system of camp signals from columns is especially interesting as showing a development away from the prearranged signals of limited application. For these camp signals the alphabet was divided into five or six parts, and a like number of columns erected at each signal-station. Each column represented one group of letters. Suppose that we should agree to get along without the Q and the Z and reduce our own alphabet to twenty-four letters for use in such a system. With six columns we would then have four letters for each column. The first column would be used to signal A, B, C, and D. One light or flag shown from column one would represent A, two flags or lights B, and so on. Thus any word could be spelled out and any message sent. Without doubt the system was slow and cumbersome, but it was a step in the right direction. The American Indians developed methods of transmitting news which compare very favorably with the means employed by the ancients. Smoke-rings and puffs for the daytime, and fire-arrows at night, were used by them for the sending of messages. Smoke signals are obtained by building a fire of moist materials. The Indian obtains his smoke-puffs by placing a blanket or robe over the fire, withdrawing it for an instant, and then replacing it quickly. In this way puffs of smoke may be sent aloft as frequently as desired. A column of smoke-puffs was used as a warning signal, its meaning being: Look out, the enemy is near. One smoke-puff was a signal for attention; two puffs indicated that the sender would camp at that place. Three puffs showed that the sender was in danger, as the enemy was near. Fire-arrows shot across the sky at night had a similar meaning. The head of the arrow was dipped in some highly inflammable substance and then set on fire at the instant before it was discharged from the bow. One fire-arrow shot into the sky meant that the enemy were near; two signaled danger, and three great danger. When the Indian shot many fire-arrows up in rapid succession he was signaling to his friends that his enemies were too many for him. Two arrows discharged into the air at the same time indicated that the party sending them was about to attack. Three indicated an immediate attack. A fire-arrow discharged diagonally across the sky indicated the direction in which the sender would travel. Such were the methods which the Indians used, working out different meanings for the signals in the various tribes. Very slight progress was made in message-sending in medieval times, and it was the middle of the seventeenth century before even signal systems were attained which were in any sense an improvement. For many centuries the people of the world existed, devising nothing better than the primitive methods outlined above. II SIGNALS PAST AND PRESENT Marine and Military Signals--Code Flags--Wig-wag--Semaphore Telegraphs--Heliographs--Ardois Signals--Submarine Signals. In naval affairs some kind of an effective signal system is imperative. Even in the ordinary evolutions of a fleet the commander needs some better way of communicating with the ship captains than despatching a messenger in a small boat. The necessity of quick and sure signals in time of battle is obvious. Yet for many centuries naval signals were of the crudest. The first distinct advance over the primitive methods by which the commander of one Roman galley communicated with another came with the introduction of cannon as a naval arm. The use of signal-guns was soon thought of, and war-ships used their guns for signal purposes as early as the sixteenth century. Not long after came the square-rigged ship, and it soon occurred to some one that signals could be made by dropping a sail from the yard-arm a certain number of times. Up to the middle of the seventeenth century the possibilities of the naval signal systems were limited indeed. Only a few prearranged orders and messages could be conveyed. Unlimited communication at a distance was still impossible, and there were no means of sending a message to meet an unforeseen emergency. So cumbersome were the signal systems in use that even though they would convey the intelligence desired, the speaking-trumpet or a courier was employed wherever possible. To the officers of the British navy of the seventeenth century belongs the credit for the first serious attempt to create a system of communication which would convey any and all messages. It is not clear whether Admiral Sir William Penn or James II. established the code. It was while he was Duke of York and the commander of Britain's navy, that the James who was later to be king took this part in the advancement of means of communication. Messages were sent by varying the position of a single signal flag. In 1780 Admiral Kempenfeldt thought of adding other signal flags instead of depending upon the varied positions of a single signal. From his plan the flag signals now in use by the navies of the world were developed. The basis of his system was the combining of distinct flags in pairs. The work of Admiral Philip Colomb marked another long step forward in signaling between ships. While a young officer he developed a night-signal system of flashing lights, still in use to some extent, and which bears his name. Colomb's most important contribution to the art of signaling was his realization of the utility of the code which Morse had developed in connection with the telegraph. Code flags, which are largely used between ships, have not been entirely displaced by the wireless. The usual naval code set consists of a set of alphabet flags and pennants, ten numeral flags, and additional special flags. This of course provides for spelling out any conceivable message by simply hoisting letter after letter. So slow a method is seldom used, however. Various combinations of letters and figures are used to indicate set terms or sentences set forth in the code-book. Thus the flags representing A and E, hoisted together, may be found on reference to the code-book to mean, "Weigh anchor." Each navy has its own secret code, which is carefully guarded lest it be discovered by a possible enemy. Naval code-books are bound with metal covers so that they may be thrown overboard in case a ship is forced to surrender. The international code is used by ships of all nations. It is the universal language of the sea, and by it sailors of different tongues may communicate through this common medium. Any message may be conveyed by a very few of the flags in combination. The wig-wag system, a favorite and familiar method of communication with every Boy Scout troop, is in use by both army and navy. The various letters of the alphabet are indicated by the positions in which the signaler holds his arms. Keeping the arms always forty-five degrees apart, it is possible to read the signals at a considerable distance. Navy signalers have become very efficient with this form of communication, attaining a speed of over fifteen words a minute. A semaphore is frequently substituted for the wig-wag flags both on land and on sea. Navy semaphores on big war-ships consist of arms ten or twelve feet long mounted at the masthead. The semaphore as a means of communication was extensively used on land commercially as well as by the army. A regular semaphore telegraph system, working in relays over considerable distances was in operation in France a century ago. Other semaphore telegraphs were developed in England. The introduction of the Morse code and its adaptation to signaling by sight and sound did much to simplify these means of communication. The development of signaling after the adoption of the Morse code, though it occurred subsequent to the introduction of the telegraph, may properly be spoken of here, since the systems dependent upon sight and sound grow from origins more primitive than those which depend upon electricity. Up to the middle of the nineteenth century armies had made slight progress in perfecting means of communication. The British army had no regular signal service until after the recommendations of Colomb proved their worth in naval affairs. The German army, whose systems of communication have now reached such perfection, did not establish an army signal service until 1902. The simplicity of the dot and dash of the Morse code makes it readily available for almost any form of signaling under all possible conditions. Two persons within sight of each other, who understand the code, may establish communication by waving the most conspicuous object at hand, using a short swing for a dot and a long swing for a dash. Two different shapes may also be exhibited, one representing a dot and the other a dash. The dot-and-dash system is also admirably adapted for night signaling. A search-light beam may be swung across the sky through short and long arcs, a light may be exhibited and hidden for short and long periods, and so on. Where the search-light may be played upon a cloud it may be seen for very considerable distances, messages having been sent forty miles by this means. Fog-horns, whistles, etc., may be similarly employed during fogs or amid thick smoke. A short blast represents a dot, and a long one a dash. The heliograph, which established communication by means of short and long light-flashes, is another important means of signaling to which the Morse code has been applied. This instrument catches the rays of the sun upon a mirror, and thence casts them to a distant receiving station. A small key which throws the mirror out of alignment serves to obscure the flashes for a space at the will of the sender, and so produces short or long flashes. The British army has made wide use of the heliograph in India and Africa. During the British-Boer War It formed the sole means of communication between besieged garrisons and the relief forces. Where no mountain ranges intervene and a bright sun is available, heliographic messages may be read at a distance of one hundred and fifty miles. While the British navy used flashing lights for night signals, the United States and most other navies adopted a system of fixed colored lights. The system in use in the United States Navy is known as the Ardois system. In this system the messages are sent by four lights, usually electric, which are suspended from a mast or yard-arm. The lights are manipulated by a keyboard situated at a convenient point on the deck. A red lamp is flashed to indicate a dot in the Morse code, while a white lamp indicates a dash. The Ardois system is also used by the Army. The perfection of wireless telegraphy has caused the Ardois and other signal systems depending upon sight or sound to be discarded in all but exceptional cases. The wig-wag and similar systems will probably never be entirely displaced by even such superior systems as wireless telegraphy. The advantage of the wig-wag lies in the fact that no apparatus is necessary and communication may thus be established for short distances almost instantly. Its disadvantages are lack of speed, impenetrability to dust, smoke, and fog, and the short ranges over which it may be operated. There is another form of sound-signaling which, though it has been developed in recent years, may properly be mentioned in connection with earlier signal systems of similar nature. This is the submarine signal. We have noted that much attention was paid to communication by sound-waves through the medium of the air from the earliest times. It was not until the closing years of the past century, however, that the superior possibilities of water as a conveyer of sound were recognized. Arthur J. Mundy, of Boston, happened to be on an American steamer on the Mississippi River in the vicinity of New Orleans. It was rumored that a Spanish torpedo-boat had evaded the United States war vessels and made its way up the great river. The general alarm and the impossibility of detecting the approach of another vessel set Mundy thinking. It seemed to him that there should be some way of communicating through the water and of listening for sounds underwater. He recalled his boyhood experiments in the old swimming-hole. He remembered how distinctly the sound of stones cracked together carried to one whose ears were beneath the surface. Thus the idea of underwater signaling was born. Mundy communicated this idea to Elisha Gray, and the two, working together, evolved a successful submarine signal system. It was on the last day of the nineteenth century that they were able to put their experiments into practical working form. Through a well in the center of the ship they suspended an eight-hundred-pound bell twenty feet beneath the surface of the sea. A receiving apparatus was located three miles distant, which consisted simply of an ear-trumpet connected to a gas-pipe lowered into the sea. The lower end of the pipe was sealed with a diaphragm of tin. When submerged six feet beneath the surface the strokes of the bell could be heard. Then a special electrical receiver of extreme sensitiveness, known as a microphone, was substituted and connected at the receiving station with an ordinary telephone receiver. With this receiving apparatus the strokes of the bell could be heard at a distance of over ten miles. This system has had a wide practical application for communication both between ship and ship and between ship and shore. Most transatlantic ships are now equipped with such a system. The transmitter consists of a large bell which is actuated either by compressed air or by an electro-magnetic system. This is so arranged that it may be suspended over the side of the ship and lowered well beneath the surface of the water. The receivers consist of microphones, one on each side of the ship. The telephone receivers connected to the two microphones are mounted close together on an instrument board on the bridge of the ship. The two instruments are used when it is desired to determine the direction from which the signals come. If the sound is stronger in the 'phone on the right-hand side of the ship the commander knows that the signals are coming from that direction. If the signals are from a ship in distress he may proceed toward it by turning his vessel until the sound of the signal-bell is equal in the two receivers. The ability to determine the direction from which the signal comes is especially valuable in navigating difficult channels in foggy weather. Signal-bells are located near lighthouses and dangerous reefs. Each calls its own number, and the vessel's commander may thus avoid obstructions and guide the ship safely into the harbor. The submarine signal is equally useful in enabling vessels to avoid collision in fogs. Because water conducts sound much better than air, submarine signals are far better than the fog-horn or whistles. The submarine signal system has also been applied to submarine war-ships. By this means alone may a submarine communicate with another, with a vessel on the surface, or with a shore station. An important and interesting adaptation of the marine signal was made to meet the submarine warfare of the great European conflict. At first it seemed that battle-ship and merchantman could find no way to locate the approach of an enemy submarine. But it was found that by means of the receiving apparatus of the submarine telephone an approaching submarine could be heard and located. While the sounds of the submarine's machinery are not audible above the water, the delicate microphone located beneath the water can detect them. Hearing a submarine approaching beneath the surface, the merchantman may avoid her and the destroyers and patrol-boats may take means to effect her capture. III FORERUNNERS OF THE TELEGRAPH From Lodestone to Leyden Jar--The Mysterious "C.M."--Spark and Frictional Telegraphs--The Electro-magnet--Davy and the Relay System. The thought and effort directed toward improving the means of communication brought but small results until man discovered and harnessed for himself a new servant--electricity. The story of the growth of modern means of communication is the story of the application of electricity to this particular one of man's needs. The stories of the Masters of Space are the stories of the men who so applied electricity that man might communicate with man. Some manifestations of electricity had been known since long before the Christian era. A Greek legend relates how a shepherd named Magnes found that his crook was attracted by a strange rock. Thus was the lodestone, the natural magnetic iron ore, discovered, and the legend would lead us to believe that the words magnet and magnetism were derived from the name of the shepherd who chanced upon this natural magnet and the strange property of magnetism. The ability of amber, when rubbed, to attract straws, was also known to the early peoples. How early this property was found, or how, we do not know. The name electricity is derived from _elektron_, the Greek name for amber. The early Chinese and Persians knew of the lodestone, and of the magnetic properties of amber after it has been rubbed briskly. The Romans were familiar with these and other electrical effects. The Romans had discovered that the lodestone would attract iron, though a stone wall intervened. They were fond of mounting a bit of iron on a cork floating in a basin of water and watch it follow the lodestone held in the hand. It is related that the early magicians used it as a means of transmitting intelligence. If a needle were placed upon a bit of cork and the whole floated in a circular vessel with the alphabet inscribed about the circle, one outside the room could cause the needle to point toward any desired letters in turn by stepping to the proper position with the lodestone. Thus a message could be sent to the magician inside and various feats of magic performed. Our own modern magicians are reported as availing themselves of the more modern applications of electricity in somewhat similar fashion and using small, easily concealed wireless telegraph or telephone sets for communication with their confederates off the stage. The idea of encircling a floating needle with the alphabet was developed into the sympathetic telegraph of the sixteenth century, which was based on a curious error. It was supposed that needles which had been touched by the same lodestone were sympathetic, and that if both were free to move one would imitate the movements of another, though they were at a distance. Thus, if one needle were attracted toward one letter after the other, and the second similarly mounted should follow its movements, a message might readily be spelled out. Of course the second needle would not follow the movements of the first, and so the sympathetic telegraph never worked, but much effort was expended upon it. In the mean time others had learned that many substances besides amber, on being rubbed, possessed magnetic properties. Machines by which electricity could be produced in greater quantities by friction were produced and something was learned of conductors. Benjamin Franklin sent aloft his historic kite and found that electricity came down the silken cord. He demonstrated that frictional and atmospheric electricity are the same. Franklin and others sent the electric charge along a wire, but it did not occur to them to endeavor to apply this to sending messages. Credit for the first suggestion of an electric telegraph must be given to an unknown writer of the middle eighteenth century. In the _Scots Magazine_ for February 17, 1755, there appeared an article signed simply, "C.M.," which suggested an electric telegraph. The writer's idea was to lay an insulated wire for each letter of the alphabet. The wires could be charged from an electrical machine in any desired order, and at the receiving end would attract disks of paper marked with the letter which that wire represented, and so any message could be spelled out. The identity of "C.M." has never been established, but he was probably Charles Morrison, a Scotch surgeon with a reputation for electrical experimentation, who later emigrated to Virginia. Of course "C.M.'s" telegraph was not practical, because of the many wires required, but it proved to be a fertile suggestion which was followed by many other thinkers. One experimenter after another added an improvement or devised a new application. A French scientist devised a telegraph which it is suspected might have been practical, but he kept his device secret, and, as Napoleon refused to consider it, it never was put to a test. An Englishman devised a frictional telegraph early in the last century and endeavored to interest the Admiralty. He was told that the semaphore was all that was required for communication. Another submitted a similar system to the same authorities in 1816, and was told that "telegraphs of any kind are now wholly unnecessary." An American inventor fared no better, for one Harrison Gray Dyar, of New York, was compelled to abandon his experiments on Long Island and flee because he was accused of conspiracy to carry on secret communication, which sounded very like witchcraft to our forefathers. His telegraph sent signals by having the electric spark transmitted by the wire decompose nitric acid and so record the signals on moist litmus paper. It seems altogether probable that had not the discovery of electro-magnetism offered improved facilities to those seeking a practical telegraph, this very chemical telegraph might have been put to practical use. In the early days of the nineteenth century the battery had come into being, and thus a new source of electric current was available for the experimenters. Coupled with this important discovery in its effect upon the development of the telegraph was the discovery of electro-magnetism. This was the work of Hans Christian Oersted, a native of Denmark. He first noticed that a current flowing through a wire would deflect a compass, and thus discovered the magnetic properties of the electric current. A Frenchman named Ampère, experimenting further, discovered that when the electric current is sent through coils of wire the magnetism is increased. The possibility of using the deflection of a magnetic needle by an electric current passing through a wire as a means of conveying intelligence was quickly grasped by those who were striving for a telegraph. Experiments with spark and chemical telegraphs were superseded by efforts with this new discovery. Ampère, acting upon the suggestion of La Place, an eminent mathematician, published a plan for a feasible telegraph. This was later improved upon by others, and it was still early in the nineteenth century that a model telegraph was exhibited in London. About this time two professors at the University of Göttingen were experimenting with telegraphy. They established an experimental line between their laboratories, using at first a battery. Then Faraday discovered that an electric current could be generated in a wire by the motion of a magnet, thus laying the basis for the modern dynamo. Professors Gauss and Weber, who were operating the telegraph line at Göttingen, adapted this new discovery to their needs. They sent the message by moving a magnetic key. A current was thus generated in the line, and, passing over the wire and through a coil at the farther end, moved a magnet suspended there. The magnet moved to the right or left, depending on the direction of the current sent through the wire. A tiny mirror was mounted on the receiving magnet to magnify its movement and so render it more readily visible. One Steinheil, of Munich, simplified it and added a call-bell. He also devised a recording telegraph in which the moving needle at the receiving station marked down its message in dots and dashes on a ribbon of paper. He was the first to utilize the earth for the return circuit, using a single wire for despatching the electric current used in signaling and allowing it to return through the ground. In 1837, the same year in which Wheatstone and Morse were busy perfecting their telegraphs, as we shall see, Edward Davy exhibited a needle telegraph in London. Davy also realized that the discoveries of Arago could be used in improving the telegraph and making it practical. Arago discovered that the current passing through a coil of wire served to magnetize temporarily a piece of soft iron within it. It was this principle upon which Morse was working at this time. Davy did not carry his suggestions into effect, however. He emigrated to Australia, and the interruption in his experiments left the field open for those who were finally to bring the telegraph into usable form. Davy's greatest contribution to telegraphy was the relay system by which very weak currents could call into play strong currents from a local battery, and so make the signals apparent at the receiving station. IV INVENTIONS OF SIR CHARLES WHEATSTONE Wheatstone and His Enchanted Lyre--Wheatstone and Cooke--First Electric Telegraph Line Installed--The Capture of the "Kwaker"--The Automatic Transmitter. Before we come to the story of Samuel F.B. Morse and the telegraph which actually proved a commercial success as the first practical carrier of intelligence which had been created for the service of man, we should pause to consider the achievements of Charles Wheatstone. Together with William Fothergill Cooke, another Englishman, he developed a telegraph line that, while it did not attain commercial success, was the first working telegraph placed at the service of the public. Charles Wheatstone was born near Gloucester in 1802. Having completed his primary schooling, Charles was apprenticed to his uncle, who was a maker and seller of musical instruments. He showed little aptitude either in the workshop or in the store, and much preferred to continue the study of books. His father eventually took him from his uncle's charge and allowed him to follow his bent. He translated poetry from the French at the age of fifteen, and wrote some verse of his own. He spent all the money he could secure on books. Becoming interested in a book on Volta's experiments with electricity, he saved up his coppers until he could purchase it. It was in French, and he found the technical descriptions rather too difficult for his comprehension, so that he was forced to save again to buy a French-English dictionary. With the aid of this he mastered the volume. Immediately his attention was turned toward the wonders of the infant science of electricity, and he eagerly endeavored to perform the experiments described. Aided by his older brother, he set to work on a battery as a source of current. Running short of funds with which to purchase copper plates, he again began to save his pennies. Then the idea occurred to him to use the pennies themselves, and his first battery was soon complete. He continued his experiments in various fields until, at the age of nineteen, he first brought himself to public notice with his enchanted lyre. This he placed on exhibition in music-shops in London. It consisted of a small lyre suspended from the ceiling which gave forth, in turn, the sounds of various musical instruments. Really the lyre was merely a sounding-box, and the vibrations of the music were conveyed from instruments, played in the next room, to the lyre through a steel rod. The young man spent much time experimenting with the transmission of sound. Having conveyed music through the steel rod to his enchanted lyre, much to the mystification of the Londoners, he proposed to transmit sounds over a considerable distance by this method. He estimated that sound could be sent through steel rods at the rate of two hundred miles a second and suggested the use of such a rod as a telegraph between London and Edinburgh. He called his arrangement a telephone. A scientific writer of the day, commenting in a scientific journal on the enchanted lyre which Wheatstone had devised, suggested that it might be used to render musical concerts audible at a distance. Thus an opera performed in a theater might be conveyed through rods to other buildings in the vicinity and there reproduced. This was never accomplished, and it remained for our own times to accomplish this and even greater wonders. Wheatstone also devised an instrument for increasing feeble sound, which he called a microphone. This consisted of a pair of rods to convey the sound vibrations to the ears, and does not at all resemble the modern electrical microphone. Other inventions in the transmission and reproduction of sound followed, and he devoted no little attention to the construction of improved musical instruments. He even made some efforts to produce a practical talking-machine, and was convinced that one would be attained. At thirty-two he was widely famed as a scientist and had been made a professor of experimental physics in King's College, London. His most notable work at this time was measuring the speed of the electric current, which up to that time had been supposed to be instantaneous. By 1835 Wheatstone had abandoned his plans for transmitting sounds through long rods of metal and was studying the telegraph. He experimented with instruments of his own and proposed a line across the Thames. It was in 1836 that Mr. Cooke, an army officer home on leave, became interested in the telegraph and devoted himself to putting it on a working basis. He had already exhibited a crude set when he came to Wheatstone, realizing his own lack of scientific knowledge. The two men finally entered into partnership, Wheatstone contributing the scientific and Cooke the business ability to the new enterprise. The partnership was arranged late in 1837, and a patent taken out on Wheatstone's five-needle telegraph. In this telegraph a magnetic needle was located within a loop formed by the telegraph circuit at the receiving end. When the circuit was closed the needle was deflected to one side or the other, according to the direction of the current. Five separate circuits and needles were used, and a variety of signals could thus be sent. Five wires, with a sixth return wire, were used in the first experimental line erected in London in 1837. So in the year when Morse was constructing his models Wheatstone and Cooke were operating an experimental line, crude and impracticable though it was, and enjoying the sensations of communicating with each other at a distance. In 1841 the telegraph was placed on public exhibition at so much a head, but it was viewed as an entertaining novelty without utility by the public at large. After many disappointments the inventors secured the cooperation of the Great Western Railroad, and a line was erected for a distance of thirteen miles. But the public would not patronise the line until its utility was strikingly demonstrated by the capture of the "Kwaker." Early one morning a woman was found dead in her home in the suburbs of London. A man had been observed leaving the house, and his appearance had been noted. Inquiries revealed that a man answering his description had left on the slow train for London. Without the telegraph he could not have been apprehended. But the telegraph was available at this point, and his description was telegraphed ahead and the police in London were instructed to arrest him upon his arrival. "He is dressed as a Quaker," ran the message. There was no Q in the alphabet of-the five-needle instrument, and so the sender spelled Quaker, Kwaker. The clerk at the receiving end could not-understand the strange word, and asked to have it repeated again and again. Finally some one suggested that the message be completed and the whole was then deciphered. When the man dressed as a Quaker stepped from the slow train on his arrival at London the police were awaiting him; he was arrested and eventually confessed the murder. The news of this capture and the part the telegraph played gave striking proof of the utility of the new invention, and public skepticism and indifference were overcome. By 1845 Wheatstone had so improved his apparatus that but one wire was required. The single-needle instrument pointed out the letters on the dial around it by successive deflections in which it was arranged to move, step by step, at the will of the sending station. The single-needle instrument, though generally displaced by Morse's telegraph, remained in use for a long time on some English lines. Wheatstone had also invented a type-printing telegraph, which he patented in 1841. This required two circuits. With a working telegraph attained, the partners became involved in an altercation as to which deserved the honor of inventing the same. The quarrel was finally submitted to two famous scientists for arbitration. They reported that the telegraph was the result of their joint labors. To Wheatstone belongs the credit for devising the apparatus; to Cooke for introducing it and placing it before the public in working form. Here we see the combination of the man of science and the man of business, each contributing needed talents for the establishment of a great invention on a working basis. Wheatstone's researches in the field of electricity were constant. In 1840 he devised a magnetic clock and proposed a plan by which many clocks, located at different points, could be set at regular intervals with the aid of electricity. Such a system was the forerunner of the electrically wound and regulated clocks with which we are now so familiar. He also devised a method for measuring the resistance which wires offer to the passage of an electric current. This is known as Wheatstone's bridge and is still in use in every electrical and physical laboratory. He also invented a sound telegraph by which signals were transmitted by the strokes of a bell operated by the current at the receiving end of the circuit. The invention of Wheatstone's which proved to be of greatest lasting importance in connection with the telegraph was the automatic transmitter. By this system the message is first punched in a strip of paper which, when passed through the sending instrument, transmits the message. By this means he was able to send messages at the rate of one hundred words a minute. This automatic transmitter is much used for press telegrams where duplicate messages are to be sent to various points. The automatic transmitter brought knighthood to its inventor, Wheatstone receiving this honor in 1868. Wheatstone took an active part in the development of the telegraph and the submarine cable up to the time of his death in 1875. Wheatstone's telegraph would have served the purposes of humanity and probably have been universally adopted, had not a better one been invented almost before it was established. And it is because Morse, taking up the work where others had left off, was able to invent an instrument which so fully satisfied the requirements of man for so long a period that he is known to all of us as the inventor of the telegraph. And yet, without belittling the part played by Morse, we must recognize the important work accomplished by Sir Charles Wheatstone. V THE ACHIEVEMENT OF MORSE Morse's Early Life--Artistic Aspirations--Studies in Paris--His Paintings--Beginnings of His Invention--The First Instrument--The Morse Code--The First Written Message. When we consider the youth and immaturity of America in the first half of the nineteenth century, it seems the more remarkable that the honor of making the first great practical application of electricity should have been reserved for an American. With the exception of the isolated work of Franklin, the development of the new science of electrical learning was the work of Europeans. This was natural, for it was Europe which was possessed of the accumulated wealth and learning which are usually attained only by older civilizations. Yet, with all these advantages, electricity remained largely a scientific plaything. It was an American who fully recognized the possibilities of this new force as a servant of man, and who was possessed of the practical genius and the business ability to devise and introduce a thoroughly workable system of rapid and certain communication. We have seen that Wheatstone was early trained as a musician. Samuel Morse began life as an artist. But while Wheatstone early indicated his lack of interest in music and devoted himself to scientific studies while yet a youth, Morse's artistic career was of his own choosing, and he devoted himself to it for many years. This explains the fact that Wheatstone attained much scientific success before Morse, though he was eleven years his junior. It was in 1791 that Samuel Morse was born. Samuel Finley Breese Morse was the entire name with which he was endowed by his parents. He came from the sturdiest of Puritan stock, his father being of English and his mother of Scotch descent. His father was an eminent divine, and also notable as a geographer, being the author of the first American geography of importance. His mother also was possessed of unusual talent and force. It is interesting to note that Samuel Morse first saw the light in Charlestown, Massachusetts, at the foot of Breed's Hill, but little more than a mile from the birthplace of Benjamin Franklin. He came into the world about a year after Franklin died. It is interesting to believe that some of the practical talent of America's first great electrician in some way descended to Samuel Morse. He received an unusual education. At the age of seven he was sent to a school at Andover, Massachusetts, to prepare him for Phillips Academy. At the academy he was prepared for Yale College, which he entered when fifteen years of age. With the knowledge of science so small at the time, collegiate instruction in such subjects was naturally meager in the extreme. Jeremiah Day was then professor of natural philosophy at Yale, and was probably America's ablest teacher of the subject. His lectures upon electricity and the experiments with which he illustrated them aroused the interest of Morse, as we learn from the letters he wrote to his parents at this time. One principle in particular impressed Morse. This was that "if the electric circuit be interrupted at any place the fluid will become visible, and when it passes it will leave an impression upon any intermediate body." Thus was it stated in the text-book in use at Yale at that time. More than a score of years after the telegraph had been achieved Morse wrote: The fact that the presence of electricity can be made visible in any desired part of the circuit was the crude seed which took root in my mind, and grew into form, and ripened into the invention of the telegraph. We shall later hear of the occasion which recalled this bit of information to Morse's mind. But though Yale College was at that time a center of scientific activity, and Morse showed more than a little interest in electricity and chemistry, his major interest remained art. He eagerly looked forward to graduation that he might devote his entire time to the study of painting. It is significant of the tolerance and breadth of vision of his parents that they apparently put no bars in the path of this ambition, though they had sacrificed to give him the best of collegiate trainings that he might fit himself for the ministry, medicine, or the law. As a boy of fifteen Samuel Morse had painted water-colors that attracted attention, and he was possessed of enough talent to paint miniatures while at Yale which were salable at five dollars apiece, and so aided in defraying his college expenses. After his graduation from Yale in 1810, Morse devoted himself entirely to the study of art, still being dependent upon his parents for support. He secured the friendship and became the pupil of Washington Allston, then a foremost American painter. In the summer of 1811 Allston sailed for England, and Morse accompanied him. In London he came to the attention of Benjamin West, then at the height of his career, and benefited by his advice and encouragement. That he had no ambition other than his art at this period we may learn from a letter he wrote to his mother in 1812. My passion for my art [he wrote] is so firmly rooted that I am confident no human power could destroy it. The more I study the greater I think is its claim to the appellation divine. I am now going to begin a picture of the death of Hercules, the figure to be large as life. When he had completed this picture to his own satisfaction, he showed it to West. "Go on and finish it," was West's comment. "But it is finished," said Morse. "No, no. See here, and here, and here are places you can improve it." Morse went to work upon his painting again, only to meet the same comment when he again showed it to West. This happened again and again. When the youth had finally brought it to a point where West was convinced it was the very best Morse could do he had learned a lesson in thoroughness and painstaking attention to detail that he never forgot. That he might have a model for his painting Morse had molded a figure of Hercules in clay. At the advice of West he entered the cast in a competition for a prize in sculpture, with the result that he received the prize and a gold medal for his work. He then plunged into the competition for a prize and medal offered by the Royal Academy for the best historical painting. His subject was, "The Judgment of Jupiter in the Case of Apollo, Marpessa, and Idas." Though he completed the picture to the satisfaction of West, Morse was not able to remain in London and enter it in the competition. The rules required that the artist be present in person if he was to receive the prize, but Morse was forced to return to America. He had been in England for four years--a year longer than had originally been planned for him--and he was out of funds, and his parents could support him no longer. Morse lived in London during the War of 1812, but seems to have suffered no annoyance other than that of poverty, which the war intensified by raising the prices of food as well as his necessary artist's materials to an almost prohibitive figure. The last of the Napoleonic wars was also in progress. News of the battle of Waterloo reached London but a short time before Morse sailed for America. It required two days for the news to reach the English capital. The young American, whose inability to sell his paintings was driving him from London, was destined to devise a system which would have carried the great news to its destination within a few seconds. But while he gained fame in America and secured praise and attention as he had in London, he found art no more profitable. He contrived to eke out an existence by painting an occasional portrait, going from town to town in New England for this purpose. He turned from art to invention for a time, joining with his brother in devising a fire-engine pump of an improved pattern. They secured a patent upon it, but could not sell it. He turned again to the life of a wandering painter of portraits. In 1818 he went to Charleston, South Carolina, at the invitation of his uncle. His portraits proved very popular and he was soon occupied with work at good prices. This prosperity enabled him to take unto himself a wife, and the same year he married Lucretia Walker, of Concord, New Hampshire. After four years in the South Morse returned to the North, hoping that larger opportunities would now be ready for him. The result was again failure. He devoted his time to huge historical paintings, and the public would neither buy them nor pay to see them when they were exhibited. Another blow fell upon him in 1825 when his wife died. At last he began to secure more sitters for his portraits, though his larger works still failed. He assisted in the organization of the National Academy of Design and became its first president. In 1829 he again sailed for Europe to spend three years in study in the galleries of Paris and Rome. Still he failed to attain any real success in his chosen work. He had made many friends and done much worthy work, yet there is little probability that he would have attained lasting fame as an artist even though his energies had not been turned to other interests. It was on the packet ship _Sully_, crossing the Atlantic from France, that Morse conceived the telegraph which was to prove the first great practical application of electricity. One noon as the passengers were gathered about the luncheon-table, a Dr. Charles T. Jackson, of Boston, exhibited an electro-magnet he had secured in Europe, and described certain electrical experiments he had seen while in Paris. He was asked concerning the speed of electricity through a wire, and replied that, according to Faraday, it was practically instantaneous. The discussion recalled to Morse his own collegiate studies in electricity, and he remarked that if the circuit were interrupted the current became visible, and that it occurred to him that these flashes might be used as a means of communication. The idea of using the current to carry messages became fixed in his mind, and he pondered, over it during the remaining weeks of the long, slow voyage. Doctor Jackson claimed, after Morse had perfected and established his telegraph, that the idea had been his own, and that Morse had secured it from him on board the _Sully_. But Doctor Jackson was not a practical man who either could or did put any ideas he may have had to practical use. At the most he seems to have simply started Morse's mind along a new train of thought. The idea of using the current as a carrier of messages, though it was new to Morse, had occurred to others earlier, as we have seen. But at the very outset Morse set himself to find a means by which he might make the current not only signal the message, but actually record it. Before he landed from the _Sully_ he had worked out sketches of a printing telegraph. In this the current actuated an electro-magnet on the end of which was a rod. This rod was to mark down dots and dashes on a moving tape of paper. Thus was the idea born. Of course the telegraph was still far from an accomplished fact. Without the improved electro-magnets and the relay of Professor Henry, Morse had not yet even the basic ideas upon which a telegraph to operate over considerable distances could be constructed. But Morse was possessed of Yankee imagination and practical ability. He was possessed of a fair technical education for that day, and he eagerly set himself to attaining the means to accomplish his end. That he realized just what he sought is shown by his remark to the captain of the _Sully_ when he landed at New York. "Well, Captain," he remarked, "should you hear of the telegraph one of these days as the wonder of the world, remember that the discovery was made on board the good ship _Sully_." With the notion of using an electro-magnet as a receiver, an alphabet consisting of dots and dashes, and a complete faith in the practical possibilities of the whole, Morse went to work in deadly earnest. But poverty still beset him and it was necessary for him to devote most of his time to his paintings, that he might have food, shelter, and the means to buy materials with which to experiment. From 1832 to 1835 he was able to make but small progress. In the latter year he secured an appointment as professor of the literature of the arts of design in the newly established University of the City of New York. He soon had his crude apparatus set up in a room at the college and in 1835 was able to transmit messages. He now had a little more leisure and a little more money, but his opportunities were still far from what he would have desired. The principal aid which came to him at the university was from Professor Gale, a teacher of chemistry. Gale became greatly interested in Morse's apparatus, and was able to give him much practical assistance, becoming a partner in the enterprise. Morse knew little of the work of other experimenters in the field of electricity and Gale was able to tell Morse what had been learned by others. Particularly he brought to Morse's attention the discoveries of another American, Prof. Joseph Henry. The electro-magnet which actuated the receiving instrument in the crude set in use by Morse in 1835 had but a few turns of thick wire. Professor Henry, by his experiments five years earlier, had demonstrated that many turns of small wire made the electro-magnet far more sensitive. Morse made this improvement in his own apparatus. In 1832 Henry had devised a telegraph very similar to that of Morse by which he signaled through a mile of wire. His receiving apparatus was an electro-magnet, the armature of which struck a bell. Thus the messages were read by sound, instead of being recorded on a moving strip of paper as by Morse's system. While Henry was possibly the ablest of American electricians at that time, he devoted himself entirely to science and made no effort to put his devices to practical use. Neither did he endeavor to profit by his inventions, for he secured no patents upon them. Professor Henry realized, in common with Morse and others, that if the current were to be conducted over long wires for considerable distances it would become so weak that it would not operate a receiver. Henry avoided this difficulty by the invention of what is known as the relay. At a distance where the current has become weak because of the resistance of the wire and losses due to faulty insulation, it will still operate a delicate electro-magnet with a very light armature so arranged as to open and close a local circuit provided with suitable batteries. Thus the recording instrument may be placed on the local circuit and as the local circuit an opened and closed in unison with the main circuit, the receiver can be operated. It was the relay which made it possible to extend telegraph lines to a considerable distance. It is not altogether clear whether Morse adopted Henry's relay or devised it for himself. It is believed, however, that Professor Henry explained the relay to Professor Gale, who in turn placed it before his partner, Morse. By 1837 Morse had completed a model, had improved his apparatus, had secured stronger batteries and longer wires, and mastered the use of the relay. It was in this year that the House of Representatives ordered the Secretary of the Treasury to investigate the feasibility of establishing a system of telegraphs. This action urged Morse to complete his apparatus and place it before the Government. He was still handicapped by lack of money, lack of scientific knowledge, and the difficulty of securing necessary materials and devices. To-day the experimenter may buy wire, springs, insulators, batteries, and almost anything that might be useful. Morse, with scanty funds and limited time, had to search for his materials and puzzle out the way to make each part for himself with such crude tools as he had available. Need we wonder that his progress was slow? Instead we should wonder that, despite all discouragements and handicaps, he clung to his great idea and labored on. But assistance was to come to him in this same eventful year of 1837, and that quite unexpectedly. On a Saturday in September a young man named Alfred Vail wandered into Professor Gale's laboratory. Morse was there engaged in exhibiting his model to an English professor then visiting in New York. The youth was deeply impressed with what he saw. He realized that here were possibilities of an instrument that would be of untold service to mankind. Asking Professor Morse whether he intended to experiment with a longer line, he was informed that such was his intention as soon as he could secure the means. Young Vail replied that he thought he could secure the money if Morse would admit him as a partner. To this Morse assented. Vail plunged into the enterprise with all the enthusiasm of youth. That very evening he studied over the commercial possibilities, and before he retired had marked out on the maps in his atlas the routes for the most needed lines of communication. The young man applied to his father for support. The senior Vail was the head of the Speedwell Iron Works at Morristown, New Jersey, and was a man of unusual enterprise and ability. He determined to back his son in the enterprise, and Morse was invited to come and exhibit his model. Two thousand dollars was needed to make the necessary instruments and secure the patents. On September 23, 1837, the agreement was drawn up by the terms of which Alfred Vail was, at his own expense, to construct apparatus suitable for exhibition to Congress and to secure a patent. In return he was to receive a one-fourth interest. Very shortly afterward they filed a caveat in the Patent Office, which is a notice serving to protect an impending invention. Alfred Vail immediately set to work on the apparatus, his only helper being a fifteen-year-old apprentice boy named William Baxter. The two worked early and late for many months in a secret room in the iron-works, being forced to fashion every part for themselves. The first machine was a copy of Morse's model, but Vail's native ability as a mechanic and his own ingenuity enabled him to make many improvements. The pencil fastened to the armature which had marked zigzag lines on the moving paper was replaced by a fountain-pen which inscribed long and short lines, and thus the dashes and dots of the Morse code were put into their present form. Morse had worked out an elaborate telegraphic code or dictionary, but a simpler code by which combinations of dots and dashes were used to represent letters instead of numbers in a code was now devised. Vail recognized the importance of having the simplest combinations of dots and dashes stand for the most used letters, as this would increase the speed of sending. He began to figure out for himself the frequency with which the various letters occur in the English language. Then he thought of the combination of types in a type-case, and, going to a local newspaper office, found the result all worked out for him. In each case of type such common letters as _e_ and _t_ have many more types than little used letters such as _q_ and _z_. By observing the number of types of each letter provided, Vail was enabled to arrange them in the order of their importance in assigning them symbols in the code. Thus the Morse code was arranged as it stands to-day. Alfred Vail played a very important part in the arrangement of the code as well as in the construction of the apparatus, and there are many who believe that the code should have been called the Vail code instead of the Morse code. [Illustration: MORSE'S FIRST TELEGRAPH INSTRUMENT A pen was attached to the pendulum and drawn across the strip of paper by the action of the electro-magnet. The lead type shown in the lower right-hand corner was used in making electrical contact when sending a message. The modern instrument shown in the lower left-hand corner is the one that sent a message around the world in 1896.] Morse came down to Speedwell when he could to assist Vail with the work, and yet it progressed slowly. But at last, early in January of 1838 they had the telegraph at work, and William Baxter, the apprentice boy, was sent to call the senior Vail. Within a few moments he was in the work-room studying the apparatus. Alfred Vail was at the sending key, and Morse was at the receiver. The father wrote on a piece of paper these words: "A patient waiter is no loser." Handing it to his son, he stated that if he could transmit the message to Morse by the telegraph he would be convinced. The message was sent and recorded and instantly read by Morse. The first test had been completed successfully. VI "WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT?" Congress Becomes Interested--Washington to Baltimore Line Proposed--Failure to Secure Foreign Patents--Later Indifference of Congress--Lean Years--Success at Last--The Line is Built--The First Public Message--Popularity. Morse and his associates now had a telegraph which they were confident would prove a genuine success. But the great work of introducing this new wonder to the public, of overcoming indifference and skepticism, of securing financial support sufficient to erect a real line, still remained to be done. We shall see that this burden remained very largely upon Morse himself. Had Morse not been a forceful and able man of affairs as well as an inventor, the introduction of the telegraph might have been even longer delayed. The new telegraph was exhibited in New York and Philadelphia without arousing popular appreciation. It was viewed as a scientific toy; few saw in it practical possibilities. Morse then took it to Washington and set up his instruments in the room of the Committee on Commerce of the House of Representatives in the Capitol. Here, as in earlier exhibitions, a majority of those who saw the apparatus in operation remained unconvinced of its ability to serve mankind. But Morse finally made a convert of the Hon. Francis O.J. Smith, chairman of the Committee on Commerce. Smith had previously been in correspondence with the inventor, and Morse had explained to him at length his belief that the Government should own the telegraph and control and operate it for the public good. He believed that the Government should be sufficiently interested to provide funds for an experimental line a hundred miles long. In return he was willing to promise the Government the first rights to purchase the invention at a reasonable price. Later he changed his request to a line of fifty miles, and estimated the cost of erection at $26,000. Smith aided in educating the other members of his committee, and one day in February of 1838 he secured the attendance of the entire body at a test of the telegraph over ten miles of wire. The demonstration convinced them, and many were their expressions of wonder and amazement. One member remarked, "Time and space are now annihilated." As a result the committee reported a bill appropriating $30,000 for the erection of an experimental line between Washington and Baltimore. Smith's report was most enthusiastic in his praise of the invention. In fact, the Congressman became so much interested that he sought a share in the enterprise, and, securing it, resigned from Congress that he might devote his efforts to securing the passage of the bill and to acting as legal adviser. At this time the enterprise was divided into sixteen shares: Morse held nine; Smith, four; Alfred Vail, two; and Professor Gale, one. We see that Morse was a good enough business man to retain the control. Wheatstone and others were developing their telegraphs in Europe, and Morse felt that it was high time to endeavor to secure foreign patents on his invention. Accompanied by Smith, he sailed for England in May, taking with him a new instrument provided by Vail. Arriving in London, they made application for a patent. They were opposed by Wheatstone and his associates, and could not secure even a hearing from the patent authorities. Morse strenuously insisted that his telegraph was radically different from Wheatstone's, laying especial emphasis on the fact that his recording instrument printed the message in permanent form, while Wheatstone's did not. Morse always placed great emphasis on the recording features of his apparatus, yet these features were destined to be discarded in America when his telegraph at last came into use. With no recourse open to him but an appeal to Parliament, a long and expensive proceeding with little apparent possibility of success, Morse went to France, hoping for a more favorable reception. He found the French cordial and appreciative. French experts watched his tests and examined his apparatus, pronouncing his telegraph the best of all that had been devised. He received a patent, only to learn that to be effective the invention must be put in operation in France within two years, under the French patent law. Morse sought to establish his line in connection with a railway, as Wheatstone had established his in England, but was told that the telegraph must be a Government monopoly, and that no private parties could construct or operate. The Government would not act, and Morse found himself again defeated. Faring no better with other European governments, Morse decided to return to America to push the bill for an appropriation before Congress. While Morse was in Europe gaining publicity for the telegraph, but no patents, his former fellow-passenger on the _Sully_, Dr. Charles Jackson, had laid claim to a share in the invention. He insisted that the idea had been his and that he had given it to Morse on the trip across the Atlantic. This Morse indignantly denied. Congress would now take no action upon the invention. A heated political campaign was in progress, and no interest could be aroused in an invention, no matter what were its possibilities in the advancement of the work and development of the nation. Smith was in politics, the Vails were suffering from a financial depression, Professor Gale was a man of very limited means, and so Morse found himself without funds or support. In Paris he had met M. Daguerre, who had just discovered photography. Morse had learned the process and, in connection with Doctor Draper, he fitted up a studio on the roof of the university. Here they took the first daguerreotypes made in America. Morse's work in art had been so much interrupted that he had but few pupils. The fees that these brought to him were small and irregular, and he was brought to the very verge of starvation. We are told of the call Morse made upon one pupil whose tuition was overdue because of a delay in the arrival of funds from his home. "Well, my boy," said the professor, "how are we off for money?" The student explained the situation, adding that he hoped to have the money the following week. "Next week!" exclaimed Morse. "I shall be dead by next week--dead of starvation." "Would ten dollars be of any service?" asked the student, astonished and distressed. "Ten dollars would save my life," was Morse's reply. The student paid the money--all he had--and they dined together, Morse remarking that it was his first meal for twenty-four hours. Morse's situation and feelings at this time are also illustrated by a letter he wrote to Smith late in 1841. I find myself [he wrote] without sympathy or help from any who are associated with me, whose interests, one would think, would impell them to at least inquire if they could render me some assistance. For nearly two years past I have devoted all my time and scanty means, living on a mere pittance, denying myself all pleasures and even necessary food, that I might have a sum, to put my telegraph into such a position before Congress as to insure success to the common enterprise. I am crushed for want of means, and means of so trifling a character, too, that they who know how to ask (which I do not) could obtain in a few hours.... As it is, although everything is favorable, although I have no competition and no opposition--on the contrary, although every member of Congress, so far as I can learn, is favorable--yet I fear all will fail because I am too poor to risk the trifling expense which my journey and residence in Washington will occasion me. I will not run in debt, if I lose the whole matter. No one can tell the days and months of anxiety and labor I have had in perfecting my telegraphic apparatus. For want of means I have been compelled to make with my own hands (and to labor for weeks) a piece of mechanism which could be made much better, and in a tenth the time, by a good mechanician, thus wasting time--time which I cannot recall and which seems double-winged to me. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick." It is true, and I have known the full meaning of it. Nothing but the consciousness that I have an invention which is to mark an era in human civilization, and which is to contribute to the happiness of millions, would have sustained me through so many and such lengthened trials of patience in perfecting it. A patent on the telegraph had been issued to Morse in 1840. The issuance had been delayed at Morse's request, as he desired to first secure foreign patents, his own American rights being protected by the caveat he had filed. Although the commercial possibilities, and hence the money value of the telegraph had not been established, Morse was already troubled with the rival claims of those who sought to secure a share in his invention. While working and waiting and saving, Morse conceived the idea of laying telegraph wires beneath the water. He prepared a wire by wrapping it in hemp soaked in tar, and then covering the whole with rubber. Choosing a moonlight night in the fall of 1842, he submerged his cable in New York Harbor between Castle Garden and Governors Island. A few signals were transmitted and then the wire was carried away by a dragging anchor. Truly, misfortune seemed to dog Morse's footsteps. This seems to have been the first submarine cable, and in writing of it not long after Morse hazarded the then astonishing prediction that Europe and America would be linked by telegraphic cable. Failing to secure effective aid from his associates, Morse hung on grimly, fighting alone, and putting all of his strength and energy into the task of establishing an experimental line. It was during these years that he demonstrated his greatness to the full. His letters to the members of the Congressional Committee on Commerce show marked ability. They outline the practical possibilities very clearly. Morse realized not only the financial possibilities of his invention, but its benefit to humanity as well. He also presented very practical estimates of the cost of establishing the line under consideration. The committee again recommended that $30,000 be appropriated for the construction of a Washington-Baltimore line. The politicians had come to look upon Morse as a crank, and it was extremely difficult for his adherents to secure favorable action in the House. Many a Congressman compared Morse and his experiments to mesmerism and similar "isms," and insisted that if the Government gave funds for this experiment it would be called upon to supply funds for senseless trials of weird schemes. The bill finally passed the House by the narrow margin of six votes, the vote being taken orally because so many Congressmen feared to go on record as favoring an appropriation for such a purpose. The bill had still to pass the Senate, and here there seemed little hope. Morse, who had come to Washington to press his plan, anxiously waited in the galleries. The bill came up for consideration late one evening just before the adjournment. A Senator who noticed Morse went up to him and said: "There is no use in your staying here. The Senate is not in sympathy with your project. I advise you to give it up, return home, and think no more about it." The inventor went back to his room, with how heavy a heart we may well imagine. He paid his board bill, and found himself with but thirty-seven cents in the world. After many moments of earnest prayer he retired. Early next morning there came to him Miss Annie Ellsworth, daughter of his friend the Commissioner of Patents, and said, "Professor, I have come to congratulate you." "Congratulate me!" replied Morse. "On what?" "Why," she exclaimed, "on the passage of your bill by the Senate!" The bill had been passed without debate in the closing moments of the session. As Morse afterward stated, this was the turning-point in the history of the telegraph. His resources were reduced to the minimum, and there was little likelihood that he would have again been able to bring the matter to the attention of Congress. So pleased was Morse over the news of the appropriation, and so grateful to Miss Ellsworth for her interest in bringing him the good news, that he promised her that she should send the first message when the line was complete. With the Government appropriation at his disposal, Morse immediately set to work upon the Washington-Baltimore line. Professors Gale and Fisher served as his assistants, and Mr. Vail was in direct charge of the construction work. Another person active in the enterprise was Ezra Cornell, who was later to found Cornell University. Cornell had invented a machine for laying wires underground in a pipe. It was originally planned to place the wires underground, as this was thought necessary or their protection. After running the line some five miles out from Baltimore it was found that this method of installing the line was to be a failure. The insulation was not adequate, and the line could not be operated to the first relay station. A large portion of the $30,000 voted by Congress had been spent and the line was still far from completion. Disaster seemed imminent. Smith lost all faith in the enterprise, demanded most of the remaining money under a contract he had taken to lay the line, and a quarrel broke out between him and Morse which further jeopardized the undertaking. Morse and such of his lieutenants as remained faithful in this hour of trial, after a long consultation, decided to string the wire on poles. The method of attaching the wire to the poles was yet to be determined. They finally decided to simply bore a hole through each pole near the top and push the wire through it. Stringing the wire in such fashion was no small task, but it was finally accomplished. It was later found necessary to insulate the wire with bottle necks where it passed through the poles. On May 23, 1844, the line was complete. Remembering his promise to Miss Ellsworth, Morse called upon her next morning to give him the first message. She chose, "What hath God wrought?" and early on the morning of the 24th Morse sat at the transmitter in the Supreme Court room in the Capitol and telegraphed these immortal words to Vail at Baltimore. The message was received without difficulty and repeated back to Morse at Washington. The magnetic telegraph was a reality. Still the general public remained unconvinced. As in the case of Wheatstone's needle telegraph a dramatic incident was needed to demonstrate the utility of this new servant. Fortunately for Morse, the telegraph's opportunity came quickly. The Democratic national convention was in session at Baltimore. After an exciting struggle they dropped Van Buren, then President, and nominated James K. Polk. Silas Wright was named for the Vice-Presidency. At that time Mr. Wright was in Washington. Hearing of the nomination, Alfred Vail telegraphed it to Morse in Washington. Morse communicated with Wright, who stated that he could not accept the honor. The telegraph was ready to carry his message declining the nomination, and within a very few minutes Vail had presented it to the convention at Baltimore, to the intense surprise of the delegates there assembled. They refused to believe that Wright had been communicated with, and sent a committee to Washington to see Wright and make inquiries. They found that the message was genuine, and the utility of the telegraph had been strikingly established. VII DEVELOPMENT OF THE TELEGRAPH SYSTEM The Magnetic Telegraph Company--The Western Union--Crossing the Continent--The Improvements of Alfred Vail--Honors Awarded to Morse--Duplex Telegraphy--Edison's Improvements. For some time the telegraph line between Washington and Baltimore remained on exhibition as a curiosity, no charge being made for demonstrating it. Congress made an appropriation to keep the line in operation, Vail acting as operator at the Washington end. On April 1, 1845, the line was put in operation on a commercial basis, service being offered to the public at the rate of one cent for four characters. It was operated as a branch of the Post-office Department. On the 4th of April a visitor from Virginia came into the Washington office wishing to see a demonstration. Up to this time not a paid message had been sent. The visitor, having no permit from the Postmaster-General, was told that he could only see the telegraph in operation by sending a message. One cent being all the money he had other than twenty-dollar bills, he asked for one cent's worth. The Washington operator asked of Baltimore, "What time is it?" which in the code required but one character. The reply came, "One o'clock," another single character. Thus but two characters had been used, or one-half cent's worth of telegraphy. The visitor expressed himself as satisfied, and waived the "change." This penny was the line's first earnings. Under the terms of the agreement by which Congress had made the appropriation for the experimental line, Morse was bound to give the Government the first right to purchase his invention. He accordingly offered it to the United States for the sum of $100,000. There followed a distressing example of official stupidity and lack of foresight. With the opportunity to own and control the nation's telegraph lines before it the Government declined the offer. This action was taken at the recommendation of the Hon. Cave Johnson, then Postmaster-General, under whose direction the line had been operated. He had been a member of Congress at the time the original appropriation was voted, and had ridiculed the project. The nation was now so unfortunate as to have him as its Postmaster-General, and he reported "that the operation of the telegraph between Washington and Baltimore had not satisfied him that, under any rate of postage that could be adopted, its revenues could be made equal to its expenditures." And yet the telegraph, here offered to the Government for $100,000, was developed under private management until it paid a profit on a capitalization of $100,000,000. Morse seems to have had a really patriotic motive, as well as a desire for immediate return and the freedom from further worries, in his offer to the Government. He was greatly disappointed at its refusal to purchase, a refusal that was destined to make Morse a wealthy man. Amos Kendall, who had been Postmaster-General under Jackson, was now acting as Morse's agent, and they decided to depend upon private capital. Plans were made for a line between New York and Philadelphia, and to arouse interest and secure capital the apparatus was exhibited in New York City at a charge of twenty-five cents a head. The public refused to patronize in sufficient numbers to even pay expenses, and the entire exhibition was so shabby, and the exhibitors so poverty-stricken, that the sleek capitalists who came departed without investing. Some of the exhibitors slept on chairs or on the floor in the bare room, and it is related that the man who was later to give his name and a share of his fortune to Cornell University was overjoyed at finding a quarter on the sidewalk, as it enabled him to buy a hearty breakfast. Though men of larger means refused to take shares, some in humbler circumstances could recognize the great idea and the wonderful vision which Morse had struggled so long to establish--a vision of a nation linked together by telegraphy. The Magnetic Telegraph Company was formed and work started on the line. In August of 1845 Morse sailed for Europe in an endeavor to enlist foreign capital. The investors of Europe proved no keener than those of America, and the inventor returned without funds, but imbued with increased patriotism. He had become convinced that the telegraph could and would succeed on American capital alone. In the next year a line was constructed from Philadelphia to Washington, thus extending the New York-Philadelphia line to the capital. Henry O'Reilly, of Rochester, New York, took an active part in this construction work and now took the contract to construct a line from Philadelphia to St. Louis. This line was finished by December of 1847. The path having been blazed, others sought to establish lines of their own without regard to Morse's patents. One of these was O Reilly, who, on the completion of the line to St. Louis, began one to Now Orleans, without authority from Morse or his company. O'Reilly called his telegraph "The People's Line," and when called to account in the courts insisted not only that his instruments were different from Morse's, and so no infringement of his patents, but also that the Morse system was a harmful monopoly and that "The People's Line" should be encouraged. It was further urged that Wheatstone in England and Steinheil in Germany had invented telegraphs before Morse, and that Professor Henry had invented the relay which made it possible to operate the telegraph over long distances. The suits resulted in a legal victory for Morse, and his patents were maintained. But still other rival companies built lines, using various forms of apparatus, and though the courts repeatedly upheld Morse's patent rights, the pirating was not effectively checked. The telegraph had come to be a necessity and the original company lacked the capital to construct lines with sufficient rapidity to meet the need. Within ten years after the first line had been put into operation the more thickly settled portions of the United States were served by scores of telegraph lines owned by a dozen different companies. Hardly any of these were making any money, though the service was poor and the rates were high. They were all operating on too small a scale and business uses of the telegraph had not yet developed sufficiently. An amalgamation of the scattered, competing lines was needed, both to secure better service for the public and proper dividends for the investors. This amalgamation was effected by Mr. Hiram Sibley, who organized the Western Union in 1856. The plan was ridiculed at the time, some one stating that "The Western Union seems very like collecting all the paupers in the State and arranging them into a union so as to make rich men of them." But these pauper companies did become rich once they were united under efficient management. The nation was just then stretching herself across to the Pacific. The commercial importance of California was growing rapidly. By 1857 stage-coaches were crossing the plains and the pony-express riders were carrying the mail. The pioneers of the telegraph felt that a line should span the continent. This was then a tremendous undertaking, and when Mr. Sibley proposed that the Western Union should undertake the construction of such a line he was met with the strongest opposition. The explorations of Frémont were not far in the past, and the vast extent of country west of the Mississippi was regarded as a wilderness peopled with savages and almost impossible of development. But Sibley had faith; he was possessed of Morse's vision and Morse's courage. The Western Union refusing to undertake the enterprise, he began it himself. The Government, realizing the military and administrative value of a telegraph line to California, subsidized the work. Additional funds were raised and a route selected was through Omaha and Salt Lake City to San Francisco. The undertaking proved less formidable than had been anticipated, for, instead of two years, less than five months were occupied in completing the line. Sibley's tact and ability did much to avoid opposition by the Indians. He made the red men his friends and impressed upon them the wonder of the telegraph. When the line was in operation between Fort Kearney and Fort Laramie he invited the chief of the Arapahoes at Fort Kearney to communicate by telegraph with his friend the chief of the Sioux at Fort Laramie. The two chiefs exchanged telegrams and were deeply impressed. They were told that the telegraph was the voice of the Manitou or Great Spirit. To convince them it was suggested that they meet half-way and compare their experiences. Though they were five hundred miles apart, they started out on horseback, and on meeting each other found that the line had carried their words truly. The story spread among the tribes, and so the telegraph line became almost sacred to the Indians. They might raid the stations and kill the operators, but they seldom molested the wires. Among many ignorant peoples the establishment of the telegraph has been attained with no small difficulty. The Chinese showed a dread of the telegraph, frequently breaking down the early lines because they believed that they would take away the good luck of their district. The Arabs, on the other hand, did not oppose the telegraph. This is partly because the name is one which they can understand, _tel_ meaning wire to them, and _araph_, to know. Thus in Arabic _tele-agraph_ means to know by wire. Just as the Indians of our own plains had difficulty in understanding the telegraph, so the primitive peoples in other parts of the world could scarce believe it possible. A story is told of the construction of an early line in British India. The natives inquired the purpose of the wire from the head man. "The wire is to carry messages to Calcutta," he replied. "But how can words run along a wire?" they asked. The head man puzzled for a moment. "If there were a dog," he replied, "with a tail long enough to reach from here to Calcutta, and you pinched his tail here, wouldn't he howl in Calcutta?" Once Sibley and the other American telegraph pioneers had spanned the continent, they began plans for spanning the globe. Their idea was to unite America and Europe by a line stretched through British Columbia, Alaska, the Aleutian Islands, and Siberia. Siberia had been connected with European Russia, and thus practically the entire line could be stretched on land, only short submarine cables being necessary. It was then seriously doubted that cables long enough to cross the Atlantic were practicable. The expedition started in 1865, a fleet of thirty vessels carrying the men and supplies. Tremendous difficulties had been overcome and a considerable part of the work accomplished when the successful completion of the Atlantic cable made the work useless. Nearly three million dollars had been expended by the Western Union in this attempt. Yet, despite this loss, its affairs were so generally successful and the need for the telegraph so real that it continued to thrive until it reached its present remarkable development. While the line-builders were busy stretching telegraph wires into almost every city and town in the nation, others were perfecting the apparatus. Alfred Vail was a leading figure in this work. Already he had played a large part in designing and constructing the apparatus to carry out Morse's ideas, and he continued to improve and perfect until practically nothing remained of Morse's original apparatus. The original Morse transmitter had consisted of a porte-rule and movable type. This was cumbersome, and Vail substituted a simple key to make and break the circuit. Vail had also constructed the apparatus to emboss the message upon the moving strip of paper, but this he now improved upon. The receiving apparatus was simplified and the pen was replaced by a disk smeared with ink which marked the dots and dashes upon the paper. As we have noticed, Morse took particular pride in the fact that the receiving apparatus in his telegraph was self-recording, and considered this as one of the most important parts of his system. But when the telegraph began to come into commercial use the operators at the receiving end noticed that they could read the messages from the long and short periods between the clicks of the receiving mechanism. Thus they were taking the message by ear and the recording mechanism was superfluous. Rules and fines failed to break them of the habit, and Vail, recognizing the utility of the development, constructed a receiver which had no recording device, but from which the messages were read by listening to the clicks as the armature struck against the frame in which it was set. Thus the telegraph returned in its elements to the form of Professor Henry's original bell telegraph. With his bell telegraph and his relay Henry had the elements of a successful system. He failed, however, to develop them practically or to introduce them to the attention of the public. He was the man of science rather than the practical inventor. Alfred Vail, joining with Morse after the latter had conceived the telegraph, but before his apparatus was in practical form, was a tireless and invaluable mechanical assistant. His inventions of apparatus were of the utmost practical value, and he played a very large part in bringing the telegraph to a form where it could serve man effectively. After success had been won Morse did not extend to Vail the credit which it seems was his due. Yet, though Morse made free use of the ideas and assistance of others, he was richly deserving of a major portion of the fame and the rewards that came to him as inventor of the telegraph. Morse was the directing genius; he contributed the idea and the leadership, and bore the brunt of the burdens when all was most discouraging. Honors were heaped upon Morse both at home and abroad as his telegraph established itself in all parts of the world. Orders of knighthood, medals, and decorations were conferred upon him. Though he had failed to secure foreign patents, many of the foreign governments recognized the value of his invention, and France, Austria, Belgium, Netherlands, Russia, Sweden, Turkey, and some smaller nations joined in paying him a testimonial of four hundred thousand francs. It is to be noticed that Great Britain did not join in this testimonial, though Morse's system had been adopted there in preference to the one developed by Wheatstone. In 1871 a statue of Morse was erected in Central Park, New York City. It was in the spring of the next year that another statue was unveiled, this time one of Benjamin Franklin, and Morse presided at the ceremonies. The venerable man received a tremendous ovation on this occasion, but the cold of the day proved too great a strain upon him. He contracted a cold which eventually resulted in his death on April 2, 1872. While extended consideration cannot be given here to the telegraphic inventions of Thomas A. Edison, no discussion of the telegraph should close without at least some mention of his work in this field. Edison started his career as a telegrapher, and his first inventions were improvements in the telegraph. His more recent and more wonderful inventions have thrown his telegraphic inventions into the shadow. On the telegraph as invented by Morse but one message could be sent over a single wire at one time. It was later discovered that two messages' could be sent over the single wire in opposite directions at the same time. This was called duplex telegraphy. Edison invented duplex telegraphy by which two messages could be sent over the same wire in the same direction at the same time. Later he succeeded in combining the two, which resulted in the quadruplex, by which four messages may be sent over one wire at one time. Though Edison received comparatively little for this invention, its commercial value may be estimated from the statement by the president of the Western Union that it saved that company half a million dollars in a single year. Edison's quadruplex system was also adopted by the British lines. Before this he had perfected an automatic telegraph, work on which had been begun by George Little, an Englishman. Little could make the apparatus effective only over a short line and attained no very great speed. Edison improved the apparatus until it transmitted thirty-five hundred words a minute between New York and Philadelphia. Such is the perfection to which Morse's marvel has been brought in the hands of the most able of modern inventors. VIII TELEGRAPHING BENEATH THE SEA Early Efforts at Underwater Telegraphy--Cable Construction and Experimentation--The First Cables--The Atlantic Cable Projected--Cyrus W. Field Becomes Interested--Organizes Atlantic Telegraph Company--Professor Thomson as Scientific Adviser--His Early Life and Attainments. The idea of laying telegraph wires beneath the sea was discussed long before a practical telegraph for use on land had been attained. It is recorded that a Spaniard suggested submarine telegraphy in 1795. Experiments were conducted early in the nineteenth century with various materials in an effort to find a covering for the wires which would be both a non-conductor of electricity and impervious to water. An employee of the East India Company made an effort to lay a cable across the river Hugli as early as 1838. His method was to coat the wire with pitch inclose it in split rattan, and then wrap the whole with tarred yarn. Wheatstone discussed a Calais-Dover cable in 1840, but it remained for Morse to actually lay an experimental cable. We have already heard of his experiments in New York Harbor in 1842. His insulation was tarred hemp and India rubber. Wheatstone performed a similar experiment in the Bay of Swansea a few months later. Perhaps the first practical submarine cable was laid by Ezra Cornell, one of Morse's associates, in 1845. He laid twelve miles of cable in the Hudson River, connecting Fort Lee with New York City. The cable consisted of two cotton-covered wires inclosed in rubber, and the whole incased in a lead pipe. This cable was in use for several months until it was carried away by the ice in the winter of 1846. These early experimenters found the greatest difficulty in incasing their wires in rubber, practical methods of working that substance being then unknown. The discovery of gutta-percha by a Scotch surveyor of the East India Company in 1842, and the invention of a machine for applying it to a wire, by Dr. Werner Siemens, proved a great aid to the cable-makers. These gutta-percha-covered wires were used for underground telegraphy both in England and on the Continent. Tests were made with such a cable for submarine work off Dover in 1849, and, proving successful, the first cable across the English Channel was laid the next year by John Watkins Brett. The cable was weighted with pieces of lead fastened on every hundred yards. A few incoherent signals were exchanged and the communication ceased. A Boulogne fisherman had caught the new cable in his trawl, and, raising it, had cut a section away. This he had borne to port as a great treasure, believing the copper to be gold in some new form of deposit. This experience taught the need of greater protection for a cable, and the next year another was laid across the Channel, which was protected by hemp and wire wrappings. This proved successful. In 1852 England and Ireland were joined by cable, and the next year a cable was laid across the North Sea to Holland. The success of these short cables might have promised success in an attempt to cross the Atlantic had not failures in the deep water of the Mediterranean made it seem an impossibility. We have noted that Morse suggested the possibility of uniting Europe and America by cable. The same thought had occurred to others, but the undertaking was so vast and the problems so little understood that for many years none were bold enough to undertake the project. A telegraph from New York to St. John's, Newfoundland, was planned, however, which was to lessen the time of communication between the continents. News brought by boats from England could be landed at St. John's and telegraphed to New York, thus saving two days. F.N. Gisborne secured the concession for such a line in 1852, and began the construction. Cables were required to connect Newfoundland with the continent, and to cross the Gulf of St. Lawrence, but the rest of the line was to be strung through the forests. Before much had been accomplished, Gisborne had run out of funds, and work was suspended. In 1854 Gisborne met Cyrus West Field, of New York, a retired merchant of means. Field became interested in Gisborne's project, and as he examined the globe in his library the thought occurred to him that the line to St. John's was but a start on the way to England. The idea aroused his enthusiasm, and he determined to embark upon the gigantic enterprise. He knew nothing of telegraph cables or of the sea-bottom, and so sought expert information on the subject. One important question was as to the condition of the sea-bottom on which the cable must rest. Lieutenant Berryman of the United States Navy had taken a series of soundings and stated that the sea-bottom between Newfoundland and Ireland was a comparatively level plateau covered with soft ooze, and at a depth of about two thousand fathoms. This seemed to the investigators to have been provided for the especial purpose of receiving a submarine cable, so admirably was it suited to this purpose. Morse was consulted, and assured Field that the project was entirely feasible, and that a submarine cable once laid between the continents could be operated successfully. Field thereupon adopted the plans of Gisborne as the first step in the larger undertaking. In 1855 an attempt was made to lay a cable across the Gulf of St. Lawrence, but a storm arose, and the cable had to be cut to save the ship from which it was being laid. Another attempt was made the following summer with better equipment, and the cable was successfully completed. Other parts of the line had been finished, the telegraph now stretched a thousand miles toward England, and New York was connected with St. John's. Desiring more detailed information of the ocean-bed along the proposed route, Field secured the assistance of the United States and British governments. Lieutenant Berryman, U.S.N., in the _Arctic_, and Lieutenant Dayman, R.N., in the _Cyclops_, made a careful survey. Their soundings revealed a ridge near the Irish coast, but the slope was gradual and the general conditions seemed especially favorable. The preliminary work had been done by an American company with Field at the head and Morse as electrician. Now Field went to England to secure capital sufficient for the larger enterprise. With the assistance of Mr. J.W. Brett he organized the Atlantic Telegraph Company, Field himself supplying a quarter of the capital. Associated with Field and Brett in the leadership of the enterprise was Charles Tiltson Bright, a young Englishman who became engineer for the new company. Besides the enormous engineering difficulties of producing a cable long enough and strong enough, and laying it at the bottom of the Atlantic, there were electrical problems involved far greater than Morse seems to have realized. It had been discovered that the passage of a current through a submarine cable is seriously retarded. The retarding of the current as it passes through the water is a difficulty that does not exist with the land telegraph stretched on poles. Faraday had demonstrated that this retarding was caused by induction between the electricity in the wire and the water about the cable. The passage of the current through the wire induces currents in the water, and these moving in the opposite direction act as a drag on the passage of the message through the wire. What the effect of this phenomenon would be on a cable long enough to cross the Atlantic wan a serious problem that required deep study by the company's engineers. It seemed entirely possible that the messages would move so slowly that the operation of the cable, once it was laid, would not pay. Faraday failed to give any definite information on the subject, but Professor William Thomson worked out the law of retardation accurately and furnished to the cable-builders the accurate information which was required. Doctor Whitehouse, electrician for the Atlantic Company, conducted some experiments of his own and questioned the accuracy of Thomson's statements. Thomson maintained his position so ably, and proved himself so thoroughly a master of the subject that Field and his associates decided to enlist him in the enterprise. This addition to the forces was one of the utmost importance. William Thomson, later to become Lord Kelvin, was probably the ablest scientist of his generation, and was destined to prove his great abilities in his early work with the Atlantic cable. William Thomson was born in Belfast, Ireland, in 1824. His father was a teacher and took an especially keen interest in the affairs of his boys because their mother had died while William was very young. When William was eight years of age his father removed to Glasgow, Scotland, where he had secured the chair of mathematics in Glasgow University. His early education he secured from his father, and this training, coupled with his natural brilliancy, enabled him to develop genuine precocity. At the age of eight he attended his father's university lectures as a visitor, and it is reported that on one occasion he answered his father's questions when all of the class had failed. At the age of ten he entered the university, together with his brother James, who was but two years older. The brothers displayed marked interest in science and invention, eagerly pursued their studies in these branches, and performed many electrical experiments together. [Illustration: CYRUS W. FIELD] [Illustration: WILLIAM THOMSON (LORD KELVIN)] James took the degrees B.A. and M.A. in successive years. Though William also passed the examinations, he did not take the degrees, because he had decided to go to Cambridge, and it was thought best that he take all his degrees from that great school. In writing to his older brother at this time, William was accustomed to sign himself "B.A.T.A.I.A.P.," which signified "B.A. to all intents and purposes." After finishing their work at Glasgow the boys traveled extensively on the Continent. At seventeen William entered St. Peter's College, Cambridge University, taking courses in advanced mathematics and continuing to distinguish himself. He took an active part in the life of the university, making something of a record us an athlete, winning the silver sculls, and rowing on a 'varsity crew which took the measure of Oxford in the great annual boat-race. He also interested himself in literature and music, but his real passion was science. Already he had written many learned essays on mathematical electricity and was accomplishing valuable research work. On the completion of his work at Cambridge he secured a fellowship which brought him an income of a thousand dollars a year and enabled him to pursue his studies in Paris. When he was but twenty-two years of age he was made professor of natural philosophy at the University of Glasgow. Though young, he proved entirely successful, and wan immensely popular with his students. At that time the university had no experimental laboratory, and Professor Thomson and his pupils performed their experiments in the professor's room and in an abandoned coal-cellar, slowly developing a laboratory for themselves. His development continued until, when at the age of thirty-three he was called upon to assist with the work of laying an Atlantic cable, he was possessed of scientific attainments which made him invaluable among the cable pioneers. IX THE PIONEER ATLANTIC CABLE Making the Cable--The First Attempt at Laying--Another Effort Checked by Storm--The Cable Laid at Last--Messages Cross the Ocean--The Cable Fails--Professor Thomson's Inventions and Discoveries--Their Part in Designing and Constructing an Improved Cable and Apparatus. Field and his business associates were extremely anxious that the cable be laid with all possible speed, and little time was allowed the engineers and electricians for experimentation. The work of building the cable was begun early in 1857 by two English firms. It consisted of seven copper wires covered with gutta-percha and wound with tarred hemp. Over this were wound heavy iron wires to give protection and added strength. The whole weighed about a ton to the mile, and was both strong and flexible. The distance from the west coast of Ireland to Newfoundland being 1,640 nautical miles, it was decided to supply 2,500 miles of cable, an extra length being, of course, necessary to allow for the inequalities at the bottom of the sea, and the possibility of accident. The British and American governments had already provided subsidies, and they now supplied war-ships for use in the work of laying the cable. The _Agamemnon_, one of the largest of England's war-ships, and the _Niagara_, giant of the United States Navy, were to do the actual work of cable-laying, the cable being divided between them. They were accompanied by the United States frigate _Susquehanna_ and the British war-ships _Leopard_ and _Cyclops_. In August of 1857 the fleet assembled on the Irish coast for the start, and the American sailors landed the end of the cable amid great ceremony. The work of cable-laying was begun by the _Niagara_, which steamed slowly away, accompanied by the fleet. The great cable payed out smoothly as the Irish coast was left behind and the frigate increased her speed. The submarine hill with its dangerous slopes was safely passed, and it was felt that the greatest danger was past. The paying-out machinery seemed to be working perfectly. Telegraphic communication was constantly maintained with the shore end. For six days all went well and nearly four hundred miles of cable had been laid. With the cable dropping to the bottom two miles down it was found that it was flowing out at the rate of six miles an hour while the _Niagara_ was steaming but four. It was evident that the cable was being wasted, and to prevent its running out too fast at this great depth the brake controlling the flow of the cable was tightened. The stern of the vessel rising suddenly on a wave, the strain proved too great and the cable parted and was lost. Instant grief swept over the ship and squadron, for the heart of every one was in the great enterprise. It was felt that it would be useless to attempt to grapple the cable at this great depth, and there seemed nothing to do but abandon it and return. The loss of the cable and of a year's time--since another attempt could not be made until the next season--resulted in a total loss to the company of half a million dollars. Public realization of the magnitude of the task had been awakened by the failure of the first expedition and Field found it far from easy to raise additional capital. It was finally accomplished, however, and a new supply of cable was constructed. Professor Thomson had been studying the problems of submarine telegraphy with growing enthusiasm, and had now arrived at the conclusion that the conductivity of the cable depended very largely upon the purity of the copper employed. He accordingly saw to it that in the construction of the new section all the wires were carefully tested and such as did not prove perfect were discarded. In the mean time the engineers were busy improving the paying-out machinery. They designed an automatic brake which would release the cable instantly upon the strain becoming too great. It was thus hoped to avoid a recurrence of the former accident. Chief-Engineer Bright also arranged a trial trip for the purpose of drilling the staff in their various duties. The same vessels were provided to lay the cable on the second attempt and the fleet sailed in June of 1858, this time without celebration or public ceremony. On this occasion the recommendation of Chief-Engineer Bright was followed, and it was arranged that the _Niagara_ and _Agamemnon_ should meet in mid-ocean, there splice the cable together and proceed in opposite directions, laying the cable simultaneously. On this expedition Professor Thomson was to assume the real scientific leadership, Professor Morse, though he retained his position with the company, taking no active part. The ships had not proceeded any great distance before they ran into a terrible gale. The _Agamemnon_ had an especially difficult time of it, her great load of cable overbalancing the ship and threatening to break loose again and again and carry the great vessel and her precious cargo to the bottom. The storm continued for over a week, and when at last it had blown itself out the _Agamemnon_ resembled a wreck and many of her crew had been seriously injured. But the cable had been saved and the expedition was enabled to proceed to the rendezvous. The _Niagara_, a larger ship, had weathered the storm without mishap. The splice was effected on Saturday, the 26th, but before three miles had been laid the cable caught in the paying-out machinery on the _Niagara_ and was broken off. Another splice was made that evening and the ships started again. The two vessels kept in communication with each other by telegraph as they proceeded, and anxious inquiries and many tests marked the progress of the work. When fifty miles were out, the cable parted again at some point between the vessels and they again sought the rendezvous in mid-Atlantic. Sufficient cable still remained and a third start was made. For a few days all went well and some four hundred miles of cable had been laid with success as the messages passing from ship to ship clearly demonstrated. Field, Thomson, and Bright began to believe that their great enterprise was to be crowned with success when the cable broke again, this time about twenty feet astern of the _Agamemnon_. This time there was no apparent reason for the mishap, the cable having parted without warning when under no unusual strain. The vessels returned to Queenstown, and Field and Thomson went to London, where the directors of the company were assembled. Many were in favor of abandoning the enterprise, selling the remaining cable for what it would bring, and saving as much of their investment as possible. But Field and Thomson were not of the sort who are easily discouraged, and they managed to rouse fresh courage in their associates. Yet another attempt was decided upon, and with replenished stores the _Agamemnon_ and _Niagara_ once again proceeded to the rendezvous. The fourth start was made on the 29th of July. On several occasions as the work progressed communication failed, and Professor Thomson on the _Agamemnon_ and the other electricians on the _Niagara_ spent many anxious moments fearing that the line had again been severed. On each occasion, however, the current resumed. It was afterward determined that the difficulties were because of faulty batteries rather than leaks in the cable. On both ships bad spots were found in the cable as it was uncoiled and some quick work was necessary to repair them before they dropped into the sea, since it was practically impossible to stop the flow of the cable without breaking it. The _Niagara_ had some narrow escapes from icebergs, and the _Agamemnon_ had difficulties with ships which passed too close and a whale which swam close to the ship and grazed the precious cable. But this time there was no break and the ships approached their respective destinations with the cable still carrying messages between them. The _Niagara_ reached the Newfoundland coast on August 4th, and early the next morning landed the cable in the cable-house at Trinity Bay. The _Agamemnon_ reached the Irish coast but a few hours later, and her end of the cable was landed on the afternoon of the same day. The public, because of the repeated failures, had come to look upon the cable project as a sort of gigantic wild-goose chase. The news that a cable had at last been laid across the ocean was received with incredulity. Becoming convinced at last, there was great rejoicing in England and America. Queen Victoria sent to President Buchanan a congratulatory message in which she expressed the hope "that the electric cable which now connects Great Britain with the United States will prove an additional link between the two nations, whose friendship is founded upon their mutual interest and reciprocal esteem." The President responded in similar vein, and expressed the hope that the neutrality of the cable might be established. Honors were showered upon the leaders in the enterprise. Charles Bright, the chief engineer, was knighted, though he was then but twenty-six years of age. Banquet after banquet was held in England at which Bright and Thomson were the guests of honor. New York celebrated in similar fashion. A grand salute of one hundred guns was fired, the streets were decorated, and the city was illuminated at night. The festivities rose to the highest pitch in September with Field receiving the plaudits of all New York. Special services were held in Trinity Church, and a great celebration was held in Crystal Palace. The mayor presented to Field a golden casket, and the ceremony was followed by a torchlight parade. That very day the last message went over the wire. The shock to the public was tremendous. Many insisted that the cable had never been operated and that the entire affair was a hoax. This was quickly disproved. Aside from the messages between Queen and President many news messages had gone over the cable and it had proved of great value to the British Government. The Indian mutiny had been in progress and regiments in Canada had received orders by mail to sail for India. News reached England that the mutiny was at an end, and the cable enabled the Government to countermand the orders, thus saving a quarter of a million dollars that would have been expended in transporting the troops. The engineers to whom the operations of the cable had been intrusted had decided that very high voltages were necessary to its successful operation. They had accordingly installed huge induction coils and sent currents of two thousand volts over the line. Even this voltage had failed to operate the Morse instruments, the drag by induction proving too great. The strain of this high voltage had a very serious effect upon the insulation. Abandoning the Morse instruments and the high voltage, recourse was then had to Professor Thomson's instruments, which proved entirely effective with ordinary battery current. Because of the effect of induction the current is much delayed in traveling through a long submarine cable and arrives in waves. Professor Thomson devised his mirror galvanometer to meet this difficulty. This device consists of a large coil of very fine wire, in the center of which, in a small air-chamber, is a tiny mirror. Mounted on the back of the mirror are very small magnets. The mirror is suspended by a fiber of the finest silk. Thus the weakest of currents coming in over the wire serve to deflect the mirror, and a beam of light being directed upon the mirror and reflected by it upon a screen, the slightest movement of the mirror is made visible. If the mirror swings too far its action is deadened by compressing the air in the chamber. The instrument is one of the greatest delicacy. Such was the greatest contribution of Professor Thomson to submarine telegraphy. Without it the cable could not have been operated even for a short period. Had it been used from the first the line would not have been ruined and might have been used for a considerable period. Professor Thomson together with Engineer Bright made a careful investigation of the causes of failure. The professor pointed out that had the mirror galvanometer been used with a moderate current the cable could have been continued in successful operation. Ha continued to improve this apparatus and at the same time busied himself with a recording instrument to be used for cable work. Both Thomson and Bright had recommended a larger and stronger cable, and other failures in cable-laying in the Red Sea and elsewhere in the next few years bore out their contentions. But with each failure new experience was gained and methods were perfected. Professor Thomson continued his work with the utmost diligence and continued to add to the fund of scientific knowledge on the subject. So it was that he was prepared to take his place as scientific leader of the next great effort. X A SUCCESSFUL CABLE ATTAINED Field Raises New Capital--The _Great Eastern_ Secured and Equipped--Staff Organized with Professor Thomson as Scientific Director--Cable Parts and is Lost--Field Perseveres--The Cable Recovered--The Continents Linked at Last--A Commercial Success--Public Jubilation--Modern Cables. The early 'sixties were trying years for the cable pioneers. It required all of Field's splendid genius and energy to keep the project alive. In the face of repeated failures, and doubt as to whether messages could be sent rapidly enough to make any cable a commercial success, it was extremely difficult to raise fresh capital. America continued to evince interest in the cable, but with, the Civil War in progress it was not easy to raise funds. But no discouragement could deter Field. Though he suffered severely from seasickness, he crossed the Atlantic sixty-four times in behalf of the great enterprise which he had begun. It was necessary to raise three million dollars to provide a cable of the improved type decided upon and to install it properly. The English firm of Glass, Eliot & Company, which was to manufacture the cable, took a very large part of the stock. The new cable was designed in accordance with the principles enunciated by Professor Thomson. The conductor consisted of seven wires of pure copper, weighing three hundred pounds to the mile. This copper core was covered with Chatterton's compound, which served as water-proofing. This was surrounded by four layers of gutta-percha, cemented together by the compound, and about this hemp was wound. The outer layer consisted of eighteen steel wires wound spirally, each being covered with a wrapping of hemp impregnated with a preservative solution. The new cable was twice as heavy as the old and more than twice as strong, a great advance having been made in the methods of manufacturing steel wire. It was decided that the cable should, be laid by one vessel, instead of endeavoring to work from two as in the past. Happily, a boat was available which was fitted to carry this enormous burden. This was the _Great Eastern_, a mammoth vessel far in advance of her time. This great ship of 22,500 tons had been completed in 1857, but had not proved a commercial success. The docks of that day were not adequate, the harbors were not deep enough, and the cargoes were insufficient. She had long lain idle when she was secured by the cable company and fitted out for the purpose of laying the cable, which was the first useful work which had been found for the great ship. The 2,300 miles of heavy cable was coiled into the hull and paying-out machinery was installed upon the decks. Huge quantities of coal and other supplies were added. Capt. James Anderson of the Cunard Line was placed in command of the ship for the expedition, with Captain Moriarty, R.N., as navigating officer. Professor Thomson and Mr. C.F. Varley represented the Atlantic Telegraph Company as electricians and scientific advisers. Mr. Samuel Canning was engineer in charge for the contractors. Mr. Field was also on board. It was on July 23, 1865, that the expedition started from the Irish coast, where the eastern end of the cable had been landed. Less than a hundred miles of cable had been laid when the electricians discovered a fault in the cable. The _Great Eastern_ was stopped, the course was retraced, and the cable picked up until the fault was reached. It was found that a piece of iron wire had in some way pierced the cable so that the insulation was ruined. This was repaired and the work of laying was again commenced. Five days later, when some seven hundred miles of cable had been laid, communication was again interrupted, and once again they turned back, laboriously lifting the heavy cable from the depths, searching for the break. Again a wire was found thrust through the cable, and this occasioned no little worry, as it was feared that this was being done maliciously. It was on August 2d that the next fault was discovered. Nearly two-thirds of the cable was now in place and the depth was here over one mile. Raising the cable was particularly difficult, and just at this juncture the _Great Eastern's_ machinery broke down, leaving her without power and at the mercy of the waves. Subjected to an enormous strain, the precious cable parted and was lost. Despite the great depth, efforts were made to grapple the lost cable. Twice the cable was hooked, but on both occasions the rope parted and after days of tedious work the supply of rope was exhausted and it was necessary to return to England. Still another cable expedition had ended in failure. Field, the indomitable, began all over again, raising additional funds for a new start. The _Great Eastern_ had proved entirely satisfactory, and it was hoped that with improvements in the grappling-gear the cable might be recovered. The old company gave way before a new organization known as the Anglo-American Telegraph Company. It was decided to lay an entirely new cable, and then to endeavor to complete the one partially laid in 1865. With no services other than private prayers at the station on the Irish shore, the _Great Eastern_ steamed away for the new effort on July 13, 1866. This time the principal difficulties arose within the ship. Twice the cable became tangled in the tanks and it was necessary to stop the ship while the mass was straightened out. Most of the time the "coffee-mill," as the seamen called the paying-out machinery, ground steadily away and the cable sank into the sea. As the work progressed Field and Thomson, who had suffered so many failures in their great enterprise, watched with increasing anxiety. They were almost afraid to hope that the good fortune would continue. Just two weeks after the Irish coast had been left behind the _Great Eastern_ approached Newfoundland just as the shadows of night were added to those of a thick fog. On the next morning, July 28th, she steamed into Trinity Bay, where flags were flying in the little town in honor of the great accomplishment. Amid salutes and cheers the cable was landed and communication between the continents was established. Almost the first news that came over the wire was that of the signing of the treaty of peace which ended the war between Prussia and Austria. Early in August the _Great Eastern_ again steamed away to search for the cable broken the year before. Arriving on the spot, the grapples were thrown out and the tedious work of dragging the sea-bottom was begun. After many efforts the cable was finally secured and raised to the surface. A new section was spliced on and the ship again turned toward America. On September 7th the second cable was successfully landed, and two wires were now in operation between the continents. Thus was the great task doubly fulfilled. Once again there were public celebrations in England and America. Field received the deserved plaudits of his countrymen and Thomson was knighted in recognition of his achievements. [Illustration: THE "GREAT EASTERN" LAYING THE ATLANTIC CABLE. 1866] The new cables proved a success and were kept in operation for many years. Thomson's mirror receiver had been improved until it displayed remarkable sensitiveness. Using the current from a battery placed in a lady's thimble, a message was sent across the Atlantic through one cable and back through the other. Professor Thomson was to give to submarine telegraphy an even more remarkable instrument. The mirror instrument did not give a permanent record of the messages. The problem of devising a means of recording the messages delicate enough so that it could be operated with rapidity by the faint currents coming over a long cable was extremely difficult. But Thomson solved it with his siphon recorder. In this a small coil is suspended between the poles of a large magnet; the coil being free to turn upon its axis. When the current from the cable passes through the coil it moves, and so varies the position of the ink-siphon which is attached to it. The friction of a pen on paper would have proved too great a drag on so delicate an instrument, and so a tiny jet of ink from the siphon was substituted. The ink is made to pass through the siphon with sufficient force to mark down the message by a delightfully ingenious method. Thomson simply arranged to electrify the ink, and it rushes through the tiny opening on to the paper just as lightning leaps from cloud to earth. Professor, now Sir, Thomson continued to take an active part in the work of designing and laying new cables. Not only did he contribute the apparatus and the scientific information which made cables possible, but he attained renown as a physicist and a scientist in many other fields. In 1892 he was given the title of Lord Kelvin, and it was by this name that he was known as the leading physicist of his day. He survived until 1907. To Cyrus W. Field must be assigned a very large share of the credit for the establishment of telegraphic communication between the continents. He gave his fortune and all of his tremendous energy and ability to the enterprise and kept it alive through failure after failure. He was a promoter of the highest type, the business man who recognized a great human need and a great opportunity for service. Without his efforts the scientific discoveries of Thomson could scarcely have been put to practical use. The success of the first cable inspired others. In 1869 a cable from France to the United States was laid from the _Great Eastern_. In 1875 the Direct United States Cable Company laid another cable to England, which was followed by another cable to France. One cable after another was laid until there are now a score. This second great development in communication served to bring the two continents much closer together in business and in thought and has proved of untold benefit. XI ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL, THE YOUTH The Family's Interest in Speech Improvement--Early Life-Influence of Sir Charles Wheatstone--He Comes to America--Visible Speech and the Mohawks--The Boston School for Deaf Mutes--The Personality of Bell. The men of the Bell family, for three generations, have interested themselves in human speech. The grandfather, the father, and the uncle of Alexander Graham Bell were all elocutionists of note. The grandfather achieved fame in London; the uncle, in Dublin; and the father, in Edinburgh. The father applied himself particularly to devising means of instructing the deaf in speech. His book on _Visible Speech_ explained his method of instructing deaf mutes in speech by the aid of their sight, and of teaching them to understand the speech of others by watching their lips as the words are spoken. Alexander Graham Bell was born in Edinburgh in 1847, and received his early education in the schools of that city. He later studied at Warzburg, Germany, where he received the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. He followed very naturally in the footsteps of his father, taking an early interest in the study of speech. He was especially anxious to aid his mother, who was deaf. As a boy he exhibited a genius for invention, as well as for acoustics. Much of this was duo to the wise encouragement of his father. He himself has told of a boyhood invention. My father once asked my brother Melville and myself to try to make a speaking-machine, I don't suppose he thought we could produce anything of value, in itself. But he knew we could not even experiment and manufacture anything which even tried to speak, without learning something of the voice and the throat; and the mouth--all that wonderful mechanism of sound production in which he was so interested. So my brother and I went to work. We divided the task--he was to make the lungs and the vocal cords, I was to make the mouth and the tongue. He made a bellows for the lungs and a very good vocal apparatus out of rubber. I procured a skull and molded a tongue with rubber stuffed with cotton wool, and supplied the soft parts of the throat with the same material Then I arranged joints, so the jaw and the tongue could move. It was a great day for us when we fitted the two parts of the device together. Did it speak? It squeaked and squawked a good deal, but it made a very passable imitation of "Mam-ma--Mam-ma." It sounded very much like a baby. My father wanted us to go on and try to get other sounds, but we were so interested in what we had done we wanted to try it out. So we proceeded to use it to make people think there was a baby in the house, and when we made it cry "Mam-ma," and heard doors opening and people coming, we were quite happy. What has become of It? Well, that was across the ocean, in Scotland, but I believe the mouth and tongue part that I made is in Georgetown somewhere; I saw it not long ago. The inventor tells of another boyhood invention that, though it had no connection with sound or speech, shows his native ingenuity. Again we will tell it in his own words. I remember my first invention very well. There were several of us boys, and we were fond of playing around a mill where they ground wheat into flour. The miller's son was one of the boys, and I am afraid he showed us how to be a good deal of a nuisance to his father. One day the miller called us into the mill and said, "Why don't you do something useful instead of just playing all the time?" I wasn't afraid of the miller as much as his son was, so I said, "Well, what can we do that is useful?" He took up a handful of wheat, ran it over in his hand and said: "Look at that! If you could manage to get the husks off that wheat, that would be doing something useful!" So I took some wheat home with me and experimented. I found the husks came off without much difficulty. I tried brushing them off and they came off beautifully. Then it occurred to me that brushing was nothing but applying friction to them. If I could brush the husks off, why couldn't the husks be rubbed off? There was in the mill a machine--I don't know what it was for--but it whirled its contents, whatever it was, around in a drum. I thought, "Why wouldn't the husks come off if the raw wheat was whirled around in that drum?" So back I went to the miller and suggested the idea to him. "Why," he said, "that's a good idea." So he called his foreman and they tried it, and the husks came off beautifully, and they've been taking husks off that way ever since. That was my very first invention, and it led me to thinking for myself, and really had quite an influence on my way and methods of thought. Up to his sixteenth year young Bell's reading consisted largely of novels, poetry, and romantic tales of Scotch heroes. But in addition he was picking up some knowledge of anatomy, music, electricity, and telegraphy. When he was but sixteen years of age his father secured for him a position as teacher of elocution and this necessarily turned his thought into more serious channels. He now spent his leisure studying sound. During this period he made several discoveries in sound which were of some small importance. When he was twenty-one years of age he went to London and there had the good fortune to come to the attention of Charles Wheatstone and Alex J. Ellis. Ellis was at that time president of the London Philological Society, and had translated Helmholtz's _The Sensation of Tone_ into English. He had made no little progress with sound, and demonstrated to Bell the methods by which German scientists had caused tuning-forks to vibrate by means of electro-magnets and had combined the tones of several tuning-forks in an effort to reproduce the sound of the human voice. Helmholtz had performed this experiment simply to demonstrate the physical basis of sound, and seems to have had no idea of its possible use in telephony. That an electro-magnet could vibrate a tuning-fork and so produce sound was an entirely new and fascinating idea to the youth. It appealed to his imagination, quickened by his knowledge of speech. "Why not an electrical telegraph?" he asked himself. His idea seems to have been that the electric current could carry different notes over the wire and reproduce them by means of the electro-magnet. Although Bell did not know it, many others were struggling with the same problem, the answer to which proved most elusive. It gave Bell a starting-point, and the search for the telephone began. Sir Charles Wheatstone was then England's leading man of science, and so Bell sought his counsel. Wheatstone received the young man and listened to his statement of his ideas and ambitions and gave him every encouragement. He showed him a talking-machine which had recently been invented by Baron de Kempelin, and gave him the opportunity to study it closely. Thus Bell, the eager student, the unknown youth of twenty-two, came under the influence of Wheatstone, the famous scientist and inventor of sixty-seven. This influence played a great part in shaping Bell's career, arousing as it did his passion for science. This decided him to devote himself to the problem of reproducing sounds by mechanical means. Thus a new improvement in the means of human communication was being sought and another pioneer of science was at work. The death of the two brothers of the young scientist from tuberculosis, and the physician's report that he himself was threatened by the dread malady, forced a change in his plans and withdrew him from an atmosphere which was so favorable to the development of his great ideas. He was told that he must seek a new climate and lead a more vigorous life in the open. Accompanied by his father, he removed to America and at the age of twenty-six took up the struggle for health in the little Canadian town of Brantford. He occupied himself by teaching his father's system of visible speech among the Mohawk Indians. In this work he met with no little success. At the same time he was gaining in bodily vigor and throwing off the tendency to consumption which had threatened his life. He did not forget the great idea which filled his imagination and eagerly sought the telephone with such crude means as were at hand. He succeeded in designing a piano which, with the aid of the electric current, could transmit its music over a wire and reproduce it. While lecturing in Boston on his system of teaching visible speech, the elder Bell received a request to locate in that city and take up his work in its schools. He declined the offer, but recommended his son as one entirely competent for the position. Alexander Graham Bell received the offer, which he accepted, and he was soon at work teaching the deaf mutes in the school which Boston had opened for those thus afflicted. He met with the greatest success in his work, and ere long achieved a national reputation. During the first year of his work, 1871, he was the sensation of the educational world. Boston University offered him a professorship, in which position he taught others his system of teaching, with increased success. The demand for his services led him to open a School of Vocal Physiology. He had made some improvements in his father's system for teaching the deaf and dumb to speak and to understand spoken words, and displayed great ability as a teacher. His experiments with telegraphy and telephony had been laid aside, and there seemed little chance that he would turn from the work in which he was accomplishing so much for so many sufferers, and which was bringing a comfortable financial return, and again undertake the tedious work in search for a telephone. Fortunately, Bell was to establish close relationships with those who understood and appreciated his abilities and gave him encouragement in his search for a new means of communication. Thomas Sanders, a resident of Salem, had a five-year-old son named Georgie who was a deaf mute. Mr. Sanders sought Bell's tutelage for his son, and it was agreed that Bell should give Georgie private lessons for the sum of three hundred and fifty dollars a year. It was also arranged that Bell was to reside at the Sanders home in Salem. He made arrangements to conduct his future experiments there. Another pupil who came to him about this time was Mabel Hubbard, a fifteen-year-old girl who had lost her hearing and consequently her powers of speech, through an attack of scarlet fever when an infant. She was a gentle and lovable girl, and Bell fell completely in love with his pupil. Four years later he was to marry her and she was to prove a large influence in helping him to success. She took the liveliest interest in all of his experiments and encouraged him to new endeavor after each failure. She kept his records and notes and wrote his letters. Through her Bell secured the support of her father, Gardiner G. Hubbard, who was widely known as one of Boston's ablest lawyers. He was destined to become Bell's chief spokesman and defender. Hubbard first became aware of Bell's inventive genius when the latter was calling one evening at the Hubbard home in Cambridge. Bell was illustrating some mysteries of acoustics with the aid of the piano. "Do you know," he remarked, "that if I sing the note G close to the strings of the piano, the G string will answer me?" This did not impress the lawyer, who asked its significance. "It is a fact of tremendous importance," answered Bell. "It is evidence that we may some day have a musical telegraph which will enable us to send as many messages simultaneously over one wire as there are notes on that piano." From that time forward Hubbard took every occasion to encourage Bell to carry forward his experiments in musical telegraphy. As a young man Bell was tall and slender, with jet-black eyes and hair, the latter being pushed back into a curly tangle. He was sensitive and high-strung, very much the artist and the man of science. His enthusiasms were intense, and, once his mind was filled with an idea, he followed it devotedly. He was very little the practical business man and paid scant attention to the small, practical details of life. He was so interested in visible speech, and so keenly alert to the pathos of the lives of the deaf mutes, that he many times seriously considered giving over all experiments with the musical telegraph and devoting his entire life and energies to the amelioration of their condition. XII THE BIRTH OF THE TELEPHONE The Cellar at Sanderses'--Experimental Beginnings--Magic Revived in Salem Town--The Dead Man's Ear--The Right Path--Trouble and Discouragement--The Trip to Washington--Professor Joseph Henry--The Boston Workshop--The First Faint Twang of the Telephone--Early Development. Alexander Graham Bell had not resided at the Sanderses' home very long before he had fitted the basement up as a workshop. For three years he haunted it, spending all of his leisure time in his experiments. Here he had his apparatus, and the basement was littered with a curious combination of electrical and acoustical devices--magnets, batteries, coils of wire, tuning-forks, speaking-trumpets, etc. Bell had a great horror that his ideas might be stolen and was very nervous over any possible intrusion into his precious workshop. Only the members of the Sanders family were allowed to enter the basement. He was equally cautious in purchasing supplies and equipment lest his very purchases reveal the nature of his experiments. He would go to a half-dozen different stores for as many articles. He usually selected the night for his experiments, and pounded and scraped away indefatigably, oblivious of the fact that the family, as well as himself, was sorely in need of rest. "Bell would often awaken me in the middle of the night," says Mr. Sanders, "his black eyes blazing with excitement. Leaving me to go down to the cellar, he would rush wildly to the barn and begin to send me signals along his experimental wires. If I noticed any improvement in his apparatus he would be delighted. He would leap and whirl around in one of his 'war-dances,' and then go contentedly to bed. But if the experiment was a failure he would go back to his work-bench to try some different plan." In common with other experimenters who were searching for the telephone, Bell was experimenting with a sort of musical telegraph. Eagerly and persistently he sought the means that would replace the telegraph with its cumbersome signals by a new device which would enable the human voice itself to be transmitted. The longer he worked the greater did the difficulties appear. His work with the deaf and dumb was alluring, and on many occasions he seriously considered giving over his other experiments and devoting himself entirely to the instruction of the deaf and dumb and to the development of his system of making speech visible by making the sound-vibrations visible to the eye. But as he mused over the difficulties in enabling a deaf mute to achieve speech nothing else seemed impossible. "If I can make a deaf mute talk," said Bell, "I can make iron talk." One of his early ideas was to install a harp at one end of the wire and a speaking-trumpet at the other. His plan was to transmit the vibrations over the wire and have the voice reproduced by the vibrations of the strings of the harp. By attaching a light pencil or marker to a cord or membrane and causing the latter to vibrate by talking against it, he could secure tracings of the sound-vibrations. Different tracings were secured from different sounds. He thus sought to teach the deaf to speak by sight. At this time Bell enjoyed the friendship of Dr. Clarence J. Blake, an eminent Boston aurist, who suggested that the experiments be conducted with a human ear instead of with a mechanical apparatus in imitation of the ear. Bell eagerly accepted the idea, and Doctor Blake provided him with an ear and connecting organs cut from a dead man's head. Bell soon had the ghastly specimen set up in his workshop. He moistened the drum with glycerine and water and, substituting a stylus of hay for the stapes bone, he obtained a wonderful series of curves which showed the vibrations of the human voice as recorded by the ear. One can scarce imagine a stranger picture than Bell must have presented in the conduct of those experiments. We can almost see him with his face the paler in contrast with his black hair and flashing black eyes as he shouted and whispered by turns into the ghastly ear. Surely he must have looked the madman, and it is perhaps fortunate that he was not observed by impressionable members of the public else they would have been convinced that the witches had again visited old Salem town to ply their magic anew. But it was a new and very real and practical sort of magic which was being worked there. His experiments with the dead man's ear brought to Bell at least one important idea. He noted that, though the ear-drum was thin and light, it was capable of sending vibrations through the heavy bones that lay back of it. And so he thought of using iron disks or membranes to serve the purpose of the drum in the ear and arrange them so that they would vibrate an iron rod. He thought of connecting two such instruments with an electrified wire, one of which would receive the sound-vibrations and the other of which would reproduce them after they had been transmitted along the wire. At last the experimenter was on the right track, with a conception of a practicable method of transmitting sound. He now possessed a theoretical knowledge of what the telephone he sought should be, but there yet remained before him the enormous task of devising and constructing the apparatus which would carry out the idea, and find the best way of utilizing the electrical current for this work. Bell was now at a critical point in his career and was confronted by the same difficulty which assails so many inventors. In his constant efforts to achieve a telephone he had entirely neglected his school of vocal physiology, which was now abandoned. Georgie Sanders and Mabel Hubbard were his only pupils. Though Sanders and Hubbard were genuinely interested in Bell and his work, they felt that he was impractical, and were especially convinced that his experiments with the ear and its imitations were entirely useless. They believed that the electrical telegraph alone presented possibilities, and they told Bell that unless he would devote himself entirely to the improvement of this instrument and cease wasting time and money over ear toys that had no commercial value they would no longer give him financial support. Hubbard went even further, and insisted that if Bell did not abandon his foolish notions he could not marry his daughter. Bell was almost without funds, his closest friends now seemed to turn upon him, and altogether he was in a sorry plight. Of course Sanders and Hubbard meant the best, yet in reality they were seeking to drive their protégé in exactly the wrong direction. As far back as 1860 a German scientist named Philipp Reis produced a musical telephone that even transmitted a few imperfect words. But it would not talk successfully. Others had followed in his footsteps, using the musical telephone to transmit messages with the Morse code by means of long and short hums. Elisha Gray, of Chicago, also experimented with the musical telegraph. At the transmitting end a vibrating steel tongue served to interrupt the electric current which passed over the wire in waves, and, passing through the coils of an electro-magnet at the receiving end, caused another strip of steel located near the magnet to vibrate and so produce a tone which varied with the current. All of these developments depended upon the interruption of the current by some kind of a vibrating contact. The limitations which Sanders and Hubbard sought to impose upon Bell, had they been obeyed to the letter, must have prevented his ultimate success. In a letter to his mother at this time, he said: I am now beginning to realize the cares and anxieties of being an inventor. I have had to put off all pupils and classes, for flesh and blood could not stand much longer such a strain as I have had upon me. But good fortune was destined to come to Bell along with the bad. On an enforced trip to Washington to consult his patent attorney--a trip he could scarce raise funds to make--Bell met Prof. Joseph Henry. We have seen the part which this eminent scientist had played in the development of the telegraph. Now he was destined to aid Bell, as he had aided Morse a generation earlier. The two men spent a day over the apparatus which Bell had with him. Though Professor Henry was fifty years his senior and the leading scientist in America, the youth was able to demonstrate that he had made a real discovery. "You are in possession of the germ of a great invention," said Henry, "and I would advise you to work at it until you have made it complete." "But," replied Bell, "I have not got the electrical knowledge that is necessary." "Get it," was Henry's reply. This proved just the stimulus Bell needed, and he returned to Boston with a new determination to perfect his great idea. Bell was no longer experimenting in the Sanderses' cellar, having rented a room in Boston in which to carry on his work. He had also secured the services of an assistant, one Thomas Watson, who received nine dollars a week for his services in Bell's behalf. The funds for this work were supplied by Sanders and Hubbard jointly, but they insisted that Bell should continue his experiments with the musical telegraph. Though he was convinced that the opportunities lay in the field of telephony, Bell labored faithfully for regular periods with the devices in which his patrons were interested. The remainder of his time and energy he put upon the telephone. The basis of his telephone was still the disk or diaphragm which would vibrate when the sound-waves of the voice were thrown against it. Behind this were mounted various kinds of electro-magnets in series with the electrified wire over which the inventor hoped to send his messages. For three years they labored with this apparatus, trying every conceivable sort of disk. It is easy to pass over those three years, filled as they were with unceasing toil and patient effort, because they were drab years when little of interest occurred. But these were the years when Bell and Watson were "going to school," learning how to apply electricity to this new use, striving to make their apparatus talk. How dreary and trying these years must have been for the experimenters we may well imagine. It requires no slight force of will to hold oneself to such a task in the face of failure after failure. By June of 1875 Bell had completed a new Instrument. In this the diaphragm was a piece of gold-beater's skin, which Bell had selected as most closely resembling the drum in the human ear. This was stretched tight to form a sort of drum, and an armature of magnetized iron was fastened to its middle. Thus the bit of iron was free to vibrate, and opposite it was an electro-magnet through which flowed the current that passed over the line. This acted as the receiver. At the other end of the wire was a sort of crude harmonica with a clock spring, reed, and magnet. Bell and Watson had been working upon their crude apparatus for months, and finally, on June 2d, sounds were actually transmitted. Bell was afire with enthusiasm; the first great step had been taken. The electric current had carried sound-vibrations along the wire and had reproduced them. If this could be done a telephone which would reproduce whole words and sentences could be attained. [Illustration: ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL] [Illustration: THOMAS A. WATSON] So great was Bell's enthusiasm over this achievement that he succeeded in convincing Sanders and Hubbard that his idea was practical, and they at last agreed to finance him in his further experiments with the telephone. A second membrane receiver was constructed, and for many more weeks the experiments continued. It was found that sounds were carried from instrument to instrument, but as a telephone they were still far from perfection. It was not until March of 1876 that Bell, speaking into the instrument in the workroom, was heard and understood by Watson at the other instrument in the basement. The telephone had carried and delivered an intelligible message. The telephone which Bell had invented, and on which he received a patent on his twenty-ninth birthday, consisted of two instruments similar in principle to what we would now call receivers. If you will experiment with the receiver of a modern telephone you will find that it will transmit as well as receive sound. The heart of the transmitter was an electro-magnet in front of which was a drum-like membrane with a piece of iron cemented to its center opposite the magnet. A mouthpiece was arranged to throw the sounds of the voice against the diaphragm, and as the membrane vibrated the bit of iron upon it--acting as an armature--induced currents corresponding to the sound-waves, in the coils of the electro-magnet. Passing over the line the current entered the coils of the tubular electro-magnet in the receiver. A thin disk of soft iron was fastened at the end of this. When the current-waves passed through the coils of the magnet the iron disk was thrown into vibration, thus producing sound. As it vibrated with the current produced by the iron on the vibrating membrane in the transmitter acting as an armature, transmitter and receiver vibrated in unison and so the same sound was given off by the receiver and made audible to the human ear as was thrown against the membrane of the transmitter by the voice. The patent issued to Bell has been described as "the most valuable single patent ever issued." Certainly it was destined to be of tremendous service to civilization. It was so entirely new and original that Bell found difficulty in finding terms in which to describe his invention to the patent officials. He called it "an improvement on the telegraph," in order that it might be identified as an improvement in transmitting intelligence by electricity. In reality the telephone was very far from being a telegraph or anything in the nature of a telegraph. As Bell himself stated, his success was in large part due to the fact that he had approached the problem from the viewpoint of an expert in sound rather than as an electrician. "Had I known more about electricity and less about sound," he said, "I would never have invented the telephone." As we have seen, those electricians who worked from the viewpoint of the telegraph never got beyond the limitations of the instrument and found that with it they could transmit signals but not sounds. Bell, with his knowledge of the laws of speech and sound, started with the principles of the transmission of sound as a basis and set electricity to carrying the sound-vibrations. XIII THE TELEPHONE AT THE CENTENNIAL Boll's Impromptu Trip to the Exposition--The Table Under the Stairs--Indifference of the Judges--Enter Don Pedro, Emperor of Brazil--Attention and Amazement--Skepticism of the Public--The Aid of Gardiner Hubbard--Publicity Campaign. The Philadelphia Centennial Exposition--America's first great exposition--opened within a month after the completion of the first telephone. The public knew nothing of the telephone, and before it could be made a commercial success and placed in general service the interest of investors and possible users had to be aroused. The Centennial seemed to offer an unusual opportunity to place the telephone before the public. But Bell, like Morse, had no money with which to push his invention. Hubbard was one of the commissioners of the exposition, and exerted his influence sufficiently so that a small table was placed in an odd corner in the Department of Education for the exhibition of the apparatus. The space assigned was a narrow strip between the stairway and the wall. But no provision was made to allow Bell himself to be present. The young inventor was almost entirely without funds. Sanders and Hubbard had paid nothing but his room rent and the cost of his experiments. He had devoted himself to his inventions so entirely that he had lost all of his professional income. So it was that he was forced to face the prospect of staying in Boston and allowing this opportunity of opportunities to pass unimproved. His fiancée, Miss Hubbard, expected to attend the exposition, and had heard nothing of Bell's inability to go. He went with her to the station, and as the train was leaving she learned for the first time that he was not to accompany her. She burst into tears at the disappointment. Seeing this, Bell dashed madly after the train and succeeded in boarding it. Without money or baggage, he nevertheless succeeded in arriving in Philadelphia. Bell arrived at the exposition but a few days before the judges were to make their tour of inspection. With considerable difficulty Hubbard had secured their promise that they would stop and examine the telephone. They seemed to regard it as a toy not worth their attention, and the public generally had displayed no interest in the device. When the day for the inspection arrived Bell waited eagerly. As the day passed his hope began to fall, as there seemed little possibility that the judges would reach his exhibit. The Western Union's exhibit of recording telegraphs, the self-binding harvester, the first electric light, Gray's musical telegraph, and other prominently displayed wonders had occupied the attention of the scientists. It was well past supper-time when they came to Bell's table behind the stairs, and most of the judges were tired out and loudly announced their intention of quitting then and there. At this critical moment, while they were fingering Bell's apparatus indifferently and preparing for their departure, a strange and fortunate thing occurred. Followed by a group of brilliantly attired courtiers, the Emperor of Brazil appeared. He rushed up to Bell and greeted him with a warmth of affection that electrified the indifferent judges. They watched the scene in astonishment, wondering who this young Bell was that he could attract the attention and the friendship of the Emperor. The Emperor had attended Bell's school for deaf mutes in Boston when it was at the height of its success, and had conceived a warm admiration for the young man and taken a deep interest in his work. The Emperor was ready to examine Bell's invention, though the judges were not. Bell showed him how to place his ear to the receiver, and he then went to the transmitter which had been placed at the other end of the wire strung along the room. The Emperor waited expectantly, the judges watched curiously. Bell, at a distance, spoke into the transmitter. In utter wonderment the Emperor raised his head from the receiver. "My God," he cried, "it talks!" Skepticism and indifference were at an end among the judges, and they eagerly followed the example of the Emperor. Joseph Henry, the most venerable savant of them all, took his place at the receiver. Though his previous talk with Bell, when the telephone was no more than an idea, should perhaps have prepared him, he showed equal astonishment, and instantly expressed his admiration. Next followed Sir William Thomson, the hero of the cable and England's greatest scientist. After his return to England Thomson described his sensations. "I heard," he said, "'To be or not to be ... there's the rub,' through an electric wire; but, scorning monosyllables, the electric articulation rose to higher flights, and gave me passages from the New York newspapers. All this my own ears heard spoken to me with unmistakable distinctness by the then circular-disk armature of just such another little electro-magnet as this I hold in my hand." Thomson pronounced Bell's telephone "the most wonderful thing he had seen in America." The judges had forgotten that they were hungry and tired, and remained grouped about the telephone, talking and listening in turn until far into the evening. With the coming of the next morning Bell's exhibit was moved from its obscure corner and given the most prominent place that could be found. From that time forward it was the wonder of the Centennial. [Illustration: PROFESSOR BELL'S VIBRATING REED] [Illustration: PROFESSOR BELL'S FIRST TELEPHONE] [Illustration: THE FIRST TELEPHONE SWITCHBOARD USED IN NEW HAVEN, CONN, FOR EIGHT SUBSCRIBERS] [Illustration: EARLY NEW YORK EXCHANGE Boys were employed as operators at first, but they were not adapted to the work so well as girls.] [Illustration: PROFESSOR BELL IN SALEM, MASS., AND MR. WATSON IN BOSTON, DEMONSTRATING THE TELEPHONE BEFORE AUDIENCES IN 1877] [Illustration: DR BELL AT THE TELEPHONE OPENING THE NEW YORK-CHICAGO LINE, OCTOBER 18, 1892] Yet but a small part of the public could attend the exposition and actually test the telephone for themselves. Many of these believed that it was a hoax, and general skepticism still prevailed. Business men, though they were convinced that the telephone would carry spoken messages, nevertheless insisted that it presented no business possibilities. Hubbard, however, had faith in the invention, and as Bell was not a business man, he took upon himself the work of promotion--the necessary, valuable work which must be accomplished before any big idea or invention may be put at the service of the public. Hubbard's first move was to plan a publicity campaign which should bring the new invention favorably to the attention of all, prove its claims, and silence the skeptics. They were too poor to set up an experimental line of their own, and so telegraph lines were borrowed for short periods wherever possible, demonstrations were given and tests made. The assistance of the newspapers was invoked and news stories of the tests did much to popularize the new idea. An opportunity then came to Bell to lecture and demonstrate the telephone before a scientific body in Essex. He secured the use of a telegraph line and connected the hall with the laboratory in Boston. The equipment consisted of old-fashioned box 'phones over a foot long and eight inches square, built about an immense horseshoe magnet. Watson was stationed in the Boston laboratory. Bell started his lecture, with Watson constantly listening over the telephone. Bell would stop from time to time and ask that the ability of the telephone to transmit certain kinds of sounds be illustrated. Musical instruments were played in Boston and heard in Essex; then Watson talked, and finally he was instructed to sing. He insisted that he was not a singer, but the voices of others less experienced in speaking over the crude instruments often failed to carry sufficiently well for demonstration purposes. So Watson sang, as best he could, "Yankee Doodle," "Auld Lang Syne," and other favorites. After the lecture had been completed members of the audience were invited to talk over the telephone. A few of them mustered confidence to talk with Watson in Boston, and the newspaper reporters carefully noted down all the details of the conversation. The lecture aroused so much interest that others were arranged. The first one had been free, but admission was charged for the later lectures and this income was the first revenue Bell had received for his invention. The arrangements were generally the same for each of the lectures about Boston. The names of Longfellow, of Holmes, and of other famous American men of letters are found among the patrons of some of the lectures in Boston. Bell desired to give lectures in New York City, but was not certain that his apparatus would operate at that distance over the lines available. The laboratory was on the third floor of a rooming-house, and Watson shouted so loud in his efforts to make his voice carry that the roomers complained. So he took blankets and erected a sort of tent over the instruments to muffle the sound. When the signal came from Bell that he was ready for the test, Watson crawled into the tent and began his shoutings. The day was a hot one, and by the time that the test had been completed Watson was completely wilted. But the complaints of the roomers had been avoided. For one of the New York demonstrations the services of a negro singer with a rich barytone voice had been secured. Watson had no little difficulty in rehearsing him for the part, as he objected to placing his lips close to the transmitter. When the time for the test arrived he persisted in backing away from the mouthpiece when he sang, and, though Watson endeavored to hold the transmitter closer to him, his efforts were of no avail. Finally Bell told Watson that as the negro could not be heard he would have to sing himself. The girl operator in the laboratory had assembled a number of her girl friends to watch the test, and Watson, who did not consider himself a vocalist, did not fancy the prospect. But there was no one else to sing, the demonstration must proceed, and finally Watson struck up "Yankee Doodle" in a quavering voice. The negro looked on in disgust. "Is that what you wanted me to do, boss?" "Yes," replied the embarrassed Watson. "Well, boss, I couldn't sing like that." The telegraph wires which were borrowed to demonstrate the utility of the telephone proved far from perfect for the work at hand. Many of the wires were rusted and the insulation was poor. The stations along the line were likely to cut in their relays when the test was in progress, and Bell's instruments were not arranged to overcome this retardation. However, the lectures were a success from the popular viewpoint. The public flocked to them and the fame of the telephone grew. So many cities desired the lecture that it finally became necessary for Bell to employ an assistant to give the lecture for him. Frederick Gower, a Providence newspaper man, was selected for this task, and soon mastered Bell's lecture. It was then possible to give two lectures on the same evening, Bell delivering one, Gower the other, and Watson handling the laboratory end for both. Gower secured a contract for the exclusive use of the telephone in New England, but failed to demonstrate much ability in establishing the new device on a business basis. How little the possibilities of the telephone were then appreciated we may understand from the fact that Gower exchanged his immensely valuable New England rights for the exclusive right to lecture on the telephone throughout the country. The success of these lectures made it possible for Bell to marry, and he started for England on a wedding-trip. The lectures also aroused the necessary interest and made it possible to secure capital for the establishment of telephone lines. It also determined Hubbard in his plan of leasing the telephones instead of selling them. This was especially important, as it made possible the uniformity of the efficient Bell system of the present day. XIV IMPROVEMENT AND EXPANSION The First Telephone Exchange--The Bell Telephone Association--Theodore N. Vail--The Fight with the Western Union--Edison and Blake Invent Transmitters--Last Effort of the Western Union--Mushroom Companies and Would-be Inventors--The Controversy with Gray--Dolbear's Claims--The Drawbaugh Case--On a Firm Footing. Through public interest had been aroused in the telephone, it was still very far from being at the service of the nation. The telephone increases in usefulness just in proportion to the number of your acquaintances and business associates who have telephones in their homes or offices. Instruments had to be manufactured on a commercial scale, telephone systems had to be built up. While the struggles of the inventor who seeks to apply a new idea are often romantic, the efforts of the business executives who place the invention, once it is achieved, at the service of people everywhere, are not less praiseworthy and interesting. A very few telephones had been leased to those who desired to establish private lines, but it was not until May of 1877 that the first telephone system was established with an exchange by means of which those having telephones might talk with one another. There was a burglar-alarm system in Boston which had wires running from six banks to a central station. The owner of this suggested that telephones be installed in the banks using the burglar-alarm wires. Hubbard gladly loaned the instruments for the purpose. Instruments were installed in the banks without saying anything to the bankers, or making any charge for the service. One banker demanded that his telephone be removed, insisting that it was a foolish toy. But even with the crude little exchange the first system proved its worth. Others were established in New York, Philadelphia, and other cities on a commercial basis. A man from Michigan appeared and secured the perpetual rights for his State, and for his foresight and enterprise he was later to be rewarded by the sale of these rights for a quarter of a million dollars. The free service to the Boston bankers was withdrawn and a commercial system installed there. But these exchanges served but a few people, and were poorly equipped. There was, of course, no provision for communication between cities. With the telephone over a year old, less than a thousand instruments were in use. But Hubbard, who was directing the destinies of the enterprise during Bell's absence in Europe, decided that the time had come to organize. Accordingly the Bell Telephone Association was formed, with Bell, Hubbard, Sanders, and Watson as the shareholders. Sanders was the only one of the four with any considerable sum of money, and his resources were limited. He staked his entire credit in the enterprise, and managed to furnish funds with which the fight for existence could be carried on. But a business depression was upon the land and it was not easy to secure support for the telephone. The entrance of the Western Union Telegraph Company into the telephone field brought the affairs of the Bell company to a crisis. As we have seen, the telegraph company had developed into a great and powerful corporation with wires stretching across the length and breadth of the land and agents and offices established in every city and town of importance. Once the telephone began to be used as a substitute for the telegraph in conveying messages, the telegraph officials awoke to the fact that here, possibly, was a dangerous rival, and dropped the viewpoint that Bell's telephone was a mere plaything. They acquired the inventions of Edison, Gray, and Dolbear, and entered the telephone field, announcing that they were prepared to furnish the very best in telephonic communication. This sudden assault by the most powerful corporation in America, while it served to arouse public confidence in the telephone, made it necessary for Hubbard to reorganize his forces and find a general capable of doing battle against such a foe. Hubbard's political activities had brought to him a Presidential appointment as head of a commission on mail transportation. In the course of the work for the Government he had come much in contact with a young man named Theodore N. Vail, who was head of the Government mail service. He had been impressed by Vail's ability and had in turn introduced Vail to the telephone and aroused his enthusiasm in its possibilities. This Vail was a cousin of the Alfred Vail who was Morse's co-worker, and who played so prominent a part in the development of the telegraph. His experience in the Post-office Department had given him an understanding of the problems of communication in the United States, and had developed his executive ability. Realizing the possibilities of the telephone, he relinquished his governmental post and cast his fortunes with the telephone pioneers, becoming general manager of the Bell company. The Western Union strengthened its position by the introduction of a new and improved transmitter. This was the work of Thomas Edison, and was so much better than Bell's transmitter that it enabled the Western Union to offer much better telephonic equipment. As we have seen, Bell's transmitter and receiver were very similar, being about the same as the receiver now in common use. In his transmitter Edison placed tiny bits of carbon in contact with the diaphragm. As the diaphragm vibrated under the sound-impulses the pressure upon the carbon granules was varied. An electric current was passed through the carbon particles, whose electrical resistance was varied by the changing pressure from the diaphragm. Thus the current was thrown into undulations corresponding to the sound-waves, and passed over the line and produced corresponding sounds in the receiver. Much stronger currents could be utilized than those generated by Bell's instrument, and thus the transmitter was much more effective for longer distances. Bell returned from Europe to find the affairs of his company in a sorry plight. Only the courage and generalship of Vail kept it in the field at all. Bell was penniless, having failed to establish the telephone abroad, even as Morse before him had failed to secure foreign revenue from his invention. Bell's health failed him, and as he lay helpless in the hospital his affairs were indeed at a low ebb. At this juncture Francis Blake, of Boston, came forward with an improved transmitter which he offered to the Bell company in exchange for stock. The instrument proved a success and was gladly adopted, proving just what was needed to make possible successful competition with the Western Union. Prolonged patent litigation followed, and after a bitter legal struggle the Western Union officials became convinced of two things: one, that the Bell company, under Vail's leadership, would not surrender; second, that Bell was the original inventor of the telephone and that his patent was valid. The Western Union, however, seemed to have strong basis for its claim that the new transmitter of the Bell people was an infringement of Edison's patent. A compromise was arranged between the contestants by which the two companies divided the business of furnishing communication by wire in the United States. This agreement proved of the greatest benefit to both organizations, and did much to make possible the present development and universal service of both the telephone and telegraph. By the terms of the agreement the Western Union recognized Bell's patent and agreed to withdraw from the telephone business. The Bell company agreed not to engage in the telegraph business and to take over the Western Union telephone system and apparatus, paying a royalty on all telephone rentals. Experience has demonstrated that the two businesses are not competitive, but supplement each other. It is therefore proper that they should work side by side with mutual understanding. Success had come at last to the telephone pioneers. Other battles were still to be fought before their position was to be made secure, but from the moment when the Western Union admitted defeat the Bell company was the leader. The stock of the company advanced to a point where Bell, Hubbard, Sanders, and Watson found themselves in the possession of wealth as a reward for their pioneering. The Western Union had no sooner withdrawn as a competitor of the Bell organization than scores of small, local companies sprang up, all ready to pirate the Bell patent and push the claims of some rival inventor. A very few of them really tried to establish telephone systems, but the majority were organized simply to sell stock to a gullible public. They stirred up a continuous turmoil, and made much trouble for the larger company, though their patent claims were persistently defeated in the courts. Most of the rival claimants who sprang up, once the telephone had become an established fact and had proved its value, were men of neither prominence nor scientific attainments. Of a very different type was Elisha Gray, whose work we have before noticed, and who now came forward with the claim that he had invented a telephone in advance of Bell. Gray was a practical man of real scientific attainments, but, as we have noticed, his efforts in search of a telephone were from the viewpoint of a musical telegraph and so destined to failure. It has frequently been stated that Gray filed his application for a patent on a telephone of his invention but a few minutes after Bell, and so Bell wrested the honor from him by the scantiest of margins. A careful reading of the testimony brought out in Gray's suit against Bell does not support such a statement. While Bell filed an application for a patent on a completed, invention, Gray filed, a few moments later, a caveat. This was a document, stating that he hoped to invent a telephone of a certain kind therein stated, and would serve to protect his rights until he should have time to perfect it. Thus Gray did not have a completed invention, and he later failed to perfect a telephone along the lines described in his caveat. The decision of the court supported Bell's claims in full. Another of the Western Union's telephone experts, Professor Dolbear, of Tufts College, also sought to make capital of his knowledge of the telephone. He based his claims upon an improvement of the Reis musical telegraph, which had formed the starting-point for so many experimenters. The case fell flat, however, for when the apparatus was brought into court no one could make it talk. None of the attacks upon Bell's claim to be the original inventor of the telephone aroused more popular interest at the time than the famous Drawbaugh case. Daniel Drawbaugh was a country mechanic with a habit of reading of the new inventions in the scientific journals. He would work out models of many of these for himself, and, showing them very proudly, often claim them as his own devices. Drawbaugh was now put forward by the opponents of the Bell organization as having invented a telephone before Bell. It was claimed that he had been too poor to secure a patent or to bring his invention to popular notice. Much sympathy was thus aroused for him and the legal battle was waged to interminable length, with the usual result. Bell's patent was again sustained, and Drawbaugh's claims were pronounced without merit. Many other legal battles followed, but the dominance of the Bell organization, resting upon the indisputable fact that Bell was the first man to conceive and execute a practical telephone, could not be shaken. The telephone business was on a firm footing: it had demonstrated its real service to the public; it had become a necessity; and, under the able leadership of Vail, was fast extending its field of usefulness. XV TELEGRAPHING WITHOUT WIRES The First Suggestion--Morse Sends Messages Through the Water--Trowbridge Telegraphs Through the Earth--Experiments of Preece and Heaviside in England--Edison Telegraphs from Moving Trains--Researches of Hertz Disclose the Hertzian Waves. Great as are the possibilities of the telegraph and the telephone in the service of man, these instruments are still limited to the wires over which they must operate. Communication was not possible until wires had been strung; where wires could not be strung communication was impossible. Much yet remained to be done before perfection in communication was attained, and, though the public generally considered the telegraph, and the telephone the final achievement, men of science were already searching for an even better way. The first suggestion that electric currents carrying messages might some day travel without wires seems to have come from K.A. Steinheil, of Munich. In 1838 he discovered that if the two ends of a single wire carrying the electric current be connected with the ground a complete circuit is formed, the earth acting as the return. Thus he was able to dispense with one wire, and he suggested that some day it might be possible to eliminate the wire altogether. The fact that the current bearing messages could be sent through the water was demonstrated by Morse as early as 1842. He placed plates at the termini of a circuit and submerged them in water some distance apart on one side of a canal. Other plates were placed on the opposite side of the waterway and were connected by a wire with a sensitive galvanometer in series to act as a receiver. Currents sent from the opposite side were recorded by the galvanometer and the possibility of communication through the water was established. Others carried these experiments further, it being even suggested that messages might be sent across the Atlantic by this method. But Bell's greatest contribution to the search for wireless telegraphy was not his direct work in this field, but the telephone itself. His telephone receiver provided the wireless experimenters with an instrument of extreme sensitiveness by which they were able to detect currents which the mirror galvanometer could not receive. While experimenting with a telephone along a telegraph line a curious phenomenon was noticed. The telephone experimenters heard music very clearly. They investigated and found that another telegraph wire, strung along the same poles, but at the usual distance and with the usual insulation, was being used for a test of Edison's musical telephone. Many other similar tests were made and the effect was always noted. In some way the message on one line had been conveyed across the air-gap and had been recorded by the telephones on the other line. It was decided that this had been caused by induction. Prof. John Trowbridge, of Harvard University, might well be termed the grandfather of wireless telegraphy. He made the first extensive investigation of the subject, and his experiments in sending messages without wires and his discoveries furnished information and inspiration for those who were to follow. His early experiments tested the possibility of using the earth as a conductor. He demonstrated that when an electric current is sent into the earth it spreads from that point in waves in all directions, just as when a stone is cast into a pond the ripples widen out from that point, becoming fainter and fainter until they reach the shore. He further found that these currents could be detected by grounding the terminals of a telephone circuit. Telegraphy through the earth was thus possible. However, the farther the receiving station was from the sending station the wider must be the distance between the telephone terminals and the smaller the current received. Professor Trowbridge did not find it possible to operate his system at a sufficient distance to make it of value, but he did demonstrate that the currents do travel through the earth and that they can be set to carrying messages. Professor Trowbridge also revived the idea of telegraphing across the Atlantic by utilizing the conductivity of the sea-water to carry the currents. In working out the plan theoretically he discovered that the terminals on the American side would have to be widely separated--one in Nova Scotia and the other in Florida--and that they would have to be connected by an insulated cable. Two widely separated points on the coast of France were suggested for the other terminals. He also calculated that very high voltages would be necessary, and the practical difficulties involved made it seem certain that such a system would cost far too much to construct and to operate to be profitable. Trowbridge suggested the possibility of using such a system for establishing communication between ships at sea. Ship could communicate with ship, over short distances, during a fog. A trailing wire was to be used to increase the sending and receiving power, and Trowbridge believed that with a dynamo capable of supplying current for a hundred lights, communication could be established at a distance of half a mile. Not satisfied with the earth or the sea as a medium for carrying the current, Trowbridge essayed to use the air. He believed that this was possible, and that it would be accomplished at no distant date. He believed, however, that such a system could not be operated over considerable distances because of the curvature of the earth. He endeavored to establish communication through the air by induction. He demonstrated that if one coil of wire be set up and a current sent through it, a similar coil facing it will have like currents induced within it, which may be detected with a telephone receiver. He also determined that the currents were strongest in the receiving coil when it was placed in a plane parallel with the sending coil. By turning the receiving coil about until the sound was strongest in the telephone receiver, it was thus possible to determine the direction from which the messages were coming. Trowbridge recognized the great value of this feature to a ship at sea. But these induced currents could only be detected at a distance by the use of enormous coils. To receive at a half-mile a coil of eight hundred feet radius would have been necessary, and this was obviously impossible for use on shipboard. So these experiments also developed no practical improvement in the existing means of communication. But Professor Trowbridge had demonstrated new possibilities, and had set men thinking along new lines. He was the pioneer who pointed the way to a great invention, though he himself failed to attain it. Bell followed up Trowbridge's suggestions of using the water as a medium of communication, and in a series of experiments conducted on the Potomac River established communication between moving ships. Professor Dolbear also turned from telephone experimentation to the search for the wireless. He grounded his wires and sent high currents into the earth, but improved his system and took another step toward the final achievement by adding a large induction coil to his sending equipment. He suggested that the spoken word might be sent as well as dots and dashes, and so sought the wireless telephone as well as the wireless telegraph. Like his predecessors, his experiments were successful only at short distances. The next application of the induction telegraph was to establish communication with moving trains. Several experimenters had suggested it, but it remained for Thomas A. Edison to actually accomplish it. He set up a plate of tin-foil on the engine or cars, opposite the telegraph wires. Currents could be induced across the gap, no matter what the speed of the train, and, traveling along the wires to the station, communication was thus established. Had Edison continued his investigation further, instead of turning to other pursuits, he might have achieved the means of communicating through the air at considerable distances. These experiments by Americans in the early 'eighties seemed to promise that America was to produce the wireless telegraph, as it had produced the telegraph and the telephone. But the greatest activity now shifted to Europe and the American men of science failed to push their researches to a successful conclusion. Sir W.H. Preece, an Englishman, brought himself to public notice by establishing communication with the Isle of Wight by Morse's method. Messages were sent and received during a period when the cable to the island was out of commission, and thus telegraphing without wires was put to practical use. Preece carried his experiments much further. In 1885 he laid out two great squares of insulated wire, a quarter of a mile to the side, and at a distance of a quarter of a mile from each other. Telephonic communication was established between them, and thus he had attained wireless telephony by induction. In 1887, another Englishman, A.W. Heaviside, laid circuits over two miles long on the surface and other circuits in the galleries of a coal-mine three hundred and fifty feet below, and established communication between the circuits. Working together, Preece and Heaviside extended the distances over which they could communicate. Preece finally decided that a combination of conduction and induction was the best means of wireless communication. He grounded the wire of his circuit at two points and raised it to a considerable height between these points. Preece's work was to put the theories of Professor Trowbridge to practical use and thus bring the final achievement a step nearer. But conduction and induction combined would not carry messages to a distance that would enable extensive communication. A new medium had yet to be found, and this was the work of Heinrich Hertz, a young German scientist. He was experimenting with two flat coils of wire, as had many others before him, but one of the coils had a small gap in it. Passing the discharge from a condenser into this coil, Hertz discovered that the spark caused when the current jumped the gap set up electrical vibrations that excited powerful currents in the other coil. These currents were noticeable, though the coils were a very considerable distance apart. Thus Hertz had found out how to send out electrical waves that would travel to a considerable distance. What was the medium that carried these waves? This was the question that Hertz asked himself, and the answer was, the ether. We know that light will pass through a vacuum, and these electric waves would do likewise. It was evident that they did not pass through the air. The answer, as evolved by Hertz and approved by other scientists, is that they travel through the ether, a strange substance which pervades all space. Hertz discovered that light and his electrical waves traveled at the same speed, and so deduced that light consists of electrical vibrations in the ether. With the knowledge that this all-pervading ether would carry electric waves at the speed of light, that the waves could be set up by the discharge of a spark across a spark-gap in a coil, and that they could be received in another coil in resonance with the first, the establishment of a practical wireless telegraph was not far away. XVI AN ITALIAN BOY'S WORK The Italian Youth who Dreamed Wonderful Dreams--His Studies--Early Detectors--Marconi Seeks an Efficient Detector--Devises New Sending Methods--The Wireless Telegraph Takes Form--Experimental Success. With the nineteenth century approaching its close, man had discovered that the electric waves would travel through the ether; he had learned something of how to propagate those waves, and something of how to receive them. But no one had yet been able to combine these discoveries in practical form, to apply them to the task of carrying messages, to make the improvements necessary to make them available for use at considerable distances. Though many mature scientists had devoted themselves to the problem, it remained for a youth to solve it. The youth was Guglielmo Marconi, an Italian. We have noticed that the telegraph, the cable, and the telephone were the work of those of the Anglo-Saxon race--Englishmen or Americans--so it came as a distinct surprise that an Italian youth should make the next great application of electricity to communication. But Anglo-Saxon blood flows in Marconi's veins. Though his father was an Italian, his mother was an Irishwoman. He was born at Villa Griffone near Bologna, Italy, on April 25, 1874. He studied in the schools of Bologna and of Florence, and early showed his interest in scientific affairs. From his mother he learned English, which he speaks as fluently as he does his native tongue. As a boy he was allowed to attend English schools for short periods, spending some time at Bedford and at Rugby. One of his Italian teachers was Professor Righi, who had made a close study of the Hertzian waves, and who was himself making no small contributions to the advancement of the science. From him young Marconi learned of the work which had been accomplished, and of the apparatus which was then available. Marconi was a quiet boy--almost shy. He did not display the aggressive energy so common with many promising youths. But though he was quiet, he was not slothful. He entered into his studies with a determination and an application that brought to him great results. He was a student and a thinker. Any scientific book or paper which came before him was eagerly devoured. It was this habit of careful and persistent study that made it possible for Marconi to accomplish such wonderful things at an early age. Marconi had learned of the Hertzian waves. It occurred to him that by their aid wireless telegraphy might be accomplished. The boy saw the wonderful possibilities; he dreamed dreams of how these waves might carry messages from city to city, from ship to shore, and from continent to continent without wires. He realized his own youth and inexperience, and it seemed certain to him that many able scientists had had the same vision and must be struggling toward its attainment. For a year Marconi dreamed those dreams, studying the books and papers which would tell him more of these wonderful waves. Each week he expected the news that wireless telegraphy had been established, but the news never came. Finally he concluded that others, despite their greater opportunities, had not been so far-seeing as he had thought. Marconi attacked the problem himself with the dogged persistence and the studious care so characteristic of him. He began his experiments upon his father's farm, the elder Marconi encouraging the youth and providing him with funds with which to purchase apparatus. He set up poles at the opposite sides of the garden and on them mounted the simple sending and receiving instruments which were then available, using plates of tin for his aerials. He set up a simple spark-gap, as had Hertz, and used a receiving device little more elaborate. A Morse telegraph-key was placed in circuit with the spark-gap. When the key was held down for a longer period a long spark passed between the brass knobs of the spark-gap and a dash was thus transmitted. When the key was depressed for a shorter period a dot in the Morse code was sent forth. After much work and adjustment Marconi was able to send a message across the garden. Others had accomplished this for similar distances, but they lacked Marconi's imagination and persistence, and failed to carry their experiments further. To the young Irish-Italian this was but a starting-point. [Illustration: GUGLIELMO MARCONI Photographed in the uniform of an officer in the Italian army] Marconi quickly found that the receiver was the least effective part of the existing apparatus. The waves spread in all directions from the sending station and become feebler and feebler as the distance increases. To make wireless telegraphy effective over any considerable distance a highly efficient and extremely sensitive receiving device is necessary. Some special means of detecting the feeble currents was necessary. The coherer was the solution. As early as 1870 a Mr. S.A. Varley, an Englishman, had discovered that when he endeavored to send a current through a mass of carbon granules the tiny particles arranged themselves in order under the influence of the electric current, and offered a free path for the passage of the current. When shaken apart they again resisted the flow of current until it became powerful enough to cause them to again arrange themselves into a sort of bridge for its passage. Thus was the principle of the coherer discovered. An Italian scientist, Professor Calzecchi-Onesti, carried these experiments still further. He used various substances in place of the carbon granules and showed that some of them will arrange themselves so as to allow the passage of a current under the influence of the spark setting up the Hertzian waves. Professor E. Branly, of the Catholic University of Paris, took up this work in 1890. He arranged metal filings in a small glass tube six inches long and arranged a tapper to disarrange the filings after they had been brought together under the influence of the spark. With the Branly coherer as the basis Marconi sought to make improvements which would result in the detector he was seeking. For his powder he used nickel, mixed with a small proportion of fine silver filings. This he placed between silver plugs in a small glass tube. Platinum wires were connected to the silver plugs and brought out at the opposite ends of the tube. It required long study to determine just how to adjust the plugs between which the powder was loosely arranged. If the particles were pressed together too tightly they would not fall apart readily enough under the influence of the tapper. If too much space was allowed they would not cohere readily enough. Marconi also discovered that a larger proportion of silver in the powder and a smaller amount between the plugs increased the sensitiveness of the receiver. Yet he found it well not to have it too sensitive lest it cohere for every stray current and so give false signals. Under the influence of the electric waves set up from the spark-gap those tiny particles so arranged themselves that they would readily carry a current between the plugs. By placing these plugs with their platinum terminals in circuit with a local battery the current from this local battery was given a passage through the coherer by the action of the electric waves coming through the ether. While these waves themselves were too feeble to operate a receiving mechanism, they were strong enough to arrange the particles of the sensitive metal in the tube in order, so that the current from the local battery could pass through them. This current operated a telegraph relay which in turn operated a Morse receiving instrument. An electrical tapper was also arranged in this circuit so that it would strike the tube a light blow after each long or short wave representing a dot or a dash had been received. Thus the particles were disarranged, ready to array themselves when the next wave came through the ether and so form the bridge over which the stronger local circuit could convey the signal. Marconi further discovered that the most effective arrangement was to run a wire from one terminal of the coherer into the ground, and from the other to an elevated metal plate or wire. The waves coming through the ether were received by the elevated wire and were conducted down to the coherer. Experimenting with his apparatus on the posts in the garden, he discovered that an increase in the height of the wire greatly increased the receiving distance. At his sending station he used the exciter of his teacher, Professor Righi. This, too, he modified and perfected for his practical purpose. As he used the device it consisted of two brass spheres a millimeter apart. An envelope was provided so that the sides of the spheres toward each other and the space between was occupied by vaseline oil which served to keep the faces of the spheres clean and produce a more uniform spark. Outside the two spheres, but in line with them, were placed two smaller spheres at a distance of about two-fifths of a centimeter. The terminals of the sending circuit were attached to these. The secondary coil of a large induction coil was placed in series with them, and batteries were wired in series with the primary of the coil with a sending key to make and break the circuit. When the key was closed a series of sparks sprang across the spark-gap, and the waves were thus set up in the ether and carried the message to the receiving station. As in the case of his receiving station, Marconi found that results were much improved when he wired his sending apparatus so that one terminal was grounded and the other connected with an elevated wire or aerial, which is now called the antenna. By 1896 Marconi had brought this apparatus to a state of perfection where he could transmit messages to a distance of several miles. This Irish-Italian youth of twenty-two had mastered the problem which had baffled veteran scientists and was ready to place a new wonder at the service of the world. The devices which Marconi thus assembled and put to practical use had been, in the hands of others, little more than scientific toys. Others had studied the Hertzian waves and the methods of sending and detecting them from a purely scientific viewpoint. Marconi had the vision to realize the practical possibilities, and, though little more than a boy, had assembled the whole into a workable system of communication. He richly deserves the laurels and the rewards as the inventor of the wireless telegraph. XVII WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY ESTABLISHED Marconi Goes to England--he Confounds the Skeptics--A Message to France Without Wires--The Attempt to Span the Ocean--Marconi in America Receives the First Message from Europe--Fame and Recognition Achieved. The time had now come for Marconi to introduce himself and his discoveries to the attention of the world. He went to England, and on June 2, 1896, applied for a patent on his system of wireless telegraphy. Soon afterward his plans were submitted to the postal-telegraph authorities. Fortunately for Marconi and for the world, W.H. Preece was then in authority in this department. He himself had experimented with some little success with wireless messages. He was able enough to see the merit in Marconi's discoveries and generous enough to give him full recognition and every encouragement. The apparatus was first set up in the General Post-office in London, another station being located on the roof but a hundred yards away. Though several walls intervened, the Hertzian waves traversed them without difficulty, and messages were sent and received. Stations were then set up on Salisbury Plain, some two miles apart, and communication was established between them. Though the postal-telegraph authorities received Marconi's statements of his discoveries with open mind and put his apparatus to fair tests, the public at large was much less tolerant. The skepticism which met Morse and Bell faced Marconi. Men of science doubted his statements and scoffed at his claims. The Hertzian waves might be all right to operate scientific playthings, they thought, but they were far too uncertain to furnish a medium for carrying messages in any practical way. Then, as progress was made and Marconi began to prove his system, the inevitable jealousies arose. Experimenters who might have invented the wireless telegraph, but who did not, came forward to contest Marconi's claims and to seek to snatch his laurels from him. The young inventor forged steadily ahead, studying and experimenting, devising improved apparatus, meeting the difficulties one by one as they arose. In most of his early experiments he had used a modification of the little tin boxes which had been set up in his father's garden as his original aerials. Having discovered that the height of the aerials increased the range of the stations, he covered a large kite with tin-foil and, sending it up with a wire, used this as an aerial. Balloons were similarly employed. He soon recognized, however, that a practical commercial system, which should be capable of sending and receiving messages day and night, regardless of the weather, could not be operated with kites or balloons. The height of masts was limited, so he sought to increase the range by increasing the electrical power of the current sending forth the sparks from the sending station. Here he was on the right path, and another long step forward had been taken. In the fall of 1897 he set up a mast on the Isle of Wight, one hundred and twenty feet high. From the top of this was strung a single wire and a new series of experiments was begun. Marconi had spent the summer in Italy demonstrating his apparatus, and had established communication between a station on the shore and a war-ship of the Italian Navy equipped with his apparatus. He now secured a small steamer for his experiments from his station on the Isle of Wight and equipped it with a sixty-foot mast. Communication was maintained with the boat day after day, regardless of weather conditions. The distance at which communication could be maintained was steadily increased until communication was established with the mainland. In July of 1898 the wireless demonstrated its utility as a conveyer of news. An enterprising Dublin newspaper desired to cover the Kingstown regatta with the aid of the wireless. In order to do this a land station was erected at Kingstown, and another on board a steamer which followed the yachts. A telephone wire connected the Kingstown station with the newspaper office, and as the messages came by wireless from the ship they were telephoned to Dublin and published in successive editions of the evening papers. This feat attracted so much attention that Queen Victoria sought the aid of the wireless for her own necessities. Her son, the Prince of Wales, lay ill on his yacht, and the aged queen desired to keep in constant communication with him. Marconi accordingly placed one station on the prince's yacht and another at Osborne House, the queen's residence. Communication was readily maintained, and one hundred and fifty messages passed by wireless between the prince and the royal mother. While the electric waves bearing the messages were found to pass through wood, stone, or earth, it was soon noticed in practical operation that when many buildings, or a hill, or any other solid object of size intervened between the stations the waves were greatly retarded and the messages seriously interfered with. When the apparatus was placed on board steel vessels it was found that any part of the vessel coming between the stations checked the communication. Marconi sought to avoid these difficulties by erecting high aerials at every point, so that the waves might pass through the clear air over solid obstructions. Marconi's next effort was to connect France with England. He went to France to demonstrate his apparatus to the French Government and set up a station near Boulogne. The aerial was raised to a height of one hundred and fifty feet. Another station was erected near Folkestone on the English coast, across the Channel. A group of French officials gathered in the little station near Folkestone for the test, which was made on the 27th of March, 1899. Marconi sent the messages, which were received by the station on the French shore without difficulty. Other messages were received from France, and wireless communication between the nations was an accomplished fact. The use of the wireless for ships and lighthouses sprang into favor, and wireless stations were established all around the British coasts so that ships equipped with wireless might keep in communication with the land. The British Admiralty quickly recognized the value of wireless telegraphy to war vessels. While field telegraphs and telephones had served the armies, the navies were still dependent upon primitive signals, since a wire cannot be strung from ship to ship nor from ship to shore. So the British battle-ships were equipped with wireless apparatus and a thorough test was made. A sham battle was held in which all of the orders were sent by wireless, and communication was constantly maintained both between the flag-ships and the vessels of their fleets and between the flag-ships and the shore. Marconi's invention had again proved itself. The wireless early demonstrated its great value as a means of saving life at sea. Lightships off the English coast were equipped with the wireless and were thus enabled to warn ships of impending storms, and on several occasions the wireless was used to summon aid from the shore when ships were sinking because of accidents near the lightship. Following the establishment of communication with France, Marconi increased the range of his apparatus until he was able to cover most of eastern Europe. In one of his demonstrations he sent messages to Italy. His ambition, however, was to send messages across the Atlantic, and he now attacked this stupendous task. On the coast of Cornwall, England, he began the construction of a station which should have sufficient power to send a message to America. Instead of using a single wire for his aerial, he erected many tall poles and strung a number of wires from pole to pole. The comparatively feeble batteries which had furnished the currents used in the earlier efforts were replaced with great power-driven dynamos, and converters were used instead of the induction coil. Thus was the great Poldhu station established. Late in 1901 Marconi crossed to America to superintend the preparations there, and that he himself might be ready to receive the first message, should it prove possible to span the ocean. Signal Hill, near St. John's, Newfoundland was selected as the place for the American station. The expense of building a great aerial for the test was too great, and so dependence was had upon kites to send the wires aloft. For many days Marconi's assistants struggled with the great kites in an effort to get them aloft. At last they flew, carrying the wire to a great height. The wire was carried into a small Government building near by in which Marconi stationed himself. At his ear was a telephone receiver, this having been substituted for the relay and the Morse instrument because of its far greater sensitiveness. Marconi had instructed his operator at Poldhu to send simply the letter "s" at an hour corresponding to 12.30 A.M. in Newfoundland. Great was the excitement and suspense in Cornwall when the hour for the test arrived. Forgetting that they were sleepy, the staff crowded about the sending key, and the little building at the foot of the ring of great masts supporting the aerial shook with the crash of the blinding sparks as the three, dots which form the letter "s" were sent forth. Even greater was the tension on the Newfoundland coast, where Marconi sat eagerly waiting for the signal. Finally it came, three faint ticks in the telephone receiver. The wireless had crossed the Atlantic. Marconi had no sending apparatus, so that it was not until the cable had carried the news that those in England knew that the message had been received. Because Marconi had never made a statement or a claim he had not been able to prove, he had attained a reputation for veracity which made his statement that he had received a signal across the Atlantic carry weight with the scientists. Many, of course, were skeptical, and insisted that the simple signal had come by chance from some ship not far away. But the inventor pushed quietly and steadily ahead, making arrangements to perfect the system and establish it so that it would be of commercial use. Marconi returned to England, but two months later set out for America again on the liner _Philadelphia_ with improved apparatus. He kept in constant communication with his station at Poldhu until the ship was a hundred and fifty miles from shore. Beyond that point he could not send messages, as the sending apparatus on the ship lacked sufficient power. Messages were received, however, until the sending station was over two thousand miles away. This seemed miraculous to those on shipboard, but Marconi accepted it as a matter of course. He had equipped the Poldhu station to send twenty-one hundred miles, and he knew that it should accomplish the feat. A large station was set up at Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and regular communication was established between there and Poldhu. With the establishment of regular transatlantic communication the utility of Marconi's invention, even for work at great distances, was no longer open to question. By quiet, unassuming, conscientious work he had put another great carrier of messages at the service of the world, and he now reaped the fame and fortune which he so richly deserved. XVIII THE WIRELESS SERVES THE WORLD Marconi Organized Wireless Telegraphy Commercially--The New Wonder at the Service of the World--Marine Disasters Prevented--The Extension of the Wireless on Shipboard--Improved Apparatus--The Wireless in the World War--The Boy and the Wireless. With his clear understanding of the possibilities of his invention, Marconi was not long in establishing the wireless upon a commercial basis. He is a man of keen business judgment, and as he brought his invention forward and clearly demonstrated its worth at a time when commercial enterprise was alert he found no great difficulty in establishing his company. The first Marconi company was organized as early as 1897 under the name of the Wireless Telegraph and Signal Company, Limited. This was later displaced by the Marconi Telegraph Company, which operates a regular system of stations on a commercial basis, carrying messages in competition with the cable and telegraph companies. It also erects stations for other companies which are operated under the Marconi patents. With the telegraph and the telephone so well established and serving the needs of ordinary communication on land, it was natural that the wireless should make headway but slowly as a commercial proposition between points on land. For communication at sea, however, it had no competition, and merchant-ships as well as war vessels were rapidly equipped with wireless apparatus. When the great liner _Republic_ was sinking as a result of a collision off the port of New York in 1903 her wireless brought aid. Her passengers and crew were taken off in safety, and what otherwise would have been a terrible disaster was avoided by the use of the wireless. The utility of the wireless was again brought sharply to the attention of the world. It was realized that a wireless set on a passenger-ship was necessary if the lives of the passengers were to be safeguarded. The United States Government by its laws now requires that passenger-ships shall be equipped with wireless apparatus in charge of a competent operator. One of the early objections made to the wireless was its apparent lack of secrecy, since any other receiving apparatus within range of the waves sent forth by the sending station can receive the signals. It was also realized that as soon as any considerable number of stations were established about the world, and began sending messages to and fro, there would be a perfect jumble of waves flying about in all directions through the ether, so that no messages could be sent or received. Marconi's answer to these difficulties was the tuning apparatus. The electric waves carrying the messages may be sent out at widely varying lengths. Marconi found that it was possible to adjust a receiving station so that it would receive only waves of a certain length. Thus stations which desired to communicate could select a certain wave-length, and they could send and receive messages without interfering with others using different wave-lengths, or without the receiving station being confused by messages coming in from other stations using different wave-lengths. You know that when a tuning-fork is set in vibration another of the same pitch near it will vibrate with it, but others of different pitch will not be affected. The operation of wireless stations in tune with each other is similar. [Illustration: A REMARKABLE PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN OUTSIDE OF THE CLIFDEN STATION WHILE MESSAGES WERE BEING SENT ACROSS TO CAPE RACE The camera was exposed for two hours, and the white bars show the sparks leaving the wires for their journey through the air for seventeen hundred miles.] [Illustration: MARCONI STATION AT CLIFDEN, IRELAND These dynamos send a message straight across the ocean.] An example of the value of tuning is afforded by the manner in which press reports are sent from the great Marconi station at Poldhu. Each night at a certain hour this station sends out news reports of the events of the day, using a certain set wave-length. Each ship on the Atlantic and every land station within range which is to receive the reports at that hour adjusts its receiving set to receive waves of that length. In this way they hear nothing but the Poldhu news reports which they desire to receive, and are not troubled by messages from other stations within range. Secrecy is also attained by the use of tuning. It is possible that another station may discover the wave-length being used for a secret message and "listen in," but there are so many possible wave-lengths that this is difficult. Secrecy may also be secured by the use of code messages. Many of the advantages of tuning were lost by the international agreement which provided that but two wave-lengths should be used for commercial work. This, however, enables ships to get in touch with other ships in time of need. With his telephone receivers the operator can hear the passage of the waves as they are brought to him by his aerial and the dots and dashes sound as buzzes of greater or less length. Out of the confusion of currents passing through the air he can select the messages he wishes to read by sound. You may wonder how one wireless operator gets into communication with another. He first listens in to determine whether messages are coming through the ether within range in the wave-length he is to use. Hearing nothing, he adjusts his sending apparatus to the desired wave-length and switches this in with the signal aerial which serves both his sending and his receiving set. This at the same time disconnects his receiving set. He sends out the call letters of the station to which he wishes to send a message, following them with his own call letters, as a signature to show who is calling. After repeating these signals several times he switches out his sending set and listens in with his receiving set. If he then gets an answer from the other station he can begin sending the message. Marconi was not allowed to hold the wireless field unmolested. Many others set up wireless stations, some of them infringing upon Marconi's patents. Others have devised wireless systems along more original lines. Particularly we should mention two American experimenters, Dr. de Forest and Professor Fessenden. Both have established wireless systems with no little promise. The system of Professor Fessenden is especially unique and original and may be destined to work a revolution in the methods of wireless telegraphy. With an increase in the number of wireless stations and varieties of apparatus came a wide increase in the uses to which wireless telegraphy was applied. We have already noticed the press service from Poldhu. The British Government makes use of this same station to furnish daily news to its representatives in all parts of the world. The wireless is also used to transmit the time from the great observatories. Some of the railroads in the United States have equipped their trails as well as their stations with wireless sets. It has proved its worth in communicating between stations, taking the place in time of need of either the telegraph or the telephone. In equipping the trains with sets a difficulty was met in arranging the aerials. It is, of course, impossible to arrange the wires at any height above the cars, since they would be swept away in passing under bridges. Even with very low aerials, however, communication has been successfully maintained at a distance of over a hundred miles. The speed of the fastest train affects the sending and receiving of messages not at all. It was also found that messages passed without hindrance, even though the train was passing through a tunnel. Another interesting application of wireless telegraphy is to the needs of the fire-fighters. Fire stations in New York City have been equipped with wireless telegraph sets, and they have proved so useful in spreading alarms and transmitting news of fires that they seem destined to come into universal use. The outbreak of the world war gave a tremendous impetus to the development of wireless telegraphy. The German cable to the United States was cut in the early days of the conflict. The sending power of wireless stations had been sufficiently increased, however, so that the great German stations could communicate with those in the United States. Communication was readily maintained between the Allies by means of wireless, the great stations at Poldhu and at the Eiffel Tower in Paris being in constant communication with each other and with the stations in Italy and in Russia. Portable field sets had been used with some slight success even in the Boer War, and had definitely proved their worth in the Balkans. The outbreak of the greater war found all of the nations equipped with portable apparatus for the use of their armies. These proved of great use. The field sets of the United States Army also proved their utility in the campaign into Mexico in pursuit of Villa. By their means it was possible for General Pershing's forces to keep in constant touch with the headquarters in the United States. The wireless proved as valuable to the navies as had been anticipated. The Germans in particular made great improvements in light wireless sets designed for use on aircraft. The problem of placing an aerial on an aeroplane is difficult, but no little headway has been made in this direction. It is the American boy who has done the most interesting work with the wireless in the United States. While the commercial development has been comparatively slow, the boys have set up stations by the thousands. Most of these stations were constructed by the boys themselves, who have learned and are learning how best to apply this modern wonder to the service of man. So many amateurs set up stations that the Government found it necessary to regulate them by law. The law now requires that amateur experimenters use only short wave-lengths in their sending, which will not interfere with messages from Government or commercial stations. It also provides for the licensing of amateurs who prove competent. The stations owned and operated by boys have already proved of great use. In times of storm and flood when wire communication failed they have proved the only means of communicating with many districts. In time of war these amateur stations, scattered in all parts of the country, might prove immensely valuable. Means have now been taken to so organize the amateurs that they can communicate with one another, and by this means messages may be sent to any part of the country. One young American, John Hays Hammond, Jr., has applied the wireless in novel and interesting ways. By means of special apparatus mounted on a small boat he can by the means of a wireless station on shore start or stop the vessel, or steer it in any direction by his wireless control. He has applied the same system to the control of torpedoes. By this means a torpedo may be controlled after it has left the shore and may be directed in any direction as long as it is within sight. This invention may prove of incalculable benefit should America be attacked by a foreign power. What startling developments of wireless telegraphy lie still in the future we do not know. Marconi has predicted that wireless messages will circle the globe. "I believe," he has said, "that in the near future a wireless message will be sent from New York completely around the world without relaying, and will be received by an instrument in the same office with the transmitter, in perhaps less time than Shakespeare's forty minutes." Not long ago the United States battle-ship _Wyoming_, lying off Cape Henry on the Atlantic coast, communicated with the _San Diego_ at Guaymas, on the Pacific coast of Mexico. This distance, twenty-five hundred miles across land, shows that Marconi's prediction may be realized in the not distant future. XIX SPEAKING ACROSS THE CONTINENT A New "Hello Boy" in Boston--Why the Boy Sought the Job--The Useful Things the Boy Found to Do--Young Carty and the Multiple Switchboard--Called to New York City--He Quiets the Roaring Wires--Carty Made Engineer-in-Chief--Extending the Range of the Human Voice--New York Talks to San Francisco Over a Wire. It seemed to many that the wireless telegraph was to be the final word in the development of communication, but two striking achievements coming in 1915 proved this to be far from the case. While one group of scientists had given themselves to experimentation with the Hertzian waves which led to wireless telegraphy, other scientists and engineers were busily engaged in bringing the telephone to a perfection which would enable it to accomplish even more striking feats. These electrical pioneers did not work as individuals, but were grouped together as the engineering staff of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company. At their head was John J. Carty, and it was under his guiding genius that the great work was accomplished. John Carty is the American son of Irish parents. He was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on April 14, 1861. His father was a gun-maker and an expert mechanic of marked intelligence and ingenuity who numbered among his friends Howe, the creator of the sewing-machine. As a boy John Carty displayed the liveliest interest in things electrical. When the time came for him to go to school, physics was his favorite study. He showed himself to be possessed of a keen mind and an infinite capacity for work. To these advantages was added a good elementary education. He was graduated from Cambridge Latin School, where he prepared for Harvard University. Before he could enter the university his eyesight failed, and the doctor forbade continuance of study. Many a boy would have been discouraged by this physical handicap which denied him complete scholastic preparation. But this boy was not the kind that gives up. He had been supplementing his school work in physics with experimentations upon his own behalf. Let us let Mr. Carty tell in his own words how he next occupied himself. I had often visited the shop of Thomas Hall, at 19 Bromfield Street, and looked in the window. I went in from time to time, not to make large purchases, but mostly to make inquiries and to buy some blue vitriol, wire, or something of the kind. It was a store where apparatus was sold for experimentation in schools, and on Saturdays a number of Harvard and Institute of Technology professors could be found there. It was quite a rendezvous for the scientific men in those days, just the same as the Old Corner Bookstore at the corner of School and Washington Streets was a place where the literary men used to congregate. Don't think that I was an associate of these great scientists, but I was very much attracted to the atmosphere of that store. I wanted to get in and handle the apparatus. Finally it occurred to me that I would like to get into the business, somehow. But I did not have the courage to go in and ask them for a job. One day I was going by and saw a sign hanging out, "Boy Wanted." I was about nineteen, and really thought I was something of a scientist, not exactly a boy. I was a boy, however. I walked by on one side of the street and then on the other, looking in, and finally the idea possessed me to go in and strike for that job. So I took down the sign, which was outside the window, put it under my arm, and went in and persuaded Tom Hall that I was the boy he wanted. He said, "When can you begin?" I said, "Now." There was no talk of wages or duties. He said, "Take this package around to Earle & Prew's express and hurry back, as I have another errand for you to do." So I had to take a great, heavy box around to the express-office and get a receipt for it. I found, when Saturday night came around, that I had been engaged at the rate of fifty cents a day. I would have been glad to work for nothing. Well, I did not get near that apparatus in a hurry, not until the time came for fixing up the window. My first talk in regard to it had no reference to services in a scientific capacity on my part. I had rather hoped that the boss would come around and consult with, me as to how to adjust the apparatus. But that was not it. He said: "John, clean out that window. Everything is full of dust, and be careful and don't break anything!" So I cleaned it out. I swept out the place, cleaned about there, did errands, mixed battery solutions, and got a great deal of experience there in one way or another. I did whatever there was to do and got a good deal of fun out of it, while becoming acquainted with the state of the art of that day. I got to know intimately all the different sorts of philosophical apparatus there were, and how to mix the various battery solutions. In fact, I became really quite experienced for those times in such matters. It was not long before young Carty lost his job. Being a regular boy, he had been guilty of too much skylarking. This experience steadied him, and he forthwith sought a new job. He had met some of the employees of the telephone company and was naturally interested in their work. At that time "hello boys" held sway in the crude telephone exchanges, the "hello girl" having not yet appeared. So John Carty at the age of nineteen went to work in the Boston telephone exchange. The switchboard at which they placed him had been good enough for the other boys who had been called upon to operate it, and indeed it represented the best thought and effort of the leaders in the telephone world. But it did not satisfy Carty, who, not content with simply-operating the board, studied its construction and began planning improvements. As Mr. Carty himself puts it: The little switchboards of that day were a good deal like the automobiles of some years ago--one was likely to spend more time under the switchboard than, sitting at it! In that way I learned a great deal about the arrangement and construction of switchboards. Encountering the trouble first, I had an advantage over others in being able to suggest a remedy. So I have always thought it was a good thing to have troubles, as long as they are not too serious or too numerous. Troubles are certainly a great advantage, if we manage them correctly. Certainly Carty made these switchboard troubles the first stepping-stone in his climb to the top in the field of telephone engineering. The improvements which the youngster suggested were so valuable that they were soon being made under his direction, and ere long he installed in the Boston exchange the first multiple switchboard, the fundamental features of which are in the switchboards of to-day. In his work with the switchboards young Carty early got in touch with Charles E. Scribner, another youngster who was doing notable work in this field. The young men became fast friends and worked much together. Scribner devoted himself almost exclusively to switchboards and came to be known as the father of the modern switchboard. Boston had her peculiar problems and an "express" service was needed. How to handle this in the exchange was another problem, and this, too, Carty solved. For this purpose he designed and installed the first metallic circuit, multiple switchboard to go into service. The problems of the exchange were among the most serious of the many which troubled the early telephone companies. Of course every telephone-user desired to be able to converse with any other who had a telephone in his office or residence. The development of the switchboards had been comparatively slow in the past, and the service rendered by the boys proved far from satisfactory. The average boy proved himself too little amenable to discipline, too inclined to "sass" the telephone-users, and too careless. But the early use of "hello boys" was at least a success for the telephone in that it brought to its service John J. Carty. This boy pointed the way to the great improvements that made it possible to handle the constantly growing volume of calls expeditiously and effectively. The early telephones were operated with a single wire grounded at either end, the earth return being used to complete the circuit as with the telegraph. But while the currents used to operate the telegraph are fairly strong and so can dominate the earth currents, the tiny currents which represented the vibrations of the human voice were all too often drowned by the earth currents which strayed on to the lines. Telephone engineers were not then agreed that this caused the difficulty; but they did know there was difficulty. Many weird noises played over the lines and as often as not the spoken word was twisted into the strangest gibberish and rendered unintelligible. If the telephone was to satisfy its patrons and prove of real service to the world, the difficulty had to be overcome. Some of the more progressive engineers insisted that a double-wire system without a ground was necessary. This, of course, involved tremendous expenses in rebuilding every line and duplicating every wire. The more conservative hesitated, but Carty forged ahead. In 1880 he was engaged in operating a new line out of Boston. He was convinced that the double-wire system alone could be successful, and he arranged to operate a line on this plan. Taking two single lines, he instructed the operator at the other end to join them, forming a two-wire circuit. The results justified him. At last a line had been attained which could be depended upon to carry the conversation. No sooner was one problem solved than another presented itself. What to do with the constantly increasing number of wires was a pressing difficulty. All telephone circuits had been strung overhead, and with the demand for telephones for office and residence rapidly increasing, the streets of the great cities were becoming a perfect forest of telephone poles, with the sky obscured by a maze of wires. Poles were constantly increased in height until a line was strung along Wall Street in New York City at a height of ninety feet. From the poles the wires overflowed to the housetops, increasing the difficulty of the engineers. How to protect the wires so that they could be placed underground was the problem. We have noticed that Theodore Vail had been brought to the head of the Bell system in its infancy and had led the fight against the rival companies until it was thoroughly established. Now he was directing his genius and executive ability to so improving the telephone that it should serve every need of communication. While the engineers discussed theories Vail began actual tests. A trench five miles long was dug beside a railway track by the simple expedient of hitching a plow to a locomotive. In this trench were laid a number of wires, each with a different covering. The gutta-percha and the rubber coverings which had been used in cable construction predominated. It was found that these wires would carry the telephone currents, not as well as might be desired, but well enough to assure Vail that he was on the right track. The companies began to place their wires underground, and Vail saw to it that the experiments with coverings for telephone wires were continued. The result was the successful underground cables in use to-day. At the same time Vail and his engineers were seeking to improve the wires themselves. Iron and steel wires had been used, but they proved unsatisfactory, as they rusted and were poor conductors. Copper was an excellent conductor, but the metal in the pure state is soft and no one then knew how to make a copper wire that would sustain its own weight. But Vail kept his men at the problem and the hard-drawn copper wire was at length evolved. This proved just what was needed for the telephone circuits. The copper wire was four times as expensive as the iron, but as it was four times as good Vail adopted it. John Carty had rather more than kept pace with these improvements. He was but twenty-six years of age when Union N. Bethell, head of the New York company, picked Carty to take charge of the telephone engineering work in the metropolis. Bethell was Vail's chief executive officer, and under him Carty received an invaluable training in executive work. Carty's largest task was putting the wires underground, and here again he was a tremendous success. He found ways to make cables cheaper and better, and devised means of laying them at half the former cost. Having solved the most pressing problems in this field, his employers, who had come to recognize his marked genius, set him to work again on the switchboard. He was placed in charge of the switchboard department of the Western Electric Company, the concern which manufactures the apparatus for the telephone company. The switchboard, as we have seen, was Carty's first love, and again he pointed the way to great improvements. Most of the large switchboards of that time were installed under his direction, and they were better switchboards than had ever been known before. Up to this time it had been thought necessary to have individual batteries supplying current to each line. These were a constant source of difficulty, and Carty directed his own attention, and that of his associate engineers, to finding a satisfactory solution. He sought a method of utilizing one common battery at the central station and the way was found and the improvement accomplished. Though the telephone circuits were now protected from the earth, telephone-users, at times when the lines were busy, were still troubled with roarings and strange cross-talk. Though busy with the many engineering problems which the telephone heads had assigned to him, Carty found time for some original research. He showed that the roarings in the wires were largely caused by electro-static induction. In 1889 he read a paper before the Electric Club that startled the engineers of that day. He demonstrated that in every telephone circuit there is a particular point at which, if a telephone is inserted, no cross-talk can be heard. He had worked out the rules for determining this point. Thus he had at once discovered the trouble and prescribed the cure. Of course it could not be expected that the sage experts would all agree with young Carty right away; but they were forced to in the end, for again he was proved right. By 1901 Carty was ready with another invention which was to place the telephone in the homes of hundreds of thousands who, without it, could scarcely have afforded this modern necessity. This was the "bridging bell" which made possible the party line. By its use four telephones could be placed on a single line, each with its own signal, so that any one could be rung without ringing the others. Its introduction inaugurated a new boom in the use of the telephone. Theodore Vail had resigned from his positions with the telephone companies in 1890 with the determination to retire from business. But when the panic of 1907 came the directors of the company went to him on his Vermont farm and pleaded with him to return and again resume the leadership. Other and younger men would not do in this business crisis. They also pointed out that the nation's telephones had not yet been molded into the national system which had been his dream--a system of universal service in which any one at any point in the country might talk by telephone with any other. So Vail re-entered the telephone field and again took the presidency of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company. One of his first official acts was to appoint John J. Carty his chief engineer. Vail had selected the right man to make his dreams come true; Carty now had the executive who would make it possible for him to accomplish even larger things. He set about building up the engineering organization which was to accomplish the work, selecting the most brilliant graduates of American technical schools. He set this organization to work upon the extension and development of the long-distance telephone lines. As a "hello boy" Carty had believed in the possibility of the long-distance telephone when others had scoffed. He has told of an early experience while in the Boston exchange: One hot day an old lady toiled up the inevitable flights of stairs which led to the telephone-office of those times. Out of breath, she sat down, and when she had recovered sufficiently to speak she said she wanted to talk to Chicago. My colleagues of that time were all what the ethnologists would rank a little bit lower than the wild Indian. These youngsters set up a great laugh; and, indeed, the absurdity of the old lady's project could hardly be overstated, because at that time Salem was a long-distance line, Lowell sometimes worked, and Worcester was the limit--that is, in every sense of the word. The Lowell line was so unreliable that we had a telegraph operator there, and when the talk was not possible, he pushed the message through by Morse. It is no wonder that the absurdity of the old lady's proposal was the cause of poorly suppressed merriment. But I can remember that I explained to her that our wires had not yet been extended to Chicago, and that, after she had departed, I turned to the other operators and said that the day would come when we could talk to Chicago. My prophecy was received with what might be called--putting it mildly--vociferous discourtesy. Nevertheless, I remember very well the impression which that old lady's request made upon me; and I really did believe that, some day or other, in some way, we would be able to talk to Chicago. By 1912 it was possible to talk from New York to Denver, a distance of 2,100 miles. No European engineers had achieved any such results, and this feat brought to Carty and his wonderful staff the admiration of foreign experts. But for the American engineers this was only a starting-point. The next step was to link New York and California. This was more than a matter of setting poles and stringing wires, stupendous though this task was. The line crosses thirteen States, and is carried on 130,000 poles. Three thousand tons of wire are used in the line. The Panama Canal took nine years to complete, and cost over three hundred million dollars; but within that time the telephone company spent twice that amount in engineering construction work alone, extending the scope of the telephone. The technical problems were even more difficult. Carty and his engineers had to find a way to send something three thousand miles with the breath as its motive power. It was a problem of the conservation of the tiny electric current which carried the speech. The power could not be augmented or speech would not result at the destination. Added to the efforts of these able engineers was the work of Prof. Michael I. Pupin, of Columbia University, whose brilliant invention of the loading coil some ten years before had startled the scientific world and had increased the range of telephonic transmission through underground cables and through overhead wires far beyond what had formerly been possible. Professor Pupin applied his masterful knowledge of physics and his profound mathematical attainments so successfully to the practical problems of the transmission of telephone speech that he has been called "the telephone scientist." It is impossible to talk over long-distance lines anywhere in America without speaking through Pupin coils, which are distributed throughout the hundreds of thousands of miles of wire covering the North American continent. In the transcontinental telephone line Pupin coils play a most important part, and they are distributed at eight-mile intervals throughout its entire length from the Atlantic to the Pacific. In speaking at a dinner of eminent scientists, Mr. Carty once said that on account of his distinguished scientific attainments and wonderful telephonic inventions, Professor Pupin would rank in history alongside of Bell himself. We have seen how Alexander Graham Bell, standing in the little room in Boston, spoke through the crude telephone he had constructed the first words ever carried over a wire, and how these words were heard and understood by his associate, Thomas Watson. This was in 1876, and it was in January of 1915--less than forty years later--that these two men talked across the continent. The transcontinental line was complete. Bell in the offices of the company in New York talked freely with Watson in San Francisco, and all in the most conversational tone, without a trace of the difficulty that had attended their first conversation over the short line. Thus, within the span of a single life the telephone had been developed from a crude instrument which transmitted speech with difficulty over a wire a hundred feet long, until one could be heard perfectly, though over three thousand miles of wire intervened. The spoken word travels across the continent almost instantaneously, far faster than the speed of sound. If it were possible for one to be heard in San Francisco as he shouted from New York through the air, four hours would be required before the sound would arrive. Thus the telephone has been brought to a point of perfection where it carries sound by electricity and reproduces it again far more rapidly and efficiently than sound can be transmitted through its natural medium. XX TELEPHONING THROUGH SPACE The Search for the Wireless Telephone--Early Successes--Carty and His Assistants Seek the Wireless Telephone--The Task Before Them--De Forest's Amplifier--Experimental Success Achieved--The Test--Honolulu and Paris Hear Arlington--The Future. No sooner had Marconi placed the wireless telegraph at the service of the world than men of science of all nations began the search for the wireless telephone. But the vibrations necessary to reproduce the sound of the human voice are so infinitely more complex than those which will suffice to carry signals representing the dots and dashes of the telegraph code that the problem long defied solution. Scientists attacked the problem with vigor, and various means of wireless telephony were developed, without any being produced which were effective over sufficient ranges to make them really useful. Probably the earliest medium chosen to carry wireless speech was light rays. A microphone transmitter was arranged so that the vibrations of the voice would affect the stream of gas flowing in a sensitive burner. The flame was thus thrown into vibrations corresponding to the vibrations of sound. The rays from this flame were then directed by mirrors to a distant receiving station and there concentrated on a photo-electric selenium cell, which has the strange property of varying its resistance according to the illumination. Thus a telephone receiver arranged in series with it was made to reproduce the sounds. This strange, wireless telephone was so arranged that a search-light beam could be used for the light path, and distances up to three miles were covered. Even with this limited range the search-light telephone had certain advantages. Its message could be received only by those in the direct line of the light. Neither did it require aerial masts or wires and a trained telegrapher who could send and receive the telegraph code. It was put to some use between battle-ships and smaller craft lying within a radius of a few miles. The sensitive selenium cell proved unreliable, however, and this means of communication was destined to failure. The experimenters realized that future success lay in making the ether carry telephonic currents as it carried telegraphic currents. They succeeded in establishing communication without wires, using the same antenna as in wireless telegraphy, and the principles determined are those used in the wireless telephone of to-day. The sending apparatus was so arranged that continuous oscillations are set up in the ether, either by a high-frequency machine or from an electric arc. Where set up by spark discharges the spark frequency must be above twenty thousand per second. This unbroken wave train does not affect the telephone and is not audible in a telephone receiver inserted in the radio receiving circuit. But when a microphone transmitter is inserted in the sending circuit, instead of the make-and-break key used for telegraphy, the waves of the voice, thrown against the transmitter in speaking, break up the waves so that the telephone receiver in the receiving circuit will reproduce sound. Here was and is the wireless telephone. Marconi and many other scientists were able to operate it successfully over comparatively short distances, and were busily engaged in extending its range and improving the apparatus. One great difficulty involved was in increasing the power of the sending apparatus. Greater range has been secured in wireless telegraphy by using stronger sending currents. But the delicate microphone would not carry these stronger currents. Increased sensitiveness in the receiving apparatus was also necessary. Not content with their accomplishments in increasing the scope of the wire telephone, the engineers of the Bell organization, headed by John J. Carty, turned their attention to the wireless transmission of speech. Determined that the existing telephone system should be extended and supplemented in every useful way, they attacked the problem with vigor. It was a problem that had long baffled the keenest of European scientists, including Marconi himself, but that did not deter Carty and his associates. They were determined that the glory of spanning the Atlantic by wireless telephone should come to America and American engineers. They wanted history to record the wireless telephone as an American achievement along with the telegraph and the telephone. The methods used in achieving the wireless telephone were widely different from those which brought forth the telegraph and the telephone. Times had changed. Men had found that it was more effective to work together through organizations than to struggle along as individuals. The very physical scope of the undertakings made the old methods impracticable. One cannot perfect a transcontinental telephone line nor a transatlantic wireless telephone in a garret. And with a powerful organization behind them it was not necessary for Carty and his associates to starve and skimp through interminable years, handicapped by the inadequate equipment, while they slowly achieved results. This great organization, working with modern methods, produced the most wonderful results with startling rapidity. Important work had already been done by Marconi, Fessenden, De Forest, and others. But their results were still incomplete; they could not talk for any considerable distance. Carty organized his staff with care, Bancroft Gerhardi, Doctor Jewett, H.D. Arnold, and Colpitts being prominent among the group of brilliant American scientists who joined with Carty in his great undertaking. While much had been accomplished, much still remained to be done, and the various contributions had to be co-ordinated into a unified, workable whole. In large part it was Carty's task to direct the work of this staff and to see that all moved smoothly and in the right direction. Just as the telephone was more complex than the telegraph, and the wireless telegraph than the telephone, so the apparatus used in wireless telephony is even more complex and technical. Working with the intricate mechanisms and delicate apparatus, one part after another was improved and adapted to the task at hand. To the devices of Carty and his associates was added the extremely delicate detector that was needed. This was the invention of Dr. Lee de Forest, an American inventor and a graduate of the Sheffield Technical School of Yale University. De Forest's contribution was a lamp instrument, a three-step audion amplifier. This is to the wireless telephone what the coherer is to the wireless telegraph. It is so delicate that the faintest currents coming through the ether will stimulate it and serve to set in motion local sources of electrical energy so that the waves received are magnified to a point where they will produce sound. By the spring of 1915, but a few months after the transcontinental telephone line had been put in operation, Carty had his wireless telephone apparatus ready for extended tests. A small experimental tower was set up at Montauk Point, Long Island, and another was borrowed at Wilmington, Delaware. The tests were successful, and the experimenters found that they could talk freely with each other. Soon they talked over a thousand miles, from the tower at Montauk Point to another at St. Simon's Island, Georgia. This in itself was a great achievement, but the world was not told of it. "Do it first and then talk about it" is the maxim with Theodore Vail and his telephone men. This was but a beginning, and Carty had far more wonderful things in mind. It was on the 29th of September, 1915, that Carty conducted the demonstrations which thrilled the world and showed that wireless telephony was an accomplished fact. Sitting in his office in New York, President Theodore Vail spoke into his desk telephone of the familiar type. The wires carried his words to the towers of the Navy wireless station at Arlington, Virginia, where they were delivered to the sending apparatus of the wireless telephone. Leaping into space, they traveled in every direction through the ether. The antenna of the wireless station at Mare Island, California, caught part of the waves and they were amplified so that John Carty, sitting with his ear to the receiver, could hear the voice of his chief. Carty and his associates had not only developed a system which made it possible to talk across the continent without wires, but they had made it possible to combine wire and wireless telegraphy. He and Vail talked with each other freely and easily, while the naval officers who verified the tests marveled. But even more wonderful things were to come. Early in the morning of the next day other messages were sent from the Arlington tower, and these messages were heard by Lloyd Espenschied, one of Carty's engineers, who was stationed at the wireless station at Pearl Harbor, near Honolulu, Hawaii. The distance covered was nearly five thousand miles, and half of it was across land, which is the more remarkable as the wireless does not operate so readily over land as over water. The distance covered in this test was greater than the distance from Washington to London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, or Petrograd. The successful completion of this test meant that the capitals of the great nations of the world might communicate, might talk with one another, by wireless telephone. Only a receiving set had been installed at Hawaii, so that it was not possible for Espenschied to reply to the message from Arlington, and it was not until his message came by cable that those at Arlington knew that the words they had spoken had traveled five thousand miles. Other receiving sets had been located at San Diego and at Darien on the Isthmus of Panama, and at these points also the words were distinctly heard. By the latter part of October all was in readiness for a transatlantic test, and on the 20th of October American engineers, with American apparatus installed at the great French station at the Eiffel Tower, Paris, heard the words spoken at Arlington, Virginia. Carty and his engineers had bridged the Atlantic for the spoken word. Because of war-time conditions it was not possible to secure the use of the French station for an extended test, but the fact was established that once the apparatus is in place telephonic communication between Europe and America may he carried on regularly. The apparatus used as developed by the engineers of the Bell system was in a measure an outgrowth of their work with the long-distance telephone. Wireless telephony, despite the wonders it has already accomplished, is still in its infancy. With more perfect apparatus and the knowledge that comes with experience we may expect that speech will girdle the earth. It is natural that one should wonder whether the wireless telephone is destined to displace our present apparatus. This does not seem at all probable. In the first place, wireless telephony is now, and probably always will be, very expensive. Where the wire will do it is the more economical. There are many limitations to the use of the other for talking purposes, and it cannot be drawn upon too strongly by the man of science. It will accomplish miracles, but must not be overtaxed. Millions of messages going in all directions, crossing and recrossing one another, as is done every day by wire, are probably an impossibility by wireless telephony. Weird and little-understood conditions of the ether, static electricity, radio disturbances, make wireless work uncertain, and such a thing as twenty-four-hour service, seven days in the week, can probably never be guaranteed. In radio communication all must use a common medium, and as its use increases, so also do the difficulties. The privacy of the wire is also lacking with the wireless telephone. But because a way was found to couple the wireless telephone with the wire telephone, the new wonder has great possibilities as a supplement to our existing system. Before so very long it may be possible for an American business man sitting in his office to call up and converse with a friend on a liner crossing the Atlantic. The advantages of speaking between ship and ship as an improvement over wireless telegraphy in time of need are obvious. A demonstration of the part this great national telephone system would play in the country's defense in case of attack was held in May of 1916. The Navy Department at Washington was placed in communication with every navy-yard and post in the United States, so that the executive officers could instantly talk with those in charge of the posts throughout the country. The wireless telephone was used in addition to the long distance, and Secretary of the Navy Daniels, sitting at his desk at Washington, talked with Captain Chandler, who was at his station on the bridge of the U.S.S. _New Hampshire_ at Hampton Roads. Whatever the future limitations of wireless telephony, there is no doubt as to the place it will take among the scientific accomplishments of the age. Merely as a scientific discovery or invention, it ranks among the wonders of civilization. Much as the tremendous leap of human voice across the line from New York to San Francisco appealed to the mind, there is something infinitely more fascinating in this new triumph of the engineer. The human mind can grasp the idea of the spoken word being carried along wires, though that is difficult enough, but when we try to understand its flight through space we are faced with something beyond the comprehension of the layman and almost past belief. We have seen how communication has developed, very slowly at first, and then, as electricity was discovered, with great rapidity until man may converse with man at a distance of five thousand miles. What the future will bring forth we do not know. The ether may be made to accomplish even more wonderful things as a bearer of intelligence. Though we cannot now see how it would be possible, the day may come when every automobile and aeroplane will be equipped with its wireless telephone, and the motorist and aviator, wherever they go, may talk with anyone anywhere. The transmission of power by wireless is confidently predicted. Pictures have been transmitted by telegraph. It may be possible to transmit them by wireless. Then some one may find out how to transmit moving pictures through the ether. Then one might sit and see before him on a screen a representation of what was then happening thousands of miles away, and, listening through a telephone, hear all the sounds at the same place. Wonders that we cannot even now imagine may lie before us. APPENDIX A NEW DEVELOPMENTS OF THE TELEGRAPH _By F.W. Lienan, Superintendent Tariff Bureau, Western Union Telegraph Company_ The invention of Samuel F.B. Morse is unique in this, that the methods and instruments of telegraph operation as he evolved them from his first experimental apparatus were so simple, and yet so completely met the requirements, that they have continued in use to the present day in practically their original form. But this does not mean that there has not been the same constant striving for betterment in this as in every other art. Many minds have, since the birth of the telegraph, occupied themselves with the problem of devising improved means of telegraphic transmission. The results have varied according to the point of view from which the subject was approached, but all, directly or indirectly, sought the same goal (the obvious one, since speed is the essence of telegraphy), to find the best means of sending more messages over the wire in a given time. It will readily suggest itself that the solution of this problem lies either in an arrangement enabling the wire to carry more than one message at once, or in some apparatus capable of transmitting messages over the wire more rapidly than can be done by hand, or in a combination of both these principles. Duplex and quadruples operations are perhaps the most generally known methods by which increased utilization of the capacity of the line has been achieved. Duplex operation permits of the sending of two messages over one wire in opposite directions at the same time; and quadruples, the simultaneous transmission of four messages, two going in each direction. Truly a remarkable accomplishment; but, like many other things that have found their permanent place in daily use, become so familiar that we no longer pause to marvel at it. These expedients constitute a direct and very effective attack on the problem how to get more work out of the wire with the existing means of operation, and on account of their fundamental character and the important place which by reason thereof they have taken in the telegraphic art, are entitled to first mention. The problem of increasing the rapidity of transmission has been met by various automatic systems of telegraphy, so called because they embody the idea of mechanical transmission with resulting gain in speed and other advantages. The number of these which have from time to time been devised is considerable. Not all have proven to be practicable, but those which have failed to prove in under actual operating conditions none the less display evidence of ingenuity which may well excite our admiration. To mention one or two which may be interesting on account of the oddity of their method--there was, for instance, an early device, similar in principle to the calling apparatus of the automatic telephone, which involved the turning of a movable disk so that a projection on its circumference pointed successively to the letters to be transmitted. Experiments were made with ordinary metal type set up in a composing-stick, a series of brushes passing over the type faces and producing similar characters on a tape at the other end of the line. In another more recent ingenious device a pivoted mirror at the receiving end was so manipulated by the electrical impulses that a ray of light reflected from the surface of the mirror actually wrote the message upon sensitized paper, like a pencil, in a fair handwriting. In another the receiving apparatus printed vertical, horizontal, and slanting lines in such manner that they combined to make letters, rather angular, it is true, but legible. These and other kindred devices are interesting as efforts to accomplish the direct production of legible messages. In experimental tests they performed their function successfully, and in some cases with considerable speed, but some of them required more than one line wire, some were too sensitive to disturbance by inductive currents and some developed other weaknesses which have prevented their incorporation in the actual operating machinery of to-day. In the general development of the so-called automatic telegraph devices which have been or now are in practical operation, two lines have been pursued. One involves direct keyboard transmission; the other, the use at the sending end of a perforated tape capable of being run through a transmitting machine at high speed. One type of the former is the so-called step-by-step process, in which a revolving body in the transmitting apparatus, as, for instance, a cylinder provided with pegs placed at intervals around its circumference in spiral fashion, is arrested by the depression of the keys of the keyboard in such a way that a type wheel in the receiving apparatus at the distant end of the line prints the corresponding letter. This method was employed in the House and Phelps printing telegraphs operated by the Western Union Telegraph Company in its earlier days, and is to-day used in the operation of the familiar ticker. In another type of direct keyboard operation the manipulation of the keys transmits the impulses directly to the line and the receiving apparatus translates them by electrically controlled mechanical devices into printed characters in message form. The systems best adapted to rapid telegraph work are predicated on the use of a perforated tape on which, by means of a suitable perforating apparatus, little round holes are produced in various groupings, each group, when the tape is passed through the transmitter, causing a certain combination of electrical impulses to pass over the wire. The transmitter as a rule consists of a mechanically or motor driven mechanism which causes the telegraph impulses to be transmitted to the line, and the combination and character of the impulses are determined by the tape perforations. The rapidity with which the tape may be driven through the transmitter makes very high speed operation possible. Of course it is necessary that there should be at the other end of the wire apparatus capable of receiving and recording the signals as speedily as they are sent. As early as 1848 Alexander Bain perfected a system involving the use of the perforated transmitting tape; at the receiving station the messages were recorded in dots and dashes upon a chemically prepared strip of paper by means of iron pens, the metal of which was, through the combined action of the electrical current and the chemical preparation, decomposed, producing black marks in the form of dots and dashes upon the paper. The Bain apparatus was in actual operation in the younger days of the telegraph. Various systems, based on similar principles, involving tape transmission and the production of dots and dashes on a receiving tape, have from time to time been devised, but have generally not succeeded in establishing any permanent usefulness in competition with more effective instrumentalities which have been perfected. The hardiest survivor of them is the Wheatstone apparatus, which has been in successful operation for years. Originally the perforating--or, to use the commonly current term, the punching--of the Wheatstone sending tape was accomplished by a mechanism equipped with three keys--one for the dot, one for the dash, and one for the space. The keys were struck with rubber-tipped mallets held in the hands of the operator and brought down with considerable force. Later this rather primitive perforator was supplanted by one equipped with a full keyboard on the order of a typewriter keyboard. At the receiving end of the line the messages are produced on a tape in dots and dashes of the Morse alphabet, and hence a further process of translation is necessary. This system has proven very useful, particularly in times of wire trouble and scarcity of facilities, when it is essential to move as many messages as possible over the available lines. The schemes devised for combining automatic transmission by the perforated-tape method with direct production of the message at its destination in ordinary letters and figures, eliminating the intervening step of translation from Morse characters, have been many. Their individual enumeration is beyond the scope of the present discussion, and would in any event involve a wearisome exposition of their distinguishing technical features. Several of these systems are at present in practical and very effective operation. One of the forerunners of the printing telegraph systems now in use was the Buckingham system, for many years employed by the Western Union Telegraph Company, but now for some time obsolete. The receiving mechanism of this system printed the messages on telegraph blanks placed upon a cylinder of just the right circumference to accommodate two telegraph blanks. The blanks were arranged in pairs, rolled into the form of a tube and placed around the cylinder. When two messages had been written a new pair of blanks had to be substituted. This was a rather awkward arrangement, but at a time when more highly developed apparatus had not been perfected it served its purpose to good advantage. The printing telegraphs of to-day produce their messages by the direct operation of typewriting machines or mechanisms operating substantially in the same manner as the ordinary typewriting machine. The methods by which the electrical impulses coming over the line are transformed into mechanical operation of the typewriter keys, or what corresponds to the typewriter keys, vary. It would be difficult to describe how this function is performed without entering upon much detail of a highly technical character. Suffice it to say that means have been devised by which each combination of electrical impulses coming over the line wire causes a channel to be opened for the motor operation of the typewriting key-bar operating the corresponding letter upon the typewriter apparatus. These machines write the messages with proper arrangement of the date line, address, text, and signature, operating not only the type, but also the carriage shift and the line spacing as required. A further step in advance has been made by feeding the blanks into the receiving typewriter from a continuous roll, an attendant tearing the messages off as they are completed. The entire operation is automatic from beginning to end and capable of considerable speed. There remained the problem of devising some means by which a number of automatic units could be operated over the same line at the same time. This is not by any means a new proposition. Here again various solutions have been offered by the scientists both of Europe and of this country, and different systems designed to accomplish the desired object have been placed in operation. One of the most recent, and we believe the most efficient so far developed, is the so-called multiplex printer system, devised by the engineers of the Western Union Telegraph Company and now being extensively used by that company. Perhaps the best picture of what is accomplished by this system can be given by an illustration. Let us assume a single wire between New York and Chicago. At the New York end there are connected with this wire four combined perforators and transmitters, and four receiving machines operating on the typewriter principle. At the Chicago end the wire is connected with a like number of sending and receiving machines. All these machines are in simultaneous operation; that is to say, four messages are being sent from New York to Chicago, and four messages are being sent from Chicago to New York, all at the same time and over a single wire, and the entire process is automatic. The method by which eight messages can be sent over a single wire at the same time without interfering with one another cannot readily be described in simple terms. It may give some comprehension of the underlying principle to say that the heart of the mechanism is in two disks at each end of the line, which are divided into groups of segments insulated from each other, each group being connected to one of the sending or receiving machines, respectively. A rotating contact brush connected to the line wire passes over the disk, so that, as it comes into contact with each segment, the line wire is connected in turn with the channel leading to the corresponding operating unit. The brushes revolve in absolute unison of time and position. To use the same illustration as before, the brush on the Chicago disk and the brush on the New York disk not only move at exactly the same speed, but at any given moment the two brushes are in exactly the same position with regard to the respective group of segments of both disks. If we now conceive of these brushes passing over the successive segments of the disks at a very great rate of speed, it may be understood that the effect is that the electrical impulses are distributed, each receiving machine receiving only those produced by the corresponding sending machine at the other end. In other words, each of the sets of receiving and sending apparatus really gets the use of the line for a fraction of the time during each revolution of the brushes of the distributer or disk mechanism. The multiplex automatic circuits are being extended all over the country and are proving extremely valuable in handling the constantly growing volume of telegraph traffic. What has thus been achieved in developing the technical side of telegraph operation must be attributed in part to that impulse toward improvement which is constantly at work everywhere and is the most potent factor in the progress of all industries, but in large measure it is the reflex of the growing--and recently very rapidly growing--demands which are made upon the telegraph service. Emphasis is placed on the larger ratio of growth in this demand in recent years because it is peculiarly symptomatic of a noticeably wider realization of the advantages which the telegraph offers as an effective medium for business and social correspondence than has heretofore been in evidence. It means that we have graduated from that state of mind which saw in the telegraph something to be resorted to only under the stress of emergency, which caused many good people to associate a telegram with trouble and bad news and sudden calamity. There are still some dear old ladies who, on receipt of a telegram, make a rapid mental survey of the entire roster of their near and distant relatives and wonder whose death or illness the message may announce before they open the fateful envelope, only to find that up-to-date Cousin Mary, who has learned that the telegraph is as readily used as the mail and many times more rapid and efficient, wants to know whether they can come out for the week-end. When Cousin Mary of to-day wants to know, she wants to know right away--not only that she has her arrangements to make, but also because she just does not propose to wait a day or two to get a simple answer to a simple question. Therein she embodies the spirit of the times. Our ancestors were content to jog along for days in a stuffy stage-coach; we complain that the train which accomplishes the same distance in a few hours is too slow. We act more quickly; we think more quickly. We have to if we want to keep within earshot of the band. This speeding up makes itself quite obviously most apparent in our business processes. No body of business men need be told how much keener competition is becoming daily, how much narrower the margin by which success must be won. Familiar phrases, these. But behind them lies a wealth of tragedy. How many have fallen by the way? It is estimated that something less than ten per cent. of those who engage in business on their own account succeed. How terrible the percentage of those who fail! The race has become too swift for them. Driven by the lash of competition, business must perforce move faster and faster. Time is becoming ever more precious. Negotiations must be rapidly conducted, decisions arrived at quickly, transactions closed on the moment. What wonder that all this makes for a vastly increased use of the quickest method of communication? That is but one of the conditions which accounts for the growing use of the telegraph. Another is to be found in the recognition of the convenience of the night letter and day letter. This has brought about a considerable increase in the volume of family and social correspondence by telegraph, which will grow to very much greater proportions as experience demonstrates its value. In business life the night letter and day letter have likewise established a distinct place for themselves. Here also the present development of this traffic can be regarded as only rudimentary in comparison with the possibilities of its future development, indications of which are already apparent. It has been discovered that the telegram, on account of its peculiar attention-compelling quality, is an effective medium not only for the individual appeal, but for placing business propositions before a number of people at once, the night letters and day letters being particularly adapted to this purpose by reason of the greater scope of expression which they offer. Again, business men are developing the habit of using the telegram in keeping in touch with their field forces and their salesmen and encouraging their activities, in cultivating closer contact with their customers, in placing their orders, in replenishing their stocks, and in any number of other ways calculated to further the profitable conduct of their enterprises. All this means that the telegraph is increasingly being utilized as a means of correspondence of every conceivable sort. It means also that with the growing appreciation of its adaptability to the every-day needs of social and business communication a very much larger public demand upon it must be anticipated, and it is to meet this demand with prompt and satisfactory service that the telegraph company has been bending its efforts to the perfection of a highly developed organization and of operating appliances of the most modern and efficient type. APPENDIX B Through the courtesy of J.J. Carty, Esq., Chief Engineer of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company, there follows the clean-cut survey of the evolution of the telephone presented in his address before the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia, May 17, 1916, when he received the gold medal of the Institute. More than any other, the telephone art is a product of American institutions and reflects the genius of our people. The story of its wonderful development is a story of our own country. It is a story exclusively of American enterprise and American progress, for, although the most powerful governments of Europe have devoted their energies to the development and operation of telephone systems, great contributions to the art have not been made by any of them. With very few exceptions, the best that is used in telephony everywhere in the world to-day has been contributed by workers here in America. It is of peculiar interest to recall the fact that the first words ever transmitted by the electric telephone were spoken in a building at Boston, not far from where Benjamin Franklin first saw the light. The telephone, as well as Franklin, was born at Boston, and, like Franklin, its first journey into the world brought it to Philadelphia, where it was exhibited by its inventor, Alexander Graham Bell, at the Centennial Exhibition in 1876, held here to commemorate the first hundred years of our existence as a free and independent nation. It was a fitting contribution to American progress, representing the highest product of American inventive genius, and a worthy continuance of the labors of Franklin, one of the founders of the science of electricity as well as of the Republic. Nothing could appeal more to the genius of Franklin than the telephone, for not only have his countrymen built upon it an electrical system of communication of transcendent magnitude and usefulness, but they have made it into a powerful agency for the advancement of civilization, eliminating barriers to speech, binding together our people into one nation, and now reaching out to the uttermost limits of the earth, with the grand aim of some day bringing together the people of all the nations of the earth into one common brotherhood. On the tenth day of March, 1876, the telephone art was born, when, over a wire extending between two rooms on the top floor of a building in Boston, Alexander Graham Bell spoke to his associate, Thomas A. Watson, saying: "Mr. Watson, please come here. I want you." These words, then heard by Mr. Watson in the instrument at his ear, constitute the first sentence ever received by the electric telephone. The instrument into which Doctor Bell spoke was a crude apparatus, and the current which it generated was so feeble that, although the line was about a hundred feet in length, the voice heard in the receiver was so faint as to be audible only to such a trained and sensitive ear as that of the young Mr. Watson, and then only when all surrounding noises were excluded. Following the instructions given by Doctor Bell, Mr. Watson with his own hands had constructed the first telephone instruments and ran the first telephone wire. At that time all the knowledge of the telephone art was possessed exclusively by those two men. There was no experience to guide and no tradition to follow. The founders of the telephone, with remarkable foresight, recognized that success depended upon the highest scientific knowledge and technical skill, and at once organized an experimental and research department. They also sought the aid of university professors eminent for their scientific attainments, although at that time there was no university giving the degree of Electrical Engineer or teaching electrical engineering. From this small beginning there has been developed the present engineering, experimental and research department which is under my charge. From only two men in 1876 this staff has, in 1915, grown to more than six hundred engineers and scientists, including former professors, post-graduate students, and scientific investigators, graduates of nearly a hundred American colleges and universities, thus emphasizing in a special way the American character of the art. The above number includes only those devoted to experimental and research work and engineering development and standardization, and does not include the very much larger body of engineers engaged in manufacturing and in practical field work throughout the United States. Not even the largest and most powerful government telephone and telegraph administration of Europe has a staff to be compared with this. It is in our great universities that anything like it is to be found, but even here we find that it exceeds in number the entire teaching staff of even our largest technical institutions. A good idea may spring up in the mind of man anywhere, but as applied to such a complex entity as a telephone system, the countless parts of which cover a continent, no individual unaided can bring the idea to a successful conclusion. A comprehensive and effective engineering and scientific and development organization such as this is necessary, and years of expensive work are required before the idea can be rendered useful to the public. But, vital as they are to its success, the, telephone art requires more than engineers and scientists. So we find that in the building and operation and maintenance of that vast continental telephone system which bears the name of Bell, in honor of the great inventor, there are at work each day more than 170,000 employees, of which nearly 20,000 are engaged in the manufacture of telephones, switchboards, cables, and all of the thousands and tens of thousands of parts required for the operation of the telephone system of America. The remaining 150,000 are distributed throughout all of the States of the Union. About 80,000 of these are women, largely telephone operators; 50,000 are linemen, installers, cable splicers, and the like, engaged in the building and maintaining of the continental plant. There are thousands of other employees in the accounting, legal, commercial and other departments. There are 2,100 engineers located in different parts of the country. The majority of these engineers have received technical training in American technical schools, colleges, and universities. This number does not include by any means all of those in the other departments who have received technical or college training. In view of the technical and scientific nature of the telephone art, an unusually high-grade personnel is required in all departments, and the amount of unskilled labor employed is relatively very small. No other art calls forth in a higher degree those qualities of initiative, judgment, skill, enterprise, and high character which have in all times distinguished the great achievements of America. In 1876 the telephone plant of the whole world could be carried away in the arms of one man. It consisted of two crude telephones like the one now before you, connected together by a wire of about one hundred feet in length. A piece cut from this wire by Mr. Watson himself is here in this little glass case. At this time there was no practical telephone transmitter, no hard-drawn copper wire, no transposed and balanced metallic circuits, no multiple telephone switchboard, or telephone switchboard of any kind, no telephone cable that would work satisfactorily; in fact, there were none of the multitude of parts which now constitute the telephone system. The first practical telephone line was a copy of the best telegraph line of the day. A line wire was strung on the poles and housetops, using the ground for the return circuit. Electrical disturbances, coming from no one knows where, were picked up by this line. Frequently the disturbances were so loud in the telephone as to destroy conversation. When a second telephone line was strung alongside the first, even though perfectly insulated, another surprise awaited the telephone pioneers. Conversation carried on over one of these wires could plainly be heard on the other. Another strange thing was discovered. Iron wire was not so good a conductor for the telephone current as it was for the telegraph current. The talking distance, therefore, was limited by the imperfect carrying power of the conductor and by the confusing effect of all sorts of disturbing currents from the atmosphere and from neighboring telephone and telegraph wires. These and a multitude of other difficulties, constituting problems of the most intricate nature, impeded the progress of the telephone art, but American engineers, by persistent study, incessant experimentation, and the expenditure of immense sums of money, have overcome these difficulties. They have created a new art, inventing, developing, and perfecting, making improvements great and small in telephone, transmitter, line, cable, switchboard, and every other piece of apparatus and plant required for the transmission of speech. As the result of nearly forty years of this unceasing, organized effort, on the 25th of January, 1915, there was dedicated to the service of the American public a transcontinental telephone line, 3,600 miles long, joining the Atlantic and the Pacific, and carrying the human voice instantly and distinctly between San Francisco and New York and Philadelphia and Boston. On that day over this line Doctor Bell again talked to Mr. Watson, who was now 3,400 miles away. It was a day of romantic triumph for these two men and for their associates and their thousands of successors who have built up the great American telephone art. The 11th of February following was another day of triumph for the telephone art as a product of American institutions, for, in the presence of dignitaries of the city and State here at Philadelphia and at San Francisco, the sound of the Liberty Bell, which had not been heard since it tolled for the death of Chief-Justice Marshall, was transmitted by telephone over the transcontinental line to San Francisco, where it was plainly heard by all those there assembled. Immediately after this the stirring tones of the "Star-spangled Banner" played on the bugle at San Francisco were sent like lightning back across the continent to salute the old bell in Philadelphia. It had often been pointed out that the words of the tenth verse of the twenty-fifth chapter of Leviticus, added when the bell was recast in 1753, were peculiarly applicable to the part played by the old bell in 1776. But the words were still more prophetic. The old bell had been silent for nearly eighty years, and it was thought forever, but by the use of the telephone a gentle tap, which could be heard through the air only a few feet away, was enough to transmit the tones of the historic relic all the way across the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Thus, by the aid of the telephone art, the Liberty Bell was enabled literally to fulfil its destiny and "Proclaim liberty throughout all the land, unto all the inhabitants thereof." The two telephone instruments of 1876 had become many millions by 1916, and the first telephone line, a hundred feet long, had grown to one of more than three thousand miles in length. This line is but part of the American telephone system of twenty-one million miles of wire, connecting more than nine million telephone stations located everywhere throughout the United States, and giving telephone service to one hundred million people. Universal telephone service throughout the length and breadth of our land, that grand objective of Theodore N. Vail, has been attained. While Alexander Graham Bell was the first to transmit the tones of the human voice over a wire by electricity, he was also the first to transmit the tones of the human voice by the wireless telephone, for in 1880 he spoke along a beam of light to a point a considerable distance away. While the method then used is different from that now in vogue, the medium employed for the transmission is the same--the ether, that mysterious, invisible, imponderable wave-conductor which permeates all creation. While many great advances in the wireless art were made by Marconi and many other scientists in America and elsewhere, it remained for that distinguished group of American scientists and engineers working under my charge to be the first to transmit the tones of the human voice in the form of intelligible speech across the Atlantic Ocean. This great event and those immediately preceding it are so fresh in the public mind that I will make but a brief reference to them here. On April 4, 1915, we were successful in transmitting speech without the use of wires from our radio station at Montauk Point on Long Island to Wilmington, Delaware. On May 18th we talked by radio telephone from our station on Long Island to St. Simon Island in the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of Georgia. On the 27th of August, with our apparatus installed by permission of the Navy Department at the Arlington, Virginia, radio station, speech was successfully transmitted from that station to the Navy wireless station equipped with our receiving apparatus at the Isthmus of Panama. On September 29th, speech was successfully transmitted by wire from New York City to the radio station at Arlington, Virginia, and thence by wireless telephone across the continent to the radio station at Mare Island Navy-yard, California, where I heard and understood the words of Mr. Theodore N. Vail speaking to me from the telephone on his desk at New York. On the next morning at about one o'clock, Washington time, we established wireless telephone communication between Arlington, Virginia, and Pearl Harbor in the Hawaiian Islands, where an engineer of our staff, together with United States naval officers, distinctly heard words spoken into the telephone at Arlington, Virginia. On October 22d, from the Arlington tower in Virginia, we successfully transmitted speech across the Atlantic Ocean to the Eiffel Tower at Paris, where two of our engineers, in company with French military officers, heard and understood the words spoken at Arlington. On the same day when speech was being transmitted by the apparatus at Arlington to our engineers and to the French military officers at the Eiffel Tower in Paris, our telephone engineer at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, together with an officer of the United States Navy, heard the words spoken from Arlington to Paris and recognized the voice of the speaker. As a result of exhaustive researches, too extensive to describe here, it has been ascertained that the function of the wireless telephone is not to do away with the use of wires, but rather to be employed in situations where wires are not available or practicable, such as between ship and ship, and ship and shore, and across large bodies of water. The ether is a universal conductor for wireless telephone and telegraph impulses and must be used in common by all who wish to employ those agencies of communication. In the case of the wireless telegraph the number of messages which may be sent simultaneously is much restricted. In the case of the wireless telephone, owing to the thousands of separate wave-lengths required for the transmission of speech, the number of telephone conversations which may be carried on at the same time is still further restricted and is so small that all who can employ wires will find it necessary to do so, leaving the ether available for those who have no other means of communication. This quality of the ether which thus restricts its use is really a characteristic of the greatest value to mankind, for it forms a universal party line, so to speak, connecting together all creation, so that anybody anywhere, who connects with it in the proper manner, may be heard by every one else so connected. Thus, a sinking ship or a human being anywhere can send forth a cry for help which may be heard and answered. No one can tell how far away are the limits of the telephone art, I am certain that they are not to be found here upon the earth, for I firmly believe in the fulfilment of that prophetic aspiration expressed by Theodore N. Vail at a great gathering in Washington, that some day we will build up a world telephone system, making necessary to all peoples the use of a common language or a common understanding of languages which will join all of the people of the earth into one brotherhood. I believe that the time will come when the historic bell which now rests in Independence Hall will again be sounded, and that by means of the telephone art, which to-day has received such distinguished recognition at your hands, it will proclaim liberty once more, but this time throughout the whole world unto all the inhabitants thereof. And, when this world is ready for the message, I believe the telephone art will provide the means for transmitting to all mankind a great voice saying, "Peace on earth, good will toward men." INDEX A Ampere's telegraph, 42. Anglo-American Telegraph Co., 134. Ardois signal system, 30. Atlantic cable projected, 109; attempted, 117, 121, 123, 133; completed, 124, 136. Audion amplifier, 256. Automatic telegraphy, 53, 105, 266. B Baltimore-Washington Telegraph Line, 86. Bell, Alexander Graham, parentage, 140; youth, 141; teaches elocution, 146; experiments with speech, 151, 161; meets Henry, 158; invents telephone, 162; at Centennial Exposition, 165; demonstrates telephone, 170; Bell Telephone Association, 178; Bell-Western Union Settlement; Bell and wireless telegraphy, 189; Transcontinental telephone, 248. Bethell, Union N., 241. Blake, Clarence J., 154. Blake, Francis, invents telephone transmitter, 182. Branly coherer, 204. Brett, J.W., 112. Bright, Charles Tiltson, 112, 120, 125, 128. C Cable laid across Channel, 108. Carty, J.J., youth, 232; enters telephone field, 234; Carty and the switchboard, 235, 242; uses metallic circuit, 238; in New York City, 241; invents bridging bell, 243; chief engineer, 244; extends long-distance telephone, 246; seeks wireless telephone, 253; talks across continent by wireless, 257. Clepsydra, 18. Code flags at sea, 24. Coherer, 203. Colomb's flashing lights, 25. Congress votes funds for telegraph, 84. Cooke, William P., 49, 52. Cornell, Ezra, 86, 93, 107. D Davy's needle telegraph, 44. De Forest, Dr. Lee, 225, 256. Dolbear and telephone, 185; wireless telegraphy, 194. Drawbaugh case, 186. Duplex telegraphy, 104, 265. Dyar, Harrison Gray, 41. E Edison, and the telegraph, 104; telephone transmitter 180; wireless telegraphy, 195. Ellsworth, Annie, 85. F Field, Cyrus W., plans Transatlantic cable, 110; honors, 125, 136; develops cable, 130, 134. G Gale, Professor, 67, 86. Gauss and Weber's telegraph, 43. Gisborne, F.N., 109. Gray, Elisha, 157, 184. _Great Eastern_, 132, 135, 139. Guns as marine signals, 23. H Hammond, John Hays, 229. Heaviside, A.W., 196. Heliograph, 29. Henry, Joseph, 65, 67, 158, 169. Hertz and the Hertzian waves, 197. Hubbard, Gardiner G., 149, 159, 170, 178. Hubbard, Mabel, 148, 166. I Indian smoke signals, 20. J Jackson, Dr. Charles T., 64, 79. K Kelvin, Lord (See Thomson), 138. "Kwaker" captured, 50. L Long-distance telephone, 245. M Magnetic Telegraph Co., 93. Marconi, boyhood, 199; accomplished wireless telegraphy, 202; demonstration in England, 209; Transatlantic telegraphy, 217; Marconi Telegraph Company, 220. Marine signals on Argonautic expedition, 15. Mirror galvanometer, 127. Mirrors of Pharaoh, 17. Morse at University of New York, 66. Morse, code in signals, 27; parentage, 56; at Yale, 57; art student, 59; artist, 62; conceives the telegraph, 63; exhibits telegraph, 75; offers telegraph to Congress, 76, 91; patents telegraph, 82; submarine cable, 83, 107; erects first line, 86; dies, 104. Multiplex printer telegraph, 274. Mundy, Arthur J., 31. O O'Reilly, Henry, 94. P Preece, W.H., 196, 209. Printing telegraph, 271. Pupin, Michael I., 247. Q Quadruplex telegraphy, 104, 265. R Reis's musical telegraph, 157. S Sanders, Thomas, 148, 159, 178. Scribner, Charles E., 236. Searchlight telephone, 251. Semaphore signals, 27. Shouting sentinels, 16. Sibley, Hiram, 96, 99. Signal columns, 19. Siphon recorder, 137. Smith, Francis O.J., 76. Stentorophonic tube, 18. Submarine signals, 31. T Telegraph, first suggestion, 39; patented, 82; development, 264. Telephone invented and patented, 162; at Centennial, 165; exchange, 177. Thomson, youth, 144; cable adviser, 121; invents mirror galvanometer, 126; knighted, 136; invents siphon recorder, 137; connection with telephone, 169. Transatlantic cable (See Atlantic cable). Transatlantic wireless telegraphy, 216. Transatlantic wireless telephone, 259. Transcontinental telegraph, 96. Transcontinental telephone, 246. Transcontinental wireless telephone, 257. Trowbridge, John, 190. Troy, signaling fall of, 14. Tuning the wireless telegraph, 222. V Vail, Alfred, arranges Morse code, joins Morse, 70; makes telephone apparatus, 72; operates first line, 90; improves telegraph, 100. Vail, Theodore, joins telephone forces, 180; puts wires underground, 239; adopts copper circuits, 240; resumes telephone leadership, 244; talks across continent without wires, 257. W Watson, aids Bell with telephone, 159; telephone partner, 175; helps demonstrate telephone, 175; telephones across continent, 248. Western Union, organized, 96; enters telephone field, 178. Wheatstone, 1; boyhood, 45; five-needle telegraph, 49; single-needle telegraph, 52; Wheatstone-Cooke controversy, 52; automatic transmitter, 53; bridge, 53; opposes Morse, 78; encourages Bell, 145. Wig-wag system, 26. Wireless telegraphy suggested, 188; invented, 202; on shipboard, 221; in the future, 230. Wireless telephone, conceived, 250; future, 260; in navy, 261. 
14278	----	THE RADIO BOYS ON THE MEXICAN BORDER BY GERALD BRECKENRIDGE AUTHOR OF "_The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty_," "_The Radio Boys with the Revenue Guards_," "_The Radio Boys' Search for the Inca's Treasure_," "_The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition_." [Illustration: FRONTISPIECE] A.L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York THE RADIO BOYS SERIES A Series of Stories for Boys of All Ages By GERALD BRECKENRIDGE The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty The Radio Boys with the Revenue Guards The Radio Boys' Search for the Inca's Treasure The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition By A.L. BURT COMPANY 1922 THE RADIO BOYS ON THE MEXICAN BORDER Made in "U. S. A." Table of Contents FOREWORD DIRECTIONS FOR INSTALLING AN AMATEUR RADIO RECEIVING TELEPHONE CHAPTER I - A CRY IN THE AIR CHAPTER II - THE ENEMY NEAR CHAPTER III - A DARING LEAP CHAPTER IV - SHOTS AT THE STATION CHAPTER V - PLANS FOR THE FLIGHT CHAPTER VI - A THIEF IN THE NIGHT CHAPTER VII - KIDNAPPED CHAPTER VIII - HELD FOR RANSOM CHAPTER IX - ON THE DESERT TRAIL CHAPTER X - A BRUSH WITH THE ENEMY CHAPTER XI - JACK CANNOT SLEEP CHAPTER XII - JACK DISCOVERS A TRAITOR CHAPTER XIII - THE NET IS DRAWN TIGHTER CHAPTER XIV - THE KEY TO THE MYSTERY CHAPTER XV - TO THE RESCUE CHAPTER XVI - A SOUND IN THE SKY CHAPTER XVII - INSIDE THE CAVE CHAPTER XVIII - THE FIGHT IN THE CAVE CHAPTER XIX - RESTING UP CHAPTER XX - CONFERRING BY RADIO CHAPTER XXI - GAINING AN ALLY CHAPTER XXII - FLYING TO THE RESCUE CHAPTER XXIII - THE TABLES TURNED CHAPTER XXIV - FRANK SAVES THE DAY CHAPTER XXV - DANGER AT HAND CHAPTER XXVI - THE NIGHT ATTACK CHAPTER XXVII - SENORITA RAFAELA CHAPTER XXVIII - THE FAIR TRAITRESS CHAPTER XXIX - THREE CHEERS FOR THE RADIO BOYS CHAPTER XXX - GOOD NEWS FOR ANXIOUS EARS CHAPTER XXXI - CALM AFTER THE STORM CHAPTER XXXII - MORE ADVENTURE AHEAD FOREWORD The development of radio telephony is still in its infancy at this time of writing in 1922. And yet it has made strides that were undreamed of in 1918. Experiments made in that year in Germany, and by the Italian Government in the Adriatic, enabled the human voice to be projected by radio some hundreds of miles. Today the broadcasting stations, from which nightly concerts are sent far and wide across the land, have tremendous range. Estimates compiled by the various American companies making and selling radiophone equipment showed that in March of 1922 there were more than 700,000 receiving sets installed throughout the country and that installations were increasing so rapidly it was impossible to compute the percentage with any degree of accuracy, as the gains even from week to week were great. When you boys read this the problems of control of the air will have been simplified to some extent. Yet at the beginning of 1922 they were simply chaotic. Then the United States Government of necessity took a hand. The result will be, eventually, that certain wave lengths will be set aside for the exclusive use of amateurs, others for commercial purposes, still others for governmental use, and so on. In this connection, you will note that in the story Jack Hampton's father builds sending stations on Long Island and in New Mexico. This is unusual and requires explanation. The tremendous growth of amateur receiving stations is due in part to the fact that such stations require no governmental license. A sending station, on the other hand, does require a license, and such license is not granted except upon good reasons being shown. It would be natural for the government, however, to give Mr. Hampton license to use a special wave length--such as 1,800 metres--for transoceanic radio experiments. Extension of the license to the New Mexico plant would follow. THE AUTHOR. DIRECTIONS FOR INSTALLING AN AMATEUR RADIO RECEIVING TELEPHONE In order that the boy interested in radio telephony may construct his own receiving set, the Author herein will describe the construction of a small, cheap set which almost any lad handy at mechanics can build. Such a set should be sufficiently powerful to permit of successfully picking up the concerts and other programme entertainments being broadcasted frequently by stations throughout the country. Two drawings are given herewith which will enable boys to visualize the appearance of the set, and will be of aid in following instructions. Referring to Figure 1 let us examine first the construction of the receiving inductance marked L. The latter is shown in detail in Figure 2, and consists of a heavy piece of cardboard. The back of an ordinary writing pad will do. [Illustration: Figure 1] First, draw the circle out with a compass to the diameter shown and then divide off the outside into an unequal number of divisions as shown. Draw a light pencil line through each of these marks to the centre of the circle. Now with your scissors cut out the disc, after which you cut the slots as shown. The slots should be about one-quarter of an inch in width and of the depth shown in the drawing. Two such discs should be made and, when all cut out, should be given several coats of shellac to add stiffness and to improve the insulating qualities. Now at your hardware dealer's buy one-quarter pound of No. 24 double, cotton-covered wire and proceed to wind the coils in the manner shown. Keep the windings even and avoid all joints throughout the length of winding. When you have finished, mount the coils as shown in the drawing. Make sure that the windings on both coils run in the same direction. If you fail to do this, the set will not work. For the detector, it is better to purchase a good make of galena detector at any radio supply store. If you are handy with tools, however, you can buy the galena and make your own detector. It will work with more or less satisfaction. Your next need will be the condenser. The condenser consists of a series of aluminum plates, some of which are movable and the rest stationary. Buy a small variable condenser. Its function is to tune the secondary circuit, which is accomplished simply by turning the knob. Such a condenser could not be made without the use of a good set of tools, and the author strongly advises it be bought instead of made at home in order to avoid trouble. The aluminum plates are spaced very closely and great care should be taken to avoid bending them, as they must not touch each other. The aerial for this set should be about 60 to 100 feet in length and as high and clear of surrounding objects as possible. A simple porcelain cleat at either end, as shown in the drawing, will serve to insulate it sufficiently. Your ground connection can be made best by wiring to the cold water pipe, although wiring to a steam or gas pipe will do almost as well. You are now prepared to mount the various instruments in their proper locations. For your table instruments, get a good pine board about seven-eighths of an inch thick. Buy four binding posts and use one for the aerial wire, one for the ground wire, and two for the phones or head set. To operate the set, first bring the hinged coil of wire close up to the fixed coil and adjust the detector until you can hear in your receivers the loudest click caused by the turning on and off of the key to a nearby electric light. If no light is available, a buzzer and dry battery should be used. When the detector is properly adjusted you will be able to hear the buzz quite distinctly in the head phones if the buzzer is not too far away. [Illustration: Figure 2] The actual adjustment of the detector is rather a delicate job, and once it is in the proper position it is a good plan to avoid jarring it, as it is liable to get out of adjustment very easily. Once the sensitive spot on your detector is found, slowly turn the knob on your condenser and at some spot on it you should be able to pick up signals of some sort, either of radiophone or spark. If the set does not work, then go over all your wiring and be sure that the windings of the two coils are both running the same way. The above set will work well for short distances, say up to twelve or fifteen miles. Beyond that, however, it will not receive music unless you have unusual facilities for putting up an aerial to a considerable height and well clear of surrounding objects. Such a set should be constructed at a minimum of cost and may later, after you have become familiar with the operation of radio appliances, easily be converted into a set of much greater range by the use of a vacuum tube as detector and may even, by slight changes, be given the much desired regenerative effects. CHAPTER I A CRY IN THE AIR "Well, Bob, here we are again. And no word from Jack yet." "That's right, Frank. But the weather has been bad for sending so great a distance for days. When these spring storms come to an end the static will lift and well stand a better chance to hear from him." "Righto, Bob. Then, too, the Hamptons may not have finished their station on time." The other shook his head. "No, Jack wrote us they would have everything installed by the 15th and that we should be on the lookout for his voice. And when he says he'll do a thing, he generally does it. It must be the weather. Let's step out again and have a look." Taking off their headpieces, the two boys opened the door of the private radiophone station where the above conversation took place and stepped out to a little platform. It was a mild day late in June, and the sandy Long Island plain, broken only by a few trees, with the ocean in the distance, lay smiling before them. A succession of electrical storms which for days had swept the countryside in rapid succession apparently had come to an end. The clouds were lifting, and there was more than a promise of early sunlight to brighten the Saturday holiday. The boys looked hopefully at each other. "Looks better than it has for days, Frank." "That's right." A few moments more they chatted hopefully about the prospects, then re-entered the station. Frank Merrick and Bob Temple were chums, a little under 18 years of age each. It was their bitterest regret that they had been too young to take any part in the World War some years before. Frank was dark, curly-haired, of medium height and slim, but strong and wiry. Bob was fair and sleepy-eyed, a fraction under six feet tall and weighed 180 pounds. A third chum and the leader of the trio was Jack Hampton, 19 years of age. He had gone to New Mexico several months before with his father, a mining engineer. All three boys were sons of wealthy parents, with country estates near the far end of Long Island. Frank's parents, in fact, were dead, and he lived with the Temples. Mr. Temple was his guardian and administrator of the large fortune left by his father, who had been Mr. Temple's partner in an exporting firm with headquarters in New York City. Jack Hampton also was motherless. The boys were keenly interested in scientific inventions, and were given every facility by Mr. Temple and Mr. Hampton for indulging their hobbies. Such indulgence required considerable sums of money, but the men believed the boys were worth it. In fact, both gentlemen were scientifically inclined themselves, and were able to give the boys much valuable advice. When Mr. Hampton decided to go to Texas and New Mexico as the representative of a group of "independent" oil operators engaged in a bitter war with the Oil Trust known as the "Octopus," Jack begged so hard to be permitted to go along that his father let him quit Harrington Hall Military Academy two months before the end of the term. It was agreed that when school ended, June 28, Frank and Bob should join Jack in the Southwest for their summer vacation. The two boys owned an airplane in which they hoped to make the trip when the time came. Mr. Temple, however, was dubious about letting them attempt to make so long a flight alone. "But, Dad," Bob would argue, whenever the matter was discussed, "we'll be all right. We've made lots of flights without any accidents. We're as capable as anybody. You know yourself what the instructors up at Mineola told you. You say we are too young to fly away alone. But look at the young fellows that got to be 'aces' in the War! Not much older than we are now." It must be confessed that Mrs. Temple thought little of the matter one way or the other. She had so many social duties to take up her time that there was little left for the boys. Accordingly, the boys had only Mr. Temple to persuade and they felt pretty certain of doing that in time. So the last two months of school were spent in poring over maps and routes, and in studying up on landing fields and flying conditions generally throughout the territory they would have to cover. Much of this study for the proposed flight was carried on at the radiophone station on the Hampton estate. Mr. Hampton was an enthusiast about the development of radio telephony and it was through him the boys first had become interested in the subject. A year earlier he had built a powerful station for the purpose of making experiments in talking across the ocean. On that account the United States Government had granted him a special permit to use an 1,800 metre wave length. Before leaving for the Southwest, Jack told the boys his father intended to build in Texas or New Mexico another radiophone station of similar wave length. This would enable Mr. Hampton to communicate with his New York confreres through his Long Island station. The big thing to the boys, however, was that they would be able to talk to each other across 2,000 miles of territory. Delays in construction in the Southwest had occurred, however, and communication between the two stations had not yet been established when our story opens. As the boys re-entered the station after their inspection of the weather, Bob threw himself sprawlingly into a deep wicker chair and, picking up a book, began idly to turn the pages. Frank went to the table where the control apparatus was located and put on a headpiece. For a few moments there was silence, which Frank presently shattered with a loud cry of: "Bob. Bob. Come here." Bob dropped his book and, leaping to his feet, strode to his chum's side. "What is it?" "Put on a headpiece, Bob," said Frank in a voice of great excitement. "I believe Jack is trying to get us." Excited as his chum, Bob clamped a receiver on his head, while Frank manipulated the "amplifier" and "detector" knobs on the control apparatus. A variety of sounds greeted the boys at first, whistles, calls, and chattering coming to their ears. Then as their tuner searched out the higher regions of the air, they shut out the sounds of the low-range air traffic. There was a thin, shrieking sound. Then, that also disappeared. And then quite suddenly the listening, expectant boys heard Jack's voice speaking to them just as plainly as if he stood in the room. "Frank. Bob. Bob. Frank," Jack was saying. "Can you hear me? Can you hear me?" "Hurray, Jack, sure we can hear you," cried Frank, bending forward to speak into the transmitter on the stand before him. Then as Jack's voice continued calling without paying him any attention, he straightened up and laughed. "Gee. I forgot," he laughed. Laying down his headpiece, he ran across the room; opened a door into the power house adjoining where the mechanic was dozing over his pipe and called to him to throw on the generator. Galloping back, as the man obeyed, Frank again snatched up his headpiece. Bob already was bending over a transmitter, calling to Jack in faraway New Mexico. Both boys listened with straining ears for the response. Presently Jack answered: "I can hear you, but only very faintly. Put that band piece on the talking machine. You know the one I like so much. I can't think of its name. I'll tune to it." Frank hastily shuffled through a pile of talking machine records. Finding the one he sought, he put it on the machine which stood directly in front of a big condensing horn strapped to the back of a chair to give it the proper height. A moment or two later, Jack's voice in the receivers declared: "All right. Shut her off now. I'm fixed fine." "Say, Jack, think of talking 2,000 miles like this," said Bob. "Oh, we've been working some days out here," answered Jack. "But we couldn't get you." "No," cut in Frank. "The static interfered, I guess. But it lifted today." "How are things going, Jack?" Bob inquired next. Jack's voice became excited. "Going?" he answered. "Fellows, I never knew what excitement was until this last week." "What do you mean?" demanded both boys together. "Oh, I couldn't tell you now," laughed Jack. "It would take all day and then some to tell you all that's happening around here. But, let me tell you, between Dad's business opponents and a gang of Mexican bandits that appeared on the scene lately, things are getting pretty lively. Say, when are you coming? Now's the time if ever----" Suddenly, Jack's voice ceased abruptly, to be succeeded a moment later by his agonized cry for "Help." Then there was a crash that rang in the eardrums of the alarmed boys listening in. Then, silence. "Jack. Jack," they called. "What's the matter?" There was no answer. CHAPTER II THE ENEMY NEAR Frank Merrick and Bob Hampton looked at each other in alarm. Their faces were pale. That cry for "Help" which abruptly had cut off Jack's voice as he spoke to them from his radiophone station 2,000 miles away in New Mexico still rang in their ears. Their heads still hummed from the vibrating crash which had succeeded. What did it all mean? Frank snatched the receiver from his head, while Bob removed his more slowly. Frank voiced the question in each mind as he said in a tone of apprehension: "What do you think happened to Jack?" "You know as much as I do," answered his chum. "Well, do you know what I think?" asked Frank with energy. "I think those Mexican bandits he spoke about sneaked up on him." "Well, if they did, they caught a Tartar," said Bob, with conviction, remembering Jack's athletic prowess. All three boys were athletic, good swimmers, boxers and wrestlers, as well as skillful fencers. Jack, however, was unquestionably the superior of the others, except that Bob was the best wrestler. Frank shook his head dubiously. "I don't know," he said. "If there was a bunch of them and if they sneaked up from behind while he was talking." "Just the same," said Bob, "old Jack would put up some battle. I'll bet you the furniture got mussed up all right, all right. That's the reason for that crash. Probably the microphone was torn from the cords. They may even have wrecked the station. Boy, oh boy, don't I wish I'd been there." And Bob doubled up his fists and pranced around, making deadly swings at imaginary foes. "Calm down, Bob," said Frank, dropping into a chair and running a hand through his hair as he was in the habit of doing when perplexed. "We don't know that it happened the way we figure. We don't know what happened. Maybe Jack was badly hurt, maybe he was killed. Or he may be a prisoner of the bandits. "Oh," he cried, leaping to his feet and beginning to walk up and down the room distractedly, "isn't there something we can do? This is maddening." "Calm down yourself, Frank," said Bob, always the cooler of the two in a crisis. "If we can't do any better, at least we can wire to Jack's father and find out in a few hours what happened." At this moment the door was pushed open. A tall man of distinguished appearance, still in the prime of life, and bearing a close resemblance to Bob, entered the room. He glanced inquiringly at the boys. "Something gone wrong?" he asked. "What's the trouble?" "Hello, Dad." "Hello, Uncle George." It was Mr. Temple, Bob's father and Frank's guardian, and there was relief in the boys' voices as they greeted him. He always was so capable in an emergency. "Motored home at noon today," he said. "Guess I've got spring fever. Anyhow, I couldn't stand it in the city. Della told me you were over here and that you thought, perhaps, you would hear from the Hamptons today." Della was Bob's younger sister, and the Temples' only other child. "We heard all right, Dad," said Bob gravely. Thereupon he proceeded to relate what had occurred. Mr. Temple listened in silence. His face showed he was disturbed. At the conclusion of Bob's recital, he walked over to a headpiece and put it on. "No use, Uncle George," said Frank, but Mr. Temple turned to him with a twinkle in his eye. "That so?" he said. With a cry, Frank leaped from his chair, seized a headpiece and put it on. "Hurray, it's Jack," he shouted. Then he bent over to the telephone and called: "Jack. Jack. Are you hurt? What happened?" "Oh, I'm bunged up a little," came back Jack's voice, in a cheerful tone. "But there are no bones broken." "Was it the bandits?" demanded Bob, who had clamped on a third headpiece, as he elbowed Frank aside to speak into the transmitter. "Yes. Three of them," responded Jack. "A scouting party. They sneaked in behind me. Thought I was alone, I guess, but when I hollered for help Dad came in from the power house on the run and the pair of us put them down for the count. We've got them tied up here now. The microphone cord was snapped but I was able to make repairs. So I started calling for you right away." "Jack, this is Mr. Temple," cut in the older man at this point. "If your father is there, please put him on the phone. I'd like to speak to him." "All right, Mr. Temple," answered Jack. "He's right here. Wait just a minute." Frank and Bob politely removed their headpieces and walked to a bookcase, talking in low tones, as they leaned their elbows on the top of it. This room, by the way, deserves a brief description. It was circular and without windows. The walls were hung with a material resembling burlap in appearance, but of special construction and sound-proof. The ceiling was nine feet high. From a point six feet up the walls material like that in the walls stretched to a point in the middle of the ceiling. The room had somewhat the appearance of the interior of a small circus tent. This construction was for the purpose of increasing the acoustic properties. While Mr. Temple conversed with Mr. Hampton, in whose oil operations he naturally was interested, as he had invested a considerable sum in them, the boys talked in whispers. They were frankly envious of Jack's adventures and wishing that they, too, were on the ground. Suddenly, something said by his father caught Bob's attention, and he stopped talking to Frank and turned to listen. "Well, I'll tell you, Hampton," Bob heard his father say, "I've got a sharp attack of spring fever. I think I need a vacation. And if these two youngsters of mine will let me go along, I'll come out with them." Bob couldn't control his eagerness. Going up to his father's side, he pulled insistently at his sleeve. "Wait a minute, Hampton," said Mr. Temple. "Bob has something on his mind." He removed the receiver and regarded his son with a twinkle. "Out with it," he said. "I suppose that quite shamelessly you've been listening to my conversation." "No, Dad, Honest Injun," protested Bob. "Only I couldn't help overhearing that part about you going with us. Say, Dad, we'll go by airplane, won't we?" Mr. Temple groaned in mock dismay. "Run along," he said. "You'll drive me crazy with that airplane business." Then, once more adjusting his headpiece, he resumed his interrupted conversation with Mr. Hampton. Bob returned to Frank, wearing a wide grin. "I couldn't resist putting over that piece of propaganda," he said. "Do you think he'll let us fly?" whispered Frank. "Say," answered Bob scornfully, "now that Dad has decided to go along, it's a cinch. He's as crazy about flying as Mr. Hampton is about the radiophone." "Ssst. Ssst," came a warning whisper, interrupting them. They swung about to face the door into the power house. It was part-way open and the round good-natured face of Tom Barnum, filled now with anxiety, was framed in the opening. Tom was the mechanic-watchman. He beckoned, and the boys tiptoed across the room and into the power house, closing the door behind them. Old Davey, caretaker at the Hampton home, stood there, wringing his hands. "What is it? What's the matter?" Frank Merrick asked sharply. "Old Davey says there's a thief up at the house," said Tom. "A thief?" said Bob. "How do you know?" "Seed him myself with my own two eyes," quavered Old Davey, a little old man who was a pensioner of Mr. Hampton's. "He's a big dark ugly-lookin' feller. I seed him a-sneakin' into the house through the cellar door I left open to git out some garden tools." "Then what did you do?" asked Frank. "I run," said Old Davey, simply. "Leastways I tried to, but my legs ain't what they used to be." "Come on, Bob," said Frank, impulsively. "Let's go see." "Not till we tell Dad, first," said Bob, as always the cooler. Re-entering the sending room, Bob once more gained the attention of his father, who still was in conversation with Mr. Hampton. He told him what Old Davey had reported. Mr. Temple readjusted the headpiece and swung about to the transmitter. "Anything in your house a fellow could carry off in a pocket, Hampton?" he said. "Because the boys tell me there is a thief in it right now, and we're going up to try to catch him." "I don't think so," said Mr. Hampton, and then added in a tone of alarm: "Great guns, Temple, yes. There is. There's a duplicate list among my papers that the Octopus would give anything to obtain possession of. It's a list of the lessees out here in the oil fields who have joined the independents." "All right, Hampton," said Mr. Temple, "we're off." Removing the headpiece, he hurried Bob back into the power house. There he ordered Tom to switch off the motor, lock up and follow them. Then accompanied by the boys and with Old Davey trotting alongside to keep up, he started in swift strides for the Hampton house, which could be seen above the intervening tree tops, about a quarter of a mile away. "I thought you came out from town for a little peace and quiet, Dad," said Bob. "You're certainly getting it, aren't you? Hey. There he goes." And with a shout, Bob started running swiftly toward the figure of a man who had just emerged from the open cellar door at the rear of the Hampton house. CHAPTER III A DARING LEAP At Bob's shout the intruder who had just emerged from the Hampton cellar looked back over his shoulder. Seeing he was discovered he broke into a desperate run. He was heading toward the front of the house where ran the long and winding drive which led to the main highroad. The man shouted hoarsely, and from the front of the house came the sound of a powerful motor engine being set in motion. "He's got a car waiting for him," cried Bob, who was in the lead. "Drat the luck, he'll escape us yet." "Hey, Bob, we can cut 'em off at the Gut," called Frank, and he struck away at a tangent from their course as the man disappeared around the house and the motor car could be heard roaring off down the drive. "Righto," cried Bob, and he followed his chum. Old Davey had dropped far behind and Mr. Temple and Tom Barnum were laboring along some yards in the rear of the two boys and steadily losing ground. "Careful, boys," called Mr. Temple gaspingly, as he grasped the meaning of the boys' maneuver. "Don't be rash. May be several of them." "All right, Dad," sang out Bob over his shoulder. "We'll be careful. Follow along." The boys were heading for a place in the woods where the drive ran between six-foot banks before turning a sharp corner. Cars perforce had to be slowed up going through this place which the boys called the Gut. Furthermore, the drive approached this place by a winding, circuitous route, while the boys were not far distant from it by the shortcut through the woods which they were following. Chances were even that they would be in time to intercept the fugitives. Yet what could they do even if they arrived in time? They gave no thought to that as they crashed through the underbrush. Bob slightly in the lead reached the top of the bank overhanging the road ahead of his comrade and experienced a thrill of triumph as he heard the roar of the approaching car and realized he had arrived first. The car slowed down as it entered the Gut. Evidently the driver remembered the perilous place from when he had driven through on approaching the house. The car passed below going at a snail's pace while Frank was still a short distance in the rear and Mr. Temple and Tom Barnum were not yet in sight. It was an open touring car with the top folded back. There were three men in it, one on the seat beside the driver and the third in the rear. He was the man who had entered the Hampton house. The driver appeared to be a New York taxi chauffeur, and probably had been employed for the trip. The others were swarthy men, foreign in appearance. The man beside the driver, looking up, saw Bob, and shouted. At that moment the car passed directly beneath him, and Bob leaped. He landed on the running board beside the rear seat. Steadying himself as the car lurched from the impact of his weight, Bob reached in and grasped the man on the rear seat by the coat collar and half pulled him from the car, so that his body lay across the door. Then the unexpected occurred. The driver opened his throttle and the car leaped ahead, and at the same time the man beside him stood up and struck at Bob. Bob leaned back to avoid the blow, and the next moment found himself flat on his back in the road, with the car disappearing around the curve. Frank, who by now had reached the top of the bank, dropped to the road beside him and bent over him with real anxiety in his voice as he said: "Bob, Bob, are you hurt?" Ruefully rubbing the back of his head, Bob sat up. "No," said he, "But they got away, Frank." Again there was a crashing in the underbrush on the top of the bank, and Mr. Temple and Tom Barnum came into view, red and perspiring. "Escaped you, hey?" said Mr. Temple, leaping to the road, as Bob scrambled to his feet. "But, say, I see you captured something all right." And he pointed to a coat clutched fast in Bob's hand. Then for the first time Bob noticed that in falling from the car he had dragged his victim's coat with him. He held it up and looked at it curiously. "He must have been wriggling out of his coat when he found you wouldn't let go," surmised Frank. "I could see him threshing around just as I came up to the top of the bank. Then you fell and held on tight and the coat was pulled from him." "Yes, I guess that's the way it happened," assented Bob. "Well, I'd rather have had the fellow. This isn't any good to me." And he tossed the coat away contemptuously. "Not so fast, Bob," said Frank, stooping to pick up the garment. "Let's see what's in the pockets. There may be a clue as to the man's identity." "That's right, Frank," said Mr. Temple. "Search it well. And, Bob, did you notice the license number of the car? We can telephone and have it intercepted." "No," confessed Bob. "I was too busy to get that." Frank interrupted the conversation with a shout of delight. "Look at this," he cried, holding up a long strip of paper. "Return trip ticket to Ransome, New Mexico. And a wallet with a big bunch of bills in it. And here, what's this?" he added, holding up a thick, legal-looking envelope. "Why, Mr. Hampton's name is written on it." "Let me have that, Frank," said Mr. Temple, extending his hand. Frank passed him the envelope. Mr. Temple noted the seal had been broken, and opening it he pulled out a thick document down which he ran his glance hurriedly. Then his face became grave. "Boys," he said, "Mr. Hampton has many things of value in his home, but this was the most valuable of all." Briefly he explained the paper contained a list of names of "independents" in the oil field, together with other information, which would give the Octopus a very great advantage in the business war between the Oil Trust and the "independents" if the document fell into its hands. "This is pretty serious business, boys," Mr. Temple continued. "Bob, you were very rash, but you did a good stroke of business that time. Come," he added, "we'll go back to the house, and call up the police. Maybe that car can be stopped and its occupants arrested." As they turned through the woods, another thought occurred to Mr. Temple, and he asked Frank what was the name of the man to whom the railroad ticket had been issued. "Jose Morales," read Frank. "This is the portion for the return trip from New York. Evidently the man came from--why, Mr. Temple, he came here from Ransome, New Mexico. That's the nearest station on the railroad to the Hampton's camp." "You're right, my boy," said Mr. Temple gravely. "There is some mystery here." Frank thwacked Bob gleefully on the back. "Say, Bob," he declared, "old Jack isn't having all the fun after all, is he?" CHAPTER IV SHOTS AT THE STATION "Boys," said Mr. Temple, when the Temple home, a short distance from the Hampton place, was reached, "come into the library with me. I want to have a serious talk with you." Obediently, Bob and Frank filed into the room and sat down in deep leather armchairs, while Mr. Temple sat back in a swinging chair by his broad, flat-topped desk. Selecting a cigar from the humidor at his elbow, he lighted it and puffed thoughtfully several moments before addressing the chums. "First of all," he said at the conclusion of this period of silence, "I've decided that we will not notify the police of this affair." "Why not, Dad?" demanded Bob in surprise. "We want to keep this matter to ourselves until we can see more clearly what it means," explained Mr. Temple. "We recovered what was stolen, anyhow. But more than that, I begin to suspect there is something more behind all this than mere business rivalry between the independent oil operators and the Trust." "What do you mean, Uncle George?" asked Frank, puzzled. "Well, boys, I'll tell you," said Mr. Temple, speaking deliberately and thoughtfully. "In the first place I know the men at the head of the so-called Octopus. They are keen business men and quick to seize every legitimate advantage. But they are above such unscrupulous tactics as this. "I know the signs point to them as the instigator of our troubles at Mr. Hampton's camp and then here today. But those signs point to something else, too. If you will recall, Jack said the fellows who raided the Hamptons today, or rather tried to do so but failed, were Mexicans. And this man who entered the Hampton house today was a Mexican, too. What was his name, Frank?" "Morales. Jose Morales," said Frank, promptly. "Yes, Jose Morales," said Mr. Temple. "Well, I believe that certain Mexicans are responsible for our troubles, and not our business rivals, at all." "What in the world?" said Bob, puzzled. "But why, Uncle George?" demanded Frank. "In order to make trouble between the United States and Mexico," said Mr. Temple, promptly. "Oh," said Bob, "I begin to see what you're driving at. You mean, then, that by attacking the independents in the Southwest these Mexicans would get us so stirred up that Uncle Sam would take a hand to protect our properties, and might even send troops to the border?" "That's exactly what I mean, Bob," said Mr. Temple approvingly. "But in that case, Uncle George," demanded Frank, "why wouldn't the Mexicans be making trouble for the Octopus, too?" "Because, Frank," explained the older man, "the properties throughout the region where we are located are mainly held by independent operators. The Octopus is trying to gobble us up, but it hasn't succeeded, and won't if we can prevent. But, just the same, it isn't there for the Mexicans to attack. If they want to harass anybody in the hope of getting the United States Government to intervene, they must attack us and our friends and allies." "Yes, I see that now," said Frank, nodding. "But what makes you think the Mexicans want to get into a war with Uncle Sam?" "They don't particularly yearn to come to blows with us, Frank," said Mr. Temple. "And not all Mexicans are involved, if my suspicions are correct, but only a faction. You see, boys, General Obregon has been President of Mexico now for several years, but the country is far from pacified and far from submitting to his rule. The rebel forces in the northern part of Mexico are gaining in strength right along. One of these days they will be in open revolution. "Now these Mexicans who want to depose Obregon would like to get him into trouble with the United States in the hope that what they desire would then come to pass." "I begin to understand you," said Bob, with more animation than usual. "You mean the rebels would like to stir up trouble on the border and get Obregon into hot water with Uncle Sam in just the same way that Pancho Villa some years ago made trouble between our government and Carranza by his raid on Columbus, New Mexico?" "That's it, Bob," said his father. "Gee, Dad," cried Bob. "This time, if there's a war, I'm going to enlist, believe me." "Same here, Uncle George," declared Frank. "Bob and I could go as aviators." "Hurray for the young aviators of the Rio Grande," cried Bob, swinging his arm like a cheer leader of the school team. "You boys don't know what you're talking about," said Mr. Temple, but with an indulgent smile. "I should imagine you would have read enough of the horrors of war during the past few years to make you never want to see a battlefield or shoot a gun at a man." "That's right, Uncle George," said the sensitive Frank, shuddering as he recalled some of the things he had read of Europe's devastation. "No, boys," said Mr. Temple, "if I am right about this, we'll have something more important to do than to fight battles or track bandits across the Mexican desert by airplane." "What?" chorused the chums. "Instead of making war," said Mr. Temple slowly, "we'll have to prevent it." "Righto, Uncle George," cried Frank, springing up. "When do we pack?" "Young man, you're in a hurry, aren't you?" smiled Mr. Temple. "Well, boys, I believe that by day after tomorrow I can have my affairs in order so that I can leave them for awhile. Then we'll start. That is, of course, if you'll carry me as a passenger." "Will we carry him?" said Bob, striding to his side. "Good old Dad." And he thumped his father on the shoulder, a resounding blow that made the older man grimace humorously and draw away from him. They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Frank opened the door to find a maid standing in the passage. She was trembling with excitement. "Oh, Mister Frank," she gasped. "I heard several shots. Seemed like they came from the radiophone station of Mr. Hampton's. I'm so worried about Tom." "That's right, Tom's your sweetheart, isn't he?" said Frank. The maid blushed. Frank re-entered the room, and explained the maid's message practically all in one breath. "We were talking so much that we didn't hear the reports, I suppose," said Mr. Temple, jumping up and snatching at his hat. The boys already were at the door but he called them back. "This time," he said grimly, "I'm not going to have you taking any chances on being killed. You will wait for me, and please remember it." Opening a drawer, he drew out a heavy automatic, broke it open to assure himself it was loaded, and then dropped it in his coat pocket. "All right now," he said. "Let's go." CHAPTER V PLANS FOR THE FLIGHT The boys needed no second bidding. Out of the door, down the passageway, and out of the house, they dashed. Then they headed across an intervening stretch of lawn for the radiophone station, concealed from sight by a clump of trees. Mindful of Mr. Temple's admonition not to rush into danger without him, they checked their pace. But the older man was making good time himself. Through the woods they dashed, emerging within sight of the door of the power house. There stood Tom Barnum unharmed, revolver in hand. At the noise of their approach, he swung about abruptly, bringing up his revolver in doing so. Mr. Temple and the boys shouted, and he dropped the threatening weapon again to his side. "Thought they were comin' back," he said. "What happened, Tom?" queried Mr. Temple, as they surrounded the watchman-mechanic in charge of the Hampton radiophone station with whom they had pursued a thief fleeing from the Hampton home only a short time before. "Well, sir, when we come back from chasin' them fellers in the motor car," Tom explained, "I stopped at your back door a minute to chin Mary an' tell her the news. She wanted to know what all the excitement was about. "Then I come on down here, an' thinks I to myself: 'I'll just get out the old army revolver that I carried in France an' I'll be better fixed for trouble the next time.' So I took 'er out of my locker in the shop here an' swabbed her up an' just got everything slicked when I hear a fellow creeping up to the door an' then voices whisperin' together. "Then the door starts to open slow an' easy like. I seen somebody what hadn't no business here was nosin' around an' I says to myself: 'Tom, it's a good thing you got the ol' army gun fixed up in time.' "Then one of 'em stumbles an' falls agin the door an' open she comes with him a-sprawlin' on the floor. The other fellow is right behin' him but he sees me an' lets out a yell an' turns an' runs. Man, he was a regular jackrabbit, too. I'll say that for 'im. "Well, I been crouchin' by the dynamo an' let out a screech like wild Injun an' fired off a shot through the doorway. Maybe two shots. Say, you'd oughta seen that bird fly then. As for the other fellow, the one that stumbled an' fell, he picks himself up an' tuk out like a whitehead. "I fired agin, high, just to scare 'em. I scared 'em all right, I guess. Anyhow, they disappeared over south there toward that old wood road that nobody uses no more. An' then I hear a motor car roar an' off she goes." "Why," cried Frank, "they must have been the same two men we chased." "Were," said Tom. "Dark-lookin' fellers an' one didn't have no coat. That was the guy Bob peeled his coat off of. I'd know 'em agin easy." For several minutes there was an animated discussion of the exciting events of the afternoon. What puzzled Bob and Frank was the reason for the return of the thieves to the scene from which they had been driven. Nobody could offer a good solution of the mystery until finally Bob said: "Say, I'll bet they were going to hide here in the station and lay for me in the hope of getting back that coat and the papers the thief stole from Mr. Hampton's house." "Yes," put in Frank, "and the wallet with the railroad ticket to Ransome, New Mexico, and all that money, too." "I believe you are right, boys," said Mr. Temple. "These certainly are no ordinary thieves, but desperate men." Tom had re-entered the power house and was pottering around the machinery. "Dad," said Bob, who had been knitting his brow in thought, "according to what you believe, this is all part of a plot of certain Mexicans to embroil their country and ours by making trouble for the independent operators in the Southwest represented by Mr. Hampton. In that case, why should they try so hard to steal that list of the names of the independents. That looks to me like a move on the part of your business rival, the Octopus." "I know it does, Bob," said his father. "The thing isn't clear to me by a good deal. But I believe I am right. However, let's go into the station now and call up the Hamptons out in New Mexico. Both Mr. Hampton and Jack will be interested to hear about what has happened here this afternoon." The boys agreed enthusiastically, and with a word to Tom Barnum to switch on the motor in order that they might have power to telephone, all three entered the station. But, despite repeated calls, they received no response. "I suppose there's nobody at their station, that's all," said Bob. "I suppose so," said his father. "But this business has me worried. Let's hope nothing has gone wrong out there." Reluctantly, all three abandoned their efforts, removed their headpieces, and with a "good-bye" to Tom, who lived in a room at the rear of the station, started for the house. If New Mexico were to call, a light bulb would flash the signal in Tom's quarters, and he would telephone the house. It was twilight when they reached home, and all three went to their rooms to dress for dinner. "Tomorrow," said Mr. Temple in parting, "we'll all drive over to church, and then in the afternoon you boys can go to work preparing the airplane, and I'll lend a hand." Mr. Temple was chairman of the Board of Trustees of an old ivy-covered church in a sleepy village some miles away, and never let Sunday pass without attending divine worship. At dinner the talk was all of the prospective airplane flight to New Mexico. The events of the day were told in detail to Mrs. Temple and Della, Bob's sister. Della, who was an athletic girl of 16, declared she wanted to go with them, but Bob answered rudely, as boys too often speak to their sisters: "Huh," he said, "you'd just get in the way." Mrs. Temple made no objections to the proposed trip, but began immediately to lay plans for filling the house with guests during their absence. And in discussion of the details, Della was appeased. "Say, Bob, why are you so rude to Della?" Frank queried later, in the library, as they awaited Mr. Temple's coming to discuss preparations for the flight. "Huh, she's not your sister, Frank," said Bob. "Anyhow, I believe you're sweet on her." "No, I'm not," said Frank hotly, "but she's a good kid and you ought to treat her better." "Yes, you are, too," said Bob. "I know you. But there's no use getting hot about it. Here comes Dad now," he added, as a familiar footstep sounded in the hall. "Let's get at those maps and guides and we'll dope this out together." For several hours the discussion continued. For months the boys had been making their plans, going over routes, selecting landing fields, etc. Now that Mr. Temple had decided to accompany them, they laid their plans before him. He nodded, well satisfied in the main, but making a few pointed suggestions of value. "And with the radiophone that we carry on the airplane," said Frank, "we can be in touch with Tom at this end and Jack out in New Mexico all the way. That all-metal body of the plane makes a fine ground, better than hanging wires possibly could. And with that new detector Bob and I have worked out, I'll bet we can hear all the way." "Sure," said Bob, getting up and stretching, "Well, come on, Frank. Let's turn in. It's near midnight. I for one need a good night's sleep. And I hope there'll be no trouble to disturb us tonight." Alas, poor Bob could not foresee what calamity the night held in store. CHAPTER VI A THIEF IN THE NIGHT "Wake up, Bob, you old sleepyhead." Bob stirred under vigorous shaking, opened his eyes sleepily, and saw Frank bending over him. His chum had thrown a bathrobe over his pajamas. The door between their connecting rooms stood open. The early morning sunlight of a bright June day streamed in the open windows. "Whazzamatter?" grunted Bob, and closing his eyes he turned over and prepared to snatch an extra forty winks. But Frank shook him again. "Come on," said he. "Stir your stumps. We can slip out before anybody else awakes, grab something to eat in the pantry, and go down to the shed and tinker on the plane. Come on, Bob, we can get in a couple of hours work before going to church." Bob was wide awake by now, and pleased at the prospect held out by his chum. Tumbling out of bed, he headed for the shower in the bathroom which the boys used in common, but Frank restrained him. "Make too much noise," said Frank. "Anyhow, we can take a plunge down at the beach before going to the shed. Come on, get into some old duds and let's hurry." The boys were dressed in short order. In the pantry, to which they tiptoed, they found cold tongue and ham, bread and butter, with which they hurriedly made several sandwiches apiece. It was not much of a breakfast, but their appetites were those of youth and they enjoyed it. Letting themselves out of the back door of the sleeping house, they started on a trot for the little private beach, a good half mile away. The last few yards were made with the boys shedding garments as they ran. Then with a shout they plunged naked into the rollers coming in from the open Atlantic. It was great sport. For twenty minutes they crashed through breakers, wrestled, ducked each other, shrieked aloud secure in the knowledge there was nobody within hearing distance, and in general had a glorious time of it. At the end of that period they rubbed down briskly with rough towels until their bodies were in a healthy glow, then dressed and set out for the airplane shed. This was located some distance back from the beach where a long, level stretch of sandy soil, unbroken by tree or bush, made an ideal landing field. The "shed," as the boys termed it, was, in reality, a substantial structure of corrugated iron, well-anchored to resist the severe Atlantic coastal storms. It stood to one side of the route followed by the boys in going from the house to the beach, with the rear to them, and was midway between the two points and concealed from the house by a clump of trees. When the matter of buying a plane was up for discussion more than a year before, after the boys and Jack Hampton, their absent chum, as well as Mr. Temple--himself an enthusiast about flying--all had become licensed pilots by taking a course at the Mineola flying fields, the question had been whether to buy a hydroplane. That question finally had been solved by the purchase of a light, all-metal plane capable of carrying two passengers besides the pilot and able to alight on water and land. It was not a stock model but was built after a special design. All three boys had flown it, as well as Mr. Temple, and none had ever had an accident. Equipped with a radiophone head set, to which had been added recently a detector designed by Bob and Frank to increase the receiving radius, this plane was the boys' especial pride. What was their dismay, therefore, when they rounded the shed from the rear and found the great doors which they had left padlocked several days before standing open and the interior empty. For several moments they stood as if rooted to the ground, staring in stupefaction. Then Bob groaned, and Frank echoed him. "Gone." "Gone." Frank was the first to recover from his dismay and ran forward to look at the broken padlock, dangling from one leaf of the great folding doors. "Cut through with a file," he called excitedly to his chum. "And this set of big bar locks above and below the padlock were cut the same way." "I always said we should have had one of those rolling iron screens, fitting solidly into the ends of the side walls and rolling up into the roof," groaned Bob, passing on into the interior. "But what's the use locking the barn after the horse is stolen." Disconsolately he moved around the interior of the shed, as if expecting to find concealed somewhere the airplane which he could not yet bring himself to believe had been stolen. Suddenly he let out a whoop. "Frank, look at this." "Great Scott, an Iron Cross," cried Frank, seizing the object held out. A German Iron Cross it was. "And here you can see how this ribbon frayed through and parted from the clasp," added Frank. "Turn it over," said Bob. "If it's a real one given by the Kaiser it will have the recipient's name on it." Sure enough, there it was: "Ober-Lieutenant Frederik von Arnheim." And beneath was inscribed: "Pour le merite." "Great Scott, Bob," said Frank. "What do you make of this?" "Some Hun officer stole our airplane," said Bob. "That's what I make of it." "But the war is over," protested Frank. "Maybe it is," said Bob darkly. "But if that bird doesn't fly back with our airplane I'll make war on Germany myself." Despite his gloom, Frank grinned. He slapped big Bob on the back. "Come on, old boy," he said. "No use hanging around here. We may as well go back to the house and report the latest mystery." "I wonder," said Bob, as they set out, "whether there is any connection between the two--between this theft of our airplane and that stuff yesterday." It was Mr. Temple who was able to provide an answer to that question. The boys found him up and dressed when they reached home, and himself considerably excited over a telephone call from New York City. He, too, was dismayed when told of the theft of the airplane. But when the boys showed him the German Iron Cross he hit the desk before him a resounding blow with his fist. Their conversation took place in the library. "That fits right into the puzzle," said he. "Boys, while you were out of the house I had a long distance telephone call from New York City. The man who called said he was a chauffeur who had driven two men down here yesterday, that he thought they were on legitimate business, but that when Bob tried to stop them he saw they were bad ones, as he put it. Later, when they made him drive them over to the radiophone station and he heard Tom rout them with his pistol shots, he said he drove off as they ran for his car and left them. He inquired in the village and learned my name, and so called me up to clear himself in case I intended starting a pursuit. "And he said," added Mr. Temple, leaning forward and speaking impressively, "that he was pretty certain one man was a Greaser and the other a Hun. Those were his own words. Of course, he meant one was a Mexican and the other a German." "So when this chauffeur abandoned them they stole our airplane to get away," cried Frank excitedly. "Exactly." "Maybe," said Bob, "I copped every cent they had in pulling that Mexican's coat off his back, and they were without carfare back to the city." "Oh, I suppose the German had money," said his father. "The German probably was an aviator. And they stole the airplane in order to escape from here quickly before we could get in pursuit of them. I imagine they'll land in some deserted spot--plenty of them in the sandy reaches along the New Jersey coast, for instance--make their way to a railroad, after abandoning the plane, and go----" "To the Southwest," said Frank, emphatically, interrupting Mr. Temple. "What do you mean?" asked Bob. "Weren't there a bunch of German spies in Mexico, stirring things up there against us, during the war? Well, I'll bet there are some of the same breed there now making all this trouble for Mr. Hampton," said Frank. "A good idea," said Mr. Temple, approvingly. "Well, boys, there will be no church for us today. This matter has got to be attended to." CHAPTER VII KIDNAPPED "Not a trace, Bob. I don't know what to make of this." "Nor I, Frank. A fellow wouldn't believe that right here near New York, in the most densely populated part of the East, two men could steal an airplane and escape without a trace." "Oh, I don't know, Bob. You remember last winter when that aviator from the upper end of Long Island was last seen flying across the Sound toward the Connecticut shore and was never seen or heard of again." "But, Frank, here forty-eight hours have passed. Here we are, Tuesday morning. Dad has wired every city, town and hamlet in the East. Not a sign of the machine, nor of the men." It was, in truth, Tuesday morning. The morning when, everything going as planned, they should have been setting out on their flight to the Hampton camp in New Mexico. Instead, the boys were moodily pecking at breakfast, the airplane had disappeared, and the trip seemed more and more remote. To add to their worries, they had been unable to reopen communication with their chum, Jack Hampton, by radiophone, since that first and only time the previous Saturday afternoon. All their efforts to call him met with no response. The day before, moreover, a telegram had been sent Mr. Hampton by Bob Temple's father, informing him in code of recent mysterious occurrences, including the theft of the airplane, telling him the boys had tried to call Jack by radiophone, but without response from his powerful New Mexico station, and asking whether all was well with him. No answer had yet been received. "Mister Robert," said Mary, the maid, entering the breakfast room, as the two boys sat in moody silence, "your father wants you and Mister Frank in the library." The boys hurried to the library at once, where they found Mr. Temple, very grave of face, bent above a lengthy telegram which he had just finished decoding. "It's from Jack," he said, "And the poor fellow is in a lot of trouble. Listen." He read: "Dear Friends, Father has been kidnapped. Two men in airplane carried him away into Old Mexico. Since getting your telegram few minutes ago realize it may have been your airplane. Wasn't there and didn't see it but description of machine given by cowboy on the range who saw it all tallies with description of your machine." Mr. Temple paused for breath, and Frank, who had been computing mentally, interrupted. "Our plane could do it all right," he said. "That is, if--When did this happen?" "Monday noon or a little later," said Mr. Temple. "Well, they stole it sometime Saturday night," said Frank. "Yes, they wouldn't have had to make more than eighty miles an hour steady flying to do it. But where did they get the petrol?" "Why," Bob reminded him, "we had her stocked with oil and gas. And the spare tanks filled, too. That wasn't impossible." Mr. Temple resumed: "Haven't answered your radiophone calls because didn't get them. Have been so busy running around in circles, haven't had time to watch the telephone. But if you call me when you get this shall be on the watch. Father was kidnapped Monday noon. No word from him. Need your help." "He certainly does," said Mr. Temple, emphatically, as he concluded reading. "And he'll get it, too. Come on, boys, let's call him up." Evidently Jack was on the watch for their signal, for he answered at once, and as soon as each had tuned to their private 1,800-metre wave length, the Temples and Frank were given the full details as to the kidnapping of Mr. Hampton. He had been riding horseback across the range, miles from any oil derricks or pumping stations, on his way to visit one of the "independent" oil operators. A lonesome cowboy hunting a stray was the only other human being in sight, and he was a half mile away. Suddenly out of the sky swooped an all-metal airplane, glistening in the sun. It made a beautiful landing on the sandy soil, bumped along over a few clumps of mesquite, and came to rest close beside Mr. Hampton. The latter jumped from his horse, and started running toward it. Evidently, Jack thought, his father believed the Temples and Frank had unexpectedly arrived. Then the watching cowboy saw two men leap from the airplane and start for Mr. Hampton, who turned as if to run. Thereupon, one of the two pointed a revolver at him and he turned, perforce, and surrendered. He was put into the airplane, the two men again climbed aboard, and the machine soared up into the sky before the astonished cowboy could more than set his horse in motion. All this Jack explained and then asked: "Mr. Temple, what would you advise me to do?" "Does anybody else know of this?" "Only the cowboy who saw it and I," said Jack. "This cowboy knew father by sight, and came direct to me with the information. I've made him promise not to tell anybody until he hears from me." "That's right, Jack," said Mr. Temple, very earnestly. "This information must not get out. I believe, Jack, your father will be safe from harm and that the men who seized him are intent on embroiling Mexico and the United States. Now we don't want any more wars, Jack, and we must try to get your father back without the aid of troops." "Yes, sir," said Jack. "Father and I have suspected what the game was, and that was why I told the cowboy to say nothing." "Good," said Mr. Temple, approvingly. "Now, Jack, that the mystery of the airplane's disappearance has been cleared up, we are ready to leave at once. We can get out of New York City on the 6 o'clock train tonight. Look for us Friday. I'll say good-bye until then, and let the boys speak to you, for I know they are dying to do so." While the boys and Jack conversed, Mr. Temple sought out his wife. After explaining the necessity for his abrupt departure with the boys for New Mexico, he said: "I should worry if I thought you would be subjected to annoyances while we were away. But I believe there will be no more trouble here. And with the servants in the house and the guests you have invited, you may feel perfectly safe." "Oh, Dad, I think you're awfully mean not to take me along," pouted Della, who was present. "Why, Lassie," said her father, "with a bunch of harum scarum boys to look after, my hands will be full enough." "Yes, you think they're just boys," flashed his young daughter. "But you wait and see. They'll be taking care of you. Just you wait and see. Frank is awfully clever." "Frank?" said Mr. Temple teasingly, with a meaning look. Della flushed, and made an excuse to leave the room a moment later. "I wish, George, that you wouldn't tease her about Frank," said Mrs. Temple. "She's such a child." "Yes," said Mr. Temple, thoughtfully. "I suppose so. But," he added, "I'm glad she likes Frank." CHAPTER VIII HELD FOR RANSOM "Great Scott, Jack, how different you look. What a peach of a get-up." The Temples, father and son, and Frank Merrick stood on the gravel-bed outside the little wooden box doing duty as station at Ransome, New Mexico. The transcontinental flier which had dropped them, was dwindling in the distance. Jack Hampton, whom the chums and Mr. Temple had crossed the country from New York to join, was in the center of the group. Greetings had been exchanged, they had all slapped each other on the back indiscriminately and enthusiastically, and now Bob Temple stood off at arm's length to admire his chum. "Yes, sir. Some get-up," he added. "Righto," agreed Frank, also gazing at the handsome Jack admiringly. "Where do you get 'em? Lead me to the store right away." Jack, who was 19 and the oldest of the three chums, was almost as tall as the six-foot Bob, but of more slender build than that gridiron warrior. He had the build of a thoroughbred, long legs, flat hips, trim waist, deep chest and broad shoulders and a flat back. Both at dashes and distance running Jack easily was supreme at Harrington Hall Military Academy, which all three boys attended. Like Bob he was fair and had curling chestnut hair. His eyes were blue and lively, his features not too regular. Altogether, he was a striking figure. Today he was dressed in khaki shirt and breeches. Instead of puttees he wore high, laced leather boots that reached to his knees. On his head, pushed back so that his wavy hair showed in front, was a wide-brimmed sombrero. By his side, suspended from a cartridge belt, swung an automatic revolver in its holster. This was the outfit so admired by his chums from the East, trim in their light-weight summer suits of the latest cut and wearing low tan shoes more adapted for city streets than for the sands stretching inimitably on every hand. "We've worried considerably while aboard the train, Jack," said Mr. Temple, "for fear something dire might happen to you these last two or three days. I'm glad to see you are all right. Any word from your father?" Jack shook his head in negation. "Not a word," said he, "since those two rascals picked him up in your airplane and headed for Old Mexico." "Well, don't worry, Jack," said Mr. Temple. "I don't believe his life is in danger." "I'm trying not to worry, sir," said Jack. "But now that you and the fellows are here, we shall have to get busy at once. It has been pretty hard to wait for you. I wanted to ride into Old Mexico myself at once." Bags in hand the group was moving to the rear of the station, and now came in sight of a ramshackle automobile with a Mexican at the wheel, easily distinguished by his swarthy coloring and his ragged mustaches, as well as by his peculiar dress--a steep crowned hat like a sugar loaf, with a very wide brim, a tight bolero jacket that did not reach to the waist and disclosed a dark blue silken shirt beneath and tight-fitting trousers that flared at the bottom. "That is Remedios and his flivver," explained Jack. "He does odd jobs all through this region. I hired him to take us out to camp. But before we climb aboard, take a look at this view." Obediently, they paused and gazed at the surrounding country. In the foreground was a wide dirt street at the rear of the station. For the equivalent of the length of a city block it was lined on both sides with wooden structures one-story in height, but with the false fronts of the frontier country pretending to second stories--a front wall sticking above the roof and with the semblance of windows painted on it. A dry goods store, a Chinese laundry, an alleged hotel, several restaurants, several ex-saloons still carrying on some kind of business--these comprised the lot. At one end the street ran abruptly into the desert. At the other was a cluster of old freight cars made into dwellings, with Mexican men, women and children loitering in front in the sun. This was Ransome. "Not much of a town," said Jack, "just a trading post for a wide stretch of this country around here. But look at the setting, will you?" And he swept a hand in a wide gesture indicating the horizon. On every hand stretched the desert, broken by clumps of mesquite and cactus with the only trees in the landscape the thick belt of cottonwoods lining the banks of a stream that rose in the mountains to the north and ran by the town. North, east, south and west lofty mountains gleamed on the far horizon, while closer at hand rose the foothills. These latter were of fantastic shapes, like castles, tables or crouching animals, and of the most vivid coloring. Over all was the warm and brilliant sunshine of late afternoon. As for the air, it was clean and despite the warmth of the day already beginning to turn cool as the sun hovered on the rim of the farthest mountains to the west. "Some country," said Bob emphatically. "Wait until you have known it day in and day out for months," said Jack. "You will never want to go back to Long Island." "Is that the way you feel about it, Jack?" asked Frank. "Oh, well, I suppose I'll want to go home sometime," said Jack. "But just the same, I'm in love with this country. As for the old-timers off there in the hills, you couldn't drive them away." "Say, Jack," said Frank, as they all continued standing and gazing at the surrounding scene, "I thought we'd see some oil derricks around here. But there isn't one in sight." "No, Frank," interposed Mr. Temple, in explanation, "you see the Independents are mainly located over in the Panhandle, or upper western portion of Texas and in Oklahoma. That is east from here. But Mr. Hampton had his geologists in through this region, and they reported the prospects for finding oil favorable. Then the Independents came in quietly and took up leases, and Mr. Hampton followed to prepare for development of the field." "Yes, that's the way of it," agreed Jack. "Say, Jack," said Frank, "I'm hungry as a hunter. If we are going to get dinner at your camp, let's move along. How far is it, by the way?" "Ten miles," said Jack, leading the way toward the automobile with its dozing Mexican at the wheel. "Come on." The others followed and were about to climb into the automobile when the rapid hoofbeats of a galloping horse ringing on the sun-baked clay of the street drew their attention, and they paused. "Why, it's Gabby Pete," said Jack in surprise, moving forward a step as the rider reined up his horse so sharply that it reared and slid on braced hind legs. The animal came to rest so close to him that Jack was forced to give back a step, and it stood there snorting and blowing. An oldish man of tremendous girth, but who sat his horse easily despite his size, grinned down at Jack. He was white-haired and under the brim of his sombrero little eyes twinkled genially and shrewdly in a round, fat face. "What brings you here, Pete?" asked Jack, sharply. "I thought you were at camp, getting dinner for my guests." He indicated the boys and Mr. Temple, who stood close at hand, looking on. "Who will prepare dinner for them now?" Gabby Pete, the talkative camp cook, scratched his head under his sombrero, and looked solemn. "Waal, they'll have ter wait a bit," he said. "But I kin rustle grub in a hurry onct I git back ter camp. An', anyhow, Mr. Jack, a feller came to camp a while ago in one o' them there aeryoplanes. Jest flew up almost to the door an' steps out an' gin me this yere letter." Here Gabby Pete produced a missive from the front of his shirt, and passed it to Jack. "He sez as how it war most partickler that you git it right away. So I rid in with it," said Gabby Pete, adding aggrievedly: "an' now you hop on me fur it." Jack seized the missive in a sudden fever of anxiety. An airplane? He opened the letter, took in its contents at a glance, and turned excitedly to his chums. "Father's held for ransom," he cried. "Here. Read this." CHAPTER IX ON THE DESERT TRAIL Eagerly Mr. Temple, Bob and Frank gathered around Jack, crowding to read over his shoulders the missive left at camp by a messenger in an airplane and brought to Ransome by Gabby Pete, the camp cook, following Jack, who had gone to the little New Mexican town to meet the party from the East. The writing was cramped and foreign, as if the pen were wielded by a hand more accustomed to form German script than English letters. The missive was brief: "Sir, this is to inform you that Mr. John Hampton is held in a secure place. One hundred thousand dollars must be paid for his release. A man riding alone must bring the money in United States bills of one thousand dollars each to the Calomares ranch two weeks from today. He must wear a white handkerchief in his hat." While the others read, Jack turned to Gabby Pete and said authoritatively: "Pete, you heard me say something just now about my father being held for ransom. I believe you are my friend." Gabby Pete nodded violently. "Well, forget what you heard. If anybody asks you, remember that father has gone East on business." "Sure, boy," said Pete. "I'm a tombstone. Well, me an' Angel Face here," and he slapped his horse affectionately, whereat Angel Face reared and pranced, giving the lie to her name, "we may as well git started fur camp so's to feed you when you arriv." Jack laid a restraining hand on Pete's knee. "Wait just a minute, Pete. Do you know where the Calomares ranch is located?" Pete nodded. "Aw, sure," he said, "that must be Don Fernandez y Calomares, down in Ol' Mexico. That's a good hundred mile acrost the border. It's in a valley in them mountains," he added, pointing to the darkening southern horizon. "And who is this Don?" "Waal," drawled Gabby Pete, plaintively, "I stick to hum so much o' the time I never git to talk to nobody nor hear the noos. But seems to me I did hear onct about him. Yes, sir, somebody sez as how Don Fernandez lives in a palace in that wilderness jest like a king of old, with armed ree-strainers or whatever you calls 'em----" "Retainers, Pete," said Jack, suppressing a smile. "Yes, that's the word. An' this feller what tol' me sez as how he's very proud and haughty-like an' has a beyootiful daughter, an'----an'----" Pete dropped his voice, and paused, eyeing Remedios, the Mexican in the nearby flivver. "Think he kin hear me," he whispered. "Guess not," said Jack. "Why?" He, too, looked toward Remedios. The latter had his back to them and was blowing indolent wreaths of smoke from a brown paper cigarette. "I don't trust that feller, that's all," whispered Gabby Pete hoarsely. "He's down acrost the border too much o' the time. Anyhow, as I was sayin', this yere Don Fernandez is agin the Obregon gov'ment an' backin' a new revolution. That's what the feller tol' me, anyhow. Waal, Mr. Jack, Angel Face an' me will go an' git dinner." And with a slap on his horse's flank that caused her to spin about and dash away, Gabby Pete was off. Jack turned to his companions. "First thing is to get to camp, I guess," he said. "Then after dinner we can talk over what has to be done. What do you say?" "I say let's eat," said Frank, plaintively. "He's got the biggest appetite for his size I ever saw," said Bob, affectionately, slapping his smaller chum on the back. "I second Jack's motion," said Mr. Temple, seizing his bags and leading the way to the car. The others also picked up their bags and followed. "We know now that your father is safe, Jack," said Mr. Temple. "So the news in that note wasn't so bad, after all." "That's right," agreed Jack. "Well, climb in fellows, and let's get started." It was a tight squeeze. Jack sat in front with Remedios and one of the bags. Mr. Temple and Bob, both big individuals, filled the rear with the balance of the bags. Frank, who had gone to the front of the car to crank it, found no room within for him when he returned. He leaped to the running board. "I'm light," he said. "I'll sit on the door. Let's go." Remedios opened the throttle and with a rattle and roar, the ramshackle old car darted ahead on the road taken by Gabby Pete, and soon had left the town behind and was out on the desert. Only the upper edge of the sun stood now above the western mountains, and the purple shadows were long across the plain. In the east the sky was darkest blue and the stars already twinkled brightly. A rosy light lingered at the zenith, while above the western mountains the sky was ruddy bright with the afterglow as the sun slipped farther and farther down and finally vanished altogether. Then night began to descend with a swiftness unknown in the East. The rattle of the car made conversation difficult and the newcomers lapsed into silence, becoming absorbed in watching the majesty of the scene. Presently the engine began to miss fire, then emitted a final groan as Remedios closed the throttle, cutting off the flow of gas, and stopped. Remedios threw the clutch into neutral, applied the brake, and climbed out. Raising the cover of the hood, he peered within. Then he shook his head dolorously. "It is of no use, Senor," he said to Frank, who had jumped from the running board and stood beside him. "She is finish. The spark plug, she is on the--what you call it?--the bum." And with an air of finality, he closed the cover. At the same moment he turned to peer anxiously down the road ahead, whence came now on the still twilight the thudding hoofbeats of a galloping horse, rapidly growing louder. His mechanical instincts awake, however, Frank paid no attention to the approaching horseman. He had again lifted the cover, as Remedios turned away, and, lighted match in one hand, was twisting at a spark plug with the other. "Shucks," he cried, withdrawing his head, "that Number One plug wasn't screwed in tightly enough, that's all. I'll bet she'll go now, just the way I tightened her by hand. And if I only had a pair of pliers----" At that moment, the galloping horseman dashed up alongside, pulling his horse back on his haunches. It was Gabby Pete, his hat gone, his face red with excitement. Far over he leaned to call to the astonished occupants of the car. "Bandits," he cried hoarsely. "Greasers. Comin' in an auto. I come back to warn you." And facing about he pointed to where a cloud of dust behind him on the desert road indicated a rapidly oncoming car. "Grab that crank," cried Frank to Remedios, and he sprang for the driving wheel. "I'll make this old bus go." "Not so fast, Senor," said Remedios suavely, and seizing Frank's arm he whirled the young fellow about. Frank looked into the muzzle of a revolver which Remedios held leveled at him. CHAPTER X A BRUSH WITH THE ENEMY "Crack." The explosion of a revolver shot. "Wow." A yell of pain. Remedios seized his shooting wrist in his left hand and danced up and down in the road, while his weapon fell to the ground. Frank, who a moment before had been gazing into the leveled weapon of the traitorous Mexican chauffeur, whirled about to face his friends in the car. Smoking revolver in hand, Jack Hampton stood upright in the front seat. It was he who had fired the shot. "I didn't touch him," cried Jack, "merely shot his revolver from his hand. Jump in Frank, for here come the bandits." With a rattle and roar the car of the bandits approached, not the length of two city blocks away on the desert trail. Frank took in the situation at a glance. "Crank for your life," he ordered Remedios. "Jack, keep him covered." As the Mexican sprang to the crank, and started turning, Frank leaped to the driver's seat of the flivver and manipulated throttle and spark. With a clatter the engine turned over and began to race. Closer came the bandits, their car slowing down as it approached. Jack leaned far over the windshield, his weapon leveled at Remedios. "Up on the hood," he shrieked. "Up with you, or I'll shoot you full of holes." Remedios threw himself sprawlingly over the hood. The bandits' car had slowed almost to a stop, four or five lengths away. Frank released the hand brake, pressed the clutch into low with his foot, and shot ahead. Shifting the clutch into high, Frank opened the throttle wide and the old rattletrap seemed fairly to leap ahead, its wheels spurning the ground. The lights of the other car which had theretofore seemed dimmed were switched to full brightness. Before the blinding glare in his eyes, Frank involuntarily ducked his head. As his eyes left the road, the car swerved. A shot rang out from the car of the bandits, ripping high and doing no damage. "Look out, Frank. Swing her over," cried Jack in alarm. Shouts of panic rose from the car of the bandits, too. Too late. There was a crash, the flivver lurched, then sped on. As rapidly as possible Frank brought it to a stop and then stood up to look back and view the damage. Mr. Temple and Bob, in the rear seat, already were on their feet. Jack stood beside Frank, peering into the shadows behind. The moon was in its first quarter, low down and shed only a faint radiance. But even by the wan light, it could be seen that something dire had happened to the car of the bandits. It stood sideways across the road, leaning drunkenly to one side. And to the ears of the boys came groans from a number of dark figures in the road. Gabby Pete, temporarily forgotten by the boys in the excitement, galloped up, cheerful voiced. "As neat a trick as ever I see," he cried approvingly to Frank. "You tuk off their hind wheel jest like a knife cuttin' butter. They're tumblin' around in the road, a half dozen of 'em. Hey, look out." And Gabby Pete bent low on his horse as a bullet whistled overhead. Another and another followed, and there were shouts of vengeance, and imprecations. "They're a-comin' to," cried Gabby Pete, slapping Angel Face on the flank, so that the horse leaped forward with a snort. "I'm on my way." And he disappeared into the darkness. "We're on our way, too," cried Frank, opening the throttle and pressing down the clutch, as more bullets whistled overhead. "Give 'em a shot, Jack, and everybody stoop down." Jack fired off his revolver, shooting high purposely. He wanted merely to frighten their pursuers into desisting. Then the car gathered momentum, and was soon out of range. Presently Frank, who had been driving the flivver as fast as it would go, with the result that they were all tossed about while the car lurched precariously over the rutted road, slowed down to a more moderate pace. "Anybody hurt?" he called. "They never touched me." "Not a scratch," answered Mr. Temple. "Same here," cried Bob and Jack together. "Say, though," cried Frank, suddenly realizing Remedios no longer sprawled on the hood, "we've lost our passenger." "Good riddance," said Bob. "Must've thrown him off when we struck the other car," decided Jack. "Or else he jumped off when his chance came," surmised Mr. Temple. To a query from Frank as to the route to be followed and the distance to camp, Jack made answer that the road lay straight ahead with no laterals cutting into it, and that camp was only a couple of miles beyond. "Say, Jack," declared Bob with a laugh, "that was some reception committee you got out to meet us." "Yes," kidded Frank, "what were you aiming to do, anyway? Put on a Wild West thriller for a bunch of tenderfeet fresh from New York?" Jack laughed. "Tenderfeet, your grandmother," he said. "It looked to me as if the effete Easterners put on the thriller for the bandits." Relieved at the safe outcome of their adventure, everybody joined in the laugh, and for several minutes the high good humor manifested itself in jokes bandied back and forth. Then a 'dobe ranch house loomed ahead, low-lying, of four or five rooms, a wide, dirt-floored porch along its length, upon which the rooms gave through separate doors. At the rear were a clump of shadowy outbuildings and a corral. To one side and some distance away stood a low frame building and a high, latticed tower with antennae, which the chums recognized with a shout of delight. "There's the radiophone station, hey, Jack?" Frank drew the car to the porch, and Gabby Pete, at the sound of its approach, opened the door of the kitchen and emerged, big spoon in hand, the lamplight streaming from the room behind him, and savory odors floating out to the hungry boys. "Come an' git it," he called sonorously. "What does he mean Jack?" asked Bob. "I hope he means dinner," said Frank, sniffing hungrily. "He does," laughed Jack. "That's the way camp cooks announce food is ready in the cow camps, as I understand it. And Gabby Pete is an old cowman." "Well, lead me to it," said Frank, and all followed Jack into the house. CHAPTER XI JACK CANNOT SLEEP "Well, now, boys, let's see where we stand," said Mr. Temple, after all had partaken heartily, amid excited but disjointed conversation, of a surprisingly good dinner of pork and beans, boiled potatoes, fresh tomatoes and lettuce, bread pudding and coffee. He pushed back his chair as he spoke, and lighted a cigar. "First of all," he said, "we have got to consider the kidnapping of Mr. Hampton and decide what shall be done in the matter, what moves we must make. Then there is this series of mysterious happenings, all of which have a bearing on the case, if we can find the solution. "Here, for instance, is this man Remedios. Evidently he was in league with the Mexican bandits who attacked us, and it was his part of the conspiracy to stage a breakdown so that we could be easily attacked. Now who were the bandits, and what did they want? Were they ordinary robbers after money, or was their object something deeper? Was it part of this plot against our oil interests?" He paused to puff his cigar into renewed life. All three chums had been listening with eager attention. Now Jack Hampton spoke. Mr. Temple earlier had elaborated for Jack's benefit his theory that a faction of Mexican rebels was responsible for the outrages of which they had been the victims, hoping thereby to embroil Mexico and the United States and thus cause trouble for President Obregon. "Mr. Temple," said Jack, leaning forward, "I do not believe those bandits were after money. Didn't it strike you all as strange that they were in an auto? Well, it did me. The bandits of the border usually are mounted on horseback. These men, on the contrary, had a high-powered car. No, that attack was due to a carefully laid plan. And do you know what I think their purpose was? It was to capture you." Bob and Frank, elbows planted on the table, leaned forward surprised. Mr. Temple, however, showed no surprise, but merely looked thoughtful. "You see," continued Jack, "you are an American of wealth and position. They already have captured father. Now, if they were to capture you, there certainly would be some commotion at Washington, the national capital, that would make trouble for President Obregon of Mexico. Maybe another punitive expedition would be sent into Mexico, like General Pershing led in the time of Carranza, after Villa's raid on Columbus, New Mexico. At least, that's what they expect, I guess." Mr. Temple nodded, but remained silent. "But, Jack," demanded Frank, "if you are right in your surmise, then it means that these fellows knew in advance of our coming." "Yes," said Jack, "that's the puzzling thing about it." "Anybody here know we were coming?" asked Bob, speaking for the first time. "Sure," said Jack, "Gabby Pete knew. And Rollins, father's assistant. But you met the one, and you know he can be trusted. As for Rollins, I don't know much about him. He's a queer, silent man. Not here tonight, because he left early this morning to see a man on business over here some twenty miles or so. He said he might not return tonight. But I know father trusted him." "Then, Jack, there is one other thing to be considered," said Bob. "And that is, has anybody among our enemies--for I suppose we can call them that--listened-in when we spoke by radio?" "Of course," said Jack, "with all these amateur receiving sets in use nowadays it is pretty hard to get absolute secrecy. But, in the first place, since that Washington conference, the government has limited the use of certain wave lengths. Now we are licensed to use an 1,800 metre wave length, and I imagine there are very few--at least in this region--who could 'tap' our conversation. In addition, of course, we used our code in discussing when you would arrive." "No, you're wrong," said Bob. "You used the code when you telegraphed that your father was kidnapped. But, as I recall it, when we spoke by radio after getting your wire, we all were so excited we never thought of the code." Frank nodded agreement. "That's right," he said. "But, anyhow, we never thought of making it a secret. Perhaps your cook--this Gabby Pete--said something innocently in town. Or the word got around somehow." "Yes, I suppose that's the way it happened," said Jack, dismissing the subject. "But the question now is, what are we going to do? Shall we, telephone the county sheriff about this attack on us tonight and about Remedios? And--what shall we do about father?" Mr. Temple who had been puffing thoughtfully throughout this discussion, his head bowed, now looked up, and shook his head in negation. "Let's not notify the sheriff," he said. "The minute we bring the authorities into this, we run the danger of letting our whole story become known. Then the end which these mysterious enemies of ours seek will be attained. That is, the government will be drawn into the situation. "As to your father, Jack," and Mr. Temple paused, "well, we shall have to think the matter over pretty carefully before we undertake to do anything. In the first place, as I have said before, I believe he was captured in order to make trouble between Mexico and the United States. Now, here comes a note from his captors demanding that we pay a ransom of one hundred thousand dollars. How does that fit into my theory? "Well, if we appeal to Washington and ask our government to demand Mr. Hampton's release, there certainly will be trouble. And that, I believe, is what the enemy counts on us to do. If they really were after a ransom, and had no other object in view, it is likely they would not have asked for so big a sum, and also would not have given us two whole weeks in which to carry out their demands. No, I am convinced they expect us to go to Washington and make trouble. Therefore, that is the one thing we must try to avoid doing." "But, look here, Mr. Temple," said Jack, impulsively and with just the slightest quiver in his voice, "he's my father." "Yes, I know, Jack," Mr. Temple said in a sympathetic tone, "and I know what you're thinking of. You're thinking your father is a prisoner and ill-treated. And you're saying to yourself that while we hold back here from appealing to the government, something dreadful may happen to him. Isn't that so?" Jack gulped unashamedly, and turned his head away. "Something like that," he said, in a muffled voice. The older man dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry too much, my boy," he said. "We may appeal to Washington, and let the consequences go hang, if that is the only way to bring back your father. But we don't want to act too hastily. Let's turn in now and get a good night's sleep. Then in the morning we'll decide on something definite." It had been a long discussion, and Bob and Frank were content to do as Mr. Temple proposed. Jack, perforce, agreed, although the strain of the last few days, which he had carried alone, was beginning to tell on him and he yearned for instant action. He showed the others to their rooms, Bob and Mr. Temple sharing Mr. Hampton's room, and Frank bunking in with Jack himself. After Frank had undressed and tumbled into bed, so dog-tired, as he said, that he could barely keep his eyes open to see the way to his pillow, Jack went out to stand in the starlight on the porch. After leaning against a pillar some minutes, during which his active brain kept milling endlessly over the details of the past few days, he had an impulse to go over to the radiophone station and talk to the guard, an ex-cowboy, on duty there since the attack by three Mexicans at the time this story opened. Hands in his pockets, head bowed in thought, he moved across the hard packed sand, his feet making practically no sound. CHAPTER XII JACK DISCOVERS A TRAITOR Two figures stood at the door of the radio station power house. The station was a duplicate of Mr. Hampton's other station on his Long Island estate, earlier described. So engrossed were the two men in whispered conversation that they were unaware of Jack's noiseless approach. The soft sibilant sound of whispering which came to his ears just as he was about to approach the door roused Jack from his reflections. His suspicions were on the alert because of the happenings of recent days, and he halted. Certain, after standing a moment with every nerve tensed, that he had not been seen, Jack backed cautiously until again around the corner of the building. Who were the two men? What were they whispering about? Pressing against the side of the building, Jack thought quickly. One of the two must be the night watchman. Perhaps the other was the man who kept guard at the station by day. If he were, thought Jack, then, perhaps, some new danger menaced and the night man had called the day man to help him. This theory also would account for the fact that they were whispering, instead of conversing in normal tones. So probable did this supposition seem to Jack that he decided to join the men and ask what the danger was. Caution, however, prompted him to reconnoitre by peeping around the corner before stepping into the open. The next moment he was thankful he had done so. For, as he looked, one of the two struck a match and held it in cupped hands to a cigarette, and Jack saw the man was Remedios. Drawing his head back quickly, Jack leaned against the building, trying to compose his thoughts. What was Remedios doing here? Not many hours before he had foiled the plan of the traitorous Mexican chauffeur to deliver him and his friends to the enemy. Was Tom, the ex-cowboy, on guard at the radio plant, a traitor? Jack could not believe it. Footsteps were approaching from around the corner. Jack looked around wildly. There was no shelter near enough to which to flee. He whipped out his automatic, flung himself down alongside the wall, and waited. Two men appeared, but instead of rounding the corner they moved straight ahead. They were in earnest, but low-voiced conversation. They did not see him. Jack stifled an exclamation. The man with Remedios was Rollins, his father's trusted assistant. So stunned was Jack at the revelation that he did not strain to overhear what they were saying. In a moment they were beyond earshot. Trembling with rage at this evidence of treachery on the part of Rollins, Jack rose to his feet. He intended to stalk the two conspirators. Then a new idea occurred to him. What were they doing at the radio plant? Perhaps, for reasons of their own, they had damaged it or put it out of commission. He decided to investigate. Rollins and Remedios were now out of sight toward the front of the ranch house. Perhaps Rollins would have the audacity to take the other into his room, which opened like the other rooms directly upon the porch or gallery. If so, Jack could surprise them later. First, he would investigate at the radio plant. Walking swiftly, he approached the door of the power house. An electric light shone within. The guard, Tom, jumped up from a chair where he had been sitting, reading, at the sound of Jack's hurried footsteps. His hand reached for the ready revolver at his side, but was withdrawn at sight of his visitor. "Oh, it's you, Jack," he said, addressing him familiarly, for a warm friendship had sprung up between the two. "I thought it might be a Greaser." "Tom," said Jack, without any preliminaries, and showing his excitement in his voice and manner, "what was Mr. Rollins doing here? Who was that with him?" Well enough Jack knew who the stranger was. But good friend though Tom was, Jack wanted to test him. The circumstances certainly were suspicious. "Didn't see the other feller," Tom answered. "He stayed outside. Mr. Rollins said he was an oil driller. Mr. Rollins went into the station there." Tom motioned to the radio operating room beyond a closed door. "Asked me to throw on the juice so he could use the telephone." "Whom did he talk to?" "Why, I don't know," said Tom. "How would I?" "How long was he in there?" "Why, fifteen, twenty minutes. Maybe half an hour. Why, Jack? Anything wrong?" "Yes, Tom, there is," said Jack. "Can I trust you?" Tom looked hurt. "That's fer you to say." "Excuse me, Tom," said Jack. "But after what I've just seen I don't know whom to trust. Yes, I believe you're true blue, Tom. I'll tell you. But wait a minute." He walked to the door and looked out. The coast was clear. "Tom," said he, returning, "I'm going to take you into my confidence. Listen." In as few words as possible he related their adventures that day and the part played by Remedios. Then he added that in Mr. Rollins's companion he had recognized the Mexican chauffeur. "What do you make of it?" he asked. "Treachery," said Tom, emphatically. "But who'da thought it of Mr. Rollins?" They looked at each other puzzled. "I wish I knew whom he spoke to by radio and what he said," declared Jack. "Wish I'da listened," mourned Tom. Both stood silent. Suddenly the still night was shattered by a series of racketing explosions. Jack sprang for the door. "Remedios's flivver," he cried to his companion. "There isn't another car in the world can cough like that." By the time he had emerged from the radio station the car could be heard shooting away down the desert trail toward Ransome. "Too late," said Jack, disgustedly. "He's gone. I should have surprised them together." He thought a moment, then turned to the other. "Listen, Tom," said he. "Not a word about all this. I think I'll not let Rollins know that I suspect him, but will talk this over first with my friends. And if he comes here to radio again listen to him, and report to me what he says." "All right," said the big ex-cowboy. Then as a new idea occurred to him, he asked: "But how about tellin' my side pard, Dave? He's on duty days. He oughta know, too." "I don't know Dave as well as I do you," said Jack. "Certainly he ought to be informed, so that he can be on the watch, too. Can he be trusted?" "You can count on Dave," said Tom. "We been pardners for years. That bow-legged son o' Satan an' me been through lots o' ruckuses in our time. If there's any shootin' to be done, count us in. You know how I kin shoot." "I ought to know," said Jack. "You taught me." "Well, then, I'll let Dave in on the secret." "All right," said Jack, moving away toward the house. "Good night." He started for the ranch house, but again came back. "Rollins mustn't know I was down here," he said. "He won't know from me," Tom assured him. When Jack reached the house, he found Mr. Temple, Bob and Jack on the front porch in their night-clothes. Rollins was there and had introduced himself. All four were discussing the disappearance of the flivver. "You know how I sleep," said Bob. "But it made so much noise it waked even me." "Where have you been, Jack?" asked Frank. "Why, you haven't undressed. I thought you turned in when I did. But I was so sleepy I never noticed when I tumbled out of bed that you weren't there." Jack felt Mr. Rollins's eyes on him. It made him uncomfortable. "Oh, I couldn't sleep," he said. "So I came out for a turn in the night air before going to bed." "Where were you walking?" asked Mr. Rollins quickly. Jack found lying distasteful, but decided it would not do in this case to tell the whole truth. Fortunately, on leaving the radio station, he had swung about in a circle, so as to approach the house from an almost opposite direction. "Over there," said Jack, indicating the direction from which he had come. "There's a little rise some distance beyond there, but in this feeble moon-light you can't see much, so I came back. Then I heard the flivver." "Do you think that fellow Remedios came here himself and drove it off?" asked Frank. "He certainly had his nerve, if it was he," said Bob. Jack noticed that while Rollins was watching him keenly Mr. Temple, who had not taken part in the conversation, was studying Rollins. "Oh, it must have been Remedios," Jack said boldly. "Did anybody get close enough to see him? Who came out first? Did you notice, Mr. Rollins? You must have just arrived. I see you are still dressed." "Yes, I had put my horse up in the corral," said Rollins, calmly, "and was walking over here to the house, when I heard the car. I came around to see who was calling at this late hour, but all I could see was the disappearing car. Of course, I knew nothing of your day's adventures until your friends came out, when we introduced ourselves and explanations followed." CHAPTER XIII THE NET IS DRAWN TIGHTER That obvious lie on Rollins's part gave Jack the final assurance that the man was in the plot against them. Burning with indignation, he wanted to expose Rollins but with an effort of self-control he choked back the hot words and also managed to keep his anger from showing in his face. But it was an effort. Fortunately the others came to his rescue. Frank began to shiver in his pajamas and called attention to the fact that the night air was chill. "Yes," said Jack, glad of the change in subject, "no matter how warm the days out here, the nights are always cool. Let's go inside." All trooped into the living room, which was dining room, too. In the big fireplace they found a wood fire laid by the thoughtful Gabby Pete, ready to be touched off in the morning. The talkative camp cook slept in the bunkhouse some distance away, in the opposite direction from the radio plant. While the others dragged blankets from their beds and returned to the living room, wrapped up in them like Indians, Jack touched a match to the wood and the fire soon was blazing merrily. Rollins would have excused himself on the plea of fatigue after a long day's ride, but Mr. Temple halted him. "So long as we are here altogether," he said, "it won't hurt matters, and may help them, to have a little talk." From his chair in front of the fire, Mr. Temple looked up inquiringly at Rollins, who stood to one side of the fireplace, his face in the shadows. The latter did not speak. Jack thought quickly. Was it wise for Mr. Temple, unaware of Rollins's duplicity, to discuss matters with him? He decided not. He was bending down to throw more wood on the fire and without rising he interposed an objection. "Mr. Rollins must be pretty tired," he said, glad his face was averted because he feared the scorn in his eyes would betray him. "And we've all had a hard day. Suppose we let the discussion go until tomorrow." Rollins spoke precipitately, and Jack believed there was a little note of relief in his voice. "Yes," said he, "that would be better. I am pretty tired, as Jack says. Well, I'll turn in. Good night. I'll see you at breakfast and after that we can have our talk." Shaking hands with Mr. Temple and throwing curt nods to Bob and Frank, Rollins left the room. A moment later Jack arose and followed swiftly but silently to the door on the gallery. Peering around the doorpost cautiously, he assured himself Rollins had entered his own room, then returned. The others looked at him in surprise, unable to understand the meaning of his actions. Jack soon enlightened them. Crouched before the fire and with his eyes on the door for signs of interruption, while the others pulled their chairs close about him, Jack in a low voice outlined his experiences of the night. When he spoke of Rollins's using the radio, Frank uttered an exclamation. "That's how the enemy learned just what time we would arrive," he declared. Jack shook his head. "No," said he. "All Rollins had to do to spread that information was to tell Remedios. The latter could notify the men who laid for us." "Well, then, whom was he telephoning to?" Jack again arose and moved to the door and peered out. No signs of life. He returned and resuming his position said in a low voice: "That's what I've been asking myself. I've thought it over and I believe I've found the answer. Either he was radioing to the Calomares ranch in Old Mexico where father probably is held a prisoner, or else he was sending a message to the fellows who stole our airplane." Bob, the belligerent growled in his throat. "The big stiff," he muttered. "I'll go get him now and we'll choke it out of him." He half rose from his chair, but his father pushed him back. "Don't blame you, Bob," said Jack, grinning. "It's what I wanted to do myself. But I believe there is more to be gained by watching Rollins--at least until we have more to go on." "Probably," said Frank, "if we put it up to him now, he'd be able to lie out of it." "But he couldn't lie out of being seen with Remedios," said Bob. "Or of using the radio." "Frank is right, though," declared Jack. "Rollins would frame some alibi, and all we'd succeed in doing would be to put him on his guard." Mr. Temple had been thinking deeply. Now he interrupted. "Jack is probably correct in his surmise as to who Rollins was calling by radio," he said. "Probably this Calomares ranch is headquarters for the Mexican rebels who are making trouble for us. If it was the ranch that Rollins called, he may have been making his report on today's proceedings. But if he was calling the airplane, that is a more serious matter. It may mean trouble for us tonight, perhaps another attack." "Great guns," grumbled Bob, "don't these birds ever sleep? Well, believe me, if the Heinie that stole my airplane comes around where I can get my hands on him, I'll fix him." "You wouldn't hurt him, Bob, would you?" said Jack. "Huh." That was all Bob replied. It was enough. "I wouldn't do a thing to him, either," said Frank. "Except I'd turn his Kaiser mustaches down so hard they'd never point up again." Bob and Frank, joint owners of the airplane, grinned at each other. "Well, fellows," said Jack, "We have got to sleep. So I propose that we stand guard turn about tonight. It's pretty late now, midnight or thereabouts, so that if we stand two hour watches, the three of us, we'll pull through nicely without spoiling Mr. Temple's slumber." The older man protested he was as able to stand a watch as any of them, but the boys wouldn't have it so. Finally it was agreed that Jack should take the first watch of two hours, Bob would succeed him and Frank would have the last watch. The man keeping watch would sit inside his bedroom door opening on to the gallery, with Jack's revolver. As the bedrooms adjoined, while that of Rollins was the last in the house, it would be easy enough to guard both. The night passed, however, without incident. It had been agreed beforehand that after the expiration of Frank's watch at 6 o'clock there would be no necessity for keeping further watch. Gabby Pete would be up and busy at his early morning tasks, and the oil drillers housed in the bunkhouse also would be stirring about. Therefore, after barring the door, a precaution Bob also had taken in the room shared with his father, he turned in without awaking Jack. Worn out by their trip of the day before with its attack and the excitement of the night, all slept soundly, and Gabby Pete did not get them up. It was almost 10 o'clock when Jack awoke. He called the others, and soon all were dressed and ready for what the day would bring forth. Jack was the first dressed. He found Gabby Pete in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, and asked if they could have breakfast. "Sure thing," said Gabby Pete. "Have it fur you right away. Nice fresh aigs an' ham an' coffee. How's that?" "Fine. Have you seen Mr. Rollins this morning?" "Yeah. Give him breakfast early. He lef word he hadda go over to Number Two well where they're still drillin' an' hain't struck oil yet, but said as how he'd be back later today. He tuk them two drillers from the bunkhouse with him." "Did you know Remedios sneaked up last night and took his flivver again, right from under our noses?" Jack inquired. "No, that so?" Gabby Pete dropped his paring knife and potatoes in surprise. "Well, he did," said Jack, starting to leave. Gabby Pete jumped up, almost upsetting his pan in his haste, and called to Jack to wait. Wiping his wet hands on a big blue apron that looked incongruous on the old cowman, he pulled open a drawer in a kitchen table and took out a flat blue envelope which he handed to Jack. "Almost forgot this," he said. "Your tellin' me about that there scoundrel of a Greaser put everything else out o' my mind. Must be gittin old an' forgetful. One o' these days I'll forgit my head." He would have rambled on garrulously, but Jack interrupted. He turned the envelope over curiously. It bore no address or writing of any kind, and was sealed. "What's this for, Pete?" Jack inquired. "Oh, that's somethin' Mr. Rollins musta dropped out o' his pocket at breakfast. Found it on the floor beside his chair after he was gone. Will you give it to him?" "All right." Jack returned to join his companions. "Have we any right to open this?" he said, after explaining how he had obtained the envelope. "I for one believe that we should. It may contain valuable information to us." "You're right, Jack," said Mr. Temple. "I'm a partner in this oil enterprise, and if one of our trusted employees is a scoundrel we are entitled to know it. Give me the envelope. I'll take the responsibility." While the others looked on, Mr. Temple ran a knife along the edge and slit the envelope open. Inside was a mass of documents and a letter. Mr. Temple unfolded them, gave one look, then with an exclamation jumped to his feet. "Great Scott, boys," he cried. "This is important. Luck is certainly with us." CHAPTER XIV THE KEY TO THE MYSTERY "What is it?" cried Jack, pressing forward. "Yes, tell us," demanded Bob and Frank as in one breath. The three boys crowded around Mr. Temple, who in one hand held the mass of documents and in the other the letter. He was reading the latter. "Boys," said he, "this proves Rollins's complicity in a plot against us. But it makes matters more puzzling and complicated, too." "How is that, sir?" Jack inquired. "Well, first of all," said Mr. Temple, holding up the thick sheaf of papers, "this is Mr. Hampton's own original list of the leases secured by the group of independent oil operators to which I belong and which he represents here in the field." "Is it a copy of the list I recovered from the thief who stole it from Mr. Hampton's house on Long Island?" asked Bob. "No," smiled Mr. Temple. "It is the original. That was the copy. And this letter with it is one written by Rollins to a man in New York City who is one of the minor officials of the Oil Trust. It is too long to read to you. But from it I gather that Rollins is a spy in the employ of this official." "Say, Dad," declared Bob, "this is too much for me. If the Octopus is responsible for our troubles, then where do the Mexicans come in? And vice versa?" "That's what I had in mind, Bob, when I said this discovery complicated matters," said Mr. Temple. "Sh," warned Jack, from the window toward which he was glancing at that moment. He sprang forward to see better. "Here comes Mr. Rollins now. And in a tearing hurry, too." Rollins jumped from his horse and ran along the porch to his room. They heard the door slam, and then sounds of a furious searching being carried on. The boys and Mr. Temple, gathered around the door and window, looked at each other significantly. "Found he dropped his papers and came back for them," whispered Frank. A moment later Rollins called for Gabby Pete from the door of his room. The cook hurried to him from the kitchen. "Pete, did I drop an envelope--a long blue envelope--at breakfast?" asked Rollins, making no attempt to conceal his anxiety. Before Gabby Pete could reply, Jack stepped impulsively from the doorway. "Yes, you did," said he. "Pete gave it to me to keep for you." "Where is it?" Rollins brusquely demanded. "Step into my room," said Jack. Rollins complied. When he saw Mr. Temple, Bob and Frank, he recoiled as if to flee. But Jack barred the doorway. Rollins was speechless. Mr. Temple advanced, holding out the document and the letter. "Your duplicity is discovered, Rollins," he said. "I make no apology for having opened your sealed envelope, because last night Jack Hampton discovered you at the radio station with Remedios, and we knew you were faithless to your trust. Come, make a clean breast of it." Rollins's face went white. "You, you read the letter?" he gasped. Mr. Temple merely nodded. Rollins seemed to shrink and grow older before their eyes. Suddenly he sank into a chair. His shoulders sagged. Pressing his hands to his eyes, he bent forward and began to cry. Not the noisy crying of a child but great, dry, wrenching sobs. "Come on, fellows," said Jack in a low voice. "Let's leave him to Mr. Temple." The older man nodded approval and the three boys filed out, closing the door behind them. Simultaneously each drew a long breath of relief. Bob was the first to speak. "Dad'll get it out of him," he said "I'm hungry," said Frank plaintively. At that moment, Gabby Pete poked his head from the doorway of the kitchen. Seeing the boys, he called: "Come an' git it." The three started on the run for the dining room, their youthful spirits rebounding from the depressing scene in the room they had just quit in answer to the tang of a perfect day and the cook's breakfast call. Bob suddenly halted with an exclamation. "How about Dad?" "Oh, he's too busy to miss his breakfast," said Frank. "Anyhow, we can get the cook to put up something for him." "Yes, I'll speak to Pete about it," said Jack. "Come on." They ate hungrily with little conversation. Pete hovered near and his presence restrained them from talking about the topic that was uppermost in their minds. "How about taking a look at the radio plant?" asked Jack when they had ended breakfast. The others agreed eagerly. They were in the act of leaving the table when Mr. Temple appeared. They crowded about him with questions. "Easy, easy there," he protested. "I'm hungry as a hunter. Suppose you boys wait outside for me while I get a bite, and then I'll join you." When Mr. Temple emerged, he lighted a cigar and leaned against a pillar. The boys stood about him. For several moments he was silent, staring out over the expanse of desert to the hills beyond, all shimmering beneath the heat of the summer sun. "It's a long story," he began, "but I'll simplify it for you. Rollins held the key to the mystery. He has a family back East, an invalid wife, a son in college, a daughter just preparing to enter college. All that takes money, for doctor bills and school bills and clothes for the girl. Rollins was a poor man on a salary. "He needed money and couldn't see his way to getting it. Then a minor official of the Octopus put temptation in his way by making him a proposition. Mind you, he wasn't one of the big men of the Oil Trust. I feel certain they know nothing about all this. "This man proposed that Rollins obtain certain inside information about the independent oil operators and sell it to him. Rollins wanted to, but couldn't get the information. It was too closely guarded by Mr. Hampton. "It was then that another temptation came Rollins's way." Mr. Temple paused. "A weak man seems to carry certain earmarks that draw scoundrels to him, boys," he said. "It was so with Rollins. At this moment a representative of Calomares, the Mexican landowner who is backing the northern rebels, sought him out with a proposition that he betray his employers. The rebels, as I suspected, wanted to make trouble for President Obregon, of Mexico, by embroiling him with the United States. And the way they wanted to set about it was by raiding the independent oil operators. They needed a spy at our headquarters, and they proposed that Rollins should become their man. "Then Rollins had an inspiration. He told the Mexicans that if they would help him, he would aid them. It was agreed. The agent who had acted for Calomares in the negotiations was this German, Von Arnheim, an aviator and a German secret agent in Mexico during the war. He took the man Morales with him to Mr. Hampton's Long Island home to steal the duplicate list of independent leases and other data which Rollins had learned was kept there." "That's where I came in," grinned Bob. "Yes," said his father, "and it was because you foiled them that Rollins came into possession of Mr. Hampton's own original copy of the list and other data. For he stole it from Mr. Hampton's effects after Von Arnheim and Morales had carried him away captive in our airplane." "How about this attack on us yesterday?" asked Jack. "As you suspected, it was for the purpose of capturing me, too," said Mr. Temple. "And Rollins had let the bandits know when I would arrive. Remedios was his go-between." "Well," said Jack, "there's only one thing more." "What is that?" asked Frank. "Why, I'd like to know whom Rollins radioed to last night." "I found that out, too," said Mr. Temple. "He was talking to the Calomares ranch in Old Mexico, which has a very powerful station, according to Rollins. He says the German, Von Arnheim, told him that there are similar powerful radio stations scattered throughout Mexico and South America, all built by German money for the use of its spy system. And he said this German told him the most powerful station of all was on an island in the Caribbean, and that it was so powerful it could communicate with Nauen, Germany." It was apparent that Mr. Temple had concluded his explanation, and Bob and Frank began to ply him with questions. Jack, however, stood silent, his face averted. Mr. Temple presently broke from the others and laying a hand on Jack's shoulder whirled him about. "Father?" asked he, in a kindly tone. "Yes, sir." "Well, Jack, I've got the beginnings of a plan in mind. But first I must get more information from Rollins. Then I'll talk to you again." Jack looked him squarely in the face. "Mr. Temple," said he firmly, "I'm desperate. Father is everything in the world to me. I'll wait to talk with you. But I tell you frankly the only plan that appeals to me is to ride into Old Mexico and rescue him." The eyes of Bob and Frank, who had turned to listen, lighted up, and they nodded vigorous approval. Mr. Temple stood off and looked at the trio of husky fellows as if seeing them for the first time. "Perhaps," said he, "that is what you will soon be doing." CHAPTER XV TO THE RESCUE "I may be wrong," said Mr. Temple, thoughtfully, "in giving my sanction to this plan to rescue Mr. Hampton. But I do not believe so. And, all things considered, it seems the best if not the only way out. "I have been accustomed to regard you as mere boys, but the conduct of every one of you in our adventures lately shows me you are able to think and act for yourselves. Yet I don't know. Jack, you and Frank are motherless. But--if anything happened to Bob--his mother never would forgive me." "Say, Dad, forget it," grumbled the big fellow to hide his emotion. "I can take care of myself." His father's eyes lighted approvingly as they surveyed his truly heroic frame. "Yes, I guess you can," he said. "And you carry a cool head, too. At any rate, I've given my approval." He smiled whimsically, then looked from one to another of the three eager young fellows. "My daughter Delia was right," he said. "When I left home she said I was wrong to think of you any more as youngsters, and that the first thing I knew you would be making use of your wit and ingenuity to take care of me. And now her words in a measure are coming true." All four were grouped around the dining room table. For several hours plans for the rescue of Mr. Hampton had been discussed and rejected. Out of it had grown a plan which called for a daring invasion of the enemy's territory by the boys. Mr. Temple had impressed upon them the necessity for preventing the United States government from being involved in the situation. He had explained a number of angles not made clear before. Among other considerations, he said, was the fact that practically all the Central and South American republics were jealous of their big Yankee neighbor. "If our government were to make a hostile move toward Mexico," he declared, "the other Latin republics would misconstrue our motives. They would consider that because of our size we were acting the part of the bully in order to reap financial benefit. They call us the 'Dollar Republic,' you know. Our interests in Central and South America would suffer a severe setback." Accordingly, it was distinctly up to the boys and Mr. Temple to effect Mr. Hampton's rescue themselves. And out of the discussion had grown the plan to have Jack, Bob and Frank make their way to the Calomares ranch and offer their services to the rebel forces in the guise of young Americans who were seeking adventure. Once within the rebel stronghold they would bide their time and await an opportunity to free Mr. Hampton and escape with him. "I, for one, won't be content until I get back our airplane," said Frank, when the details were being discussed. "Probably we shall be able to recapture it, and then we can all four make our escape in it. The 'plane carries three easily and can be made to carry four at a pinch." "Hurray for you," cried Jack, delightedly. "That's a real idea." "I'll say so," declared Bob. "We can do it, too. I know we can." Carried away by the boys' enthusiasm, Mr. Temple nodded approval. Jack said he was certain enlistment in the rebel forces would offer no difficulties. From Tom Bodine, the guard at the radio plant, with whom he had had many conversations during the past two months about conditions on the border, he had learned that adventurous young Americans fought frequently on one side or another in the Mexican revolutions. "I can speak Spanish pretty well, too," Jack pointed out. "And Bob and Frank have a smattering of the language, which they picked up from me." It was true. Two years before Jack had spent his summer vacation in Peru where his father was engaged at the time in inspecting mining properties. Jack had learned considerable Spanish during his stay and on his return home had continued his studies of the language. Moreover, he had aroused the interest of his chums to such an extent that they also had begun to study Spanish. Often, when by themselves, the three boys spoke to each other in the language. Spanish, by the way, is the easiest of all foreign tongues to learn, as, unlike French and Italian, all letters are sounded, and the grammar is very simple. Mr. Temple was not to accompany the boys because, in the first place, his age and distinguished appearance would arouse suspicion. Young fellows riding in to enlist in the rebel forces was something that could be understood. But in his case it would be a different matter. He would stay at the ranch with Rollins, whom he decided to give another chance. Rollins knew the business details of the oil operations and unless he were retained the work could not go on. For that reason, and also because he believed Rollins was truly repentant for his treachery and would be faithful in the future, Mr. Temple retained him. Rollins had supplied valuable information for the expedition. He gave the exact location of the Calomares ranch, in a valley amid low mountains more than one hundred miles to the south. There were two possibilities that the boys might be recognized for what they were: if Remedios should arrive at rebel headquarters, or if Von Arnheim or Morales recognized Bob as the youth who had foiled them on Long Island. Neither was very likely. Remedios, they learned from Rollins, had no intention of leaving the district because even if the boys tried to cause his arrest he had a mysterious political pull with the American officials, practically all of whom were of Mexican descent. As for Morales and Von Arnheim they had had only a fleeting glimpse of Bob and he could disguise his appearance sufficiently to make that of no account. "Well, boys," said Mr. Temple finally, "if we all were back in New York under normal conditions I should consider this just about the craziest notion ever, and never would consent to your carrying it out. But out here, amid these changed surroundings, it seems the natural thing to do. For the life of me I can't bring myself to feel any alarm." "That's right, Dad," said Bob. "Don't you worry. We'll be all right." It was now late afternoon. Tom Bodine was to escort the boys to the border as soon as darkness fell, making a big swing around Ransome, so as to avoid notice, and set them on their way. They would travel by horseback, all three having ridden since childhood. There were a number of good mounts in the corral from which to select. The boys planned to ride the major portion of the night until they should reach a cave in the first of the Mexican foothills, where they would spend the next day in hiding. Tom Bodine knew the cave of old and was able to give the boys the location of certain landmarks which would make it easy for them to find it. The following night they would continue their journey, and this should bring them to the Calomares ranch on the morning of the second day. "Time to get ready," said Mr. Temple, looking at his watch. "And, remember, the very first thing you must try to do is to get into their radio station and call me. Day or night, the men here will be watching for your signal and will call me. I'll be mighty anxious about you. So remember." "We shall call you, sir," said Jack, as the boys moved away. "And don't worry. I'm sure we'll come out all right." CHAPTER XVI A SOUND IN THE SKY "Good-bye, Tom." "S'long, Jack." "Keep a watch for our signal. We'll call you." "I will that. An' if it's in trouble you are, Dave an' me'll be ridin' just as fast as we can to help you. Wish you'd let me go 'long. I'm half minded to follow you." "No, no. We'll stand our best chance alone. They won't suspect we're other than a bunch of wild young fellows out for adventure." Tom grumbled, but the force of the reasoning was apparent to him. They leaned from their horses for a last firm handclasp, then Jack rode on to join Bob and Frank who sat on their horses some distance ahead. "You're the boy to give it to 'em, Jack," called the big ex-cowboy in a last farewell. "Give 'em thunder." Jack waved a parting salute as he joined his comrades. Frank and Bob did likewise. Then with night settling down over the vast desert waste they rode on into old Mexico. Beside the white stone marking the international boundary, Tom Bodine sat his horse like a statue. Moodily he watched until they were out of sight. It was a hard life Tom had led in his day and when he took the job at the radio plant it was with a sigh of relief at the ease ahead of him. But now despite his fifty years, the last thirty of which had been filled with hard knocks, he felt the old call to adventure urging him on. With drooping head, he turned his horse toward home. But hardly had the animal started forward, than he dragged it about again. "Let's go," he shouted to the empty silence, and whirling his sombrero aloft, brought it down on his horse's flank. Then he rode on after the three figures that had been swallowed up in the darkness. Far ahead of him, for Tom had taken considerable time to reach his decision, rode the three companions. The young moon shed only a wan and wraithlike radiance over the plain. They were alone, and the parting with their last friend, combined with the solitude of the open spaces, had its effect upon them. They rode awhile in subdued silence. But not for long. Frank's lively spirits were the first to rebound. "Race you to that rock," he cried, pointing to a solitary outcropping of rock, about twice a man's height, about a quarter of a mile ahead. "You're on," cried Jack, spurring his horse. "Attaboy," yelled Bob, doing likewise. With a shout that shattered the silence as if a band of wild Indians were hitting the trail, the three boys dashed away. Presently they pulled up by the rock, practically neck and neck. Their eyes were alight now with the zest of adventure. "Gee, it's great to be alive," cried Frank. "You said it," declared Bob. Jack nodded laughingly, but the next moment his face became grave. "Just the same," he said, "we mustn't do that again." "Why not?" demanded Bob. "Well, for one thing, we must save our horses as much as possible. We already have come twenty miles, and we have thirty miles more to go before reaching Tom's cave." "For one thing?" questioned Bob. "What's your other reason?" "Just that we don't want to draw attention to ourselves." "You're right, Jack," said Frank. "I'll not start anything again." They jogged on. A martial trio they made. Jack was clothed in the khaki shirt, riding breeches, high laced leather boots and sombrero in which he had met the boys on their arrival at Ransome. Bob and Frank were similarly outfitted. Tom Bodine was about of Bob's proportions, and his partner Dave Morningstar had the build of the slighter Frank. These two old cow punchers had given the boys the run of their wardrobes. Each lad carried an automatic at his hip swinging from a well-filled cartridge belt. In addition, Jack bore his repeating rifle in a leather scabbard on his saddle. Frank cast an appraising eye over himself and his comrades, and grinned with approval. Despite Jack's rebuke, he could not long keep silence. "Well, here we go, fellows," he said cheerfully, "just like the Three Musketeers. Jack with your air of melancholy you can be Athos. Bob is big enough to be Porthos, although I have got his appetite. I'm Aramis." "Aramis was always dreaming about the ladies," said Bob slily. "Heard from Della lately?" Frank was silent a moment under the sly dig, his thoughts flying back to the faraway Long Island home. But his irrepressible spirits would not permit him to remain silent for long, and soon he burst forth again. "All we need to make it complete," he said, "is D'Artagnan. I wonder if we'll find him." Jack made no answer. His thoughts were busy turning over plans for the rescue of his father. Bob, too, was unusually silent, thinking of the parting from his own father and the latter's anxiety which almost had prevented his making this venture. Frank pursed his lips to whistle, thought better of it, and jogged along as silent as his companions. So they rode hour after hour, only the creak of leather, the occasional stumble of a horse or the distant call of a coyote breaking the stillness. At length a low range of foothills, upflung before them, began to take shape out of the darkness with their near approach. Presently Jack called a halt. "Somewhere in there," said he, "lies Tom's cave." It was in the early hours before dawn, when the darkness if anything becomes more intense. A chill nipping wind long since had caused the boys to unroll the rubber ponchos strapped to the back of their saddles, and drape them over their shoulders. As they stood now in the eerie darkness, striving vainly to locate the landmarks of tree and rock which Tom had given them, the howl of a hunting coyote floated down the wind. The sensitive Frank shivered. "That sends the gooseflesh up my spine," he said. "Are you scared?" asked Bob. "I'm scared stiff," averred Frank. "My hair is standing up so straight I wonder how my sombrero stays on." "Me, too," said Bob. "Liar," said Frank. "You're another," said Bob. "You're not scared. I know you too well." They grinned affectionately at each other. Jack who meantime had been investigating, turned with a worried expression. "I've followed Tom's directions faithfully," he said. "He said to lay our course south by south-west and showed me what he meant on my compass. I haven't deviated a hair's breadth. Somewhere about here should be the first landmark--three rocks shaped like a camel lying down. But I can't see them." "Nothing to worry about in that," said Frank. "Probably we haven't gone far enough. Let's push on." "That must be it," said Jack with relief. "Well, come on." Before they could get into motion, however, Bob uttered a warning whisper. "Listen," he said. "I heard a horse stumble behind us on the trail." They listened breathlessly a moment, but no further sound was heard. "Keep your guns handy," whispered Jack. Whenever the three were together he took command. "Don't fire without cause, however," he whispered. "If there is someone behind us, it may be another traveller." Again came the sound of a horse stumbling. All heard it distinctly. Jack peered into the darkness and called firmly: "Who are you?" "Challenge him in Spanish, why don't you?" muttered Frank. Before Jack could repeat his challenge, however, a familiar voice replied: "That you, Jack? This is Tom." "Tom? Tom Bodine?" "The same," replied the ex-cowboy, materializing out of the darkness, and approaching. "And glad I am," he added, "to find you." "But, good gracious, Tom, is anything the matter? Why are you here? I thought we left you heading back for home five hours ago?" "No, you just left me," said Tom. "That's all. I didn't head home, because I wanted to come along. Been a-trailin' you all the way. And here I am." Jack was surprised, indeed. But now that Tom was with them, he experienced a sense of relief. To venture into a strange land without a guide, and in pitch darkness, besides, was a pretty stiff undertaking. The responsibility of looking after his friends was no light one. "To tell the truth, Tom," Jack said, "I'm glad you came." Bob and Frank echoed his words heartily. "I had just about decided when you came up," Jack added, "that I had lost my way. Frank thought, however, we merely hadn't gone far enough to find your landmarks." "He was right," said Tom. "You come straight as a die. All we got to do is to ride on a piece an' we'll be in the snuggest cave ever you see." Riding two abreast, Tom and Jack in the lead and Frank and Bob close behind, they pressed on another twenty minutes when Tom called a halt to indicate a clump of rocks close at hand which suggested in their outline a crouching camel. Then he led the way toward the left. "Wait, wait," called Bob, in a tense voice that reached the ears of all, and caused them to halt. "Keep your horses quiet and listen. There. I was right." All sat silent, and distinctly there came to their ears the hum of an approaching airplane. CHAPTER XVII INSIDE THE CAVE "What is it?" whispered Tom Bodine, to whom the sound was unfamiliar. "Sounds like machinery of some kind." "It's an airplane," Jack answered. "Airplane? _An_ airplane?" said Bob, low voiced. "It's better than that. It's our airplane, if I know anything." "Righto, Bob," agreed Frank. "I'd know the old baby's voice a mile off." "They've shut off the motor," said Jack. "They must be going to land. But where in the world could they land in these hills and in this darkness, too?" Tom Bodine slapped his knee. "That's it," he said emphatically. "That must be it." "What?" asked Jack. "Why, there's a big level place just below the cave I was tellin' you 'bout. A plateau. Smooth as a floor." The hum of the airplane had died away. The boys and their guide never had caught sight of the machine in the darkness. Suddenly Frank pointed in the direction whence the sound of the airplane had come, ahead and slightly to the left. "I thought I saw a light there," he whispered. "It was just a faint streak of orange. Now it's gone." "Look here," said Bob to Tom Bodine, "does that cave face this way or is it on the other side of a hill?" "It's on t'other side," answered Tom, "an' near the top." "Well, I'll bet you there's somebody in that cave. And the light that Frank saw was some kind of a signal to the airplane." The big ex-cowboy scratched his head. "Mebbe you're right," he said doubtfully. "I don't know 'bout such things. But who'da thought that cave would be discovered. Why, I just come on it accidental like onct when I was wanderin' through these hills." "Boys, there's only one thing to do," said Jack in a determined voice, "and that's to investigate." "Righto, Jack," said Frank eagerly. "Here's our chance to get back our airplane." "You said it," declared Bob. "Let's go." "Not so fast," said Jack. "First we must have a plan of campaign. Tom, what's the lay of the land? How far away is the cave? Would it be better to leave our horses here and approach on foot?" "Cave's not more'n half a mile from here," answered Tom. "It's just around the shoulder o' this hill we're on right now and near the top. I tole you 'bout that big rock in front o' the entrance an' them three lonesome trees at the foot that give you a bee-line to the rock. Well, we can git to them trees without bein' noticed an' tie our horses there an' then sneak up afoot." "Is there only the one entrance to the cave?" "Only one," answered Tom. "There's a kind o' chimney up through the rock to the top o' the hill. But nobody couldn't git out there in much of a hurry. We won't have to worry 'bout that." Frank had an idea. "How far would those fellows in the airplane have to go to reach the cave after landing?" "Oh, le's see. 'Bout as fur as us, I reckon." "Maybe we can cut them off before they enter the cave," said Frank. "They'll be busy about the airplane for several minutes before they start to make their way to the cave. How would they have to approach the cave?" "Same way as us from the trees on," said Tom. "Well, if we hurry," Frank declared excitedly, "maybe we can capture them before they reach the cave." "Right you are, young feller," approved Tom. "But we'll have to leave our horses behind or they might give us away. We can't tie 'em to those trees like we planned." "We can't hobble them," said Jack, thinking quickly, "because they would wander aside a little distance, anyway. And we may want them again in a hurry." "Tell you what," said Tom, "seems like I remember a clump o' trees just this side o' them three I spoke about. We can tie 'em there. An' them fellers in the machine won't have no horses, so ours ain't likely to nicker." "Good," said Jack. "You lead the way and we'll follow." Presently at a low-spoken word from the guide the boys dismounted and tied up their horses. Then, Jack carrying his rifle, and the others following close at his heels, revolvers in hand, they pressed on toward the three trees forming Tom Bodine's landmark. As they reached the trees, low exclamations burst from the boys. Hitherto, they had been cut off from the plateau by the shoulder of the hill. Now it lay below and before them. This of itself would not have permitted them to see, as the darkness was intense. But now the scene was illuminated by a number of oil flares stuck upright in the ground in a rude circle. And right in the middle of the circle was the airplane stolen from Bob and Frank. There could be no mistaking the all-metal body nor the peculiar wing spread, even at that distance of close to half a mile. Several figures were moving about. As the boys looked on, these seized oil flares and started moving toward them. "Here's where our turn comes at last," said Frank. Jack laid a hand on his arm. "Better than that, Frank," he said. "How many do you make out?" "Three is my guess." "The two men in the airplane and the man in charge of the cave," said Jack. "Dollars to doughnuts, the cave is undefended right this minute. What do you say to capturing it and laying for them there?" All four were grouped together, and consequently all heard Jack's proposal. Bob and Tom Bodine agreed eagerly. "Lead the way, then, Tom," said Jack, "because you know the route. And be quick." Swiftly, yet withal cautiously, because the cave might be defended, they approached the big rock. As they sidled around it, a gleam of light from the mouth of the cave at the rear of the rock fell athwart their path. Involuntarily they drew back. Then Jack brushed Tom Bodine aside and took the lead. His repeater thrust before him, crouching, he entered the mouth of the cave. A moment later his whisper came back: "Coast's clear." But the others already were at his heels. A hasty glance around revealed the first of the two chambers, which Tom had said the cave possessed, was luxuriously furnished and lighted by a powerful electric bulb enclosed in a huge frosted globe suspended from the middle of the roof. There was no time for further investigation because Jack already was pushing on toward the heavy hangings at the rear covering the mouth of the second chamber, and the others clung to his heels. Parting the hangings quickly, Jack threw his rifle to his shoulder. Then he and his companions received their second big surprise. The room was empty of human occupants. But it, too, was brilliantly lighted. And it was a radio broadcasting station. To the trained eyes of the boys that much was apparent at first glance. In one corner of the tremendous cave hummed the dynamo. From it, of course, came also the electricity for the lights. Before they could pursue their investigations, however, Tom Bodine, who had dropped back to the outer entrance, issued a warning hiss. Then he darted across the outer room and joined them. "Three of 'em," he whispered. "They'll be here in a minute." "Good," said Jack, taking command. "We'll give them a surprise. These hangings are fastened to rings on a big pole up above us there, and they'll slide easily. Tom, you and Bob grab the hangings in the middle and be ready to pull them aside when I say the word. Frank, you and I will stand here in the middle and keep them covered." All took their assigned positions as the sound of voices was heard at the outer entrance. Jack peered between the two folds of the hangings and smiled with satisfaction. "Let's go," he said. The hangings flew aside. CHAPTER XVIII THE FIGHT IN THE CAVE "Hands up, gentlemen," ordered Jack, rifle to shoulder. "And be quick about it," added Frank, revolver extended. Tom and Bob, the hangings disposed of, ranged themselves on either side of the pair. Four weapons covered the group in the outer room. The three men, who had advanced well to the center of the room, stared dumbfounded at these apparitions. Then amazement gave place to anger, and one of the trio made a move as if to draw his revolver. "None of that," commanded Jack, sternly. "Up with them quick or I'll shoot." Three pairs of hands were unwillingly elevated. Two of the men wore sheepskin jackets and leather helmets and the boys surmised correctly that they had been up in the airplane. Bob felt certain they were Morales and Von Arnheim, the two who had made the trip to the East to steal Mr. Hampton's papers and whom he had foiled in that purpose, but who had succeeded in stealing the airplane and making their way to Mexico in it. The other was a rangy man of about twenty-six, keen and shrewd-looking, and had the appearance of an American. Evidently he was the guardian of the cave. And it was he who had moved to draw his weapon when surprised. A tough customer and one to be watched, thought the boys. "Face about," ordered Jack. They obeyed. "Keep them covered, Tom," Jack then commanded. "Well search them." With weapons held ready, the three boys advanced. At that moment, the caretaker of the cave took one step forward and instantly the lights in both rooms faded out and the cave was in inky darkness. He had pressed a button in the floor, switching off the lights. The boys were so taken by surprise that for a moment they did not fire. Neither did Tom, for fear of hitting them as they were in front of him. This gave their three enemies an opportunity to shift position and fling themselves prone. When after their surprise, the boys did fire, their bullets merely pinged against the distant wall and did no damage. But the flash of their weapons betrayed their positions and answering bullets came uncomfortably close. One swept Jack's hat from his head. From behind them Tom Bodine's revolver spoke, as the enemy thus betrayed themselves. The soft thud of a bullet striking flesh, a groan, choked off in the middle, a hasty scrambling to get away from the danger point on the part of the man struck, then silence. This silence was so profound the boys seemed to hear the beating of their own hearts, and tried to hold their breath for fear of betrayal. They had thrown themselves prone after the first volley and lay so close they were touching, Jack in the middle. Each side was fearful now of firing at the other, lest the flashes give their position and an answering bullet find its mark. Jack thought quickly. Putting his lips to the ear of each of his companions in turn, he whispered: "Wait till I get Tom and come back. Then we'll make our way to the entrance." Each signified by the pressure of a hand that he understood. Certainly it would not do to have the enemy escape and thus cut them off in the cave! Slowly, carefully, noiselessly, Jack wormed his way to the rear and when he considered he must be in Tom Bodine's neighborhood he began whispering in a tone that could not be heard more than three feet away: "Tom. Tom. Tom." A hand gripped his leg. A voice whispered so low it was barely audible to him: "That you, Jack?" "Yes. Listen." Running a hand over Tom Bodine's body, Jack found his ear and, as he had done with Bob and Frank, set his lips to it. He explained his purpose to gain the entrance to the cave and prevent being bottled up. Tom nodded approval, and Jack was about to return to his companions when he suddenly thought of the radio room beyond, and its possibilities. It would never do to leave that unguarded. Their enemies could telephone the Calomares ranch. Then, even if the boys escaped, their identities would have become known at rebel headquarters. Their chances of rescuing Mr. Hampton would go glimmering. Once more Jack set his lips to Tom's ear and explained the situation. "That's right," whispered Tom in return. "Tell you what. I'll guard this here inner room from behind the rocks in this doorway. You three stop up the outer entrance, an' well have 'em bottled." Jack made his way back to his comrades, and the three started crawling. They moved inch by inch, so as to avoid bumping into furniture--a number of heavy chairs had been seen standing about the great room. Jack was in the lead, Frank at his heels, Bob bringing up the rear. Cautiously, tortuously, they made their way ahead for what seemed like ages, pausing frequently to listen. After one such pause, as he again started to follow Frank, Bob felt a form brush against him from the side. Then an arm shot out and encircled his neck. Bob wriggled about to face his opponent and threw both arms about him in a mighty clasp. As they fell to the floor, Bob heard a strangled cry from Frank and a grunt from Jack. They, too, had come to grips with the enemy. Their three opponents had started for the door with the same purpose held by the boys--that of bottling up the other side. The two crawling trios had brushed against each other in the middle of the floor. Now three individual fights raged furiously on the floor of the cave in Stygian darkness. Every man fought for his very life. The sob of labored breathing was the only sound--that and the threshing about of bodies. Tom Bodine was sick with rage at his helplessness, for he dared not shoot lest he hit one of the boys, and he could not see to take a hand. He decided to try to find that button in the middle of the floor of the outer cave which the enemy had used to throw off the lights. If not that, perhaps there was a wall switch somewhere. In his pockets was a box of safety matches. With these in his hands he started for what he thought was the middle of the room. Recklessly Tom struck and lighted matches, searching the floor for that button, stopping after each match burned down to his fingers to listen to the panting, heaving struggle going on about him. At last he found the button and pressed it. Light once more flooded both caves, dazzling to the eye after the pitch darkness of the moment before. Jack and Frank were still tightly locked with their respective foemen. But at the very moment the lights were switched on, Bob got the upper hand of his man with a famous hold he had used to advantage in winning his wrestling fame at school. There was a heave, and then Bob straightened up and the other went hurtling through the air. He was the American of the enemy trio. The man fell on his left side, a yard or more away, by a quick twist avoiding the descent on his head, which is the usual result of such a wrestling toss. His right arm was outflung and, as he skidded along the floor, the fingers of his right hand came in contact with a revolver dropped by one of the wrestlers. Twisting about like a cat, with a convulsive movement, the man came to his knees and fired. There was a warning shout to Bob from Tom Bodine. But the man's aim was far from steady, and the shot went wide. Bob leaped forward as if shot from a catapult, letting out a wild yell as he did so. It was a tremendous leap from a standing position, and he descended feet first on the other before he could discharge the revolver again. Beneath the impact of Bob's weight the man went down like a shot rabbit and lay still. Bob disarmed him, turned him on his face, pulled his arms behind him and began tying them with his belt. Meantime Jack was getting the better of his man, the Mexican. But Frank, slightest of the three boys, was putting up a losing fight against the German. The latter had him down and was kneeling on his chest with his hands throttling the boy. Frank's face was purple and the breath was whistling in his throat, while his efforts to throw the other off were becoming more and more feeble. Tom Bodine took in the situation and sprang forward, clubbing his revolver. He brought it down on the German's head. There was a sickening thud. One blow was enough. The German's hands relaxed their grip on Frank's throat, and he rolled over unconscious. At the same moment Jack pinioned the arms of the Mexican, and the latter lay helpless. The fight was over. CHAPTER XIX RESTING UP Swiftly Tom Bodine trussed up the unconscious German with the man's own belt, while Jack similarly treated the thoroughly cowed Mexican, Morales. Meanwhile, Bob went to Frank's aid, assisting him to a chair, bringing him water from a spring in a corner of the inner cave and fanning him with his sombrero. None of the three boys had suffered more serious injuries than bruises, but Frank had been badly battered in the encounter with his heavier opponent and the muscles of his left shoulder had been severely strained. Despite the mauling he had received, Frank wanted to go and inspect his beloved airplane at once and Bob, the co-owner with him, was equally eager. Jack, however, protested. "No, sir," said he firmly, "you are in no condition to go chasing off down this rocky slope. The airplane isn't going to fly away. It's in a pocket in the hills that nobody is going to discover. And, anyhow, there is nobody around in this desert place to do any discovering. "Moreover," he continued, "it is almost morning now. We all have been riding all night and with this fight coming on top of everything else, we are thoroughly tired out. So, instead of any more conversation tonight, I propose that we turn in and go to sleep, leaving one man on guard. At the end of two hours he can call another fellow, and in that way we can all get four or five hours sleep. I'll take the first watch and--" At that moment a groan from one of the prisoners on the other side of the room interrupted, and with an exclamation Bob started forward. "Good gracious," he said, "I'd forgotten all about that chap. His arm felt wet and sticky when we were wrestling and I believe he's the man Tom wounded with that first shot in the darkness." Bending over his late opponent, Bob noted a dark brown stain on the left shoulder of his coat. "Only a flesh wound, I reckon," said the other. "But it sure hurts. Are you going to leave me like this?" Bob flushed. "Of course not," he said. "What do you think I am? Here, let me help you up and we'll have a look at it." Bob assisted the other to a chair. His hands were then untied, the coat sleeve cut away and an examination made of his injury. It proved not serious. The man told Bob where to find a bottle of iodine. He winced under the sting of its application, but made no outcry. Then a rough bandage was made of clean handkerchiefs, and the boys stood back to examine their handiwork, for all had taken part in the operation. "You're some fighter, kid," the other said approvingly to Bob. "But I reckon I'da got you at that if it hadn't been for that arm." "Maybe so," Bob modestly agreed. "You put up a stiff fight." "You're an American, aren't you?" asked Frank. "What's your name? And how do you happen to be with these fellows?" "Why not?" said the other, answering the last question first. "I'm a rolling stone and joined up with this outfit because it looked like something doing. And that's what I want. As for my name, it's Roy Stone. And you guessed right. I am an American. Born an' raised in Wooster, out in Ohio." He paused and looked curiously from one to the other of the boys. Tom Bodine was examining the two other prisoners for possible injuries needing attention. Stone nodded toward him. "I can place a fellow like that, all right," he said. "Know this kind down here on the border. But who are you? You're only kids. What's your game? Are you with Obregon?" "No, indeed," said Bob. Turning to Jack, he whispered: "Is it safe to tell him who we are? He's an American. And, somehow, I have an idea he might help us." "Well, it won't hurt, I guess," said Jack, doubtfully. "He might escape and betray us to rebel headquarters, but I suspect we can guard against that. Besides, he's bound to find out our identities, because those other two chaps will recognize you." "Hardly in this rig," said Bob, referring to his clothing. "We talked all that over, you remember." "That's right. I had forgotten." Bob and Jack had drawn aside during the whispered colloquy. Now Bob turned back to his prisoner. "Look here," he said. "We'll have a little talk later. Right now we all need a good sleep." Without more ado, Bob and Frank tied Stone's hands and led him to his bed, behind a curtain in one corner of the outer room. They considered that inasmuch as he was wounded, he was entitled to the bed. The German had recovered consciousness from the blow on the head dealt him by Tom, and the latter already had ranged him and the Mexican along the wall where the sentinel could keep an eye on them. For themselves, the boys pulled a heavy rug to another portion of the wall, spread the heavy hangings formerly covering the door to the inner cave on top, and here Bob and Frank lay down with their ponchos over them. Presently they were joined by Jack who had planned to mount guard the first two hours, but who had been overruled by Tom Bodine. "No, you don't," said the latter. "I'm a tougher bird than you, and I take this job myself, an' that goes." Too tired to protest very vehemently, Jack turned in after exacting a promise that Tom would call him at the end of two hours. The old cowman, however, had no such intention. It was not until eight hours later that he summoned Jack. The lights in the cave still burned brightly, for Tom had refrained from switching them off for the obvious reason that they made it easy to keep an eye on the prisoners. Day-light, however, showed at the mouth of the cave. When Jack noted the time, he began to scold. "Forgit it," said Tom Bodine, gruffly. "You boys needed a good sleep while I'm an old hand at ridin' night herd. It didn't bother me none to stay up." Without further words, he turned in and was asleep almost on the instant. Jack roused Bob and Frank, and while Bob mounted guard at the mouth of the cave where he could keep watch both on their prisoners and on the approach from below, the two others explored a rude pantry behind a curtain. They found a plentiful stock of provisions, which made it unnecessary for them to draw upon their own limited food supplies for breakfast. When they themselves had eaten, they released the captives one at a time and fed them, afterwards replacing their bonds. The Mexican and the German were surly and uncommunicative. The latter tried to ply them with questions, but when they refused to answer he adopted a bullying tone and threatened them with all sorts of dire punishment. His threats, however, were no more effective at breaking down their silence than were his questions. Bob remained at the doorway to avoid the risk of recognition by Morales and Von Arnheim as the youth who had foiled their attempt to steal Mr. Hampton's papers from his Long Island home. Jack, who had no means of knowing how much the traitor, Rollins, might have told Von Arnheim in the past about Mr. Hampton's personal affairs, watched keenly for some indication on the German's part that he had formed an idea as to their identity, but none was forthcoming. Jack was correspondingly elated. "I suppose," he said to Frank, after Morales and Von Arnheim had been fed and returned to the other side of the cave, "that Rollins never bothered to speak about us because we were just boys. Then, too, you fellows arrived only the very day that we discovered Rollins's treachery and put a stop to his communications with these people." "That may all be true," said Frank. "Probably it is. Just the same, Von Arnheim and Morales are bound to put two and two together and make a shrewd guess as to our identities, even if they say nothing to us about the matter. "But," he added, confidently, "what if they do? We have them prisoners now and if we keep them well guarded until we have rescued your father, what does it matter how much they know?" Jack nodded agreement. "We'll have to keep mighty strict watch, though," he said. "Well, now let's feed this American, Stone. I'll draw straws with you to see who keeps guard while Bob comes to get his breakfast at the same time. He wants to talk to Stone, he said." CHAPTER XX CONFERRING BY RADIO Bob, however, told his companions he had decided not to interview Stone for the time being, and explained his reason, as well as what he hoped to gain from conversation with the prisoner. "I believe," he declared, "that Stone is a warm-hearted, adventurous young fellow with no particular love for the Mexican rebels, but merely serving under their banner for the excitement. And I believe if we approach him right we can win his help in rescuing Mr. Hampton. He must know a good deal about this Calomares ranch and if we can get him to give us some pointers it will be worth while. "That was what I had in mind last night. But mounting guard here this morning I had time to think it over, and I decided we had better go slow and, if possible, get the advice of my father on the matter." "But how could you do that?" asked Frank. "Go back to Hampton ranch again?" Jack interrupted excitedly. "No, Frank, don't you see!" he said. "Bob is thinking of the radio here in the cave. Aren't you, Bob? I'm a simpleton not to have thought of it before." "Well," said Bob, "we've all been so excited, that's not to be wondered at. But while I mounted guard here during your breakfast, I had a chance to calm down and do some thinking." Bob was eager to use the radio telephone at once, but Jack persuaded him to eat breakfast first. The big fellow literally bolted his bacon, bread and coffee, and then accompanied by Jack, while Frank mounted guard, he retired to the inner room where the radio outfit was located. "Let's have a look around here before we try to telephone," said Jack. "It will take us only a few minutes. And we ought to know what we have captured. What say?" "Fair enough," Bob agreed. A cursory inspection quickly convinced Jack that the station was not of recent installation, but had been put in about the year 1918. Much of the equipment, while of the best at the time it was put in, had been antiquated since by improved parts. It was a complete two-way installation, however, comprising a generator of practically sustained waves, a good control system to modulate the output, and a ground system for radiating a portion of the modulated energy as well as a receiver and a good amplifier. "Here is this chimney in the rock about which Tom spoke," Jack pointed out. "They have hooked up through this. And the antenna, I suppose, is on top of the rock above us. "This arc," he continued, advancing to the coils, "looks pretty strong and seems to have a rather elaborate water-cooling system. I think it is of foreign design, probably German. The Germans were early in the field with radio telephony development, you know." "All right," said Bob, who was beginning to grow impatient, "I'll take your word for it. But what I want to know is, can we telephone my father at your ranch?" "Say, Bob, I'm sorry," Jack said quickly. "You know how crazy Dad and I are over this radio telephone. But, of course, you are anxious to get your father. Come on, let's try. I'll throw on the generator." Suiting action to words, Jack shortly had the generator at work, while Bob began calling through the air for his father. "Be careful to use our code," Jack warned him. "You know Rollins said these fellows had a powerful radio station at the Calomares ranch, and if they were to pick up your call and listen in there'd be trouble." "Right," said Bob. "But if Dave answers the signal, I'll have to ask for father, because Dave doesn't understand the code." It was Dave Morningstar who answered, the other ex-cowboy employed as mechanic and guard at Mr. Hampton's radio plant in New Mexico. And when he had tuned to the proper pitch to hear distinctly and Bob's voice greeted him he was so surprised he stuttered and was incapable for a moment of coherent speech. Then he began to pour a flood of questions at Bob, wanting to know where he was, how he happened to be able to radio, what had happened to the boys, why Tom Bodine, his partner, had failed to return, and so on. But Bob cut him short. "Stop it, Dave," he said. "We may be overheard. Call father to the telephone, so I can speak in code. Then I'll explain." Fortunately, although it was past noon, Mr. Temple was at hand. So anxious was he about the boys that he had been unable to sleep during the night. All morning, despite the belief that it was folly to expect to hear from the lads so early, he had stayed at the radio plant. Now, when he heard his son's voice, there was heartfelt thanksgiving in his reply. "Is it really you, Bob?" he asked, speaking in code. "I must have been insane to let you three lads go off on such a foolish venture. I have been tortured with anxiety every minute since you left. Tell me where you are and what has happened. And how in the world is it possible for you to radio? Are you all right?" "Yes, we're all right, Dad," answered Bob, and there was a good deal of emotion in his voice, too. The big fellow and his father were real pals. "Don't you worry, Dad," he added. "We're doing well, thank you." Then he retailed their adventures from the time of crossing the border into Old Mexico and leaving Tom Bodine at the boundary. There were many interruptions from his father. "Thank heaven," said the latter, when learning that Tom Bodine had followed the boys and joined them. "He's a trustworthy chap, and to know that he is with you makes me breathe more easily." When he came to relate the fight in the cave, Bob diplomatically made little of it. He felt there was nothing to be gained by unnecessarily harrowing the feelings of his father. The latter's anxiety, however, was great and he pumped rapid questions at his son which Bob could not avoid answering. The result was that Mr. Temple gained a fairly accurate idea of the peril in which the boys had been involved. "But, Dad," Bob interrupted his parent's horrified exclamations, "it's all over now. None of us is injured, and we have got back our airplane." "I know, Bob, I know," answered the older man. "But you can't understand a father's feelings. And it isn't all over yet by any means, for you haven't rescued Mr. Hampton. And you don't know what difficulties you will encounter in doing so, and what dangers you will run." "Oh, I believe the worst is over, Dad," answered Bob. "We have captured Morales and Von Arnheim, and they were our two worst dangers. If we had encountered them at rebel headquarters and they had recognized me, our goose would have been cooked. We would have been taken prisoners, too. But now there will be nobody to recognize us. The rebels will take us for what we pretend to be, young Americans seeking adventure and riding in to enlist." "Perhaps, Bob," said his father, only half convinced. "But let me think this over. There ought to be some other way to rescue Mr. Hampton now that you have the airplane again. Also you have these prisoners. It may be that you can gain some valuable information from them. Have you questioned them yet?" "That's just what I was coming to, Dad," said Bob. Thereupon he proceeded to tell his father of Roy Stone, the young American in charge of the radio plant in the cave, whom they had made prisoner. A lengthy conversation ensued. Mr. Temple was reluctant at first to have the boys reveal their identities inasmuch as so far they had escaped detection. But he saw that if an ally could be made of Stone it would be of the highest importance to the boys. He finally authorized Bob to promise Stone a suitable reward, if he thought that would appeal to him. Then, enjoining Bob to take no further steps without first consulting him by radio, Mr. Temple concluded the conversation. To Jack and Frank, speaking in low tones at the entrance to the cave where Frank kept guard, Bob explained the gist of his conversation with his father. Tom Bodine still slumbered heavily. Stone lay napping on his bed. Morales and Von Arnheim sat with drooping heads in the heavy chairs where, while Bob telephoned, Jack had thought it best to bind them. "Well, let's talk with Stone and see what he has to say," Jack said. "Frank and I have been talking the situation over, too, and we've got all sorts of ideas. For one thing, we thought there was a chance the rebels could be persuaded to exchange father for Von Arnheim and Morales. Stone might know how important those two worthies are considered by the rebels." "Can't I listen in on this confab?" Frank asked, plaintively. "Or must I continue to mount guard here? Besides, I want to go down and look at our airplane, and pat it even if I can't get in and fly. I can see it from here, and it looks tempting." "You'll have to wait awhile to do that, I expect," said Jack with a smile. "We must decide what to do next before we spend any time playing." At that moment, Tom Bodine yawned prodigiously and sat up on his make-shift couch. "At least I can have a voice in the conference," said Frank. "If Tom's awake he can mount guard." "All right, fine," said Jack. "We'll leave him out here with Morales and Von Arnheim, as soon as he has had something to eat. Then the three of us can take Stone into the other room and have a talk with him." So it was arranged. CHAPTER XXI GAINING AN ALLY Before mounting guard, however, Tom thought of their horses, a detail which the boys had forgotten in the quick march of events. He and Bob descended the slope, brought the animals into the valley where there was grass along the bed of a little stream trickling from a spring, and a few trees that provided shade. The horses were hobbled to prevent wandering too far, and then left to do as they pleased. They pleased, every one, to lie down at once and roll. Upon their return to the cave, after Bob first had inspected the airplane and found it in tiptop condition and stocked with gas and oil, Tom mounted guard while the boys carried out their intention of taking Stone into the inner room for a conference. Stone made matters easy for all concerned by speaking first, as soon as they all were out of earshot of Morales and Von Arnheim, and telling the boys he had guessed their identities. "Of course, I don't know your names," he said, "but I reckon one of you is the son of that American bigbug old Calomares is holding prisoner up at his ranch. And the rest of you are his pals." Bob's face fell. He had believed their identities were unsuspected. If this man could draw so clever a deduction, then their two other prisoners could do likewise. Moreover, if they carried out their original plan and went to rebel headquarters to enlist, would they not there, too, be suspected? "Do the others guess who we are?" he asked. "Don't know," said Stone. "I haven't been given much chance to talk to 'em, have I? But that German is smart, and he may suspect. But"--and with this statement he set at rest a part of Bob's fears--"my bed is pretty close to this room an' I have pretty good ears. I overheard some things that Morales and Von Arnheim couldn't hear, especially when you used the radio to call your father. Anyhow, I thought it was your father. Mostly you spoke in code, but I heard you call him 'Dad' a couple of times." The three chums looked at each other, nonplussed. Stone laughed. "Until I made out who you were," he said, "I thought you were some wild-eyed kids looking for adventure an' comin' to the right place to find it. But once I got a suspicion, it was easy to figure out the rest. You see, I knew about your owning the airplane that Von Arnheim stole, an' about your radio stations. When you started the generator that showed me you knew something about radio, an' that was another clue. "So I just put two an' two together. Anyhow, it finally came to me who you were. Am I right?" "Yes," said Jack, taking the initiative as Stone concluded, "you are correct. It is my father who is held prisoner by the Mexicans, and these are my chums." Jack regarded the other searchingly. "We're in trouble," he said, simply, "and we need help that you could give us. How closely are you tied up with the rebels? You're an American and we are Americans. Does that mean anything to you?" "Yes, kid, it does," said Stone. Despite the fact that he was only seven or eight years older than the three chums, he had led a roving life that had given him a world of experience and an older viewpoint, and he persisted in regarding them as youngsters. "I'm strong for the good old U.S.A.," he continued. "But don't get me wrong. These are fine people down here, and don't you believe they ain't. Their standards aren't American standards either in manners or politics. But, just the same, they're good folks, and don't you let anybody tell you different. I wouldn't turn against them for anything. So, although your fathers have lots of money"--here he looked fixedly at Bob, who felt uncomfortable remembering his father's authorization to offer Stone money to help them--"well, don't offer me any, that's all." Bob was silent, but Jack again stepped into the breach. "Good for you," he said warmly. "I'm glad to hear you talk that way. But"--and here Jack paused impressively--"suppose the imprisonment of my father threatened the peace and prosperity of the 'good old U.S.A.' as you call it. What then?" Stone looked troubled. "See here," he said. "What are you driving at?" "Shall we tell him what Mr. Temple says is behind all this?" Jack asked his companions. Bob and Frank nodded agreement. "Well," began Jack, "it's this way." Thereupon he proceeded to relate Mr. Temple's theory that the attacks on the independent oil operators, the capturing of Mr. Hampton and the attempt engineered by Rollins and Remedios to capture himself, were all part of a plan to embroil the United States government with President Obregon, as the responsible head of the country whence the outrages originated. "And Mr. Temple says," concluded Jack, "that if the two countries did come to war, it would hurt us very much with all Latin-America." "Sure would," agreed Stone thoughtfully. "I've knocked about among these Spanish-American republics for years, an' they all look on the little old U.S.A. as a dollar-chaser and a bully." He was silent for a moment, and when he resumed, he said: "Look here. What you've just told me makes a big difference. You haven't said yet what you are out to do. But I can make a pretty good guess. You're going to try to rescue your father without letting the American authorities know anything about it. Am I right?" Jack nodded. "Well, I'll help you," said Stone. "I know where he is and how to get him, an' I'll tell you all I know." "Hurray," yelled Frank, the impulsive. Jack and Bob contented themselves with grasping Stone's hand warmly. Realizing Stone still was bound, Bob pulled out a pocket knife and started to cut his bonds, but Stone made him desist. "Keep this dark from Von Arnheim and Morales," he said. "And keep me tied up. They may suspect I'm throwing in with you, but I don't want 'em to know. I want to be able to make a getaway, because these parts won't be very pleasant for me hereafter." "That's right," said Bob. "Well, even if you won't take money, you'll have to let my father or Mr. Hampton help you in some way, with a job or something." Stone smiled tolerantly. "Buddy," said he, "getting along is the least of my troubles." With Stone's aid won, the boys now set about learning from him how matters stood at the Calomares ranch. For hours they continued to talk, so absorbed that they did not realize the flight of time until Tom Bodine came to inform them the sun was near setting and to ask what they intended to do that night. By then, however, they had obtained from Stone all the information he could give them, which was considerable; Bob had had another talk by radio with his father, and a plan for further proceedings had been worked out. Jack and Bob were to make the attempt at the rescue of Mr. Hampton alone. They were to fly to the Calomares ranch in the airplane with Bob at the wheel, as Jack was not so experienced a flyer. Bob, on the other hand, knew his machine thoroughly, and was familiar with its every trick, a knowledge much to be desired as airplanes even more than motor cars and ships develop temperament and have got to be "humored," so to speak. Frank rebelled at the part assigned him. He was to stay behind at the cave with Tom Bodine and Roy Stone, guarding the prisoners, Morales and Von Arnheim. When they had rescued Mr. Hampton, Jack and Bob would take him in the airplane and start flying to the Hampton ranch. By means of the radio in the airplane, which could send 150 to 200 miles, although it could receive messages from a much greater distance, the Hamptons and Bob would notify the party left behind in the cave. Then Frank, Tom Bodine and Stone would ride for the border on horseback. Morales and Von Arnheim would be left bound so as to prevent their giving an alarm or offering any interference with the programme. After the party had been given time to make its way well along toward the border, rebel headquarters was to be notified by radio from the Hampton ranch of the location of the prisoners. The latter would, therefore, suffer nothing but inconvenience. "But what fun do I get out of this?" lamented Frank, enviously regarding Bob and Jack. "You fellows get all the fun and all the glory. I ride tamely back to the ranch." "It is hard luck, Frank," said Bob. "But your shoulder is sore and aching from your fight last night, and I'm in better condition to operate the plane. Besides, you know we can't take you, as the plane will hold only three and when we get Mr. Hampton we'll have our full complement. Some one of us has to stay behind. You've had your share of the fun so far, anyhow, and your turn will come again." "I don't see it," said Frank. "It looks to me as if when you rescue Mr. Hampton the fun will all be over. But that's the way with you big bullies. Always picking on the little fellow." "Well, you see," said Bob mischievously, "I've got to keep you out of danger for Della's sake. Ouch! Wow! Letup. Can't you take a joke." For, lame shoulder notwithstanding, Frank leaped and, bowling the big fellow out of his chair, got astride of his writhing body and began to pummel him. CHAPTER XXII FLYING TO THE RESCUE "Come on. Strip." It was Bob talking, and the command was addressed to Morales and Von Arnheim. Tom Bodine stood guard over them with leveled revolver. "But, why?" protested Von Arnheim. "Ask us no questions an' we'll tell you no lies," said Tom, waving his weapon. "Jest do what you're tole." Sullenly the two men obeyed. When their outer clothing had been removed, and they stood revealed in light-weight undergarments--a well set-up powerful pair of men, about the height of Jack and Bob although neither was so sturdy as the latter--Bob halted them. "That's enough," he said. "Here put these around you." And he tossed them rubber ponchos which they threw around their shoulders. Scooping up the discarded clothing of the two men, Bob and Jack retired to the radio room. Stripping quickly, Jack dressed in Morales' clothing and Bob in that of the German aviator. This arrangement was adopted because Jack could speak Spanish with considerable fluency and thus fitted into the role of the Mexican. Bob, on the other hand, was better adapted to pass as the German who, they had been informed by Roy Stone, spoke Spanish only awkwardly. "Buenos dios, Senor," said Jack, bowing gracefully. "Ach du lieber Augustine," answered Bob, standing at salute. They burst into hearty laughter, in which they were joined by Frank and Roy Stone, who were present at the transformation. "How will we do?" asked Jack. Stone eyed them critically. "To fellows that know Morales and Von Arnheim only by sight," he said, "you will pass for them easily enough. Both of them are smooth-shaven, which is unusual, for Mexicans and Germans both favor mustaches. But that's all the better for you boys. "One thing you want to remember," he said to Bob, "and that is to walk pretty stiffly like you had a bone in your leg an' swallowed a ramrod. That's the way Von Arnheim always steps out, An' both of you keep your hats pulled down." "Now you boys have got the bearings I gave you. You can easy enough find the landing field, even in the darkness. It's a big meadow as flat as a table, with the ranch house and outbuildings in a clump at one end, an' the radio station with its big tower supporting the antenna at t'other. Both places will be all lighted up, for Calomares lives like one o' them old-time barons an' he's always got so many men around the place he needn't fear nobody, so why put out lights? He likes light. He's a bug on it, in fact." "Suits me," said Bob. "That gives me some beacons to go by." From the foregoing it will be seen that the boys had changed materially their original plan of riding in as adventure-seeking American youths to enlist in the rebel forces, and wait their chance to effect the rescue of Mr. Hampton. As matters now stood. Bob and Jack were to land in the airplane, and while Bob stayed by it, Jack was to make his way to the room where his father was held prisoner, free him, and guide him back to the airplane, when they would fly for the border. Of course, the plan would not be so easy of execution as it sounded. To find the ranch and make a safe landing would be a fairly easy task. The ranch was not more than fifty miles distant by air line, and in that sparsely habited country there would be no other similar group of lights to puzzle Bob. Once they had alighted, however, the difficulties would be encountered. At first the boys had considered the advisability of waiting until a late hour to make their attempt. Rebel headquarters then would have retired for the night, and they would run less danger of encountering anybody on landing. In that event, however, they soon realized, ranch and radio station alike would be dark and Bob would have no beacons to guide him to a landing. No, there was only one thing to do, and that was to arrive at an early hour. Moreover, there would be this advantage attached, namely, that sentries would be lax and that, with many persons coming and going in and about the ranch, the passage of a familiar figure, such as they would take Jack to be, would arouse no comment. Jack might be halted, of course, by some one desirous of conversation. But he could make some excuse to pass on. As a matter of fact he planned to wrap a handkerchief about his jaw and pretend to be suffering from toothache. This would serve the double purpose of partially hiding his features, and of excusing him from indulging in extended speech. "All right," said Jack, finally, as he finished donning his disguise by clapping Morales' hat on his head. "Let's go." "Ya, ya," said Bob, doing a goosestep. Once more they all had a good laugh. Then Bob and Jack walked into the outer room of the cave, followed by Frank and Roy Stone. Stone had thrown caution to the winds, and had decided not to try any longer to hide his defection from Morales and Von Arnheim. "I'll soon be riding away from here with you, anyhow," he told Frank. "And they'll find out then, if they haven't already suspected. I'm going down to the airplane to see the kids off." Frank had demanded this privilege of going down to the valley and seeing Bob and Jack get away, and the others had no thought of denying him. So all four, bearing the oil torches kept in the cave by Stone for the purpose of lighting the landing field at night, descended from the cave. Tom Bodine was left to guard the two prisoners. These had again suffered the ignominy of having their hands tied, after they had undressed, and, wrapped in the rubber ponchos given them by Bob, they had flung themselves down on the pallet prepared the previous night by the boys. Stationed in the outer entrance of the cave, Tom Bodine looked around at the two prone forms several times. But always they lay motionless under their ponchos, and there seemed no cause for suspicion regarding them. Poor fellows, thought Tom, who held no particular animosity against them, they had had a hard time of it lately. After landing from a flying trip, they had been set upon and beaten. Then, made prisoner, they had spent the intervening hours cramped in bonds and in doubt as to what their captors intended doing with them. Probably were tired out and asleep by now, thought Tom. He even tiptoed over to where they lay and found, as he had expected, that both had their eyes closed and were breathing heavily. Returning to the entrance, Tom took a step or two forward so as the better to see past the big rock outside and thus get a clearer view of the airplane. The boys had reached it by now, the oil flares were planted to both sides, and it was illuminated, standing out in the tossing light like a great bird. As the propeller began to whirl, Tom took another step or two forward. An airplane was a new puzzle to him, and he was so interested in watching it get under way that he forgot his trust, forgot he had prisoners to watch, forgot everything but the mystery of that piece of mechanism, that gigantic bird, running bumpily now over the ground and now beginning to lift into the air, and now---- Tom whirled about. The old instinct of the man who lives much in the open, telling him danger is close at hand, was stirring at the roots of his hair. But he was just a trifle too late. As he faced about, a form shot out of the cave and Tom, totally unprepared for attack, was bowled over. As he fell he let out a great wordless cry, thinking to warn Frank and Roy Stone. Then the butt of a revolver descended on his head. CHAPTER XXIII THE TABLES TURNED "What was that?" asked Frank, turning to Roy Stone, as the airplane bearing Jack and Bob on their romantic adventure dwindled in the darkening sky. "I thought I heard a shout." "Guess you did," said Stone. "I heard it, too. It came from the cave." Both turned to stare upward toward the distant cave. There was no sign of movement. Only the dim bulk of the rock obscuring the entrance could be distinguished. They looked at each other, a nameless fear stirring at their hearts. Then Frank shook himself and laughed. "Pshaw," said he, "this lonesome place seems spooky. I know what it must have been. It must have been Tom shouting a farewell to the fellows." "Reckon you're right," said Stone, brightening. "Sure, that must be it. Well, let's go back. We'll be starting in a couple of hours, if all goes well." "All right," said Frank, reaching to pluck one of the oil flares out of the ground. Stone halted him. Again he looked anxiously toward the cave. "Let's not take the torches," said he. "Why not?" "Just playing a hunch," said Stone. "I have the feeling that all may not be well up at the cave." Frank dropped his voice unconsciously, as if fearing eavesdroppers in that lonely spot. "To tell you the truth," said he frankly. "I feel the same way. I say! I have an idea. Let's edge out of the light without hurry, not toward the cave, but out that way," pointing in the direction taken by the airplane. "We'll put our hands up to our eyes and pretend to be watching the sky for the airplane's flight. It would be natural for us to want to get beyond the light of these torches, if we were trying to follow the boys with our eyes." "That's the ticket," said Stone, and the two put Frank's plan into execution. Beyond the light cast by the torches they paused. Darkness had descended now, in truth. Not even the shadowy bulk of the big rock before the entrance to the cave could be distinguished. "Maybe we're making ourselves nervous over nothing," said Stone. "I feel kind of foolish. After all, what could happen? That old cowman pal of yours looks pretty capable." "He is, too," said Frank. "Just the same, I feel we ought to be cautious. If Tom's all right when we reach the cave, well and good. But if he isn't------" "You're right, kid," said Stone. "I'm no more of a coward than the next fellow. But if Morales and Von Arnheim by any chance gained the upper hand and got their clutches on me, I'd hear the birdies sing." Frank had been thinking rapidly. "Look here," he said, "isn't there some way we can sneak up there to find out if matters are all right or not? Suppose Tom has been overcome. We wouldn't stand much chance approaching the cave by the regular entrance." He paused and again stared upward. "We've been gone a considerable time," he said nervously. "You'd think if he were all right, Tom would have called to find out what is delaying us." "Tell you what," said Stone, "I've got a little private path to the top of the cave where the antenna is located. It isn't much more than a goat track. But we'll have to be goats. Never been up it in the dark, but I think I can make it. Are you game to follow me?" "Certainly," said Frank, "if it will be of any advantage for us to do so." "Well, there's a fissure through the rock down into the cave. That's where the Germans that put in the radio plant made their hook-up. We can listen there, and maybe hear something to guide us." "Oh, I remember that," said Frank, and added excitedly: "Maybe I could crawl down into the cave." "You might be able to, at that," said Stone. "You're pretty slight. But it would be a ticklish proposition without any rope from above. Well, if you're on, let's go." Turning he struck off across the valley, approaching the hill some distance from the path leading to the cave. Frank followed closely at his heels. Soon they began mounting upward. The climb in the darkness became more and more difficult, made more so by the care they exercised to prevent dislodging stones. They feared the clatter of these descending to the bottom would betray them. Once Stone, who was in the lead, slipped and slid backward, clutching frantically to stay his fall. Fortunately, Frank was well braced at the moment and was able to stop him. After a rest to regain their breath and calm their shaking nerves, they resumed the climb. At length Frank's feet were on level ground and ahead he saw the outlines of two latticed towers of familiar construction, and between them overheard the strands of the antenna. The Germans, Stone earlier had explained, had built the towers in such fashion that the crest of the hill hid them from the plain on one side while they were so far back from the edge of the flat plateau crowning the hill as to be also hidden from view from the valley. Whispering an injunction to Frank to follow close at his heels, Stone crawled on hands and knees to the fissure in the rocks down which led the wires of the hook-up. It was not a straight descent into the cave, and no light came from it. But the two knelt in the darkness and put their heads close to the black opening to listen. A murmur of speech could be heard distinctly, coming up through the hole. Frank could not distinguish the words, but with his limited knowledge of Spanish he was able to decipher that language was being employed. "What is it?" he whispered to Stone. "Can you hear? Are they speaking in Spanish?" "Silence. Just a minute," answered Stone. His voice was anxious. Frank obeyed the command. In a moment, Stone lifted his head and said hoarsely: "It's Morales. He and the German must have overcome your friend in some way. And I think he's got the Calomares ranch on the phone and is giving warning that your friends are on the way." Frank groaned. "Then when Jack and Bob land, they'll be surprised and captured. Oh, can't we do something?" Excitedly he jumped to his feet. "Let's put the radio out of commission." Stone also leaped up and laid a restraining hand on his arm. "No, no. Wait a minute. The damage is done already. These fellows already have given sufficient warning to put them on guard at the ranch, even though they can't have told the whole story." They stood undecided, looking at each other, in the starlit darkness. With an exclamation, Frank seized Stone by the arm. In his excitement, he shook it. "Jack and Bob both clamped the headpieces on when they left in the airplane," he said. "And Jack tuned the radio to the pitch of this station, in order to be able to call us after rescuing his father. Why, he must have heard Morales give his warning! Yes, sirree. Why this isn't so bad!" In their relief, the two laughed a trifle hysterically. In a moment, however, Frank sobered again. "Just the same," he said, "the ranch would get the warning, unless--" "Unless what?" "Unless Jack was quick enough to grasp the situation." Stone slapped his leg. "I see what you mean," he said. "Your friend Jack could call the ranch, too, and interfere so much that Morales' message would be all twisted up." "That's it," said Frank. "And when it comes to thinking quickly and acting at once, you can count on Jack. Just the same," he added, "he can't keep that up forever, and when he lands--" "Which he'll have to do shortly," interrupted Stone, "because the ranch is only fifty miles from here." "Why, then," continued Frank, "these fellows can get their warning to the ranch and the boys will be captured, or at least their plan to rescue Mr. Hampton will be spoiled. No, sir, we'll have to wreck the radio plant here to give them a chance. If Jack has been able so far to interfere with the warning, and we put this plant out of commission now, they may be able to carry out their rescue after all. Let's see. How will we go about it?" Both had been so engrossed they had failed to notice a dark form which, after creeping noiselessly up the slope, had started edging across the little plateau. Now this form suddenly straightened up and leaped forward. Frank cried out in alarm and jumped sideways, just as a spurt of flame split the darkness. The bullet sped by, leaving him unharmed. Stone, who was closer and stood with back turned, whirled about. The charging form cannoned into him, and he went down. CHAPTER XXIV FRANK SAVES THE DAY Frank's first thought was to go to the assistance of Roy Stone. The latter and his opponent--in the darkness Frank could not distinguish whether it was Morales or Von Arnheim--were locked with their arms about each other and rolling on the ground. His second thought was as to the whereabouts of the other man. He glanced about in alarm. Dark though the plateau was, however, he could see there was no other in sight. Bending down to the fissure in the rock, he could still hear the voice of Morales, and although he could not distinguish the words, he received the impression that the Mexican was angered for some reason. To Frank this meant that Morales was having difficulty in radioing the Calomares ranch, and his heart leaped with exultation. Jack had interfered. A wild thought leaped full grown into his mind. Stone had given Bob a stiff battle; he probably would do the same to Von Arnheim, even though his shoulder was sore. What was to prevent Frank from slipping down to the cave while the two were engaged, where he could release Tom Bodine, surprise Morales and recapture the cave and the radio plant? The next moment a feeling of shame surged over him. If Von Arnheim gained the upper hand, he would kill Stone without compunction. Putting aside his first thought, Frank ran to where the two forms still lay tightly locked on the ground, neither able to gain an advantage. He bent down, and the first thing his gaze encountered was an upflung hand grasping a revolver, and another hand gripped about the wrist of the first and preventing use of the weapon. He surmised it was Von Arnheim who held the weapon, and acted accordingly. Grasping the German's hand, he pressed back the fingers so sharply a cry of pain was wrung from Von Arnheim's lip. The revolver dropped to the ground. Its owner, however, pluckily continued the fight. Frank danced about, the captured weapon clubbed in his hand, ready to deal a blow when possible. But so furious was the fight that he feared to strike, lest he hit his friend. Precious minutes were flying by. He was in an agony. Morales had to be prevented from radioing the ranch, if Jack and Bob were to stand their chance. Then suddenly Roy Stone gained the upper hand of his opponent. He legs were twined about Von Arnheim, he clutched the other to his chest, one arm was in the small of his back, the other was pressed across his throat, his chin was sunk deep into the German's shoulder. Von Arnheim had only one arm free, the other was pinioned to his side. With this free arm he plucked futilely at Roy's arm across his throat, unable to reach the guarded face. It was a grip Von Arnheim was powerless to break, and it was only a question of time until he would be throttled into submission. With a leap of the heart, Frank realized this. And bending down with his lips to Stone's ear, he said: "I've got his gun. If you can hold him now I'm going into the cave after Morales. He's still at the phone." A grunt was Stone's only reply as he pressed his chin deeper into the other's shoulder. Von Arnheim's body was beginning to arch like a bow. If he did not surrender soon, his back would be broken. Frank darted off down the slope. Morales was seated at the telephone as Frank entered the cave, captured revolver in his hand. His own weapon hung forgotten at his side, so little used was he to the handling of small arms. Frank had tumbled, fallen, rolled down the slope, taking no precautions, fired only with anxiety to prevent Morales from radioing while there was yet time. The Mexican also, in his anxiety to reach the ranch and give the warning, had cast caution aside. Across the outer room dashed Frank, scarcely noting the trussed-up figure of Tom Bodine flung in one corner. No hangings obscured the brightly-lighted interior of the inner cave, for they had been torn down the night before to form a pallet. Morales sat with his back turned, the headpiece clamped over his ears. Frank darted forward and brought the butt of the revolver crashing down on the Mexican's head. Without a sound, without a gurgle or a cry, Morales swayed in the chair, then slumped to one side and slid to the floor. With nervous haste Frank pulled the headpiece from the other and clamped it on his head. At once a crackle of Spanish words filled his ears. He could make nothing of them. What little knowledge of Spanish he once had possessed was not at his command now. "Jack, Bob," he cried, pulling the microphone toward him. "This is Frank. Do you hear me? Frank." The chattering ceased as if by magic. "Frank? What in the world?" Glory be! It was Jack's voice in reply. "Use the code," cried Frank. In this emergency his brain was working lightning-fast. And in their own private code he added: "It's all right now. They captured Tom Bodine while we were down in the valley seeing you off. But we've recaptured the cave." "You saved our lives," came back Jack's voice. "I heard your Mexican friend call the ranch while we were flying, and at once started to interfere. It's been a job and my throat's hoarse. But he never got his message through, I can tell you that. Whatever it was he had to tell, I never did find out. I just started interfering, singing, talking, shouting. The ranch never found out what he was trying to say, and neither did I. But, boy, you're just in time. We can see the lights now. What? What's that?" What he heard was a shout. But Frank was too busy to answer his question. Morales had recovered consciousness and was on his knees and struggling to his feet, when out of the tail of his eye Frank saw his peril. Snatching the instrument from his head, he flung himself sideways. The impact of his body hurled Morales again to the floor. Frank had placed the captured revolver on the table, as he telephoned. He would have to fight with his bare hands. Well, he would not let the Mexican overcome him and regain possession of that radiophone unless he killed Frank first. With hands gripped about the other's throat and legs twined about his body, Frank fought as he never thought he could fight. Morales was a heavy man, heavier even than Von Arnheim who had overcome Frank in that tempestuous fight in the darkness the night before. But his senses were still somewhat numbed from the blow on the head dealt him earlier by Frank, and the boy was fighting with a strength born of desperate resolve. Frank's grip on the Mexican's throat tightened. Morales was unable to pluck those cruel hands away. His face became purple. His eyes started from his head. Suddenly he went limp beneath Frank, and sank to the floor. Frank stood up swaying. The excitement and the strain of the combat had had their effect on him. There are mighty few boys of his age and build who could have gone through what he did and still keep their feet. Dancing points of light swam before his vision. He brushed a hand across his eyes to clear them. He reeled and would have fallen, but his hand clutched the table and steadied him. What was it he must do? There was something which had to be done. Oh, if his head only would clear. Call Jack! Yes, that was it. Had to tell the old boy to go ahead--radio plant still Frank's--enemy couldn't get any warning from that Mexican fellow--had to tell him, had to. Clutching the table, swaying, but with lips tightly pressed together and teeth clenched, Frank made his way to the microphone. Holding the headpiece to his ear, he set his lips to the telephone instrument and called: "Jack, Jack, you there?" "Yes, yes," came back the anxious reply. "What happened?" "It's all right, Jack. Go ahead. I licked--him." The headpiece fell from his grasp. Frank sank to the floor. It was there a moment later that Roy Stone found him, fallen in a heap across the body of the Mexican. Both were unconscious. Stone was shaky himself. His battle with Von Arnheim had been a severe one, and the wound in his shoulder had started bleeding again. But as his gaze took in the situation, he turned to Tom Bodine, whose bonds he had cut on his way through the outer cave, and said in a tone of warmest admiration: "Some boy." CHAPTER XXV DANGER AT HAND Bob as well as Jack had heard Frank's explanation of the occurrences at the cave, for he also wore a headpiece as he piloted the airplane. And it was with warm admiration toward the absent chum who so heroically had thwarted Morales' attempt to betray their hazardous expedition that he circled now above the two groups of lights which marked the Calomares ranch and radio station. Smaller and smaller grew the circles, as with engine shut off he volplaned. The field was hard-packed and smooth and the plane alighted finally with practically no jar. When it came to a dead stop at last, Bob drew a long breath of relief. He had not been up for several weeks. And night flying above strange country to a landing on unfamiliar ground had been a strain upon him. There were no mechanics running out to greet the alighting plane and trundle it into its hangar. Had this been a well-appointed landing field, such absence would have been suspicious. But to Bob and Jack it meant only confirmation of Roy Stone's remark that they were a "careless lot at the ranch." "Now for it," said Jack, clambering out of the plane. The two chums stared around them, trying to pierce the darkness. They were in the middle of a long and wide field. A ring of low hills encircled them, the tops clearly outlined against the velvety sky. Overhead twinkled stars, brighter, warmer and apparently closer than when viewed in their Long Island home. The hills on either hand were close. So, too, was the rampart at their back, over which they had flown. Those ahead were more distant, for it was in that direction extended the valley. Behind them was the radio plant with its tracery of tower and antenna against the sky and the windows of the power house gleaming from the light within. Ahead was a long, irregular clump of buildings set among trees. Some were dark. But the main structure, which they knew from Stone's description was the ranch house, was brightly lighted. Try as they would to pierce the darkness, the boys were unable to discern anything other than this. There was not a human figure in sight. They gazed with especial interest toward the ranch house, because it was somewhere within those walls that Mr. Hampton was held prisoner. Soon, if all went well, Jack would be making his way within in search of his father. At the thought, his heart which heretofore had been calm enough, began to beat rapidly and for a moment he felt as if he were about to suffocate. His breath almost failed him. It was a not unnatural feeling, and soon passed, but Bob noting the labored breathing climbed from the airplane and put an arm over his chum's shoulder. "Steady, Jack," he said. "Everything's going to be all right." The friendly gesture and the sympathy in his chum's voice did steady Jack. "All right, now, Bob," he said. "Just at first, though----" "Righto," the big fellow answered. "I'm scared stiff myself, and I'm not even going into the ranch. If I were in your boots I'd probably be shaking myself loose from them." The pleasantry was what Jack needed. He grinned at the thought of big Bob shaking so much with fear as to shake off his shoes, and his recovery was complete. The plan was for Jack, in the dress and character of Morales, to go to the ranch house, enter boldly and make his way to the room where his father was held prisoner. Bob was to stay with the plane. Releasing his father, Jack would return with him. Then they would all three fly away across the international boundary to the north. It was impossible to foretell, of course, what obstacles to the carrying out of this daring proposal would arise. Both boys felt certain, however, that so far they were not suspected, and that first Jack and then Frank had successfully thwarted the attempt of Morales to send a warning to the ranch by radio. Neither was aware, of course, that the jumble of sounds through the air, when Jack from the airplane had interfered with Morales' attempt to warn the ranch, and later the code conversation between Jack and Frank, after the latter had obtained possession of the radio plant in the cave and had overcome Morales, had aroused the curiosity and then the suspicions of the young German, Muller, who operated the radio plant at the Calomares ranch. A few moments before the beat of its engine in the sky signalized the approach of the airplane, Muller had decided to go to the ranch and report to Calomares. He had crossed the landing field afoot and had just reached the belt of trees when the machine volplaned to the field behind him. Although, as has been said, his suspicions were aroused, Muller was far from suspecting the truth. He had no idea the airplane had been recovered by its rightful owners and that these latter were about to make a daring attempt to rescue Mr. Hampton. His thought on the contrary, was that something--he could not make a more definite surmise--had gone wrong at the cave. Therefore, when, after standing several minutes at the belt of trees, gazing back toward the airplane, he saw a figure start from it for the ranch house, he believed it was either Von Arnheim or Morales coming to report. Muller was a sycophant, the type of man eager to curry favor with those in authority. He decided he would gain the ear of the great Calomares first. That would detract somewhat from the glory of the other when he arrived. Turning he darted for the ranch. Meantime, Jack was making his way ahead more slowly. While not attempting to hide, he was on unfamiliar ground and felt that it behooved him to follow implicitly the directions given by Roy Stone and make no mistakes. Passing through the grove, Jack came in sight of the ranch. He paused in astonishment. Roy Stone's description of the great house had prepared him in a measure. Yet he was astounded. Here, indeed, was a palace in the wilderness. The mansion stood on a slight elevation with a lawn in front sloping down to the trees from which Jack had emerged. In design it was like a country house of the ancient Roman aristocracy. The walls were of vari-colored brick with inlaid designs representing formal flowers. Two stories in height, with towers at the corners rising another two stories higher, the building was in two wings or sections, joined in front by a marble-tiled walk, roofed and pillared, but with the sides open. Inside, between these two wings, Roy Stone had told Jack, was an open court. Nerving himself to the ordeal, and pulling down his hat to obscure his features, Jack crossed the lawn and started mounting the wide flight of stone steps flanked by crouching stone lions. He reached the marble tiles of the walk above and then, despite his anxiety to gain the left wing and the tower where his father was confined, he involuntarily paused. The scene before him was one of the strangest to be found on the North American continent--this marble courtyard, with its overhanging balcony around the sides and rear and its splashing fountain and pool in the center, the whole illuminated by the soft glow of electric lights cunningly concealed along the edges of the balcony like footlights on the lip of a stage. But it was not this alone which held Jack's gaze riveted and caused a smothered cry of surprise to burst from his lips. Involuntarily he stepped from the shelter of a pillar behind which he had been standing. For approaching along the balcony of the left wing, Jack saw the loved figure of his father engrossed in conversation with a small, dark man of patrician bearing. It was instinct rather than conscious thought which checked the cry on his lips. Instinct told him a shout would mean betrayal, and the shattering of his desperate plan. Yet careless of who might see, he stood there looking up at the distant figure until it was lost to view, cut off by the outjutting roof above him. That one sight, however, lifted a vast load from the boy's mind. His father, at least, was not mistreated. Evidently the man with him was the Don. And as evidently his father was treated more as guest than prisoner. At sound of a footstep on the marble tiles behind him, Jack returned with a start to a realization of his surroundings and the perils of his position. Assuming a carelessness which he was far from feeling, he refrained from turning about but instead started walking for that left wing ahead in the tower of which he knew his father to be lodged. But the step behind him was accelerated, and he was hailed by name as Morales. Jack halted. Here was the first ordeal to be passed. Well, he was prepared for it. According to his plan, he had bound his face in a handkerchief and intended to pretend having the toothache. The swathings partly hid his features, and the pulled-down hat further obscured them. "I'm busy. Don't delay me," he growled in Spanish, imitating Morales' voice. The newcomer approached. It was Muller. CHAPTER XXVI THE NIGHT ATTACK When Jack's figure had become merged in the shadows of the grove, big Bob, standing beside the airplane, reached a decision. "Not a soul in sight here," he muttered to himself, once more letting his gaze rove over his surroundings. "Jack thought it would be best for me to stay here, but nobody's going to monkey with the plane. I'm going to follow him--till he reaches the house, anyhow. He may need my help." Thus the big fellow salved his conscience for departing from orders. But he was so eager to take a hand in proceedings that he felt it would be torture to stay behind. He was dressed in Von Arnheim's clothes. And his build was that of the German aviator. If he were observed, he would not be suspected. Even his atrocious Spanish would not betray him, as the German spoke the language almost as horribly as he. Thus he reasoned to himself, as he strode rapidly after Jack. When he reached the other side of the grove, and came in sight of the ranch house Bob, as Jack had done, halted in amazement at sight of the splendid structure. He gazed around him. Nobody in sight. Shrubbery intervening prevented him from gaining a clear view of the house. He started to skirt the bushes. Meantime, not far away, the conversation between Jack and Muller was nearing a climax. Approaching the pretended Morales, Muller asked what he had tried to convey in his radio call, explaining it had been so interfered with by another mysterious call as to be non-understandable. Not knowing Muller was the radio man at the ranch, Jack was nonplussed. Again he answered that he could not be delayed, and started to withdraw. Then Muller laid a detaining hand on his arm. "Keep it to yourself, if you want to," Muller said. "But I know something happened at the cave and I have already reported so to the Don. First I thought you were trying to radio from the cave. Now here you come by airplane. There's--" "What do you mean?" growled Jack gruffly, although secretly alarmed. "I mean there's something wrong," Muller said. Muller still had no suspicion that the man before him was other than he pretended to be. Merely he was trying to pry into a matter that had aroused his curiosity. Jack, however, thought he was on the eve of being discovered, and was alarmed. At this moment Bob, skirting a clump of bushes on the lawn below, came in sight of the two figures and halted. He saw Jack wrench his arm from the other's grasp and turn to stride away. He saw the other raise an arm as if to stay Jack. And he saw the movement flip Jack's low-pulled hat from his head. It was accidental, but to Jack and Bob--the actor and the observer in this little drama--it seemed to be by intent. It is possible Jack still might have saved the day, had he stooped quickly, recovered his hat and clapped it on again before Muller could have seen his features. As it was, however, Jack thought he was discovered. And he turned to deal with Muller. Then, in truth, he _was_ discovered. Muller cried out in amazement. Then Jack landed a stinging blow on the mouth which sent the young German toppling to the marble pave. At Muller's shout, several rebel sentries, who had been snoozing in the shadows beside the palace, instead of mounting guard, were startled into instant wakefulness. They came trotting in bare feet, long rifles in hand, and ran up the wide flight of steps. Bob started forward to help Jack. The latter, however, took one look at the sentries and then dashed into the left wing of the building. The sentries for a moment did not pursue, believing the fleeing man was Morales. Instead, they bent above Muller and helped him to his feet. Bob halted, and backed into the bushes, keeping his eyes on the scene. No use rushing in to help Jack now. He would merely succeed in getting into trouble himself, without aiding his chum. From his vantage point he was able to read aright what followed. Although he could not overhear what was being said and would not have understood the Spanish words, if he had overheard, nevertheless he gathered that Muller was explaining the fugitive was not Morales, but someone wearing his clothes. Then he saw the sentries dart away in pursuit of Jack, while Muller whipped out a revolver and fired three shots into the air. "That's an alarm," Bob said to himself. "I'd better back off before this place is alive with soldiers." Turning, he ran through the trees. Big Bob was not the one to desert a friend, but he saw no chance to help Jack now. On the other hand, he told himself, if he retained his freedom, he would be able to help Jack later perhaps. Suddenly he carromed into a man running toward the house. Both rebounded from the contact. Bob saw the other was a Mexican with a rifle. Quick as thought, he lashed out with his right fist and caught the soldier on the point of the jaw. Totally unprepared for this attack, the man went down as if shot. Bob ran on at redoubled speed, burst through the screen of trees, and dashed across the landing field toward his airplane. He had no definite idea as to what course to pursue. He and Jack, of course, had counted upon the possibility of Jack's being discovered. In that case, when he heard the alarm, Bob--supposedly sticking by his airplane--was to have flown away. There were shouts behind him. Evidently his soldier victim had recovered. Perhaps, even, Muller had suspected the truth, namely, that if Jack were not Morales the aviator who had brought him was not Von Arnheim. In that case, Muller would be on his trail and he would have no time to lose. What should he do? The shouts behind him were not repeated. Perhaps, after all, his identity was not yet suspected and he was not pursued. Jack might be keeping all hands busy at the ranch. In great leaps, he approached the airplane and, as he drew near, another thought obtruded itself. If he were to take flight in it, how was he to get away? Who would crank the motor by twirling the propeller? This latter difficulty was quickly solved. Two Mexicans stood at respectful attention as he approached. Bob was dismayed for a moment, but then, seeing their awkward salute, he chuckled inwardly. They mistook him for Von Arnheim and evidently that German officer was a martinet who exacted a measure of discipline from the slovenly rebel soldiers. Cracking an order at them in his best garbled Spanish, Bob clambered into the pilot's seat. He was understood, and better, was obeyed. One man gingerly approached the propeller and started twirling it, while the other went to the side of the plane and helped push it forward. The propeller began to whirl furiously as Bob worked the starting mechanism. The Mexicans leaped out of the way. The plane began to bump ahead. Shouts of anger burst forth at the same moment, there was the crack of a rifle, and a bullet sang unpleasantly close to Bob's ears. Out of the tail of his eye he could see a number of dark figures running toward him from the grove. But Bob did not wait to be interviewed. With a swoop, the airplane left the ground and started upward. His pursuers were so close at hand they could almost grasp the wheels, as they leaped upward. Yet not quite. Bullets whistled about him, and several pinged against the body of the machine with a sharp metallic ring. Bob thanked his stars that the plane had an all-metal body. Once above pursuit, he was safe from stray rifle shots. With a curse the baffled Muller, who had been quick to realize that if one masquerader was not Morales, then the other was not Von Arnheim, watched the airplane shoot away at dizzying speed and disappear beyond the guarding hills to the north. Then he turned back toward the ranch house, eager to learn how the pursuit of Jack had ended. But for young Herr Muller and the Calomares ranch in general the night alarms were not ended. In fact, they had just begun. Before Muller on his return trip had reached the belt of trees, while the search for Jack, who had mysteriously disappeared, went on merrily within the Calomares palace, and while Bob was yet flying over the hills to the north, rebel pickets below him were attacked by Mexican government troops. It was an attack in force. "Viva, Obregon," shouted the attackers. The rebels on the northern rampart of hills defending the natural amphitheatre where the Calomares ranch was located, fell back hurriedly. They were outnumbered. Out of the huddled buildings, which the boys had only glimpsed at the rear of the great ranch house boiled scores of rebel soldiery, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, hugging their rifles as they trotted forward in bare feet. Within the house, the search for Jack was temporarily abandoned, while the peppery little Don Fernandez Calomares, alarmed at this night attack which might mean that the government troops were in force, hastened to take command outdoors. To Bob, who having crossed the crest of the hill had shut off his motor and volplaning, the shots and cries of the attackers came distinctly. He had intended making a hazardous landing beyond the rebel lines and returning afoot to try and rescue Jack. But this newest development in the situation caused him to open the motor and start to spiralling upward. CHAPTER XXVII SENORITA RAFAELA Meantime, what of Jack. After bowling Muller over and fleeing from the sentries drawn by the latter's shout, Jack ran through the great arched doorway into the left wing of the palace. Ahead lay a dark corridor, upon which opened the doors of the ground floor rooms. He was in a round entranceway from which ascended a flight of winding stone steps to the balconied upper floor and the turret rooms above. Up there, somewhere, was his father. Jack paused only a moment, then sprang up the steps. As he reached the upper landing, he heard the sound of footsteps descending from the tower. He listened a moment. They were not the familiar footsteps of his father. He must act quickly, if he were to stand any chance of escape. Springing forward, revolver in hand, he seized the knob of the nearest door on the balcony, found the door give and leaped in, pushing it to behind him and setting his back against it. The room was brightly lighted, evidently a young lady's boudoir. This much his first glance showed Jack. It showed him also two women--one young and very beautiful, the other wizened and monkey-like, both terrified and speechless. They were Don Fernandez' daughter, Rafaela, and her duenna or chaperone, Donna Ana. "Quiet," hissed Jack in Spanish, waving his weapon threateningly. He listened with strained attention to sounds from outside. The menacing footsteps reached the landing, and then continued to descend. Jack turned the key in the lock. He was none too soon. A moment later the padding of the bare feet of the sentries sounded muffled outside, then grew fainter as the men separated, one ascending the stairway of the tower, the other running along the balcony. Jack was puzzled as to what next to do. From Roy Stone's brief description of the Don's family, he guessed at the identities of the two women. While he stood irresolute, the girl recovered from her fright. Her dark eyes flashed, and she commanded him in an imperious tone to lower his weapon. "Not till you promise me not to shout, Miss," Jack said. "Very well," said the girl. "But who are you? You cannot escape. My father will capture you." "Not if I can help it, Miss," said Jack grimly. In the rapid march of events, the handkerchief with which he had bound up his jaw had become loosened. Now it fell, revealing Jack's handsome features and his close-clinging mop of dark curls. "Why, you are just a boy," declared Rafaela, and her eyes lost some of their hostility while at the same time, unconsciously, her voice became less harsh. "Surely," she said, turning to Donna Ana, "this lad can have done nothing so terrible." The prim, black-robed duenna had gained courage from her mistress's temerity. She had ceased trembling. Yet she was exercised about something. Jack could not understand why. Surely, she was no longer fearful of him. She leaned closer to her young mistress, seated at a low writing table, and whispered in her ear. Rafaela threw back her head and laughed--a low, musical laugh that sounded fascinatingly pleasant in Jack's ears, worried though he was. "My dear Donna Ana," said the girl. "What if he is a man! And in my room! Are you not here to watch over me? And I do not believe he will bite. No, no. See, he is such a nice young man that I can chuck him under the chin. So!" And suiting action to words, the girl sprang from her chair, walked swiftly across the room and chucked Jack under the chin. To say that Jack was surprised would be a mild statement. From his knowledge of Latin-American girls gathered in Peru, he believed those of good family invariably were convent-bred and extremely decorous in the presence of young men. He was so dazed at the girl's action that her next move, which was a lightning-quick attempt to grasp his revolver and wrest it from him, almost succeeded. Jack retained a grip on the weapon, however, and managed to prevent Rafaela from obtaining it. Foiled in her attempt, all her bravado deserted her and running back to her chair, she sank into it and began to weep. What in the world should a fellow do in a case like this? Jack didn't know. Usually, he was equal to emergencies, but this one was something beyond his understanding. He stood helpless, while the duenna alternately glared at him and patted her young charge on the back, muttering soft words of comfort to her meanwhile. Quickly as the shower came, however, it disappeared. Rafaela pushed Donna Ana aside impatiently and looked at Jack, smiling through her tears. "Well, sir," she said, demurely, "that did not succeed. What do you intend to do with your prisoners?" This wasn't so bad. Jack grinned. "Look here," he said, sensing a kindred spirit. "I'm not a rascal. You will have to believe me. I haven't done anything so terrible, after all. You need not be scared of me." "But who are you, then?" asked the girl. "Listen. They are shouting through the house. Soon they will be making a search from room to room." Jack started. If that were true, when the searchers came to this locked door, what would happen? He thought for a moment. The daring idea to take the girl into his confidence and enlist her aid had been budding in his mind. He regarded her keenly for the first time. Would she help? Perhaps the romantic nature of his enterprise would appeal to her, even though he was fighting against her father. Well, it would do no harm to try. "You asked who I am," he said, "and why I am here. Well, I shall tell you." And speaking rapidly in his fluent Spanish, in a few brief statements, he laid before her the main fact that Mr. Hampton, whom she doubtless knew, was his father, and that he had come to the rescue in an airplane. "Only now," he concluded mournfully, "I have been discovered. I expect my chum will be forced to fly away. And it looks as if I were bound to fail." During his recital, the girl's eyes had grown bright with interest. She leaned forward, listening with eager attention. As Jack ceased, apparently she was about to speak, but there came a tattoo of knuckles on the door which caused her to halt abruptly. "Our deliverers," murmured Donna Ana, who had never entirely ceased trembling, and she cast a spiteful glance at Jack. To the duenna, young men, and especially one so unceremonious, were terrible creatures. "Silence," hissed the girl, and the old duenna in evident fear of her imperious young mistress, trembled the more. "Quick," whispered Rafaela to Jack, "get under here." Rising, she seized him by an arm and partly led, partly pushed him to the chair upon which she had been sitting. It was a wicker chair, with wicker-latticed sides extending clear to the floor. Lifting it, she ordered Jack to kneel down and crouch into as small a space as possible. He complied. Then she clapped the chair over him. He was completely hidden, except in front, where the wicker latticing did not extend. Seating herself calmly in the chair, Rafaela so disposed her skirts that Jack could not be seen. Then she picked up her pen and sat as if just interrupted at her writing. The knocking on the door was repeated, louder this time, and the voice of the Don himself impatiently bade that the door be opened. Bending low so that Jack could hear her words, the girl whispered: "Have no fear. Trust me." To the duenna, she said: "Open the door. And if you betray me----" And she shot at Donna Ana a terrible glance, which caused the latter to cringe. Evidently, the duenna stood in considerable awe of her temperamental young mistress. The old woman unlocked the door and stepped back, revealing on the threshold Don Fernandez with several armed retainers at his back. "What does this mean?" he demanded, glaring at his daughter as he advanced a step or two into the room. "Locked doors at so early an hour?" "Why, papa, dear, we heard the shouts and several revolver shots," said his daughter. "Was it not natural for two lone women to lock their door?" "Humm!" The Don glanced quickly about the room. "Papa, what is the matter? What is the meaning of all this noise? Of those shots?" Rafaela anxiously inquired. "Some man impersonating one of my lieutenants gained entrance," said the Don. "I believe him a government agent. He may have come to attempt my life." "Oh, no, papa, dear," protested Rafaela, shocked. "Why, he--" Frantic lest she might betray herself and him, Jack reached forward cautiously and tapped the tiny ankle dangling before him. He was none too soon. Thus brought to a realization of her position, Rafaela checked the words. "What's that?" asked her father. "What did you say?" "Why, papa," she answered, "I was going to say he couldn't be so mean. To come here to kill you. Oh, no. That would be too terrible." "But I do believe it," affirmed the Don. "What do you know of how politics is carried on in our poor, distracted country? Tut, tut, you are just a girl. What I came to ask was whether the man had hidden here? We have searched all the rooms on this balcony, without success. Yet most certainly Pedro and Pancho"--indicating the armed men in the corridor--"saw him bound up the stairs." "Here?" said Rafaela. "Why, our door has been locked, as you see." Before Don Fernandez could retort, the report of distant rifle fire came to the ears of all in the room, followed by a growing fusillade as the sentries on the northern rim of the valley fell back before attack. The Don whirled around. "Hark," said he, and added with conviction: "The government troops are attacking. And they sent an assassin ahead of them. Well, he has been foiled. And they will be foiled, too." And without more ado he darted from the room, Pancho and Pedro obediently following at his heels. CHAPTER XXVIII THE FAIR TRAITRESS Rafaela leaped up and lifted her chair, permitting Jack to emerge from his unique hiding place. He was overcome with gratitude at the thought of what she had done for him, and hesitated to speak. "Speak," she said, frowning, and stamped her foot. "Tell me, is this true?" "What do you mean?" asked Jack in surprise. "That you are an assassin sent by that horrible President Obregon?" Jack was hurt, and showed his feelings. "I told you the truth," he said. "Oh, I want to believe you," cried the girl, twisting her hands. "But father was so positive." Donna Ana sidled close and whispered: "Shall I call your father? It is not too late." That decided Rafaela. "Nonsense," she declared, sharply, glaring at her duenna. "Cannot you see this young man is telling the truth? I," she declared proudly, "can tell a truthful person from a liar at once. And I declare to you this young man is truthful." Jack smothered a smile. The girl was as changeable as a weathercock. And calling him "young man" in that lofty tone, too. Why, she was little more than a youngster herself--couldn't be as old as he. "Come now," said the girl suddenly, seizing him by the hand. "We have no time to lose. Now is your opportunity." "Opportunity?" "Yes, yes"--impatiently. "While the government troops attack, you must release your father and escape." Jack was amazed. Would this surprising girl never cease astonishing him? "Do you mean you will help me--actually?" "Have I not said so?" asked Rafaela impatiently. "And it seems to me I have already been of some trifling aid--actually?" The sarcasm was not lost on Jack. But he ignored it. Finding he still held the hand she had extended when urging him to follow her, he squeezed it. "You're--you're fine," he said, enthusiastically. Rafaela tossed her head, smiling in superior fashion. "You are not a very accomplished courtier, Mr. Jack Hampton," she said, withdrawing her hand. Jack would have protested. He was rapidly falling under the spell of her charm. But she halted him with an imperious gesture. "We are wasting precious time," she said. "Come." Then, turning to Donna Ana, she said sharply: "You will stay here until I return. And if you betray me--" Again she made a threatening gesture, and again the old duenna cowered. Thereupon, the girl hastened from the room and Jack followed. Up the spiral stone stairway of the tower ran Rafaela, passing the first landing where burned an electric light. Jack was close at her heels. At length they reached the top landing, and stood before the single door there. It was of stout oak, heavy and ponderous. "This is your father's room," whispered Rafaela. So near to a successful conclusion of his adventure, Jack's heart beat so rapidly that once again he experienced that sensation of suffocation which had seized him on landing from the airplane. He tried the door knob. The barrier was locked. "Locked," he whispered. "What shall we do?" In the dim light on the landing, they stared at each other in dismay. Here was a contingency which had occurred to neither. The whispering, the careful trying of the door, the sound of their footsteps--these had aroused Mr. Hampton from his reading on the other side of the door. "Who's there?" he called sharply. Jack set his mouth close to the keyhole. "Dad," he whispered tensely. "It's Jack. Don't make a noise. I've come to rescue you." There was a moment of silence, then the sound of rapid footsteps crossing the room. "Jack?" Mr. Hampton also had stooped to the keyhole. "It can't be. Yet that voice! My boy, my boy. But how in the world did you come here?" "Too long to tell, Dad," whispered Jack. "But have you the key to this door?" "Key? No." "Then," said Jack, despairingly, "it looks as if we were balked at the end. This door is too stout to break down without bringing the enemy on us. It's thick and bound with iron straps besides." "Who is with you?" "Bob. No. I mean Miss Calomares. She's helping me." "This is too much for me," declared Mr. Hampton. "Dad, we'll have to break down the door. The government troops are attacking. Even if we do make a lot of noise, it may go unnoticed. Have you a heavy chair you can use?" "Yes," answered his father. "But, wait. Government troops attacking, hey? Then that is the meaning of those shots which caused Don Fernandez to leave me so hurriedly." "No, Dad, those first shots were when they sounded the alarm on discovering me." "They discovered you?" Mr. Hampton groaned in mock dismay. "Oh, this is too much. But, Jack, what I started to say was that as Don Fernandez dashed down the steps, I heard him drop something in his haste that rang on the stones. Maybe that was the key." "I'll look." Jack stood upright, and communicated to the impatient Rafaela what his father had said. She had been unable to hear. Fortunately, he carried an electric torch. Swinging this so that the light fell on the steps, he started downward. Before he had gone three steps, the girl's quick eyes saw the key gleam in the light. She snatched it up with an exclamation, turned, inserted it in the keyhole, and the door swung in. Jack leaped through the opening, and the tall and handsome man, to whom he bore so striking a resemblance, enfolded him in his arms. "My boy, my boy. I can hardly believe it." "But it's true, Dad." They drew apart and stood looking at each other. There was more than a suspicion of moisture in each pair of eyes. Mr. Hampton's gaze fell on Rafaela, with whom he had had a number of pleasant conversations during his captivity. He dropped a hand on her shoulder. "My dear girl," he said. "You never did a kinder deed. I hope you will not have cause to regret it." "Oh," said she with an arch smile. "Papa would be furious if he discovered what I have done. But I can manage him." The older man smiled. He had observed the managerial process at work. "But you must not delay," added Rafaela, anxiously. "Even now the firing seems to be farther away. My father keeps many soldiers here. And he is, doubtless, driving away the attacking party. You must go quickly before he returns, and while all is confusion." "She is right, Dad," said Jack. "Let's go. Anything you want to take with you?" "No, nothing. But how are we to escape, Jack? How did you arrive?" "I arrived by airplane," said Jack. "But whether we can get away by the same means is another matter." Mr. Hampton looked dazed. "The younger generation moves too fast for me," he said. "But will you please explain?" "It's a long story, Dad," said Jack, "and I haven't the time. But it's Bob's airplane. The fellows who kidnapped you stole the machine in Long Island several days before that. Well, Mr. Temple and the boys came out to New Mexico, and we recovered the plane and, and--well, there you are." "Yes, I see," said Mr. Hampton. "It's as clear as a New York fog. But it's enough to know that Bob--didn't you mention his name--is here with the machine. Let's go and find him." He started for the door. But at that moment Rafaela, who stood closer to it, halted him with upraised hand. "Listen," she whispered. Cautious footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs. "Quick, Jack," whispered Mr. Hampton, "you mustn't be seen. Nor you, Miss Calomares. Here, hide behind this bed. And he pushed the two behind the hangings of a great four-poster. Then removing the key from the outside of the door, he hurriedly but noiselessly swung the ponderous frame shut, and locked it on the inside. "Calomares won't recall losing the key," he said grimly to himself. "There may be a chance yet." He listened with his ear at the keyhole. The cautious footsteps mounted higher. They reached the landing. Then there was a low knock on the panel, and a voice called low and urgently: "Mr. Hampton. Mr. Hampton. This is Bob." CHAPTER XXIX THREE CHEERS FOR THE RADIO BOYS Mr. Hampton unlocked and opened the door, and greeted the big fellow as warmly as he had his own son. "Where's Jack?" asked Bob. "Did they capture him?" Jack, who was peeping from behind the four-poster, sprang into the room, and slapped his chum resoundingly on the back. "Thought you were to stick by the airplane," he said, with mock severity. Bob swung around, the worried look vanishing from his face. "Hurray," he said. "So they didn't get you after all? When I saw you punch that fellow I thought your goose was cooked." "Saw me punch him? Why, where were you?" "Oh, I had followed you," said Bob. Then he explained. "Then when the attack began," he added, "I flew around overhead until I saw my chance to return and land. I wasn't going to leave without you. Presently, the government troops were beaten at the north. That was only a feint on their part, anyhow, I believe, to engage the attention of the rebels. For at once, heavy shooting broke out farther down the valley. Sounded like the main body was attacking there. Then the rebels scooted down that way to repulse the new attack, and I took a chance and landed. Not a soul in sight. And here I am." Jack was speechless. But the look in his eyes betrayed his emotion. "Bob, I'm proud of you," said Mr. Hampton. "Well, let's hurry away before it is too late." Rafaela stepped from her place of concealment. "Aren't you going to say farewell?" she asked. Bob looked at her in astonishment. Mr. Hampton, with a twinkle in his eye, viewed Jack ardently. The latter advanced with extended hand. "Miss Calomares," he said, "I can't tell you how grateful I am. I hope we shall meet again." "Miss Calomares?" muttered Bob, under his breath, his eyes on the beautiful girl. "Jack certainly has moved fast. I don't get this." Mr. Hampton took pity on him. "Miss Calomares," he said, leading Bob forward. "This is my son's chum. He came with him tonight in his airplane." The girl held out her hand. Bob took it as in a daze. "Pinch me," he said, in an aside to Jack. All heard the remark, and laughed at Bob's mystification. "Come," said Mr. Hampton, and once more moved toward the door. Once more, however, his steps were arrested by a noise outside. This time they heard the shouts of many men approaching the house and crying "Viva, Calomares." "Too late," groaned Mr. Hampton. "They have driven off the attack, and are returning." Rafaela uttered an exclamation. "Oh, I must go to my room before papa discovers me here," she cried. She darted for the door, but paused to give them parting cheer. "Do not give up hope," she said. "They will drink a great deal, and then all will sleep very soundly. You may escape late tonight. Good-bye," and turning, she ran lightly down the steps. Jack's eyes followed. At the turning, she paused, looked back, and waved to him, then disappeared. "Now what will we do?" said Jack. "You boys hide behind the bed," said Mr. Hampton. "I'll close the door, but I won't lock it this time, for on second thought I believe if it were locked and Calomares came up to see me--as he frequently does before retiring--it would make him suspicious. I shall leave it unlocked, and then he will believe he left it so himself in his haste." "Dad," said Jack, "I have an idea." "What is it? Out with it." "Well, we are trapped here. Suppose we turn the tables." "What do you mean?" asked Bob. "Well, Dad," said Jack, turning to his father, "didn't you say Don Fernandez comes to call on you before retiring?" "Yes, we have become good companions. He guards me carefully, keeps me a prisoner for his own ends, but he is a cultured man and we have much in common." "Father says," asserted Bob, "that you are being held prisoner in order to make trouble between the United States and the Mexican government." "He is correct," approved Mr. Hampton. "Don Fernandez has not attempted to conceal from me that that is his desire. He sent a demand for a preposterous ransom, merely in order to precipitate action at Washington, and he has been wondering why no action was taken." "Well, that's what father thought," declared Bob. "So he has kept the matter of your being kidnapped a secret. Instead of appealing to our government, we set out to rescue you. Father says we must do our utmost to avert trouble between Mexico and the United States." "So that accounts for many things," said Mr. Hampton. "I'm glad to have them cleared up. But we are forgetting your idea, Jack. What is it?" "Simply that we capture Don Fernandez and make him release us all under a guarantee of safe conduct," said Jack. "You see," he added, "Bob and I are both armed, and we can do it." "Good for you, Jack," said Bob. "I believe it can be done," said Mr. Hampton. "And here," he added, listening, "comes our opportunity, if I am not mistaken. You boys get behind the four-poster and wait until I give you your cue." Noiselessly Mr. Hampton closed the door, as the boys went into hiding. Then the older man resumed his seat by the table, picked up his book, and appeared to be reading. Quick, light footsteps sounded on the landing outside. There was a pause, while Don Fernandez searched his pockets for the key to the door. Unable to find it, he turned as if to depart. To three pairs of ears, straining to hear his every movement, the interpretation was clear. He believed he had locked the door and lost the key and was about to depart. Mr. Hampton saved the situation by raising his voice, and calling: "Is that you, Don Fernandez? Will you not honor me by coming in? I am eager to learn what has occurred." The Don decided to try the door. To his surprise, it opened to his touch. "I must have forgotten to lock it in my haste," he muttered, and stepped into the room. "Government troops," he said, advancing, "They thought to surprise us but we have beaten them off decisively." He sat down heavily. "It has been strenuous work," he said. "But that is over. Now to find the assassin, if he has not already escaped." "Assassin?" queried Mr. Hampton, in genuine surprise. He had not been told the Don's belief regarding Jack. "Yes," said Don Fernandez, violently. "That miserable Obregon." And he proceeded to relate his version of Jack's arrival. "Oh, but you are mistaken," said Mr. Hampton, coolly. "That was no assassin, but my son. He came to attempt to rescue me." Don Fernandez leaped to his feet, as if shot upward by a spring. "Your son?" he cried. "Came to rescue you? Preposterous. Then, why are you here?" "Because," said Jack, stepping from hiding, with revolver leveled, "I wanted to meet you." "Yes, and so did I," said Bob, not to be outdone, as he emerged, also with leveled weapon, from the other side of the four-poster. Mr. Hampton quickly slipped the key into the lock of the door, turned it and drew back. Don Fernandez saw the action. He glared from one to the other of the three, and then sat down with a resigned shrug of the shoulders. "You wanted to meet me?" he said. "I am honored. But, Mr. Hampton, there is not only one son but two!" "Not exactly," said the American. "This lad"--laying a hand on Jack's shoulder--"is my son, the young man you pursued for a time tonight. This other"--placing his other hand on Bob's shoulder--"is my son's chum." "Well," said Don Fernandez, the faintest suggestion of a twinkle in his eye, "now that you have met me, as you desired, what have you to say?" "Just this," said Jack, boldly, "we want you to permit us to leave under safe conduct. We want to take father with us in Bob's airplane. Oh, yes, it was my chum's airplane which your men stole in Long Island. But we have gotten it back again." "So?" said Don Fernandez. "Well, nothing surprises me tonight. And where, may I ask, are Morales and Von Arnheim? I see you are wearing their clothes." "We have got them imprisoned," said Jack. "But we are in earnest, sir, about this. We are armed and have the upper hand, and we mean to have your protection. If you are armed, you had better give your weapon to father." "As your father very well knows," said the Don, "I never carry weapons. And now"--with grave courtesy--"if you will permit me, young sir, I would like to speak privately with your father." At a nod of agreement from his father, Jack withdrew to the door, followed by Bob, leaving the two older men in low-voiced conversation. They spoke animatedly, and to the anxious boys there came more than once a low chuckle of laughter from Don Fernandez while they could see Mr. Hampton beginning to smile. At length, Don Fernandez beckoned imperiously, and the boys approached. He regarded them with twinkling eyes, but it was Mr. Hampton who acted as spokesman. "Boys," said he, "Don Fernandez consents. But I do not believe he was influenced by fear for his life." Don Fernandez stood up between the two chums, and put an arm over the shoulder of each--or, rather, tried to, as they towered above him. "No, it was not fear," said he. "But Mr. Hampton has told me a little of what you have done, and I see it is useless to fight against Young America. You are fine fellows. If I had a son"--wistfully--"I would want him to be like you." CHAPTER XXX GOOD NEWS FOR ANXIOUS EARS "Now to call Father," said big Bob. He and Jack, escorted by several Mexicans of Don Fernandez' band who had been informed by the Don himself that the boys were friends who were to be treated with every respect, were approaching the radio station of the Calomares ranch. Jack was exuberant. Plans for the rescue of his father from the stronghold of the rebel leader had not worked out just as proposed. Yet the wild adventure upon which he and Bob had embarked had come to a successful conclusion, after all. And he was correspondingly elated. Jack and his father were close pals. And he knew that Bob and his father were the same. He threw an arm over the shoulder of his chum. "Your father will certainly be relieved," he said. "I imagine he has been sitting up there at the radio station on our ranch in New Mexico for hours, waiting to hear from you. I can just see him in there, walking up and down impatiently, with that bow-legged old cowboy, Dave Morningstar, tilted back in a chair, with his hat down over; his eyes, smoking and never making a move." "Won't he be delighted," said Bob. "Just won't he." "And Frank, too," said Jack, thinking of the third chum, left behind at the cave. "Good old Frank," said Bob, warmly. "We've got to tell him as soon as I've notified father." "He certainly put up some fight, I'll bet," said Jack, thinking of the hurried radio reaching them from the cave as they neared the Calomares ranch in their airplane hours before. "And maybe he was hurt in that fight with Morales. He said he licked the Mexican, but that was all we heard. You remember? His voice was broken off after that." "That's right," said Bob. "I hope nothing serious happened to him. What a shame it would be if he was hurt, while here we came through practically without a scratch." All this time they had been walking across the starlit landing field, where could be seen Bob's airplane, and now they drew near the brightly-lighted radio station. Entering the sending room they were confronted by Muller. That young German operator, whose perspicacity almost had caused their undoing and whom Jack earlier had floored with a blow on the chin, was sitting in a chair reading. He had returned to the station after the attack of the Mexican regulars had been beaten off. Muller jumped to his feet, surprise giving way to anger, but before he could draw and level the revolver swinging at his hip, one of the Mexican guards accompanying the boys pushed them aside and thrust himself forward. "None of that," he said in Spanish. "The General has commanded that these young Americanos be well treated. They are friends." "Friends," muttered Muller, sullenly, nevertheless withdrawing his hand from the revolver butt. "That wasn't a very friendly way to treat me awhile ago." He turned to Jack. "And why, if you are friends," he demanded, "do you two appear in the clothing of Herr von Arnheim and Captain Morales?" "A number of events have occurred," said Jack, quietly. "That is why. However, Don Fernandez has heard the tale, and that is sufficient. He has given orders personally to these soldiers that we shall be permitted to use the radio. That is why we are here." "Is that so?" demanded Muller of the Mexican guards. The spokesman of the pair nodded agreement. "The General has so commanded," he said. Grudgingly, Muller stepped aside. Here was a mystery, and he hated mysteries. Besides, these two youths were Americans. He was a German and although the war between their respective countries was at an end, he could not bring himself to entertain kindly feelings toward them. Like many Germans, he believed the United States responsible for the defeat of his fatherland in the World War. He was working in the ranks of Germans in Mexico to embroil the United States with that country. Such war, he believed, would strike a blow at the prestige of the hated Yankees. "If the General has commanded," he said, stepping aside, "go ahead." "Look here," said Jack, flushing at this grumpy attitude, but deciding to do the manly thing, nevertheless, and extending his hand, "let bygones be bygones." After a moment's hesitation, Muller shook hands. To do him justice, it is only fair to point out that he was sincere in his attitude toward Americans, but misled. "I haven't time to explain about that blow," said Jack, "but at the moment it was necessary. Matters have changed since then. It was nothing personal." "Very well," said Muller, his grumpiness beginning to disappear beneath the charm of Jack's manner. "Say no more. Now what is it you want? Perhaps I can help you." "We want to use the radio," said Jack, noting Bob's growing impatience at their delay. "What station do you want to call?" "The Hampton ranch," interrupted Bob, who decided it was time to bring this conversation to an end. He was in a hurry to talk with his father. "Are you calling Rollins?" This reminder of the erstwhile traitor at the Hampton ranch brought both boys to a realization that Muller was familiar with the manner of calling their station, as undoubtedly he had handled or conducted radio conversations with Rollins in the past. "No, not Rollins," said Bob, shortly. It was all right for Jack to shake hands with Muller if he wanted to. Jack and Muller had been active opponents, and such an act was only sportsmanlike under the circumstances. But Bob disliked the young German on sight. "Just let me at the phone," he said, "and turn on the juice." "Very well." Muller turned stiffly and entered the power plant adjacent, while Bob in a fever adjusted the headpiece. As the hum of machinery sounded from the power plant, Jack laid a hand on Bob's arm. "Look here, Bob. Wait a minute." Bob regarded him inquiringly, his fingers reaching for the knobs on the instrument box before him, preparatory to sending out his signal call. "What is it, now?" "Well, you know old Frank will have his ear glued to the receiver at the cave. Suppose you call your father, but tell Frank to listen in and not interrupt." "Right," said Bob. "Well, here goes." And he began calling the Hampton ranch. CHAPTER XXXI CALM AFTER THE STORM Meanwhile, as Jack had foreseen, Mr. Temple waited at the radio plant at the Hampton ranch with ill-concealed impatience. Dave Morningstar, hat pulled down over his eyes, sat in a chair tilted back against the wall, watching him from beneath the brim. The only signs of life about the ex-cowboy turned mechanic were the occasional movements of the eyes, and the occasional refilling of his pipe, from which lazy streamers of smoke now and again floated upward. All the evening these two had held watch. And, as hour after hour passed, with no word from the boys, Mr. Temple's anxiety rose to a fever. He condemned himself for ever having given his consent to his son and Jack starting upon so foolhardy an expedition as that of attempting to rescue Jack's father from the rebel headquarters and fly to safety with him in Bob's airplane. Surely, he thought, the boys long since would have reached the ranch and made their departure. They had promised to call him by radio from the airplane the moment they started on their return flight. From their failure to do so he argued the worst. Their expedition must have come to grief, probably even now they were prisoners, perhaps-- But he shuddered to think of the alternative. He would not let himself consider that possibility. In desperation he turned to Dave Morningstar. "Isn't there something we can do?" he asked imploringly. The old ex-cowboy took his pipe from his mouth, spat deliberately to one side, then brought the forelegs of his chair to the floor. "Le's see," he said. "I been a'most asleep. Le's see. What say to calling the cave?" Mr. Temple eagerly grasped at the proposal. "Yes, certainly," he said. "Why haven't I thought of that before? Perhaps Frank has heard something." He did not pause to consider that the party at the cave in all likelihood was little better prepared than he with information. The mere idea of doing something, of taking some action that would break up this horrible spell of waiting, appealed to him in his excited state. But after hearing from Frank an account not only of the fight the latter had had to recover the cave, after once having been dispossessed, but also of the attempt to warn the Calomares ranch ahead of the boys' coming which Morales had made, he began to wish he never had called Frank. "Think of it," he said to Dave Morningstar, after explaining the situation. "In all likelihood all that clash of conversation in the air put them on guard at the Calomares ranch. They were led to suspect all was not well. And then when the boys landed they were captured. That can be the only reason for our failure to hear from Bob and Jack." Dave attempted sympathetic protest, but Mr. Temple shook his head and groaned. "No, something has happened to them," he said. "Oh, I was a fool to let them go. I'll never forgive myself. If only they were not injured. If only they were merely made prisoner, I----" "Hey," said Dave, "look at that signal bulb. Somebody's calling us." "It's only Frank, calling back, I suppose," groaned Mr. Temple. But Dave took up a headpiece and began adjusting the tuner knob. In a moment he tapped Mr. Temple on the bowed shoulder. "Listen here," he said, and clapped the headpiece over Mr. Temple's ears. Similar anxieties to those ruling at the Hampton radio station had been in control at the cave during the evening hours. Frank had been frightfully anxious as the hours wore on with no word from the boys. The flight to the ranch was a short one of only fifty miles. Surely, if they had been successful, Jack and Bob long ere this would have called him by radio in accordance with their agreement. The poor boy stamped up and down the cave in such a fret that Tom Bodine and Roy Stone made repeated efforts to calm him, but without success. They began seriously to fear the effect of this anxiety upon his system, already fevered by the several hard fights through which he had gone in the last thirty-six hours. Mr. Temple's call had done nothing to assuage Frank's anxiety. If anything it had increased it. As he put aside the headpiece, he looked so woebegone that Tom Bodine went up to him and laid an arm over his shoulder. "Now, look here, kid," he began. But before he could proceed, Frank's glance caught the light flashing in the signal bulb, and he leaped to the headpiece and microphone with a glad cry. * * * * * "Father, we are all right. Mr. Hampton is freed." At the cave in the mountains of Old Mexico and at the Hampton ranch across the border in American territory, these welcome words uttered in Bob's well-known voice were received with delight. Across mountain and desert sped the message by radio. Modern science making possible the utilization of the forces of the air brought this quick relief to an anxiety that otherwise would have continued for hours at the least, until Bob and Jack could have flown back to the ranch. But neither Mr. Temple nor Frank took that thought into consideration. To them radio telephony was an accepted fact, part of their daily equipment for carrying on life. What filled their minds to the exclusion of all else was, at first, a sense of gratitude and thankfulness for the lucky outcome of the adventurous mission of the two boys, and, in the second place, a desire to learn the details. "Now don't interrupt, Frank," said Bob. "Just listen while I talk to father, and you can hear all about it." Under this admonition Frank ceased the flood of eager questions he had loosed and confined himself to listening. As the story of the remarkable series of adventures undergone by Jack and Bob at the Calomares ranch poured through the air, however, Frank, at times, could not curb his quick tongue, and many an exclamation he let slip. His hand, placed across the mouth of the microphone, however, acted to prevent these exclamations from interrupting the flow of Bob's explanation. When Bob had finished his account, Jack took a turn. And at the recital of his adventures, Frank began to laugh. Removing his hand from the microphone, he interrupted his chum with the question: "Now, who's the lady-killer?" Jack, who at the moment, was telling of the part played by Senorita Rafaela, blushed violently and grew indignant. Bob, standing near, looked at him speculatively. Was old Jack hard hit by that little Spanish beauty? Ordinarily, Jack would have answered Frank's joking in kind. But to grow indignant! Bob feared his chum was smitten. For a long time the three-cornered conversation was carried on through the air, Mr. Temple and Frank both being eager to hear every detail and compelling Jack and Bob to repeat their stories several times. Finally, drawn by the long absence of the boys, Mr. Hampton appeared at the radio station accompanied by Don Fernandez himself, and he and Mr. Temple held a brief conversation. At length it was decided that the next day Mr. Hampton, with Bob and Jack, would fly back to the Hampton ranch in New Mexico. Frank, Tom and Roy Stone were to ride for the border at the same time, after another night's sleep at the cave. Morales and Von Arnheim, to whom Don Fernandez spoke personally, were apprised of the turn of affairs, and were told to stay at the cave, which was plentifully provisioned, until a relief party from headquarters could reach them with mounts. Then "good nights" were said, and at their three different points our respective characters retired for the night, well pleased with the outcome of their adventures. CHAPTER XXXII MORE ADVENTURE AHEAD "Farewell, Senor Jack Hampton." Jack clasped the sprightly Spanish girl's hand, reluctant to release it. It was noon of the next day. Brilliant sunshine flooded the landing field of the Calomares ranch. Bob already had clambered into the pilot's seat of the airplane. Mr. Hampton stood to one side, exchanging farewells with Don Fernandez. "Not farewell, Senorita," said Jack, ardently. "We must meet again." The girl shrugged. "But where?" said she. "Will you come back to capture our castle again?" "No," said Jack, grinning. "But," he added, significantly, "I may come back--to capture one of its inhabitants." Low though his tone was, the words reached the ears of Donna Ana, the ever-present duenna, and she glared at him. This was no way for a brash young Americano to be speaking to the daughter of the great Don Fernandez. Jack caught the glance and laughed. He turned to the duenna and extended his hand. "Farewell, Donna Ana," he said. "It's been such a pleasure to meet you." The wizened old duenna was nonplussed. She did not know whether to resent this pleasantry or be gratified by it. Mechanically she accepted Jack's extended hand. At that moment, Bob called to him. Jack turned. Mr. Hampton already had entered the airplane. They were waiting for him. Once more he seized Rafaela's hand. "Remember," he said, so low that only her ears could hear his words, "you haven't seen the last of me." She cast him an arch glance. "Senor Jack is improving," she whispered. "He will be a courtier yet." Then Jack climbed into his seat. A mechanic started the propeller, the machine began to bump over the ground, and presently it was in the air and climbing. Bob spiralled upward until they were high above the ranch, and the figures below seemed little manikins. Jack believed he could distinguish Rafaela waving a lacy handkerchief, and leaned far over the side to wave in reply. Then they were off, zooming through the air, straight as an arrow for the international boundary and the Hampton ranch beyond. The flight was brief. Bob covered the distance of 150 miles in considerably less than two hours. "Look here," he said to his father, after greetings had been exchanged, and the latter had thumped his big son so hard and often that Bob dodged when further "love taps" came his way. "I'm not going to stay here to be pounded into a jelly. Tell you what, father, that's a long ride up here from the cave. Frank started early this morning, but he cannot arrive for another day. Suppose I go back and pick up him and Roy Stone, and leave Tom to bring in the horses?" Reluctant though he was to let his son depart so soon after regaining him, Mr. Temple was persuaded, and Bob set off. Far down in Old Mexico, back trailing over the route they had followed in entering the country, he saw three horsemen leading a fourth animal, and on approaching close, saw they were his friends. Landing near them, Bob called an explanation of his mission. Roy Stone demurred at the proposal. "Much obliged for the offer," he said, "but I'll ride along with Tom Bodine, if it's all the same to you. I'm in no hurry to get anywhere, and you fellows will be having your own reunion at your ranch. Take your chum with you, but leave Tom and me. We'll be in with the horses sooner or later. Each of us will have a spare mount now, and it'll be an easy trip. Anyhow, I never did like those airplanes." "Same here," said Tom Bodine, staring with awe at the machine. "You couldn't get me in that thing on a bet." Frank, accordingly, relinquished the reins of his horse to Tom Bodine, and with "good-byes" to his friends clambered into the airplane with Bob. Roy Stone obligingly spun the propeller, an accomplishment with which his association with Von Arnheim had made him familiar, and once more the plane soared upward and headed across the border. At the ranch that night it was a jolly party that gathered around the board, with Mr. Hampton, Mr. Temple and the three boys. Gabby Pete, talkative as ever, was bursting with desire for information about all their adventures. He had prepared a surprisingly good dinner in honor of the occasion. Rollins alone was not present. When told of Mr. Hampton's impending arrival, he had begged Mr. Temple to let him go to a distant oil well for several days until Mr. Hampton could be informed in detail of his treachery in the past and the reason for it. This Mr. Temple had agreed to. Back and forth across the table flew the conversation and, when the meal was at an end, all continued to sit around the table until a late hour. During the weeks that followed Bob and Frank spent many enjoyable hours rambling on horseback over the surrounding country and taking more extended trips by airplane. The love for the country of which Jack had spoken on arrival, seized them, too. The bright hot days succeeded by cool nights--for in New Mexico the air cools immediately upon the setting of the sun--appealed powerfully to boys reared on the seacoast. The absence of raw winds and fogs especially appealed to them. The weather was something which could be counted upon. Every day was fair. So passed the weeks, with the boys under Jack's pilotage travelling far and wide, scouting through the mountains to discover new beauties of scenery, making visits to the ancient Spanish ruins at Santa Fe, attending a rodeo at Gallup, to which came cowboys and cowgirls from a vast stretch of territory to perform hair-raising feats of horsemanship and exhibit well-nigh miraculous skill with the lasso. A month after their advent, and when their summer vacation was not yet half spent, Mr. Temple at dinner one night announced that before ending his prolonged vacation from business--the first he had taken in ten years--he planned to go to San Francisco to consult with the manager of his western exporting office. "Why, father," said Bob. "I've always wanted to see the city by the Golden Gate, and I know the fellows feel the same way about it. What do you say to taking us with you? We won't get in your way. And you can drop us here on your way back East." Smilingly, Mr. Temple gazed at the faces of the three eager boys. Jack and Frank enthusiastically echoed their chum's appeal. "Yes, do, Mr. Temple," said Jack. "That is, if we wouldn't be in your way." "Uncle, I'm crazy to see San Francisco," said Frank. "Well, it's a good deal changed from the days of the Forty-Niners," said Mr. Temple, smiling. "You may have your hopes too high, and may be disappointed." "Oh, come now, father," said Bob. "If you're going to be there only a week, it'll be worth while for us." "Well, that's the length of time I planned to stay," said Mr. Temple, thoughtfully. "But I'll be pretty busy while I'm there. Do you boys feel you can keep out of mischief if left to yourselves?" Mr. Hampton interrupted. "I reckon they can, Temple," he said. "They saved the day for me. I'm beginning to think they are a pretty self-reliant lot. If you can see your way to doing so, take them along. The trip will be a fine experience." "All right, boys," said Mr. Temple. "But you'll have to leave your airplane. If you are going to see San Francisco, you can't do it very well by airplane. And, anyhow, I wouldn't care to see you tackle the Rockies." "All right, father," agreed Bob. "We'll be too busy seeing the sights to want the plane, anyhow. When do we start?" "In two days," said his father. With this we take leave of the three chums, whose adventures on the Mexican border have come to so successful a conclusion. But in the next story of "The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty" we shall follow their further adventures after they reach the city by the Golden Gate--adventures fully as thrilling as those on the Mexican border, in which they become drawn into the plots of an international gang of smugglers engaged in bringing Chinese coolies into the United States in defiance of the Exclusion Laws. THE END. [Illustration: book.] The Radio Boys Series BY GERALD BRECKENRIDGE A new series of copyright titles for boys of all ages. Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH * * * * * THE RADIO BOYS ON THE MEXICAN BORDER THE RADIO BOYS ON SECRET SERVICE DUTY THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE REVENUE GUARDS THE RADIO BOYS' SEARCH FOR THE INCA'S TREASURE THE RADIO BOYS RESCUE THE LOST ALASKA EXPEDITION * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: book.] The Ranger Boys Series BY CLAUDE H. LA BELLE A new series of copyright titles telling of the adventures of three boys with the Forest Rangers in the state of Maine. Handsome Cloth Binding. PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH. * * * * * THE RANGER BOYS TO THE RESCUE THE RANGER BOYS FIND THE HERMIT THE RANGER BOYS AND THE BORDER SMUGGLERS THE RANGER BOYS OUTWIT THE TIMBER THIEVES THE RANGER BOYS AND THEIR REWARD * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York [Illustration: book.] The Boy Troopers Series BY CLAIR W. HAYES Author of the Famous "Boy Allies" Series. The adventures of two boys with the Pennsylvania State Police. All Copyrighted Titles. Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs. PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH. * * * * * THE BOY TROOPERS ON THE TRAIL THE BOY TROOPERS IN THE NORTHWEST THE BOY TROOPERS ON STRIKE DUTY THE BOY TROOPERS AMONG THE WILD MOUNTAINEERS * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York [Illustration: book.] The Golden Boys Series BY L.P. WYMAN, PH.D. Dean of Pennsylvania Military College. A new series of instructive copyright stories for boys of High School Age. Handsome Cloth Binding. PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH. * * * * * THE GOLDEN BOYS AND THEIR NEW ELECTRIC CELL THE GOLDEN BOYS AT THE FORTRESS THE GOLDEN BOYS IN THE MAINE WOODS THE GOLDEN BOYS WITH THE LUMBER JACKS THE GOLDEN BOYS ON THE RIVER DRIVE * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York [Illustration: book.] The Boy Allies (Registered in the United States Patent Office) With the Navy BY ENSIGN ROBERT L. DRAKE * * * * * For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH Frank Chadwick and Jack Templeton, young American lads, meet each other in an unusual way soon after the declaration of war. Circumstances place them on board the British cruiser, "The Sylph," and from there on, they share adventures with the sailors of the Allies. Ensign Robert L. Drake, the author, is an experienced naval officer, and he describes admirably the many exciting adventures of the two boys. THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL; or, Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet. THE BOY ALLIES UNDER TWO FLAGS; or, Sweeping the Enemy from the Sea. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON; or, The Naval Raiders of the Great War. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE TERROR OF THE SEA; or, The Last Shot of Submarine D-16. THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE SEA; or, The Vanishing Submarine. THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC; or, Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar. THE BOY ALLIES AT JUTLAND; or, The Greatest Naval Battle of History. THE BOY ALLIES WITH UNCLE SAM'S CRUISERS; or, Convoying the American Army Across the Atlantic. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE SUBMARINE D-32; or, The Fall of the Russian Empire. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE VICTORIOUS FLEETS; or, The Fall of the German Navy. * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: book.] The Boy Allies (Registered in the United States Patent Office) With the Army BY CLAIR W. HAYES * * * * * For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH In this series we follow the fortunes of two American lads unable to leave Europe after war is declared. They meet the soldiers of the Allies, and decide to cast their lot with them. Their experiences and escapes are many, and furnish plenty of good, healthy action that every boy loves. THE BOY ALLIES AT LIEGE; or, Through Lines of Steel. THE BOY ALLIES ON THE FIRING LINE; or, Twelve Days Battle Along the Marne. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE COSSACKS; or, A Wild Dash Over the Carpathians. THE BOY ALLIES IN THE TRENCHES; or, Midst Shot and Shell Along the Aisne. THE BOY ALLIES IN GREAT PERIL; or, With the Italian Army In the Alps. THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALKAN CAMPAIGN; or, The Struggle to Save a Nation. THE BOY ALLIES ON THE SOMME; or, Courage and Bravery Rewarded. THE BOY ALLIES AT VERDUN; or, Saving France from the Enemy. THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE STARS AND STRIPES; or, Leading the American Troops to the Firing Line. THE BOY ALLIES WITH HAIG IN FLANDERS; or, The Fighting Canadians of Vimy Ridge. THE BOY ALLIES WITH PERSHING IN FRANCE; or, Over the Top at Chateau Thierry. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE GREAT ADVANCE; or, Driving the Enemy Through France and Belgium. THE BOY ALLIES WITH MARSHAL FOCH; or, The Closing Days of the Great World War. * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: book.] The Boy Scouts Series BY HERBERT CARTER For Boys 12 to 16 Years All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH New Stories of Camp Life * * * * * THE BOY SCOUTS' FIRST CAMPFIRE; or, Scouting with the Silver Fox Patrol. THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE BLUE RIDGE; or, Marooned Among the Moonshiners. THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country. THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The New Test for the Silver Fox Patrol. THE BOY SCOUTS THROUGH THE BIG TIMBER; or, The Search for the Lost Tenderfoot. THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES; or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver Mine. THE BOY SCOUTS ON STURGEON ISLAND; or, Marooned Among the Game-Fish Poachers. THE BOY SCOUTS DOWN IN DIXIE; or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp. THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE BATTLE OF SARATOGA; A story of Burgoyne's Defeat in 1777. THE BOY SCOUTS ALONG THE SUSQUEHANNA; or, The Silver Fox Patrol Caught in a Flood. THE BOY SCOUTS ON WAR TRAILS IN BELGIUM; or, Caught Between Hostile Armies. THE BOY SCOUTS AFOOT IN FRANCE; or, With The Red Cross Corps at the Marne. * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: book.] Our Young Aeroplane Scout Series (Registered in the United States Patent Office) BY HORACE PORTER * * * * * For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH A Series of Remarkable Stories of the Adventures of Two Boy Flyers in The European War Zone. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN FRANCE AND BELGIUM; or, Saving The Fortunes of the Trouvilles. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN GERMANY. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN RUSSIA, or, Lost on the Frozen Steppes. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN TURKEY; or, Bringing the Light to Yusef. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ENGLAND; or, Twin Stars In the London Sky Patrol. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ITALY; or, Flying with the War Eagles of the Alps. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT VERDUN; or, Driving Armored Meteors Over Flaming Battle Fronts. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE BALKANS; or, Wearing the Red Badge of Courage Among Warring Legions. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE WAR ZONE; or, Serving Uncle Sam in the Great Cause of the Allies. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS FIGHTING TO THE FINISH; or Striking Hard Over the Sea for the Stars and Stripes. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT THE MARNE; or, Hurrying the Huns from Allied Battle Planes. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN AT THE VICTORY; or, Speedy High Flyers Smashing the Hindenburg Line. * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: book.] The Jack Lorimer Series BY WINN STANDISH For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH * * * * * CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER; or, The Young Athlete of Millvale High. Jack Lorimer is a fine example of the all-around American high-school boys. His fondness for clean, honest sport of all kinds will strike a chord of sympathy among athletic youths. JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS; or, Sports on Land and Lake. There is a lively story woven in with the athletic achievements, which are all right, since the book has been O.K'd. by Chadwick, the Nestor of American Sporting journalism. JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAYS; or, Millvale High in Camp. It would be well not to put this book into a boy's hands until the chores are finished, otherwise they might be neglected. JACK LORIMER'S SUBSTITUTE; or, The Acting Captain of the Team. On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling, and tobogganing. There is a good deal of fun in this book and plenty of action. JACK LORIMER, FRESHMAN; or, From Millvale High to Exmouth. Jack and some friends he makes crowd innumerable happenings into an exciting freshman year at one of the leading Eastern colleges. The book is typical of the American College boy's life, and there is a lively story, interwoven with feats on the gridiron, hockey, basketball and other clean honest sports for which Jack Lorimer stands. * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: book.] The Girl Scouts Series BY EDITH LAVELL A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wide experience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia. Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs. PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH. * * * * * THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLEN'S SCHOOL THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP THE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURN THE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIP THE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALS For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York [Illustration: book.] Marjorie Dean College Series BY PAULINE LESTER Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series. Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High School Series will be eager to read this new series, as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine in these stories. All Clothbound. Copyright Titles. PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH. * * * * * MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SOPHOMORE MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE JUNIOR MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SENIOR * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York [Illustration: book.] Marjorie Dean High School Series BY PAULINE LESTER Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series These are clean, Wholesome stones that will be of great interest to all girls of high school age. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH * * * * * MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: book.] The Camp Fire Girls Series By HILDEGARD G. FREY * * * * * A Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH * * * * * THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go Camping. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, The Magic Garden. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along the Road That Leads the Way. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, The House of the Open Door. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven Cedars. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; or, Glorify Work. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure at Carver House. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; or, Down Paddles. * * * * * For Sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: book.] The Blue Grass Seminary Girls Series BY CAROLYN JUDSON BURNETT * * * * * For Girls 12 to 16 Years All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH * * * * * Splendid stories of the Adventures of a Group of Charming Girls. THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' VACATION ADVENTURES; or, Shirley Willing to the Rescue. THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS; or, A Four Weeks' Tour with the Glee Club. THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS; or, Shirley Willing on a Mission of Peace. THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER; or, Exciting Adventures on a Summerer's Cruise Through the Panama Canal. * * * * * [Illustration: book.] The Mildred Series BY MARTHA FINLEY * * * * * For Girls 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH A Companion Series to the famous "Elsie" books by the same author. MILDRED KEITH MILDRED AT ROSELAND MILDRED AND ELSIE MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE MILDRED AT HOME MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER * * * * * For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A.L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration: And then quite suddenly the listening expectant boys heard Jack's voice speaking to them just as plainly as if he stood in the room. (_The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border_) _Page 7_] 
27455	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustration. See 27455-h.htm or 27455-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/7/4/5/27455/27455-h/27455-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/7/4/5/27455/27455-h.zip) The Radio Boys Series (Trademark Registered) THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION Or Making Good in the Wireless Room by ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of The Radio Boys' First Wireless, The Radio Boys at Ocean Point Ralph of the Roundhouse, Ralph on the Army Train With Foreword by Jack Binns Illustrated [Illustration: THE TIME CAME FOR JOE TO GIVE HIS RECITATIONS. The Radio Boys at the Sending Station. Page 209] New York Grosset & Dunlap Publishers Made in the United States of America * * * * * * BOOKS FOR BOYS BY ALLEN CHAPMAN 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. THE RADIO BOYS SERIES (Trademark Registered) THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS Or Winning the Ferberton Prize THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT Or The Message that Saved the Ship THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION Or Making Good in the Wireless Room THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS Or The Midnight Call for Assistance THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE Or Solving a Wireless Mystery THE RAILROAD SERIES RALPH OF THE ROUNDHOUSE Or Bound to Become a Railroad Man RALPH IN THE SWITCH TOWER Or Clearing the Track RALPH ON THE ENGINE Or The Young Fireman of the Limited Mail RALPH ON THE OVERLAND EXPRESS Or The Trials and Triumphs of a Young Engineer RALPH THE TRAIN DESPATCHER Or The Mystery of the Pay Car RALPH ON THE ARMY TRAIN Or The Young Railroader's Most Daring Exploit GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, New York COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY GROSSET & DUNLAP The Radio Boys at the Sending Station * * * * * * FOREWORD BY JACK BINNS Since this volume was written an epoch making invention has been announced to the radio world. It is the super-regenerative system developed by E. H. Armstrong, the wizard of Columbia University. This system is bound to revolutionize the art of wireless communication in every branch, and is in itself the most important discovery since Marconi put into operation the first crude form of wireless apparatus. I am mentioning this fact because there is the romance of youth overcoming every obstacle placed before it tied up in the history of Armstrong's remarkable achievements, and the story of this romance should stand forward as an incentive to American boyhood. Fifteen years ago when radio amateurs first began to send out wireless telegraph messages, the federal authorities in Washington were at a loss to devise some means that would regulate them. It was then that a bright official conversant with radio said: "Put 'em down below 200 meters, and they'll soon die out." He knew perfectly well that it was almost impossible to operate on those low wave-lengths with the apparatus in existence at that time--hence his sardonic proposal. The amateurs, however, refused to "die out." Faced with the inexorable regulation, they set to work to devise apparatus which would operate successfully. Among them was E. H. Armstrong, a youth who at that time was attending Columbia. It was a really lucky thing for the world that the official in Washington thought of his clever scheme to kill the amateurs, because it provided just the incentive needed to set Armstrong to work. The result has been that within ten years he has produced three epoch-making inventions, any one of which would have been a remarkable life achievement in itself. Such, briefly is the story of one radio boy overcoming difficulties, but of course in this case it is a real story. It emphasizes the fact that even in these highly developed and organized times there is always an opportunity for boys to improve upon existing conditions, and since this is the theme of the adventures of "The Radio Boys," I am very glad to write the foreword to the series. [Signature: Jack Binns] CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I The Collision 9 II To the Rescue 19 III At the Wireless Station 31 IV Radio Plans 46 V Back from the Beach 55 VI Radio's Long Arm 62 VII Learning to Send 69 VIII A Rattling Fight 77 IX Larry Reappears 85 X A Terrible Accident 94 XI Light Out of Darkness 102 XII A Glad Announcement 113 XIII Full of Promise 119 XIV An Impromptu Feast 125 XV Getting a Trial 135 XVI Speed 144 XVII Vaulting Ambition 151 XVIII New Hope 160 XIX Listening In 166 XX The Wonderful Science 173 XXI The Vanishing Crooks 178 XXII Broadcasting Marvels 185 XXIII The First Venture 197 XXIV Winning Out 204 XXV Solving the Mystery 215 THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION CHAPTER I THE COLLISION "Isn't it a grand and glorious feeling?" exclaimed Bob Layton, a tall stalwart lad of fifteen, as he stretched himself out luxuriously on the warm sands of the beach at Ocean Point and pulled his cap a little further over his eyes to keep out the rays of the sun. "I'll tell the world it is," agreed Joe Atwood, his special chum, as he burrowed lazily into the hollow he had scooped out for himself. "You don't have to put up any argument to prove it, Bob. I admit it from the start." "Same here," chimed in Herb Fennington, sprawled out in a fashion which if certainly inelegant was quite as certainly comfortable. "Take it from me, it's great. I could die loafing like this." "Seems to be unanimous," remarked Bob, "although I haven't heard Jimmy's musical voice mixing into the conversation and he's usually right there with the talk. I wonder----" Just then he was interrupted by a vigorous snore proceeding from a fourth member of the group, a fat round-faced boy slightly younger than the others, who was lying on his back a few feet away. The boys broke into a laugh. "There's the answer," chuckled Herb. "Trust Jimmy to go to sleep on the slightest provocation. There's only one thing he can do better, and that is eating." "He sure is no slouch at either," laughed Joe. "The seven sleepers of Ephesus had nothing on Jimmy. And if he went into a doughnut-eating contest, I'd back him to my last dime." "It's no wonder that's he's tired," said Bob, coming to the defense of the unconscious Jimmy. "If either of you fellows had had the tussle he had with the waves that night when he was hanging on to the broken bridge expecting every minute to be his last, you wouldn't be feeling any too lively, you can bet your boots." "Right you are," admitted Herb. "That was a tough fight. It makes the cold chills run up and down my back now when I think of it. I don't think there'll be many times in Jimmy's life when he'll come so near death and yet side-step it." "You were pretty close to it yourself, Bob," put in Joe. "Your chances of getting by didn't seem to be worth a plugged nickel. Of course you're stronger than Jimmy and could have kept up longer if you'd been swept away, but I don't believe there's any one living that could have bucked that torrent." "I'll admit that I felt mighty good when I got my feet on solid ground again," said Bob. "There's no denying that that was a pretty strenuous night, what with fighting the waves and Dan Cassey too. But we beat them both and came through all right." "Talking of Cassey," said Joe, "I saw the rascal this morning when I went into the town to attend to a little business for my father. I wasn't far from the jail and I dropped in to see just what arrangements had been made for his trial. The warden was glad to see me--you know he's been pretty strong for us since we saved the police the work of getting their claws on Cassey--and as he was just about to make the rounds he asked me to go along. So I had a chance to see Cassey behind the bars." "I suppose he was glad to see you?" remarked Bob, with a grin. "Tickled to death," laughed Joe. "I'm just as popular with him as poison ivy. He got just purple with rage and shook the bars of his cell as though he were trying to break them to get at me. He tried to tell me what he thought of me, but he stuttered so much that he couldn't get it out. I suppose he's stuttering yet." "It's not surprising that he's sore at us," said Bob. "That's twice we've put a spoke in his wheel; once when he tried to swindle Miss Berwick in the matter of that mortgage and again when he blackjacked Harvey and looted his safe. We sure have been a jinx for him." "And he isn't the only one who has it in for us," said Joe, as he caught sight of three boys of about their own age who were passing by, and who in passing cast looks of dislike on the little group on the sands. "There's a sweet bunch--I don't think." The others followed the direction of Joe's glance and had no trouble in agreeing with him. "That Buck Looker is sure bad medicine," remarked Bob. "And Lutz and Mooney who hang out with him are just about as bad. They're all tarred with the same brush." "They're a blot on the landscape--or perhaps I should say seascape," put in Herb. "Where every prospect pleases, And only man is vile," chanted Joe. "Do you notice how everybody steers clear of them? Outside of each other, not one of them has a friend in the whole colony." "It's a wonder we haven't had a run in with them before this," ruminated Herb. "I guess Buck doesn't want any of our game," Joe rejoined. "He's already had one licking from Bob, and it was only the butting in of Mr. Preston that saved him from getting another one from me. But I have a hunch that he'll get it yet. My knuckles are itching, and that's a bad sign--for Buck." "You'll get the chance all right," predicted Herb. "Ten to one they're framing up some low-down game to play on us whenever they find an opening. Maybe they'll try to put our radio set out of commission, just as they stole Jimmy's set and tried to wreck Bob's aerial." "They're welcome to try," said Bob carelessly. "Though they ought to be cured of that idea when they remember how they flivvered the other times. But talking of radio reminds me that we ought to get busy with that lightning arrester we were talking about." "What has lightning done that it ought to be arrested?" joked Herb. For answer, Bob scooped up a handful of sand and threw it at the scoffer. Herb ducked adroitly and the sand passed over his head and fell full on Jimmy's mouth, which at the moment happened to be open. There was a terrific coughing and sputtering, as Jimmy came up to a sitting posture with a quickness that was quite foreign to his nature. "Who--who the mischief did that?" he demanded, as soon as he could speak, glaring indignantly from one to the other of his comrades, who at first had been alarmed for fear he would choke but now were convulsed with laughter. "I did," confessed Bob, as he tried to restrain his untimely mirth. "But I didn't mean to, old scout. Herb here had just gotten off one of his horrible jokes, and I was trying to make the punishment fit the crime. I'm awfully sorry." "You look it," snorted Jimmy, still trying to get the remainder of the sand out of his mouth. "You look as though your heart was broken, sitting there and grinning like a monkey." "Cross my heart and hope to die, I didn't mean to," declared Bob. "I wouldn't have disturbed your innocent slumbers for anything in the world." "Never mind, Jimmy," put in Herb. "They say that every one has got to eat a peck of dirt before they die, and you might as well start in early." "I guess I got my whole peck then," grumbled Jimmy, as he rubbed his mouth vigorously with his handkerchief. "I feel like a chicken with sand in its craw." "You ought to feel pretty good then," replied Herb, "for they eat it because they like it." "You're the cause of it all," said Jimmy. "When you try to be funny again, do it when I'm not around. I'll bet the joke was a rotten one, anyway." "Shall I tell it to you?" asked Herb hopefully. "Not unless you're prepared to die," replied Jimmy, and Herb forebore to add insult to injury. "Now as to this lightning arrester," resumed Bob, leaving Jimmy to regain his equanimity. "We've got to put it up, for the regulations require it and we ought to have done it before." Jimmy pricked up his ears but said nothing. "I don't think there's really much need of it," objected Joe. "It's too nice an afternoon to work. We've got a lightning rod on the cottage anyway." "It isn't so much for the cottage as the set," said Bob. "If the lightning got into the receiving set it would make short work of it. Now here's the kind of lightning switch we'll have to have," and he launched into an earnest discussion of a type that was required by the radio regulations. Jimmy took no part in the discussions, but they attributed this to a touch of grouchiness and gave him time to get over it. Bob after a while glanced at him, and saw that he wore a broad grin on his face. "What's the joke, Jimmy?" he asked, a little suspiciously. For only answer Jimmy broke into a peal of laughter. "Of all the boobs," he chortled. They looked at him and then at each other in bewilderment. "Do you think the sun has affected his brain?" asked Herb, with affected anxiety. "It might have, if he had any brain to be affected," replied Joe, in the same strain. "Let us in on it, Jimmy," pleaded Bob. "Don't be selfish and keep it all to yourself." "Why, you thick heads," replied Jimmy, with more force than politeness, "don't you know that you don't have to have a lightning arrester with a loop aerial?" There was a moment's silence while they let this sink in, and then a sheepish grin stole into their faces. "Sure enough," owned up Bob. "I knew that too, but I had forgotten it for the time. I was thinking of the outdoor aerial. Of course on an indoor aerial there's no need of a lightning arrester. Jimmy, I take off my hat to you. As the leader of the lynching party said to the widow, after they had lynched the wrong man, the joke's on us." "I guess that evens things up," crowed Jimmy gleefully, his usual good-humor completely restored. "To think of all that waste of good chin music over nothing," he added mockingly. "Don't rub it in," admonished Joe. "We'll admit that we're boobs and let it go at that. Serves us right for thinking of working on a day like this, anyway. Those people out there have the right idea," he continued, pointing to a party in a rowboat some distance out from the shore. "Wish we were out there with them," remarked Herb enviously, as his eyes followed the boat, which had in it three persons, two boys and a girl. "A sailboat would be good enough for me," put in Jimmy. "Rowing is too much like work." "Or better yet a motor boat like that one coming over from the right," said Herb. "In that thing the engine does all the work." "Those fellows in the rowboat seem to be laboring pretty hard at the oars," remarked Bob. "They don't seem to be any too expert, and the waves are pretty rough since that wind sprang up." "The reason they're pulling so hard is to get out of the way of that motor boat," declared Joe. "It looks almost as though they were going to run them down." "There wouldn't be any excuse for that with the whole broad ocean to maneuver in," commented Bob. "But, Great Scott!" he cried, jumping to his feet. "That's just exactly what it's doing. Look! It's right on top of them!" The four boys watched with breathless interest the unfolding before their eyes of what promised to be a tragedy. The young men in the smaller boat were pulling like mad to get out of the way of the motor boat bearing down upon them with undiminished speed. The girl in the stern of the boat was wringing her hands and screaming. Whether the two men in the motor boat failed to see the rowboat in their path, or whether they were simply reckless and heartless, it was impossible to tell. In any event, there was no shifting of the helm, no slackening of speed. Swift and relentless as doom the motor craft drove into the rowboat and crushed it like an eggshell. CHAPTER II TO THE RESCUE There was a gasp of horror from the boys as they saw the three forms struggling in the water amid the débris of the shattered rowboat. "They'll be drowned!" shouted Bob, in an agony of apprehension. "If they can only keep afloat until the motor boat picks them up," ejaculated Joe. But to the consternation of the boys they saw that the motor boat occupants had no intention of going to the rescue. It was not that the men on the boat were not aware of the damage they had done. The boys could see the figures of two men looking backward from the stern towards the people struggling in the waves. But there was no halting of the speed of the craft and it kept on like an arrow, as though it were a criminal bent only on getting away from the scene of his crime. A cry broke from the boys when this conviction was forced upon them. They clenched their fists and shook them toward the retreating craft, while fierce exclamations broke from their lips. But there was no time for indulging in vain objurgations. Bob as usual took the lead. "Come along, fellows!" he shouted, as he set off like a deer towards a rowboat that was pulled up on the beach. "We've got to save those people, and every second counts. Hustle's the word!" His companions were close on his heels, and without loss of time they had reached the boat. In it were two pairs of oars. They pushed the boat down the shelving beach into the surf and jumped aboard. "Each one take an oar," commanded Bob. "Now pull, fellows, with all your strength. Don't mind about the steering. I'll tend to that. Pull! Pull!" They did not need any urging, and the boat, yielding to the impetus of four pairs of arms, made rapid headway and had soon got beyond the breakers. But the tide was setting toward the shore and the waves were running high, while the wind was strong and against them. Filled with anxiety as they were, it seemed to them that the boat was only creeping, though they were putting their arms and their backs into the work and pulling with every ounce of strength that they possessed. Bob used his oar both for pulling and steering, and ever and again cast a glance behind him to make sure of his course. He could see that the two men had caught hold of a fragment of the boat and were trying to keep afloat. The girl seemed to have fainted and was supported by the arm of one of the men. As the waves rolled toward them, they tried to rise with them, but often they were entirely submerged, and there was danger that at any moment their hold might be torn from the slight fragment that alone kept them afloat. The need for haste was urgent, and Bob urged his comrades on with frantic adjurations. "Pull harder," he cried, himself setting the example. "Harder yet. Put all you've got into each stroke. Harder! Harder!" It seemed as though their hearts were being pulled out of their bodies, but they summoned up all their strength for a final spurt that carried them into the floating débris of the boat. "Easy now," cried Bob, as he shipped his oar. "You, Herb and Jimmy, just row enough to keep her head on. Joe, give me a hand." He reached out and caught the arm of the lad who was supporting the girl. While Bob held him fast, Joe reached over, took his helpless burden from his arms, and lifted her into the boat. That done, they reached over and helped the nearly exhausted youths into the boat with what aid they themselves were able to render. They were too used up to talk, but their eyes showed their gratitude. "Well, that's that!" exclaimed Bob, heaving a sigh of heartfelt relief, as he again took up his oar. "Now, fellows, it's us for the shore as soon as we can get there. These people are all in and need first aid, especially the girl. Let's go." With tired arms and bodies but vastly lighter hearts, they bent to the oars. And while they are speeding over the waves with their burden, it may be well, for the benefit of those who have not read the previous volumes of this series, to tell who the radio boys were and what had been their adventures up to the time this story opens. Bob Layton was the son of a prosperous chemist living in the town of Clintonia, a thriving community of about ten thousand population, situated on the Shagary River in an Eastern state, about seventy-five miles from New York. Bob had been born and brought up there, and was a general favorite with the people of the town, especially the boys of his own age, because of his sunny nature and frank, straightforward character. He was a natural leader in all wholesome sports and a crack player on the school baseball and football teams. His special chum was Joe Atwood, a boy of about his own age and the son of a leading doctor of the town. While both were tall, Joe was of a fair complexion while Bob was dark, and the dissimilarity extended to other things than mere appearance. Joe was impulsive and quick-tempered, and apt to act on the spur of the moment, while Bob, although never shirking trouble or a fight if it came his way, was more self-controlled. But their points of likeness were more numerous than their points of difference, and they were the warmest of friends. Where one was to be found the other was usually not far off. Closely associated with them were Herb Fennington and Jimmy Plummer, slightly younger but nearly enough of an age to be good comrades. Jimmy was round and fat and fond of good living, a trait which had earned him the nickname of "Doughnuts." Herb was rather easy-going and fond of telling jokes, of which he always had a stock in store. In one way or another the four friends frequently came into conflict with Buck Looker, the bully of the town, and his two boon companions, Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney, who were of the same stripe, though they deferred to Buck as their leader. Ever since the wonderful new science of radio had come into such worldwide prominence, Bob and his friends had been intensely interested in it. That interest had been fostered by the stimulating advice and information given them by Dr. Amory Dale, the pastor of the old First Church of Clintonia. How they had made their own receiving sets in competition for the prize offered by the member of Congress for their district; the difficulties they surmounted and the triumphs they achieved; how Buck and his gang sought to wreck and steal their sets and the thrashing Buck received in consequence; how by the agency of the radio they were able to detect a swindler, one, Dan Cassey, and force him to make restitution to Nellie Berwick, an orphan girl he had tried to cheat; all this and many more exciting adventures are told in the first book of this series, entitled: "The Radio Boys' First Wireless; Or, Winning the Ferberton Prize." The winning of the prizes, the first by Bob and the second by Joe, with honorable mention for Jimmy, was a spur to fresh efforts in mastering the wonders of radio. This they carried out at Ocean Point, a seashore resort, at which they spent their vacation. How they advanced to the use of the vacuum tube receiving set from their first crystal set; their experiences in the wireless room of a seashore station; their narrow escape from death on the night of a roaring gale; how, under the stress of need, they were able to send a message to the ship on which relatives and friends were voyaging and bring other ships to their aid; how they tracked down and captured the rascal Cassey after he had assaulted and robbed their friend Brandon Harvey, the wireless operator; these things are narrated in the second volume of this series entitled: "The Radio Boys at Ocean Point; Or, The Message That Saved the Ship." With the radio boys pulling hard at the oars, it was only a matter of a few minutes before they had made their way through the breakers and reached the shore. There they jumped out and shoved the rowboat up on the beach. The youths whom they had rescued and who seemed only little older than themselves had by this time partially recovered from their exhaustion and were able to get out themselves, although they were very shaky on their legs. The girl had regained consciousness, but was not able to walk, and the boys debated just what they should do. Quite a crowd that had watched the rescue from the beach were on hand to greet and congratulate them and offers of help were plentiful. But Dr. Atwood, Joe's father, who had taken a day off from his extensive practice to spend it with his family at the Point, solved the problem. "Bring the girl up to my cottage," he directed. "I'll give her the necessary treatment and then Mrs. Atwood can take charge of her until she's sufficiently recovered to be taken home. I'll give you boys something too that will counteract the effects of the shock and strain you've been under, and you'll be all right in a little while." The boys picked up the girl and carried her to the Atwood cottage that was only a little distance away. Rose Atwood together with Agnes and Amy Fennington, who had come over and were all interest and attention, recognized her as Mary Rockwell, a girl whom they had met at the dance which the radio boys had given, getting the music over the radio set from a broadcasting station. Together with Mrs. Atwood, they gave her all possible care after the doctor had given her a sedative, and word was sent over to her people assuring them of her safety. In the meanwhile the rescued lads, after they had been looked over by the doctor and given a slight stimulant, had been borne off bodily by Bob and the other radio boys to the cottage of Bob's parents, where they sat on the veranda while supper was being prepared, for Bob had given them a cordial invitation to take supper and spend the evening with them. As they were about the size of Bob and Joe, the latter had furnished them with extra suits of their own clothes while their drenched garments were taken in charge by Mrs. Layton to be dried and pressed. And now for the first time the new acquaintances were able to take a good look at each other. What they saw pleased them mutually. One of the boys was slender and agile, with frank, honest eyes and a friendly smile that was almost constantly in evidence. His hair was brown and wavy and his complexion naturally fair, though it was at the moment tanned by the sun and sea air. There was not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his body, and he gave the impression of being a trained athlete. The other had a humorous face that betrayed Irish ancestry, which was emphasized by the merest touch of a brogue when he talked. His hair was red and his face freckled, and there was something about him that was extremely likable and made the boys warm to him at once. "We haven't had a chance to learn each other's names yet," said Bob, with a smile, as the party settled comfortably into the veranda seats. "And that's not surprising either," he added, "for we've been pretty busy since the first moment we met. This is the first chance we've had to draw our breaths. My name is Bob Layton, and these pals of mine are Joe Atwood, Herb Fennington and Jimmy Plummer, the latter the greatest doughnut eater in captivity." "And our handles are Larry Bartlett and Tim Barcommon," said the taller of the two newcomers, as they laughingly acknowledged the introductions. "And before we do anything else we want to tell you fellows how grateful we are for the way you came to our help. It would have been all up for us if you hadn't." "Yes," chimed in Tim, "we'll never forget it as long as we live. It was a mighty plucky thing for you fellows to pull out in the sea that was running. The sight of you coming was the only thing that helped me to hold on. I was just about all in when you reached us. You certainly sent that old boat spinning along." "Oh, that was nothing," disclaimed Bob. "We just happened to be on the spot. Any one else would have done the same thing." "But you notice nobody else did do it," replied Larry. "There were lots of other people on the beach that saw the accident, but you were the only ones that did the hustling. It was a case of quick thinking as well as plucky acting, and we owe our lives to you. I only hope that some time we'll be able to do something that will show you how we appreciate it." "What gets me," put in Joe, "was the heartless way those fellows in the motor boat acted. They were simply brutes. They ought to have their necks wrung." "Yes," said Herb. "There was no excuse for their running you down in the first place. But after they'd done it, the least they could have done was to turn their boat around and pick you up. We took it for granted that that was what they would do, and we couldn't believe our eyes when we saw them keep on. Those fellows are nothing less than murderers." "I guess you're about right," replied Larry. "We counted, too, on their picking us up, and our only thought was to hold on to any floating thing we could grab until they could get to us. And when we saw that they weren't going to, we just about gave up hope. Both Tim and I are pretty good swimmers, and if we'd been alone might have reached the shore. But there was the girl, and with the water as rough as it was we had a pretty slim chance of bringing her in, so it was a case of living or dying together. And it would have been dying sure enough, if you hadn't happened to be on the beach this afternoon. "It would have been especially hard," he continued, "if the girl had been drowned when she was out on our invitation and under our protection. As for ourselves, it would not have mattered so much. She is an awfully nice girl, and her family and mine have been acquainted for years. My mother and hers used to go to school together. I hadn't any idea she was down here when I decided to spend a couple of weeks at Ocean Point, but you can imagine how surprised and delighted I was to find that she and her folks were stopping at the same hotel I had picked out. She was a little afraid of the water, but yielded when we urged her to come out for a row, and we were all having a dandy time until that motor boat come along and spoiled everything." "And think of what the world would have lost if we'd been among the missing," said Tim, with a grin. "No more exhibitions of the Canary Bird Snake, otherwise known as Larry Bartlett." "Or of the famous buck wing and clog dancer, otherwise known as Tim Barcommon," laughed Larry. The radio boys looked at each other in some perplexity. "I don't quite get you," said Bob. CHAPTER III AT THE WIRELESS STATION "Why, it's this way," explained Larry. "We are vaudeville performers. Tim's specialty is dancing, and I can tell you, because he's too modest to say it himself, that he's a peach. Whenever he appears, he just knocks them off their seats. He's a riot." "Cut it out," protested Tim. "Leave that to the press agent." "It's straight goods, just the same," declared Larry. "As for little me, I've got a knack of twisting myself into knots, and then, too, I do a little whistling. And because of that they call me on the posters and in the theater programs the Canary Bird Snake. Kind of mixed up, isn't it?" The radio boys were tremendously interested. The stage had for them the touch of mystery and glamour that appeals to youth, and it was an unusual treat for them to be talking on familiar terms with characters such as they had only seen hitherto in the glare of the footlights. "It must be great," said Bob, "to go all over the country as you do and see all there is to be seen." "Oh, like everything else, theatrical life has its ups and downs," replied Larry. "It's all right when they hand you applause, but not such fun when they throw eggs, especially if the eggs are old. We've never had that experience yet though, and here's hoping that we never shall. There's lots of hard work connected with it, and Tim and I have to work a good many hours each day to keep ourselves in trim. Then, too, when you're playing one night stands and have to get up before daylight to catch a train, which in rube towns often turns out to be just a caboose attached to a freight, it isn't any fun. And it's less fun when you happen to get snowed in for a day or two, as has happened to us several times. But you get paid for all that when your turn goes big and the audience is friendly and gives you a good hand. Oh, it isn't all peaches and cream, but take it altogether we have a pretty good time." "That is, when we're working," put in Tim. "It isn't much fun though when the ghost doesn't walk every Saturday night." The boys looked a little puzzled and Larry undertook to enlighten them. "Tim means when the pay check doesn't happen to come along," he said. "In other words, when we're out of a job. You see we're both pretty young in the profession and we aren't as well known as we hope to be later on. We have to take what we can get on the small-time circuits, and we know that if we make good there we'll get on the big-time circuit sooner or later. Just now things are slack in the theatrical line as they always are in summer. We've got our lines out for a job in the fall, but nothing definite has come of it yet. So we thought we'd come down to the seashore for a few weeks and get a little of the sea air into our lungs." "But we didn't figure on getting as much sea water into our stomachs as we did this afternoon," laughed Tim. "I can taste it yet. I don't think I'll want any salt on my victuals for a month to come." Just then Mrs. Layton appeared and announced that supper was ready, and they all obeyed the call with alacrity, Bob's chums being included in the invitation. The meal was excellent, as Mrs. Layton's always were, and there was a great deal of jollity as it progressed. Larry was very droll and kept the boys in roars of laughter as he told of some of the funny incidents in his experience, and Tim was not far behind him. After the meal was over, nothing would do but that Larry and Tim should go through some of their performances for the entertainment of the company. This they did, and though they were handicapped by the absence of the usual stage properties, Larry not having his stage suit with him and Tim being without his clog dancing pumps, the spectators were delighted. Larry tied himself into a mystifying tangle of knots, and his whistling was so sweet and melodious that it roused his audience to the heights of enthusiasm. And Tim's graceful dancing was a revelation of the possibilities of the Terpsichorean art. Then the radio boys took their turn and gave their visitors a radio concert that was wonderful in its variety and beauty. The night happened to be unusually free of the annoying static that is the bugbear of the wireless, and every note of the music was as clear and sweet as though the performers were only a few yards away. Tim and Larry listened as though they were entranced, and when the concert was finished they were as enthusiastic "fans" as the radio boys themselves. "It's simply wonderful!" exclaimed Larry. "It's the first time I've ever had the chance to 'listen in,' but you can bet it won't be the last." "I'll tell you what," proposed Bob. "We're going over to the wireless sending station to-morrow morning to see the operator there, Mr. Harvey. He's the finest kind of a fellow, and he'll be glad to see you. Suppose you and Tim come along with us." "Surest thing you know!" ejaculated Larry, and Tim acquiesced with equal enthusiasm. They parted for the night with a feeling on both sides of warm liking and esteem and a looking forward to a most enjoyable time on the following day. The next morning the radio boys set out shortly after breakfast, met Larry and Tim at a point previously agreed upon, and together took their way toward the wireless station. Mr. Harvey was alone when they entered, and jumped to his feet with hands extended in greeting and a face beaming with welcome. "What good wind blew you over here?" he exclaimed, as he shook their hands heartily. "We came because we wanted to see you, and also because we wanted to show our friends here something of the way the wireless works," said Bob. He introduced Larry and Tim and Mr. Harvey welcomed them so warmly that they felt at once at home. "So these are the young men you boys pulled out of the water yesterday," he said. "It's mighty lucky for them that you happened to be around." "I'll say it was," agreed Larry, and Tim nodded vigorously. "How did you happen to hear of it?" asked Bob. "Hear of it?" Brandon Harvey repeated. "All the beach is ringing with it. All the hotels are buzzing with it. If you'll look at the morning papers from the city, you'll find they all have a full account of it with comments on the pluck and presence of mind of the fellows who did it. You can't get away with that stuff without having it known, no matter how modest you are." "Making lots of fuss about a trifle," muttered Bob. "Trifle," laughed Harvey. "Just the same kind of a trifle as that you pulled off the night you saved the ship and captured the man who had knocked me out. Have they told you about that?" he asked, turning to Larry and Tim. "Not a word," replied Larry. "Never breathed it," declared Tim. "Just like them," asserted Brandon Harvey, and then went on to tell them of that dreadful night when the storm was raging; how they had found him knocked senseless on the floor and the safe looted; how they had sent the signals that had saved the ship from destruction; how they had pursued the robber and captured him after a hand to hand tussle and recovered the loot. "Well, now about the wireless," interposed Bob, anxious to change the subject. "These friends of ours are a new addition to the army of fans and we want to put them next to some of the wonders of radio." "It's a great army all right," laughed Harvey, "and we're always glad to welcome new recruits. They're coming into the ranks by thousands every day. Nobody can keep count of them, but they must run into the millions. "And they're great in quality as well as quantity," he continued, warming to his favorite subject. "The President of the United States has a radio receiving set on his desk. There's one in the office of every one of the ten Cabinet members. The Secretary of the Navy is sending out wireless messages every day to vessels scattered in all parts of the globe. The head of the army is keeping in touch by radio with every fort and garrison and corps area in the United States. On last Arbor Day the Secretary of Agriculture talked over the radio to more people than ever heard an address in the history of the world. But there," he said, breaking off with a laugh, "if I once get going on this line I'll never know when to stop. So I'll say it all in one sentence--the radio is the most wonderful invention ever conceived by the mind of man." "You don't need to prove it to us," laughed Bob. "It's simply a miracle, and we become more convinced of that every day. I'm mighty glad I was born in this age of the world." The boys crowded around Mr. Harvey as he explained to Larry and Tim in as simple a way as possible the radio apparatus of the station. "When I press this key," he said, "an electrical spark is sent up into the antenna, the big wire that you see suspended from the mast over the station, and is flung out into space." "Travels pretty fast, doesn't it?" asked Larry, to whom all this was new. "Rather," laughed Mr. Harvey. "It can go seven and a half times around the world while you are striking a match." "What!" exclaimed Larry incredulously. "Why, the circle of the earth is about twenty-five thousand miles." "Exactly," smiled Harvey. "And that spark travels at the rate of one hundred and eighty-six thousand miles a second." "You're sure you don't mean feet instead of miles?" suggested Tim dubiously. "It's miles all right," laughed Harvey. "Electricity travels at the same rate as the light that comes to us from the sun and stars." "What becomes of this electrical impulse after it gets started on that quick trip?" asked Larry. "How does the fellow on the other end get what you're trying to tell him." "That fellow or that station has another antenna waiting to receive my message," replied Harvey. "The signal keeps on going through the ether until it strikes that other antenna. Then it climbs along it until it reaches the receiving set and registers the same kind of dot or dash as the one I made at this end. It's like the pitcher and catcher of a baseball battery. One pitches the ball and the other receives the same ball. At one instant it's in the pitcher's hand and the next it has traveled the space between the two and is resting in the catcher's hand. Sounds simple, doesn't it?" "Sounds simple when you put it that way," laughed Larry. "But I have a hunch that it isn't as simple as it sounds." "Well, to tell the truth, it isn't quite as simple as that," confessed Harvey. "There's a whole lot to learn about receiving and transmitting and detectors and generators and condensers and vacuum tubes and all that. But my point is that there's nothing of the really essential things that are concerned in getting entertainment and instruction from radio that can't be learned with a little application by any one of ordinary intelligence." "I wonder if I'm in that class," said Larry quizzically, and there was a general laugh. Another half hour was spent with great profit and interest in the sending station and then the boys arose to go. "How are you getting along with that regenerative set?" asked Mr. Harvey of Bob. "Pretty well, thank you," answered Bob. "It's the proper adjusting of the tickler that's giving me the most trouble." "Be careful not to increase it too far," warned Harvey. "If you do, the vacuum tube oscillates and becomes a small generator of high frequency current and in that way will interfere with other near-by stations. Then, too, the speeches and music will be mushy instead of being clear. Drop in again when you have time and we'll talk the matter over a little further." The visitors bade their host farewell and trooped out into the bright sunshine. Larry and Tim were enthusiastic over the new world into which they had been introduced. "The most wonderful thing in the world," was their verdict. They spent the rest of the morning on the beach, and before they parted, Larry had secured a promise from the radio boys to come over to a dance that was to be held the next night at the hotel where he and Tim were stopping. "Jolliest kind of fellows, aren't they?" said Joe. "They sure are," agreed Herb. "I should think that free and easy life of theirs would be just one round of enjoyment." "I wouldn't exactly say that," remarked Bob. "Two or three times I have noticed a look of worry in Larry's eyes as though something were weighing on his mind." This arrow, shot at a venture, was indeed correct, for Larry was far from being as care free as the boys imagined. The fact that he was out of work at present worried him, naturally. But this would have but little weight with him had it not been for his sick mother at home. That mother had worked for years in his behalf, following the death of his father, whose affairs were so involved at his death that there was little money left to support his wife and child. The mother had kept up a brave heart, however, and done the best she could for herself and her idolized son. The strain of being both bread-winner and mother had told, however, and now she was in ill health. Larry, since he had entered upon a profession, had sent to her all that he possibly could in order to maintain her in comfort, but just now the source of supply had stopped and there was no knowing at what time it would be resumed. He knew that his mother had very little money on hand at the time, and her condition of health made Larry her only resource. The radio boys kept their engagement, and the dance was a jolly affair at which they enjoyed themselves thoroughly. The only drawback to a perfect evening was the fact that Buck Looker and Carl Lutz were there also, but this did not bother them much in the early part of the evening. The last dance had just been concluded and the ardent dancers were clamoring for one more encore, when a disturbance rose at one end of the room that attracted general attention. The radio boys hurried to the spot in question to find Buck and Lutz talking excitedly while Larry and Tim were standing near them with flushed and indignant faces. The manager of the hotel and a house detective were also in the group. "I tell you that those are the fellows who did it," Buck was vociferating, while he pointed to Larry and Tim. "They were the ones closest to me when I missed my watch and stickpin, and I had just looked at my watch the minute before. If you search them you'll find the goods on them. My friend here lost his at the same time." "It's false!" cried Larry. "If there weren't ladies here, I'd cram the story down your throat!" exclaimed Tim, his eyes blazing. "That's a serious charge you're making, young man," said the manager to Buck. "They've got them," said Buck sullenly. "Search them and you'll find I'm right." "See here," cried Larry. "If this fellow were the only one concerned I wouldn't condescend to satisfy him. But I have some friends here," indicating the radio boys, "and for their sakes I'm going to establish my innocence beyond any doubt. Come right in to one of the private rooms here and search me thoroughly. As for this fellow," glaring at Buck, "I'll settle with him at another time." The party adjourned to a room, and a thorough search resulted in showing that none of the missing articles was on Larry or Tim. "Now I'll settle with you," cried Larry, making a rush at Buck. But he was restrained by the house detective who held him while Buck and his crony slunk away. The radio boys gathered around their new friends and condoled with them over the unfounded accusation. "He'll pay me for that yet," declared Larry, who had been wrought up to a high pitch of excitement. "Here's hoping you'll get a hack at him," said Joe. "Did you notice that there wasn't a word of apology for having made a false charge against you?" "Did you ever know him to do a decent thing?" asked Bob scornfully. "That's Buck Looker to a dot." The next morning Bob was over at Joe's bungalow when Mr. and Mrs. Rockwell called with Mary to thank the Atwoods for the care they had given Mary when she was brought from the water, and also to express their gratitude to the boys, whose quickness and resource had saved her life. Mary, a pretty girl, had entirely recovered, and was profuse in her thanks to Bob and Joe, which were echoed by her parents, who laid so much stress upon their bravery that the boys blushed to the ears. "You are making altogether too much of it," Bob protested, and Joe agreed. "It is impossible to do that," said Mr. Rockwell, and Mrs. Rockwell nodded her head vigorously. "The only thing I am sorry about," said Bob, "is that we have not been able to catch the fellows in the motor boat who ran the rowboat down. They ought to be sent to jail on the double quick." "It turns out," said Mr. Rockwell, "that they were not only heartless brutes, but thieves as well. We found out yesterday that the boat had been stolen from Mr. Wentworth, who is one of the guests at the hotel where we are stopping. They left an old rowboat in its place. Mr. Wentworth has put the police on the track of the thieves, but as yet nothing has been heard of them. I am afraid they have made good their escape." "I only hope," declared Bob, "that I may live long enough to get my hands on the throat of one or both of them." "I'd like that privilege," returned Mr. Rockwell warmly, "but I am afraid the chances are slim. They may be hundreds of miles away by this time." "Well," said Joe, "the arm of the law is long and it may reach them yet." "Here's hoping," said Bob. CHAPTER IV RADIO PLANS Shortly after the unfortunate affair at the dance Larry and Tim came to the Layton bungalow, overjoyed at a letter they had just received. "Bob, our streak of bad luck must be broken at last," exulted Larry. "It was beginning to look like the bread line for ours, but now maybe we'll be able to eat heartily again." "You don't look very hungry just at present," grinned Bob. "But what does it say in that letter that you're waving around, anyway?" "We've got an engagement, at last," put in Tim. "And, oh, boy! make out it doesn't seem like money from home!" "Well, that's certainly fine," said Bob, heartily. "It's with Chasson's vaudeville show," explained Larry. "It's a traveling show, and we probably won't show more than one or two nights in a town. Of course, it isn't as swell an outfit as we would like to connect up with, but it will keep the wolf from the door for a little while." "It will tide us over until we can hook up with something classier, anyway," said Tim. "The chances are we'll play in all the towns around this part of the country, and if we land in the one you fellows live in, we'll expect you to applaud our act harder than any of the others, no matter how bad we are." And he grinned. "If you come to Clintonia, you can bet we'll give you the glad hand, all right," promised Bob. "I suppose we all get free passes, don't we?" with a twinkle in his eye. "You'd get all you want if Tim and I had the say-so," said Larry, "but the manager probably won't be able to see it that way." "Some day we'll have a show of our own, maybe," said Tim. "Then we'll give you all passes, you can bet your boots on that." "Don't try to hold your breath until then, though," said Larry. "The way things are breaking for us lately, we'll be more likely to be inviting our friends to come and visit us in the poorhouse." "Over the hills to the poorhouse, It's not so far away, We may get there to-morrow, If we don't get there to-day," chanted Tim, immediately afterward breaking into a lively jig to express his indifference to that mournful possibility. "Well, if you ever do land in that cheerful place, you'll be very popular," laughed Bob. "But now that you've both got an engagement, you won't have to worry about that for some time to come. I know the other fellows will be glad to hear about it, too. They went down to town this morning, but they ought to be back pretty soon now. Stick around till they come, and we'll tell them the glad news." "Surest thing you know," acquiesced Larry. "We don't have to report to Chasson until day after to-morrow, anyway. How's the wireless coming along these days?" "Fine and dandy," responded Bob. "After we get back to Clintonia we intend to build some big sets so that we can receive signals from all over the country." "But where do you get all the money to buy that stuff?" asked Larry. "Some of it must be pretty expensive, isn't it?" "Not as expensive as you might think, although some of the apparatus, like audion bulbs, certainly run into money," replied Bob. "But we can easily sell the apparatus that we already have, and make enough on that to buy the new things with. There are plenty of people ready and anxious to buy our sets, because we can sell them for less than the store would charge, and they work as well or better than some store sets." "Who's talking of selling our sets?" broke in a well-known voice, as Joe, Herb and Jimmy came, pellmell, into the room. "I was," said Bob, in answer to Jimmy's question. "I was thinking of selling your set to the junkman, for what it would bring." "Huh!" exclaimed Jimmy, indignantly. "I'll bet a junkman wouldn't even buy yours. He'd expect you to pay him to take it away." "Say, you fellows must have a high opinion of each other's radio outfits," broke in Tim, laughing. "But if you want to give one away, here's Tiny Tim, ready and waiting." "No chance," said Jimmy, positively. "I worked too many hot nights on mine to give it away now, and I guess Bob thinks he'd like to keep his, too, even though it isn't really much good." "It was good enough to take the Ferberton prize, anyway, which is more than some people can say of theirs," Bob replied, grinning. "How about it, Doughnuts?" "That was because the judges didn't know any better," said his rotund friend. "They should have made me the judge, and then there's no doubt but what my set would have won that hundred bucks." "We can believe that easily enough," laughed Larry. "But you radio bugs forget your hobby for a few minutes and listen to the glad news," and then he told them about the engagement he and Tim had secured. All the boys congratulated them on their good fortune, and after some further conversation the two actors departed, first promising to drop in for a visit before going away to start their engagement. "I like those two fellows first rate, and would be mighty glad to see them succeed," said Bob, after they had gone. "It seems to me they ought to make a big hit, too. They're a regular riot all the time they're with us." "Yes, they're certainly funny," agreed Joe. "What were you telling them about selling our sets, just as we came in?" "Oh, I was just saying that we could get money to buy new apparatus, audion bulbs, and that sort of expensive stuff, by selling one or two of the sets we've got now, and whacking up the proceeds," said Bob. "My dad spoke of that last evening, and it struck me as a mighty good idea. I know of several people in Clintonia who would like nothing better than to have a good set, and having made them ourselves, we can sell them cheaper than the stores, and still make money on them." "Say, that's a pretty good stunt," said Joe. "I was trying to figure out the other day where we could get the necessary cash. The cheapest audion bulb you can buy costs about three dollars." The other boys, also, were pleased with this idea, and said so. They agreed to sell two of their sets as soon as they got back to Clintonia. This was their last week at Ocean Point, for the fall term of the high school started the following Monday, and they were to leave Ocean Point on Saturday. "It will be pretty hard to bone down to lessons again, after a summer like this, but I suppose there's no help for it," said Jimmy, mournfully. "I feel as though I'd forgotten all I ever knew." "That isn't much, so you don't need to worry about it," said Joe, with pleasing frankness. "I suppose you think you're a regular Solomon, don't you?" retorted Jimmy. "Nobody else does, though, I can tell you that." "Quit your scrapping," admonished Herb. "You don't either of you know a single good joke, while I'm just full of wit and humor. Why, here's a joke I thought up just the other day, and I don't mind admitting that it's a pippin, not to say peacherino. I thought it up while I was watching some fellows play tennis, and I just know you're all crazy to hear it." "We'd have to be crazy to want to hear it," said Bob. "But probably you'll feel better after you get it out of your system, so fire ahead, and we'll do our best to stand the strain." "This won't be any strain; it will be a pleasure," said Herb. "Now, this joke is in the form of a humorous question and an even more humorous answer. Oh, it's a wonder, I'll say." "We'll say something, too, if you don't hurry up and get the agony over with," threatened Joe. "Make it snappy, before we weaken under the strain and throw you out the window." "Well, then," said Herb: "Why does the tennis ball? And the answer is: Because the catgut on the racquet." And he broke into a peal of laughter, in which, however, his friends refused to join. "Well, what's the matter?" asked Herb, cutting short his laughter as he saw that the others only shook their heads despondently. "Why in the name of all that's good don't you laugh? Wasn't that a peach of a joke?" "Herb, the only reason we don't kill you right away is because you will be punished more by being allowed to live and suffer," said Bob. "That was a fierce joke." "Oh, get out!" exclaimed Herb, in an injured tone. "You fellows don't know a clever joke when you hear it." "Likely enough we don't," admitted Joe. "We don't get much chance to hear clever jokes while you're around." "Oh, well, if you don't like my jokes, why don't you think up some of your own?" asked Herb, in an aggrieved tone. "There's no law against it, you know." "There ought to be, though," put in Jimmy. "Oh, what do you know about it?" asked Herb, incensed at the laughter that followed this thrust. "All you can think of, Doughnuts, is what you're going to get to eat when the next meal time comes around." "Well, I enjoy thinking of that so much, that I'd be foolish to think of anything else," said Jimmy, serenely. "You win, Jimmy," said Bob, as he and Joe shouted with laughter at Herb's discomfiture. The latter was inclined to be sulky at first, but he soon forgot his ill humor, and was as gay as the others as they discussed their plans for the fall and winter months. Contrary to the predictions of some of their neighbors in Clintonia, their enthusiasm for radio work had increased rather than diminished, and they were anxious to become the possessors of sets capable of hearing any station in the United States, and perhaps even the large foreign stations. Of course, this meant that their apparatus would have to be much more intricate and expensive than any they had constructed hitherto, but the realization of this did not deter them. On the contrary, the thought that the task would be one to tax their skill and knowledge to the utmost only served to make them more eager to begin. They examined numberless catalogues and circulars in an effort to determine where and at what cost they could obtain their necessary supplies, jotting down notes as they went along. By supper time they had acquired a pretty good idea of what their new equipment would cost, and were pleased to find that it came within the amount that they thought they could get by selling two of their present complete sets. "Well, then," said Bob, in conclusion, as they heard the supper bell ring, "the first thing we do when we get back home will be to sell the two sets, and then we'll get busy on making the new ones." With this the others agreed. CHAPTER V BACK FROM THE BEACH "Good-bye, old bungalows, we hate to leave you. Here's hoping we see you again next summer." It was Herb speaking, as the radio boys and their families left the group of cottages where all had spent such an eventful and pleasant summer. Brilliant sunlight beat down on the yellow sand, but its heat was very different from the torrid rays that had kept them running to the ocean to cool off all that summer. There was a clear and sparkling appearance to the air and sky, and the wind that came sweeping over the level sands had a nip in it that made even Jimmy walk fast to keep warm. They were to return home by train instead of automobile, and all the ladies had gone to the station in the big motor omnibus, but the boys had preferred to walk, as the distance was not great and there was still plenty of time before the train was due. "We've had a wonderful time here, there's no doubt of that," said Bob, commenting on Herb's apostrophe to the bungalows. "But it will seem nice to get home again, too. I've almost forgotten what the old town looks like." "It will seem good to see the old bunch at High once more, too," added Joe. "I'll bet there aren't many of them have had the fun that we've had ever since we landed at Ocean Point." "Not only that, but we've learned a lot, too," said Bob. "We were running in luck when we met Mr. Harvey and had the run of that big station. It was a wonderful opportunity." "You bet it was," agreed Herb. "It's a wonderful place to think up jokes in, too. I don't think I ever thought of so many good ones in a single summer before." "I didn't know you thought of any good ones," said Joe. "All those that we heard were punk. Why didn't you tell us some of the good ones for a change?" "So I did, you poor boob," retorted Herb. "My one regret here was that we didn't have a sending set. Then I could have broadcasted some of those jokes, and everybody could have had the benefit of them free of charge." "It would have to be free of charge," said Jimmy, cruelly. "You don't suppose anybody would pay real money to hear that low brand of humor, do you?" "Chances are they'd pay real money _not_ to hear them," put in Joe, before Herb could answer. "But I suppose if Herb ever started anything like that the Government would take away his license before he could do much harm." "Never mind," said Herb resignedly. "You can knock all you want now, but when I get to be rich and famous, like Mark Twain, for instance, you'll be sorry that you were so dumb that you couldn't appreciate me sooner." "Well, we won't have to worry until you are rich and famous, and that probably won't be for a year or two yet," said Bob. "But here we are at the station. They all look glad to see us. I'll bet they were afraid we wouldn't get here in time." This was indeed the case, as was evidenced by much gesturing and waving of parasols and handkerchiefs by the feminine members of the party. They had heard the whistle of the train in the distance, and had firmly persuaded themselves that the boys would be delayed and lose the train. As it turned out, however, the boys had plenty of time, and were on the platform and waiting as the engine puffed into the station. As the train pulled out, they all gazed back regretfully at the little village that had become so familiar to them. Many of the shops were closed and shuttered for the season, and the main street wore a deserted air. However, as the train rounded a curve and the village was lost to view, they regained their usual spirits. "It's a wonder you boys didn't miss the train altogether," said Agnes, Herb's sister. "I don't see why you didn't hurry a little. We were on pins and needles all the time until you showed up." "Aw, what's the use of standing on an old station platform for an hour and spending your time wondering why the train doesn't show up?" said Herb. "We could have left the bungalows ten minutes later and still caught the train. I don't enjoy riding on a train unless I've had to run to get it, anyway." "If this train had been on time, you would have had a fast run to get it, I can tell you," said Amy, Agnes' younger sister. "It was about fifteen minutes late, and that's the only reason you got it at all." "Oh, we could run almost as fast as this train goes, anyway," boasted her brother. "And speaking of slow trains, that reminds me of a good story I read the other day." "Oh, please tell us about it," said Agnes, with mock enthusiasm. "You know we always love to hear your jokes, brother dear." Herb glanced suspiciously at her, but was too glad of an opportunity to tell his story to inquire into her sincerity. "It seems there was a man traveling on a southern railroad----" he began, but Jimmy interrupted him. "Which railroad?" he inquired. "It doesn't matter which railroad," said Herb, glaring at his friend. "It was a railroad, anyway, and a slow one, too. Well, this man was in a hurry, it seems, and kept fidgeting around and looking at his watch. Finally the train stopped altogether, and a moment later the conductor came through the car. "'What's the matter, Conductor?' asked the traveler. "'There's a cow on the track,' answered the conductor. "Well, pretty soon the train started on again, but it hadn't gone very far before it stopped once more. 'Say, Conductor, why in blazes have we stopped again?' asked the traveler. 'Seems to me this is the slowest train I ever rode on.' "'It can't be helped, sir,' answered the conductor. 'We've caught up with that pesky cow again.'" They all laughed at this anecdote, which pleased Herb immensely. "I know lots more, any time you want to hear them," he ventured, hopefully. "Better not take a chance on spoiling that one, Herb," advised Joe. "That was unusually good for you, I must admit." "Herb's jokes wouldn't be so bad if he'd stick to regular ones," said Bob. "It's only when he starts making them up himself that they get so terrible." "Yes, and just think of his poor sisters," sighed Agnes. "In the summer it isn't quite so bad, because he's out of the house most of the time, but in winter it's simply terrible." "Well, this winter I won't have much time to waste on you and Amy, trying to develop a sense of humor in you," said Herb. "I'm going to build a radio set of my own that will be a cuckoo." "Hurrah for you!" exclaimed Bob. "That's a better way to spend your time, and what a relief it will be for all of us." "I suppose you think you're kidding me, but you're not," said Herbert. "I'll make a set this winter that will make you amateurs turn green with envy. You see if I don't!" "It will be fine if you do," said Bob. "There's no reason why you shouldn't if you really want to." The time passed quickly, and before they realized it they heard the conductor call the name of their own town. "Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Agnes, "are we really there so soon? And I haven't got any of my things together yet!" There was great bustle and confusion for a few moments, and then the whole party found themselves on the familiar platform of the Clintonia station. Several taxicabs were requisitioned, and they were all whisked away to their respective homes, after the radio boys had agreed to meet at Bob's house that evening. CHAPTER VI RADIO'S LONG ARM "Well, fellows," said Bob, when they were together that evening, according to agreement, "this is the last evening we'll have without lessons for some time to come, so we'd better make the most of it." "Don't mention lessons, Bob," implored Jimmy. "Oh, my, how I hate 'em!" and he groaned dismally. "You'll soon be doing them, old timer, whether you like them or not," said Joe. "It's going to be a tough term for me, too. I'll be taking up geometry this term, and they say that's no cinch." "Nothing's a cinch for me, worse luck," said Jimmy, dolefully. "Everything I do seems to be hard work for me." "That's tough luck, too," said Bob, gravely, "because you hate work so much, Doughnuts." "There isn't anybody in the world hates it more," confessed Jimmy, shamelessly. "But that's all the good it ever does me. Why wasn't I born rich instead of good looking?" "Give it up," said Bob. "You'll have to ask me easier ones than that, Jimmy, if you expect to get an answer. But as far as I can see, people that are rich don't seem to be especially happy, anyway. Look at old Abubus Boggs. He's probably the richest man in Clintonia, but nobody ever accused him of being happy." "I should say not!" exclaimed Joe. "He goes around looking as though he had just bitten into an especially sour lemon. Everybody hates him, and I don't suppose that makes any one happy." "Maybe that does make old Abubus happy, there's no telling," said Jimmy, reflectively. "But I know I wouldn't change places for all his money." "There you are!" exclaimed Bob, triumphantly. "You don't realize how well off you are, Doughnuts." "Maybe not," conceded Jimmy. "School isn't so bad after you once get started, but I hate to think of settling down to the old grind after that wonderful summer at Ocean Point." "But we'll have the radio just the same," Joe pointed out. "That's one of the good things about it; you can take it with you wherever you go." "Yes, I was reading an article in one of the radio magazines a little while ago about that," said Bob. "The article was written by a trapper in the northern part of Canada. He told how he had set up his outfit in the center of a howling wilderness and had received all the latest news of the world in his shack, not to mention music of every kind. He said that the natives and Indians thought it must be magic, and were looking all over the shack for the spirit that they supposed must be talking into the headphones. That trapper was certainly a radio fan, if there ever was one, and he wrote a mighty interesting letter, too." "I should think it would be interesting," said Herb. "I'd like to read it, if you still have it around." Bob rummaged around in a big pile of radio magazines and finally found what he was looking for. The boys read every word of the letter, and were more than ever impressed by the wonderful possibilities of radiophony. No longer would it be necessary for an exploring expedition to be lost sight of for months, or even years. Wedged in the Arctic ice floes, or contending with fever and savage animals in the depths of some tropical jungle, the explorers could keep in touch with the civilized world as easily as though bound on a week end fishing trip. The aeroplane soaring in the clouds far above the earth, or the submarine under the earth's waters, could be informed and guided by it. Certainly of all the wonders of modern times, this was the most marvelous and far-reaching. Something of all this passed through the boys' minds as they sat in ruminative silence, thinking of the lonely man in the wilderness with his precious wireless. "I suppose we should feel pretty lucky to be around just at this stage of the earth's history," said Bob, thoughtfully. "We're living in an age of wonders, and I suppose we're so used to them that most of the time we don't realize how wonderful they really are." "That's true enough, all right," agreed Joe. "When you step into an automobile these days, you don't stop to think that a few years ago the fastest way to travel was behind old Dobbin. The old world is stepping ahead pretty lively these days, and no mistake." "It can't step too fast to suit me," said Herb. "Speed is what I like to see, every time." "Oh, I don't know," said Jimmy, lazily. "Why not take things a little easier. People had just as much fun out of life when they weren't in such a rush about everything. I take things easy and get fat on it, while Herb is always rushing around, and it wears him down until he has the same general appearance as a five and ten cent store clothespin." "I wouldn't want to look like a three and nine cent store pin-cushion, anyway," said Herb, indignantly. "That's about your style of beauty, Doughnuts." "Well, I never expect to take any prizes in a beauty show, so that doesn't make me mad," said Jimmy, calmly. "If you weren't so blamed fat, I'd have half a mind to throw you out the window, you old faker," said Herb, threateningly. "Couldn't do it," said Jimmy, briefly. "In the first place, I'm too heavy; and in the second place, Bob wouldn't let you." "I'll bet Bob would be glad to see you thrown out. How about it, Bob?" and Herb appealed to his friend. "I wouldn't want you to throw him out of either of these windows," answered Bob, seriously. "There are valuable plants on the lawn below, and I'd hate to see them damaged. But if you want to take him out and drop him from the hall window, I'm sure nobody will have any objections." "Oh, I can't be bothered carrying him that far," said Herb. "Guess I might as well let him live a while longer, after all." "That's very nice of you," said Jimmy, sarcastically. "But you know you couldn't do it, anyway. All I'd have to do would be to fall on you, Herb, and it would be curtains for little Herbert." "I think they're both afraid of each other, Joe," said Bob, turning to his friend. "What's your opinion?" "Looks that way to me, too. They remind me of a couple of cats that stand and yell at each other for an hour, and then walk off without mixing it after all." "Well, we're not going to go to mauling each other just to amuse you two Indians, that's certain," said Herb. "Let's shake hands and show the world we're friends, Jimmy." "Righto!" agreed his good-natured friend, and they laughingly shook hands. "We'd better save our scrapping for Buck Looker and his friends," said Bob. "I suppose they'll be up to some kind of mischief as soon as we get back to school again. They seem never to learn by experience." "They're too foolish and conceited to learn much," observed Joe. "They probably think they know all there is to know already." "In spite of that, we may be able to teach them a trick or two," said Herb. "But whether you fellows know it or not, it's getting pretty late, so I think I'll go and hit the hay. Who's coming my way?" "I suppose we might as well all beat it," returned Joe, rising. "If we don't see each other to-morrow, I suppose we'll all meet at the dear old high school on Monday morning. Three silent cheers, fellows." "Consider them given," laughed Bob. "But we'll have plenty of fun, too, so why mind a little hard work?" After hunting in odd corners for their caps, the boys finally found them all and departed gayly on their way, only slightly depressed by the imminence of the fall term at high school. CHAPTER VII LEARNING TO SEND "I've got two customers for those sets we wanted to sell," announced Bob, a few evenings later, when the radio boys had congregated at his house as usual. "It was so easy, that I'll bet we could sell all we make, if we wanted to." "Who's going to buy them?" asked Joe. "Dave Halley, who runs the barber shop near the station, wants one, and there's a big novelty store on the next block whose owner will take the other. I promised that we'd set the outfits up and show them how to work them." "That's quick work, Bob," laughed Herb. "How did you come to land two customers so quickly?" "I was getting a haircut in Dave's shop, and he told me that he was thinking of buying a good set, but hated to spend the money. So I told him that I could sell him a good practical set for quite a little less than it would cost him in a store, and he jumped at the offer. Then he told me about Hartmann, the owner of the new variety store. Hartmann wants to get one because he thinks it will draw trade. I went to see him as soon as Dave got through telling me how much dandruff I had and how much I needed some of his patent tonic. Mr. Hartmann was a little doubtful at first about buying a home made set, but I told him if he wasn't pleased with it he didn't need to pay us for it and we'd take it back. That seemed to satisfy him, so he said he'd buy it. It was dead easy." "Well, that's certainly fine," said Joe, admiringly. "That will help a lot toward getting apparatus for the new sets." "You're a hustler, Bob," said Jimmy. "I'd like to be one, but I guess I'm not built that way." "It was more luck than anything else," disclaimed Bob. "Let's go down to the store after school to-morrow and pick out what we need. I want a couple of audion bulbs, and I suppose you fellows do, too. I want to price variable condensers like the one Doctor Dale brought us at Ocean Point last summer, too." "We've got to keep busy if we want to keep ahead of some of the other fellows in this town," said Joe. "Lots of the fellows at High have got the radio fever bad, and are out to beat us at our own game. I guess we can show them where they get off, all right, but we may have to hustle some to do it. I heard Lon Beardsley at noon to-day boasting that he was going to be the first fellow in Clintonia to receive signals from Europe. I asked him what kind of set he intended to do it with, and he said he had been working on one all summer, and was putting the finishing touches to it now." "He ought to have something pretty good, if he's been working on it that long," commented Herb. "If one of us had been working on a set all summer, I think we'd have had it done before this." "Probably we would. But you've got to remember that we've had more experience at the game than Lon," Bob reminded him. "It seems to me that we'd do better all to work on one big, crackerjack set than each to make a separate long distance set," said Herb. "In the first place, it's more fun working together. And then we could put our money together and get better equipment than we could the other way. What do you think?" "I think it's a pretty good idea," said Jimmy. "You can hear just as much over one set as you can over four, as far as that goes." "I was thinking of something like that myself," said Bob, slowly. "It would certainly cost us less, and, as Herb says, we'd probably have a better set in the end." "It suits me all right," added Joe. "This is going to be a tough term at High, and with so much home work I don't know where I'd get the time to build a complicated set. It looks as though we'd be better off every way, doesn't it?" "You always will be better off, if you follow my advice," said Herb, with his customary modesty. "You don't usually have sense enough to do it, though." "We have too much sense, you mean," said Jimmy, scornfully. "This suggestion of yours was only an accident, Herb. Chances are you won't make another as good for the next year." "I don't know that you're very famous for bright ideas, Jimmy, so where do you get off to criticize?" asked Herb. "Huh! I've got an idea in my noddle right now that's worth half a dozen of yours." "Prove it!" replied Herb, promptly. "What is this bright idea?" "Well, you know that just about this time they cook nice, hot doughnuts down at Mattatuck's bakery. Delicious doughnuts! Um, yum!" and Jimmy's round countenance assumed a rapturous expression. "And the idea was, that you'd go down there and blow the crowd to hot doughnuts, was it?" queried Joe. "Blow, nothing!" exclaimed Jimmy. "We'll all chip in. But I don't mind going after them." "The trouble is--can we trust you not to eat them all on the way back?" Bob laughed. "Anybody that doesn't think so can go for his own doughnuts," replied Jimmy. "Kick in there, you hobos, and I'll be on my way. I'm getting hungrier every minute." His friends, thus adjured, "kicked in," and Jimmy set off at a rate of speed much above his usual leisurely gait. The bakery was three or four blocks away, but Jimmy returned in a surprisingly short time with a large bag of tender doughnuts, still warm from the bakery. "Wow!" exclaimed Joe, as Jimmy tore open the bag. "The sight of those doughnuts certainly makes a fellow feel hungry." "Dig into them, fellows," was Jimmy's only comment, as he reached for one himself. They all followed this example, and the pile of crisp brown doughnuts dwindled with surprising rapidity. "Likely enough these will keep me awake half the night, but it's worth it," said Jimmy, with a sigh of contentment, as he finished the last crumb of his fourth doughnut. "I don't feel near as hungry as I did, anyway." "I should hope that you didn't feel hungry at all, old greedy," laughed Joe. "I'm beginning to think that it's impossible to fill you up any more." "Oh, lay off!" retorted Jimmy. "You Indians ate your full share, I notice." "I guess we're all in the same boat," agreed Bob. "But now that we're fed up and feeling strong, how would you like to practice sending for awhile? I was just beginning to work up a little speed while we were at Ocean Point, but now I suppose I'm getting rusty again. Who's game to send? I'll bet nobody can send faster than I can receive." "I'm willing to try it, anyway," said Joe, picking up a magazine. "I'll send right out of this magazine, so when you say 'stop' we'll be able to check up how much you've caught." "All right, that's fair enough," agreed Bob. "Just wait a minute until I get a paper and pencil, then shoot as fast as you can." Seating himself at the table, with a blank sheet of paper before him, Bob made ready to scribble at high speed, while Herb held a watch to time him. As for Jimmy, he was content to curl up on a sofa and act the part of self-appointed judge. "Start sending as soon as you like, Joe," said, Jimmy. "I'm all ready for you. I'll bet I can fall asleep before you can send fifty words." "I wouldn't take that bet, because I believe you can," replied Joe. "I'd be betting against your specialty, and there's no percentage in that, you know." "Don't forget me, though, will you?" said Bob, in a resigned tone. "I don't want to hurry you, but any time you're both through that interesting conversation I'm waiting to begin." "All right, then, here goes!" said Joe, and started sending as rapidly as he could with the practice key and buzzer. Bob's pencil fairly flew over the paper, and for five minutes there was no sound in the room save the strident buzz of the sender and the whisper of Bob's pencil as it moved rapidly over the paper. Then, "Time," called Herb, and Bob threw down the pencil. "Whew!" he exclaimed, reaching for a handkerchief. "That's pretty hot work, if any one should ask you. Count 'em up, Herb, will you, and see how many there are? Seems to me there must be a million words there, more or less." "Quite a little less," laughed Herb, after he had counted the words as requested. "But you've written ninety-one, which is mighty good." "That's a little over sixteen a minute," said Bob. "It's not near as fast as I want to get, but it's fast enough to get a license, anyway." "You bet it is!" exclaimed Herb. "And there are very few mistakes," he added, as he compared what Bob had written with the magazine text. "Joe's getting to be some bear at sending, too," remarked Bob. "Oh, the sending is a lot easier than receiving," said Joe. "But now, if you don't mind, Bob, you can send me something, and I'll see how fast I can take it. I'm afraid I can't come up to your record, though." Joe did very well, however, averaging about fourteen words a minute. Then Herb took a turn at sending and receiving, as did Jimmy, and they both did well. The boys found it all very fascinating, as well as useful, and discussed many plans for the future, although they did not intend to go in much for sending until they had perfected a first-class receiving set. They agreed before parting for the night that they would meet the following day after school at the radio supply store, where they could buy some audion bulbs and whatever other apparatus they might need. CHAPTER VIII A RATTLING FIGHT "Hello, Bob! what kept you so late?" called Joe. He and Herb and Jimmy had been waiting some time for their friend, and were beginning to think that he must have forgotten the appointment made the previous night. "It's a wonder I got here as soon as I did," replied Bob. His face was flushed, and there was an angry gleam in his eyes. "I thought I'd have to lick Carl Lutz before I could get here; but he didn't have quite nerve enough to start anything, as he was all alone. I only wish he had." "What happened?" asked Joe. "Tell us about it." "When I came out this afternoon, Carl was standing just outside the schoolyard gate, teasing that little Yates kid, whose brother was killed in the Argonne fighting. If Bill had been alive, you can bet Carl would have left the kid brother alone, but as it was, he was bullying him and trying to make him carry a big package for him." "Just like the big coward!" exclaimed Joe, indignantly. "You said it!" replied Bob. "Well, of course, I wasn't going to stand for anything like that, and I made him quit. He got so mad that I really thought he was going to swing at me, but he didn't quite have the nerve. He went off muttering something about getting the gang after me, and I took the Yates kid with me for a few blocks to make sure that he would get home all right." "Good for you!" said Joe. "That's just like Carl, to pick on a kid that has nobody to fight his battles for him and is too small to fight his own. I'm glad you were around to take the kid's part." "I suppose Carl will run right to Buck, now, and they'll hatch up some scheme to get even with you," remarked Herb. "I don't care what they do," returned Bob. "It's too bad there's a bunch like that in this town. They're a regular nuisance." "We've done all we could to teach them manners," said Joe. "I guess the trouble is, they don't want to learn." "Don't let's bother even thinking about them," said Bob. "Come on in and we'll buy the stuff we need." The four friends went on into the store, where they found several of their schoolmates, bent on the same mission as themselves. All exchanged greetings, and many good-natured jokes were bandied back and forth as they made their purchases. "You fellows will have to step lively to get ahead of me," said Lon Beardsley, who was older than any of the radio boys and was in the senior class at High School. He was one of the brightest boys in his class, and the others knew that competition from him was not to be despised. "Stepping fast is one of the best things we do," said, Bob, in answer to this friendly challenge. "You may be some speed, but we're not such slouches, either." "Do your worst! We defy you!" cried Herb, striking a melodramatic attitude. "All right," said Lon, laughing. "Remember, though, I've given you fair warning. I see you're buying vacuum tubes," he added, curiously. "You must be going in pretty deep, aren't you?" "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies," parried Bob. "Besides, we're not the only radio fans in this town, Lon. Maybe some one else will beat us all out." "Oh, I'm not worrying," said the other, as he prepared to leave with his purchases. "Are you fellows going my way?" "You'd better not wait for us," replied Bob. "We've got a few things to get yet. See you at school to-morrow." "Righto!" said Lon, and departed, whistling cheerfully. The radio boys started home soon afterward, The days were getting very short, and by the time they left the store the autumn evening was rapidly fading into night. There was a crisp tang in the air which, together with the smell of burning leaves, gave warning that winter was close at hand. The last gorgeous colors of an autumn sunset still tinged the western rim of the sky as the boys set out for home at a rapid pace. Not far from their homes they struck off from the street through a vacant lot, following a path that served as a short cut. The lot was overgrown with weeds and high sunflower stalks, but the idea of an ambush never entered the boys' heads until suddenly they were assailed by a shower of stones, which sang viciously past their ears. Fortunately, it was too dark for their assailants to throw the missiles with any accuracy, although the boys were struck more than once. For a moment, taken completely by surprise, they did not know which way to turn nor what to do. But they were not of the type that hesitates long before taking action. Their hidden assailants probably thought that they would run, but this thought was furthest from their minds. Bob noted from which direction the missiles were coming, and acted accordingly. "Come on, fellows!" he yelled, and, followed by his friends, charged into the long dry stalks that fringed the path. There was a sudden cessation in the volley of stones and a startled rustling deep in the rank growth of weeds. In grim silence the radio boys charged straight in the direction of this sound, and such was the speed of their attack that their hidden adversaries had no chance to make their escape before the boys were upon them. It was now almost dark, but there was still enough light for the boys to recognize the ungainly form of Buck Looker, in company with his cronies. These three had been re-inforced by a boy of about Buck's age, and of very much the same ugly disposition, known as Bud Hayes, whose family had lately moved to Clintonia. "Clean them up, fellows!" yelled Bob. "We'll teach them not to throw stones again in a hurry!" Each of the radio boys singled out an adversary, and a brisk mêlée ensued. Seeing that they could not get away, the Looker crowd put up the best fight they could. But the radio boys were wrought up to a high pitch of anger by the cowardly attack on them, and they fought with a quiet and grim determination that quickly put their adversaries on the defensive. At first the high grass and weeds hampered all the combatants, but these were soon trampled down as they fought savagely back and forth. Suddenly, by some unfortunate accident, Herb tripped over some object lying on the ground, and fell full length. With a cry of triumph, Bud Hayes, without giving Herb a chance to get to his feet again, threw himself down on top of him and started pommeling him for all he was worth. Stunned by his fall, Herb at first could offer little resistance, and it would have gone hard with him had not Bob observed his fall. He himself had engaged Buck in combat, but as he saw Herb go down, he dealt Buck a staggering blow on the point of the jaw and leaped to Herb's assistance. Hot rage filled his heart and the wild thrill of combat tingled along every nerve. With the strength and ferocity of a panther he hurled himself at Bud Hayes, landing with such force that Bud was hurled several feet away from the prostrate Herb, gasping for breath. Bob himself landed on the ground, but was on his feet again quick as lightning, glancing about him to see how it fared with his friends. Joe was forcing Carl Lutz back step by step, while Jimmy had already forced Terry Mooney to take to his heels. But even as Bob noted this in one quick glance, both Bud and Buck, who had recovered by this time, rushed at him from different directions. But before Buck could get too close quarters Herb, who was recovering from the effect of his fall, stretched out a foot, and Buck sprawled headlong, landing with such force that the breath was knocked from his body. Lutz and Hayes, seeing their leader fall, decided that it was time for them to get away, and simultaneously they took to their heels. By this time it had grown so dark that it was impossible to follow them, so the boys were left in undisputed possession of the field. Buck Looker, deserted by his cowardly friends, staggered to his feet, all the fight knocked out of him. He was entirely at the mercy of the radio boys, but they were not the kind to take advantage of this fact, although, undoubtedly, had their positions been reversed, Buck would have had no such scruples. "Well, you've got me," growled Buck. "What are you going to do about it?" "Nothing," said Bob, a note of contempt in his voice. "The less we see of you, Buck, the better we're satisfied. And your gang's no better than you are. Look at the way they ran off and left you to take care of yourself. You're dirty and they're dirty. We'll let you off this time with the licking you've had already, but if you ever try any more low-down tricks you won't get off so easily." Buck muttered something to himself which he did not dare to voice aloud, and slunk off with the manner of a cur who has just received a beating that he knows he deserves. The radio boys groped their way back to the path, where they had left their bundles, and resumed their way home, keeping a wary eye out for any signs of a renewal of the attack by their enemies. CHAPTER IX LARRY REAPPEARS "That was a regular battle," said Herb, as they walked along. "Bud Hayes has some reputation as a scrapper, and he certainly was all that I could handle, but if I hadn't tripped over that blamed can I could have taken care of him all right. But I've got a lump on my head as big as a hen's egg where I hit the ground." "You'd have been out of luck if Bob hadn't helped you out the way he did," said Joe. "You certainly landed on him like a load of bricks, Bob." "I was so mad that I think I would have dropped a ton of bricks on him if I'd had them handy," replied Bob, with a grim laugh. "That was one dirty trick--hitting Herb--when he was knocked out by that fall." "I guess I owe you a vote of thanks for that, too," said Herb. "I owe you one, for tripping up Buck in the neat way you did," returned Bob. "He and Hayes would have been on top of me both together if you hadn't." "No thanks due; it was a pleasure," grinned Herb, although a swollen lip made this exercise painful. "I wish he'd broken his neck while he was about it." "It wasn't your fault that he didn't," said Bob. "I knew that bunch was mean," remarked Joe. "But I never thought they were mean enough to take up stone throwing from ambush. That's the most cowardly thing they've ever done." "Yes, and the most dangerous," said Bob. "Any one of those stones might have killed one of us if it had landed just right." "Or, worse still, it might have broken our vacuum tubes," added Jimmy, with a grin. "It's a wonder that the whole lot of them didn't get smashed. I'll be afraid to open the package when we do get it home," he went on more seriously. His fears turned out to have been groundless, for when they arrived at the Layton home, without having seen or heard anything more of the bullies on the way, they found all their delicate apparatus unharmed. And other than Herb's swollen lip and a few slight bruises, they had received little damage themselves from the encounter. The bullies had not fared so well, for little was seen of them for several days, and when they did make an appearance in public they were decorated with strips of court plaster here and there. They offered many ingenious excuses in explanation, but they received little credence from the other boys of the town, who had been apprized of the cowardly attack on the radio boys and the result of the encounter. The bullies soon found that nobody believed them, and wherever they went they were pointed out and were the subject of many jeers and jokes, although few dared to make them openly. Buck realized that he was losing prestige rapidly, and, although he was getting secretly to fear another encounter with the radio boys, he felt that he must soon get the better of them if he were to regain his former reputation as a fighter. He and his cronies spent many an hour in hatching plots against Bob and his friends, but for a long time could think of nothing that offered much prospect of success. Meanwhile, the radio boys were going about the building of their big set with enthusiasm, spending all their spare time at the fascinating pursuit. Most of their work was done at Bob's house, as he had an ideal workroom in the cellar, and his position as leader, moreover, made it seem the natural place for them to meet. "Say, fellows!" exclaimed Jimmy one evening, tumbling down the cellar stairs three steps at a time, "have you heard the news?" "What news?" asked Herb, who had arrived only a few minutes before him. "Has there been a big fire? Or did some one die and leave you a million dollars?" "No such luck as that," replied Jimmy. "But I know you'll be mighty glad to hear it, anyway. Chasson's vaudeville is going to be in Clintonia next week. That's the show Larry and Tim are with, you know." "Good enough!" exclaimed the others. "Where did you hear about it, Jimmy?" asked Bob. "There was a bill poster putting up the programme on a fence as I came along," answered Jimmy. "I saw the name 'Chasson,' and of course I stopped and looked to see if Larry and Tim were on the bill." "Were they?" asked Herb. "You bet they were! And in pretty big type, too," responded Jimmy. "Say! it will be great to see them on the stage, won't it?" "I should say it will," said Joe. "If they're half as funny on the stage as they are off it, they'll surely make a hit." "They certainly will," put in Bob. "We'll be there on the opening night to give them a hand. If they don't go big, it won't be our fault." "They'll be popular, all right," predicted Joe, with conviction. "If the rest of the show is half as good as their part it will be worth more than the price of admission." "It will be great to hear that canary whistling his little tunes again," said Herbert, laughing at the recollection of Larry's comical imitations. "Not to mention Tim's dancing," said Bob. "That boy can sure shake a foot. I'll bet they'll both get into the big circuits before they're much older." "They deserve to," said Jimmy. "They rehearse an awful lot. It makes me tired just to think of how hard I've seen them work sometimes." "But then, you get tired very easily, Doughnuts, you know that," said Joe. "If you worked half as hard in the afternoons as I do sometimes, you'd be tired in the evening, too," replied Jimmy, in an injured tone. "I'll bet I sawed through about a thousand feet of tough oak planking this afternoon for Dad, and I'll have to do the same thing to-morrow afternoon. He's got a big job on, and I have to pitch in and help him." "Well, you ought to do something to pay for all the good grub you pack away," said Herb, utterly without sympathy for his friend's tale of woe. "Maybe you'd pack away more if you did a little work once in a while," retorted Jimmy. "All you do is spend your time thinking up poor jokes instead of doing something useful." "Oh, I'm glad you mentioned jokes," said Herb, calmly ignoring Jimmy's attack. "I thought of a swell one just as I was walking up here this evening. I know you will all be delighted to hear it." "What makes you so sure?" asked Bob. "They don't usually delight anybody, do they?" "Of course they do," replied Herb, indignantly. "They always delight Herb Fennington, anyway," observed Joe. "Yes, I like me," said Herb, refusing to get mad. "Also, I like my jokes. Now, take this one, for instance. Why----" "I'd rather not take it, if it's all the same to you," said Joe, cruelly. "Why don't you keep it, and give it to somebody else, Herb?" "Oh, forget it!" exclaimed Herb. "This is a good joke, I tell you, and you've got to listen, whether you want to or not." "Go ahead and get the agony over with, then," said Bob, resignedly. "I suppose we'll be able to live through it, just as we have others before this." "Well, I saw in this morning's newspaper that the Mercury Athletic Club in New York burned up last night. Now, you've got to help me out with this joke, Bob. When I say 'I see there was a big athletic event at the Mercury Athletic Club last night,' you say 'is that so? What happened?' Have you got that through your noddle?" "Yes, I guess I can remember that," answered Bob. "Shoot!" "All right, then, here goes," said Herb. "I see that there was a big athletic event at the Mercury Athletic Club last night, Bob." "Is that so?" said Bob, taking his cue. "What happened, Herb?" "The water was running and the flames were leaping," cried Herb, triumphantly. "How's that for a crackerjack joke?" "Awful," said Joe, although he could not help laughing with the others. "I'll bet there's a nice cosy, padded cell waiting for you in the nearest bughouse, Herb." "Well, it can wait, for all of me," said his friend. "I'm not very keen about it, myself." "I think jail would be a better place for him," suggested Jimmy. This met with the unqualified approval of everybody except Herb, and then the boys set to work on their new radio set. As this was Saturday evening, they had no lessons to prepare, and they worked steadily until ten o'clock. They wound transformers until Jimmy declared that it made him dizzy even to look at them, and when the time came to stop work they all felt that substantial progress had been made. They agreed to meet at the theater the following Monday evening, to witness the opening performance of the show in which their friends Larry Bartlett and Tim Barcommon were performing, and then said good-night and started homeward to the accompaniment of a cheerful whistled marching tune. There was much excitement among their classmates the following Monday, as they had all heard about the show and most of them intended to go. When they learned that the radio boys were acquainted with two of the performers, the four lads were deluged with questions as to how they came to know them. "You fellows are getting pretty sporty, seems to me," said Lon Beardsley. "Maybe you'll give us an introduction to your friends in the show." "Surest thing you know," assented Bob. "I got a letter from them this morning, and they promised to call me up around four o'clock this afternoon. They'll probably come to our house for dinner, and we'll all go down to the theater together." And sure enough, Bob had hardly reached home that afternoon when the telephone bell rang, and Larry's familiar voice came over the wire. "Hello, Bob!" he said. "How's the boy? Did you get my letter all right?" "I sure did," answered Bob. "It's fine to hear your voice again. We're all tickled to death to know that you're showing in Clintonia this week. You and Tim have got to come here for supper to-night, you know." "We'd be glad to, if it isn't imposing on your folks," said Larry. "We don't get many regular home dinners these days, you can bet, and it will be a treat for us." "All right, then, we'll be looking for you," replied Bob. "Get here as early as you can." This Larry promised to do, and after a little further conversation rang off. Bob then called up the other radio boys and told them to come to his house immediately after supper, so that they would have time for a few words with Larry and Tim, after which they could all go down to the theater together. CHAPTER X A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT "Hello, Tim! Hello, Larry! How have you been?" The two actors had little reason to complain of the warmth of their reception, as the radio boys shook hands with them, pounded them on the back, and asked innumerable questions. "You both look as though you were being treated all right," said Joe, after they had quieted down somewhat after the first riotous greetings. "How do you like being with a regular show?" "Oh, we manage to get along," answered Larry. "But tell us a little of what you fellows have been doing since we saw you last. Are you still as interested in radio as ever?" "You bet we are!" said Bob. "If you once get interested in that, I don't think you'd ever be willing to drop it. The more you learn about it, the more you want to learn." "Well, that's fine," said Larry, heartily. "I only wish I had time enough to take it up. I'd like nothing better." "When you make a lot of money in the vaudeville business and retire, you'll have plenty of time for it," said Tim, with a wink at the others. "Yes, when I do," said Larry, scornfully. "It doesn't strain my back at present to carry around my roll, though. I feel lucky if I can keep a jump or two ahead of the wolf, as it is. But we may both have luck and land on a big circuit, and then we'll begin to get some real money." While talking, the little party had been walking at a brisk pace and now found themselves close to the theater. Many of the townspeople were going in the same direction, and most of these recognized the radio boys and looked inquisitively at their two companions. Some of their schoolmates, who knew that Larry and Tim were actors, made bold to join the group and be introduced. By the time they reached the theater Larry and Tim had quite an escort of honor, all of whom were loath to leave them at the stage door. As they disappeared within they were followed by three rousing cheers, and then all the boys made their way to the main entrance. The radio boys had secured their tickets in advance, and were soon comfortably seated, waiting expectantly for the curtain to rise on the first act. This proved to be an acrobatic turn of mediocre quality, and the boys waited impatiently for it to finish, for Tim and Larry were billed to appear in the next act. With a moderate meed of applause, the acrobats retired. The orchestra struck up a catchy tune and the big curtain slowly rose. The scene disclosed was pretty and artistic, representing a glade in a forest, realistic trees surrounding a green clearing. Nothing was to be seen of Larry and Tim, however, and the radio boys were mystified, as both their friends had refused to tell them what the act was like. Suddenly the first piping notes of a canary bird's song were heard, rising so clear and lifelike that even the boys themselves were deluded at first into thinking that they were listening to an actual bird. The canary song ended with a sustained trill, and then, soft and melodious, came the limpid notes of the mocking bird's song. By this time the audience had comprehended that this was in reality a clever human imitation of bird notes, and they applauded heartily. "Say!" whispered Jimmy, excitedly, "Larry has picked up a lot of new stuff since he was at Ocean Point. That was fine, wasn't it?" "Keep still," whispered Joe, fiercely. "We want to hear every bit of this." Jimmy subsided, and they all listened with keen delight as Larry imitated a host of feathered songsters, each one so true to life that the audience applauded again and again. At last Larry exhausted his repertoire, and for the first time appeared in the open, emerging from behind the trunk of a tree. He was heartily applauded, and as he bowed his way off the stage, the spotlight shifted, and Tim came onto the stage like a whirlwind, arms and legs flying as he did a complicated clog dance. At the most furious part Larry joined him, and they danced together, keeping such perfect time and going through such identical motions that it seemed as though they must be automatons actuated by the same string. As a spectacular finale to the act, each one was supposed to make a dash for one of the property trees in the background, climb up it and disappear in the branches as the curtain fell. With a final wild gyration that brought spontaneous applause from the audience, each one made for his appointed tree, and started up. Everything went as usual until Larry had almost reached the branches. Suddenly there came a cracking sound, the artificial tree swayed and tottered, and, amid horrified cries from the spectators, crashed to the stage, bringing down others on top of it as it fell. The radio boys had just time to see Larry lying, white and senseless, among the ruins when the curtain descended quickly, shutting off the scene of the accident from the audience. So suddenly had the thing happened that at first the boys could hardly believe the evidence of their eyes. For a few moments they gazed at one another in horrified silence, and then, as though all were moved simultaneously by the same thought, they rushed down the aisle and, before the ushers could stop them, climbed onto the stage. It took them a few seconds, that seemed like hours, to find their way behind the scenes to the place where the accident had occurred. Tim, aided by several stage hands, was frantically trying to release his partner from the heavy pieces of scenery that held him pinned down. Bob and his friends fell to the work of rescue with every ounce of energy and strength that they possessed, but, work as they did, it was a considerable time before they at last managed to free their unfortunate friend. A doctor had been sent for, and by the time Larry was laid, still unconscious, on a cot, the physician had arrived. As he made his examination his face grew more and more serious, and he shook his head doubtfully. "He's pretty badly hurt, I'm afraid," he said. "We must get him to a hospital as soon as possible. I have my car outside, and if some of you will carry him out, I'll take him there." In sorrowful silence Tim and the radio boys carried their injured friend out to the doctor's automobile. Tim got in with him, and Larry was whirled away to the hospital, where he faced a grim fight for life. The radio boys followed on foot, after first telephoning to their homes to explain why they would not be home until late. Meantime, in the theater, the performance had gone on after an announcement by the management that "Mr. Bartlett is but slightly hurt,"--so spoke the manager--"and has been taken to a hospital where he can receive better care than in the hotel." The radio boys followed the doctor's car to the hospital and spent an anxious hour in the waiting room while their friend was being thoroughly examined by the head physician, for of course the announcement at the theater had been made to quiet the audience, and no one yet knew just how serious Larry's injuries were. "We'll have to get Doctor Ellis to take care of him," said Bob, while they were waiting. "I'm awfully sorry your father isn't in town, Joe. Next to him Dr. Ellis is the best doctor in Clintonia, I guess." The others concurred in this view, and Bob promised to call up Dr. Ellis in the morning. After what seemed an endless wait the physician who had brought Larry to the hospital entered the waiting room. "I'm afraid you won't be able to see your friend to-night," he said. "His left arm is broken, and I think his back is injured, although I can't tell yet how seriously. By this time to-morrow night I'll be able to tell you more. Has he any relatives that should be notified of the accident?" "I know he has a mother, who is dependent on him," said Bob. "We've all heard him speak of her. I don't know where she lives, though, but probably Tim would have her address." "Whose address?" asked Tim, entering the room at that moment. "Larry's mother's," said Bob. "Do you know where she lives, Tim? As the doctor says, she ought to be notified about this." "Yes, I know where she can be reached," said Tim. "I'll write to her before I go to bed to-night. Poor Larry!" and Tim tried hard to wink the tears back, but with little success. "You mustn't feel too bad," advised the kindly doctor. "I think that there is little doubt that he will live, but as to whether or not he'll fully recover, I can't say yet. But we'll hope for the best, and you can rest assured that everything possible will be done for him." The boys thanked the doctor for the help he had given their unfortunate friend, and then, after taking a sorrowful leave of Tim, started homeward. The next few days were anxious ones for the radio boys. Larry hovered between life and death, and almost a week had passed before the doctors in charge of his case would say positively that he was going to pull through. At the end of that period the boys were allowed to see him, for a few minutes, after promising not to let him talk or to say anything to him that might excite him. Larry received them with his old cheerful grin, but the boys were shocked at his wan and wasted appearance, so different from his usual vigorous self. They did not let him see this, however, but talked and joked with him in the usual way, and when the doctor finally signaled for them to leave they had the satisfaction of knowing that they had cheered their friend up and left him looking happier than when they came. CHAPTER XI LIGHT OUT OF DARKNESS "It's going to be pretty hard for Larry when he does start to get around, I'm afraid," said Bob, after the boys had left the hospital. "Tim told me yesterday that Larry's mother is an invalid, and has to have a nurse all the time. Larry is her only support, and if he can't keep up his vaudeville career I don't see how either of them are going to get along." "It's pretty tough, all right," replied Joe. "The doctor says now that he'll be as strong as ever eventually, but he admits that it will be a long time until he is. I wish we could think of some way to help Larry out until he gets on his feet again." "Well, maybe we can," observed Bob, hopefully. "Although I must admit that I can't see much light on the subject just at present." "We'll have to get busy on our new radio set in earnest pretty soon," said Joe, after a pause in which each had been busy with his own thoughts. "We've spent so much of our time at the hospital with Larry that we haven't got more than about ten cents' worth done since the night of the accident." "We can plug right along with it now," said Bob. "And speaking of radio, who do you think called me up last night? I meant to tell you before, but I forgot all about it." "Who was it?" asked Herb. "Somebody we all know?" "You bet we all know him," said Bob, laughing. "It was Frank Brandon." "Frank Brandon!" they all exclaimed. "Where's he been keeping himself lately?" asked Joe. "He said that he had had to go to Florida on some government business connected with wireless, and he just got back to this part of the country yesterday," replied Bob. "He expected to be in Clintonia to-day, and said that if we were all going to be at my house to-night, he'd drop in and make us a visit." "I hope you told him that we'd be there," said Jimmy. "Of course I did," replied Bob. "You fellows had better get around bright and early this evening, because he said he'd be around right after supper. I know I've got plenty of questions I want to ask him, and I guess you have, too." "You can bet I have!" exclaimed Jimmy. "I want to ask him where he got that package of milk chocolate he had with him the last time I saw him. He gave me a piece, and believe me, it was about the best I've ever tasted." "There you go again," exclaimed Herb, with a laugh, "always thinking of that stomach of yours. Don't you ever think of anything serious?" "Serious?" echoed Jimmy. "It's a serious enough thing for me, where to get that milk chocolate. I've been in pretty nearly every candy store in town, but none of them seems to have anything quite so good." By this time the boys had reached Main Street, and they parted for the time being, promising to get to Bob's house as soon as they could after supper. The Layton family had hardly finished their evening meal when there came a ring at the doorbell, and Bob jumped up to admit the expected guest. "Hello, Mr. Brandon!" exclaimed Bob, as they both shook hands heartily. "It seems great to see you again." "I can say the same thing about you," replied Frank Brandon. "You're tanned like a life guard at Coney Island. I'll bet you haven't been far from salt water all summer." "You're right there," smiled Bob. "I was in the water so much that it's a wonder I didn't turn into a fish. The whole bunch of us had a wonderful time of it." "Good enough!" Brandon exclaimed, heartily. "Where's all the rest of your crowd this evening?" "They'll be around soon now. I'm expecting them any minute. There's Joe's whistle now! I thought he'd be along soon." As he finished speaking Joe came bounding up the porch two steps at a time, and he had hardly got inside and shaken hands with Brandon when Jimmy and Herb appeared together. There was great excitement while they exchanged greetings, and then they went into the parlor and were made welcome by Mr. and Mrs. Layton. "It seems good to get back in this town again," said Brandon, in a voice that carried conviction. "You folks have made me so welcome ever since we became acquainted that it seems almost like my own home town." "That's the way we want everybody to feel," smiled Mr. Layton. "Clintonia is a neighborly town, and we always do our best to make visitors feel at home." "I hear you've done a good deal of traveling since you were here last," said Mrs. Layton. "Yes, I had a little commission to execute for the government down in Miami," said Brandon. "A radio inspector is apt to be sent anywhere on short notice, you know." "How is your cousin, Mr. Harvey, getting along?" asked Bob. "Has he got entirely over his experience of last summer, when Dan Cassey knocked him out and stole his money?" "Oh, yes, he's all right now," responded Brandon. "I saw him only day before yesterday, and he couldn't get through talking about the way you fellows took charge of the station while he was down and out, and then got the money back afterward. That was mighty fine work, and you can believe both he and I are grateful to you for what you did." "Oh, that wasn't much," disclaimed Bob. "Besides, he'd done so much for us that we owed him something in return." "He didn't say anything about that," observed Brandon. "I suppose that's the last thing in the world he would mention," laughed Joe. "But he gave us all kinds of stuff on radio, and even loaned us a practice set to get the code with." "Don't forget about the motor boat," said Herb. "He was as generous with that as with everything else. We sure had some fine cruises in the old Sea Bird." "That sounds like him, all right," admitted Brandon. "There's hardly anything you could ask him for that he wouldn't cheerfully give you. He told me that you fellows were getting to be regular sharps at the radio game. Are you building any sets at present?" "You bet we are!" cried Bob. "Come on down to my workroom, and we'll show you what we're doing. We're working on a regular set this time." "I'm with you," said Brandon, heartily. "Come ahead and let's see what you've got. I suppose you'll be giving me pointers pretty soon." "Not for a little time yet, anyway," grinned Bob. "The government hasn't been after us yet begging us to take jobs in the radio department." "You never can tell," replied Brandon. "There's a big demand for radio men these days, and we're getting some pretty young chaps in our division." "We don't feel as though we'd much more than scratched the surface of radiophony yet," said Joe. "There's such an immense amount to be learned, and then there are new discoveries being made every day. It would take almost all a fellow's time just to keep up with new developments, let alone learn all the fundamentals." "That will all come in time," said the radio inspector. "You're on the right road now, anyway, and traveling pretty fast. Say!" he exclaimed, a moment later, as he was ushered into the workroom and caught sight of the new set, which was partially completed. "You're certainly going into it pretty heavily this time, aren't you? I didn't imagine you were working up anything so elaborate." "We thought we might as well make something pretty good while we were about it," said Bob. "It won't be much more work to make this set than a smaller one, and we expect to get a whole lot better results. Don't you think so yourself?" "There's no doubt about it," agreed Mr. Brandon. "When you get this set finished, you ought to be able to catch pretty near anything that happens to be flying around. Let's see how you intend to hook things up." The boys explained their ideas and methods in detail, while the radio man nodded appreciatively from time to time. Sometimes he interrupted to ask a question or make a suggestion, which was duly taken note of by the enthusiastic boys. "There doesn't seem to be a whole lot that I can tell you," remarked Frank Brandon, after they had gone over everything in detail. "You seem to have thought it out very thoroughly already, and outside of the few minor things I've already told you, I can't think of much to suggest. It looks to me as though you'd have a pretty good set there when you get through. "There's one tip I want to give you though," he went on. "And that is to be careful about your tuning. You've noticed, no doubt, that sometimes you get first-class results, and then again the reception is so unsatisfactory that you are disgusted. Now in nine times out of ten the whole trouble is that you haven't tuned your receiver properly. You can't do the thing in a haphazard fashion and get the signals clearly. You know what Michelangelo said about 'trifles that make perfection.' Well, it's something like that in tuning your receiver. "Now I see that in this receiver you have separate controls for the primary and secondary circuits. To tune in correctly you have to adjust both circuits to the wave length of the special signal that you are trying to get. "First you start in with a tentative adjustment of the first primary. Fix it, let us say, for between a third and a half of its maximum value. I see that here the coupling between the primary and secondary is adjustable, so place it at maximum at the start. Of course you know that maximum means the position in which the windings are closest to each other. "Then you fix up the secondary circuit for adjustment to the wave length, turning it slowly from minimum to maximum until you come to the point where the desired station is heard. When this is found, you again readjust the primary until you find the point of maximum loudness. "Now you see the advantage of this double control. If an interfering station butts in, just decrease the coupling between primary and secondary and then tune again the two circuits. You can feel pretty sure of cutting out the interference and getting clearly just the station that you want." "That's mighty good dope," said Bob. "I've had that trouble more than once and haven't been quite clear as to the best way of getting around it." "Then too," went on the radio expert, "you must be careful in adjusting the tickler that gives the regenerative effect. Start in slowly by turning the control knob toward the maximum. You'll soon strike a point where the signal will be loud and clear. Now when you've got to that point, don't overdo it. If you get too much regeneration, the quality of the notes becomes distorted and before you know it you have only a jumble. Let well enough alone is a good rule in tuning, as in many other things. When your coffee's sweet enough, another spoonful of sugar will only spoil it. Keep to the middle of the road. It isn't the loudest noise you want but the sweetest music. "Be careful, too," he urged, "not to have too brilliant a filament. It's wholly unnecessary to have it at a white heat, and you don't want to burn it out any more quickly than you have to. You can save money in reducing the filament brightness by increasing the regeneration, which will make up for the loss of brilliancy. "Now by keeping these things in mind," he concluded, "you'll be able to operate your set to the best advantage and get the satisfaction you are looking for." "We certainly hope to, anyway," said Bob. "We've put a lot of work and quite a little money into this outfit, and we'd be mightily disappointed if we didn't get good results." "There's not much doubt about that, I think," remarked Frank Brandon. "You ought to see some of the sets I come across! They look to be regular nightmares, but they get passable results, anyway. Radio is certainly getting to be a country-wide craze. Only the other day I was at one of the big broadcasting stations, and the manager told me that they were actually having trouble to get performers, there is such a demand for them. They seem to be especially hard up for novelty acts--something out of the ordinary. People get tired of the same old programmes night after night." "Say!" exclaimed Bob, struck by a sudden thought. "Why wouldn't that be just the thing for Larry when he gets a little better? He could do his bird imitations just as well as ever, and he could do it as well sitting in a chair, as far as that goes." "Bob, you said something!" exclaimed Joe, slapping him on the back. "That's just the kind of thing that would appeal to people, too. I'll bet he'd be a hit from the beginning." "Who is Larry?" asked Mr. Brandon, curiously. The excited boys told him all about their acquaintance with Larry and Tim up to the time of the almost fatal accident in the theater. Brandon listened attentively, and when they had finished sat thinking for several minutes. "Yes, I think it could be arranged all right," he said at last. "I know the manager of one big New Jersey broadcasting station personally, and I'm sure he'd be willing to give your friend a try-out. If he's as good as you say he is, they'd probably be glad to put him on the pay roll. From what you tell me, his act is certainly a novelty, and that's what they want." CHAPTER XII A GLAD ANNOUNCEMENT "We'll go and see Larry as soon as we get out of school to-morrow, and see what he says about it," said Bob. "But I guess there's no doubt of what he'll want to do. I know he's mighty worried about the future. He told me he didn't have much money saved up, and what he did have must be about gone by this time." "You do that," agreed Brandon. "And if he thinks favorably of the idea, I'll find time to go with him and you to the station I spoke of, and give him an introduction to the manager and see that he gets a try-out." "That's mighty good of you, Mr. Brandon," said Joe. "Larry is such a fine fellow that when you get to know him you'll feel as interested in seeing him get along as we are." "That's likely enough," said Brandon. "Anyway, if we didn't help each other out a little, this old world wouldn't be much of a place to live in." After a little further conversation, Brandon rose to go. "I've got a pretty busy day ahead of me to-morrow, so I think I'd better turn in rather early to-night," he said. "Just give me a call at the hotel any time you want me, or, better yet, come and pay me a visit in person. You know you'll always be welcome." "You bet we'll come," promised Jimmy. "Jimmy's thinking of some special milk chocolate you gave him once, and is hoping you may have some more of it," laughed Joe. "I wasn't thinking anything of the kind!" exclaimed Jimmy, indignantly. "What do you think I am, anyway?" "We'd hate to tell you that," said Herb, with a wicked grin. "It would hurt your feelings too much, Doughnuts." "I think I know what chocolate he refers to," said Brandon, laughing. "And I don't wonder that you remember it, Jimmy. It certainly was good, but I'm afraid you won't be able to find any more like it around here. It was sent to me from Vermont by a married sister of mine who lives there." "Poor old Jimmy!" exclaimed Bob. "You're out of luck this time, old timer. If you had only known that, you wouldn't have had to make that heartbreaking search all over Clintonia." "Oh, I didn't mind it so much," said his good-natured friend. "I had a lot of fun sampling all the different varieties, anyway." "I'll say you did," said Herb. "I'll bet you were glad of an excuse." "Don't need an excuse," retorted Jimmy. "I guess there's no law against eating chocolate, is there?" "If there were, you'd be serving a life sentence now," said Joe, heartlessly. "From the way you talk, I guess you don't like chocolate, so you won't want any of this," and Jimmy proceeded to unwrap a sizable bundle that he had brought with him, but had forgotten in the excitement of Brandon's visit. "I didn't say that, did I?" asked Joe, in a tone of injured innocence. "No such luck," said Jimmy. "Maybe if you didn't want any, the rest of us might get enough for once. But I suppose you'll want it all, as usual." "Nothing of the kind," denied Joe. "I'm perfectly willing to go on a fifty-fifty basis. Half for me and half for the rest is all I ask. That's perfectly fair, isn't it?" "It's fair enough for you, perhaps, but it doesn't make much of a hit with us," laughed Bob. "Don't take any notice of him, Jimmy. Just take your knife and break that chocolate up into lumps, and let's find out what it tastes like." "You'd better wait a few minutes and sample this, Mr. Brandon," said Jimmy, doing as Bob directed. "I'll guarantee that it's the best to be gotten in Clintonia, anyway. I've shopped around this town looking for your brand of chocolate until I'm an expert in that line." The chocolate disappeared as if by magic, and Frank Brandon rose once more to go. "I'm really going this time," he laughed. "It won't make any difference if you bring out a dozen packages, Jimmy." "I only wish I had 'em to bring out," sighed that individual. "I wish you had, too," said Herb. "Why didn't you get some more while you were about it, Doughnuts?" "You fellows are certainly hard to please," laughed Brandon. "But I must go now. I hope you'll all drop into the hotel when you get a chance, and we'll smooth out some more radio kinks. I have some good books in my trunk, too, that might be of some help." "We'll be glad to come," said Bob, heartily. "We'll all drop in some evening around the first of the week, shan't we, fellows?" Of course, they all agreed to this, and then Brandon took his leave, accompanied by Joe and Herb and Jimmy as far as their respective homes. The next day the radio boys were eager to tell Larry about the conversation they had had with Frank Brandon concerning him, and the bright prospects the radio man had held out for his successful employment. They could hardly wait for three o'clock to come, and the bell had hardly rung when they were all out in the street ready to make a quick trip to the hospital. "Come on, fellows," called Bob. "They say that bad news travels fast, but let's prove that good news can hit it up once in a while, too. I'll bet old Larry will be happier this evening than he has been for a long time." "That speed stuff is all right for you fellows, but don't forget that I'm built more for comfort than speed," grumbled Jimmy. "Set your own pace, though, Bob, and I'll try to keep up, even if it kills me." "It will be more apt to do you good," said Herb, as they all set off at a brisk dog trot. "There's no doubt that you need more exercise than you get, Doughnuts." "I get more than I want already," said Jimmy, who was beginning to puff and pant. The others had no mercy on him, though, and when at last they reached the hospital poor Doughnuts was, as he himself said, "all in." Larry was glad to see them. He was feeling rather blue for, in a roundabout way, a report had reached him that Buck Looker was still connecting himself and Tim with the loss of the watch and other things of value at the hotel dance. Buck had intimated that the two vaudeville performers might have passed the stolen things over to some confederate. "It's certainly wonderful to have you fellows spend so much of your time with a poor old cripple like me," he said, with a smile in which there was a trace of tears. "I don't know what I'd ever do if you didn't. Tim's a good sort about writing, but I am lonesome and every hour seems to me like a day." "What do you mean, 'old cripple'?" scoffed Bob. "Why, the doctor says he'll have you out of here and as good as ever in a little while." "A 'little while' may mean almost anything," said Larry, with a sad smile. "But I'm not kicking, you understand," he added, quickly. "I know I'm mighty lucky to be alive." "You're not only alive, but you're going to be mighty busy pretty soon, if you happen to feel like holding down a good job," said Bob. CHAPTER XIII FULL OF PROMISE "What do you mean 'good job'?" asked Larry, incredulously, and yet with a note of hope in his voice. "You know I can't even get around easily yet." "Yes, but you're getting stronger every day," argued Bob. "In a week or so you won't know yourself. Now, here's the proposition we've got for you," and Bob proceeded to outline the plan that they had worked out the previous evening. As he proceeded, a light came into the sick boy's eyes that had not been there since the accident, and a touch of color crept into his cheeks. "Say!" he broke out, when Bob had finished, "you fellows are about the best friends that anybody ever had." "Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed Bob. "Why, you know well enough that you'd do anything in the world for one of us if our positions were reversed." "Well, it will be simply wonderful for me," said Larry. "Of course, though, I may be counting the chickens before they are hatched. The manager of the station may not like my act, you know." "It's more a question of whether the public will like it or not," said Joe. "Mr. Brandon seems to be sure that the manager will give you a try-out, and I guess they'll soon find out whether your act is popular or not. Judging from the applause you got in the theater that night, I should certainly say it was." "I only wish I were strong enough to go right away," said Larry. "But I guess I won't be able to go this week, anyway." "We didn't suppose you would," said Bob. "But Mr. Brandon is going to make his headquarters in Clintonia for several weeks, so you don't have to worry about that. As soon as the doctor says you can make the trip, we'll see if we can't borrow or beg an automobile somewhere, and make the trip to the sending station in style." "Now that I've got something to look forward to, I'll get well in a hurry," Larry assured him. "Let's see if you can still make the little birdies jealous by singing their songs better than they can," suggested Jimmy. "You certainly flatter me, but I'll do the best I can," laughed Larry. "What shall it be first?" "How about the mocking bird?" suggested Herb. "I think that's one of the prettiest ones, Larry. I never heard a southern mocking bird, but if it sounds like that, I'm going to take a trip to Dixieland some day just to hear one." "I never heard one, either," confessed Larry, with a grin. "You didn't!" they all exclaimed. "Where did you learn it, then?" "A professional bird imitator taught me most of the notes," said Larry. "Of course, I didn't need any lessons to imitate the cute little canary bird, and the robin's notes and a few others I learned by listening to the birds themselves. I suppose it would be best to learn them all that way, if you could, but I never had the time or the money to go traveling all over the country." "Well, we're still waiting for the mocking bird," Herb reminded him. "I'll sing 'Listen to the Mocking Bird,' and you come in at the proper places with the bird effects." "Nobody asked you to sing, did they?" asked Jimmy. "No, they didn't; but I'm going to sing, anyway," answered Herb, and he started the first bars of the well known song. "We might as well all sing, then," said Bob. "We can't make it any worse than Herb's singing, anyway," so they all joined in the song. At the end of each line they paused, and Larry gave the proper bird notes and trills. The result was not half bad, and before they had finished other convalescent patients had come into the room and were listening appreciatively. The boys all had their backs to the door, and did not know they had an audience until they came to the end of the song and there was a round of applause for their effort. They all whirled around in some surprise. "I didn't know we were making anybody suffer but ourselves," laughed Bob. "It must be pretty hard on you folks." "It sounded fine," said one. "We enjoyed it. Why don't you try something else?" "Couldn't think of it," said Bob. "Besides, I guess that's about the only song we all know except the 'Star Spangled Banner,' and there aren't any bird songs in that. You give them some more imitations, though, Larry. You will be all the better for the practice, anyway." "Anything to oblige," grinned Larry, and went through his whole repertoire, while the little audience applauded freely. "There! that's all I know," said Larry at last, when he had imitated every kind of bird he could think of. "I'll have to get busy and learn some more, I guess." "We didn't know we had such a talented young man in the place," said one elderly gentleman. "You'll have to entertain us every day while you're here, young man." "Well, if you folks can stand it, I can," laughed Larry. "I'll always be glad to oblige, I'm sure." His appreciative listeners thanked him, and gradually drifted out of the room. "You made a hit, Larry," said Bob. "It's just as I tell you. Your art is a novelty, and people are tickled to death with it. You won't have to worry about making good when you get your try-out at the broadcasting station." "I hope you're right," said Larry. "I can't wait until I'm strong enough, to take the trip. Anyway, I'll have something to look forward to now." The time had passed so quickly that the boys could hardly believe it when Bob looked at his watch and told them it was nearly six o'clock. "Good-night!" exclaimed Joe. "We'll all be late for supper now. Guess we'll have to say good-bye and beat it, Larry." "I suppose so," said Larry, regretfully. "I want to thank you all again for what you've done for me, and believe me, I appreciate it." They all shook hands with him, and then started for home at a brisk pace. "Seems to me we're always in a hurry," complained Jimmy. "You pretty near run my legs off getting here, and now I've got to repeat the performance going home, or else get a cold supper when I get there. I wonder why I'm always out of luck that way." "You'd better save your breath, instead of wasting it in kicking," Joe admonished him. "You'll need it all before you get home, I'll tell you. Let's hit it up a little faster, fellows. Jimmy wants to get home before his supper gets cold, so we'll have to see that he gets there." "Come on, Doughnuts, step on the throttle," cried Herb. "Show us what you really can do." "Nothing doing," panted Jimmy. "My throttle's wide open now. You fellows go ahead if you're in such a hurry." "I guess there's no such rush as that," said Bob, slowing down to a pace more suited to Jimmy's limited speed. "Take it easy, old man. We're not going to a fire, after all." CHAPTER XIV AN IMPROMPTU FEAST "Anybody would think we were, to look at us," puffed Jimmy. "Whew, I'm all in!" and he slowed down to a walk. "Well, we're almost home, anyway," said Bob. "Take your time, Jimmy. We'd hate to have you die of apoplexy." "You wouldn't hate it nearly as much as I would," said Jimmy, beginning to get his breath again. "Just think of what the world would lose if anything were to happen to me." "It's too terrible to think about," said Bob, with mock gravity. "I suppose the old world would stop spinning if you should kick the bucket, Jimmy." "Maybe not as bad as that," interposed Herb. "But a lot of doughnut manufacturers would have to go out of business, I know that." "Aw, you know too much!" exclaimed Jimmy, scornfully. "At least, you think you do, which is worse. I don't see what you have to go to high school for, anyway. You know all there is to know, already." "I don't know but what you're right," agreed Herb, complacently. "But the trouble is, I can't seem to get the teachers to believe it. Maybe you'll be nice enough to explain things to them to-morrow, Jimmy?" "Explain nothing!" exclaimed Jimmy. "They'd soon think I was as foolish as you, and I'd hate to get a rep. like that." "Harsh words," laughed Bob. "You fellows had better quit saying nice things about one another, or you'll be mixing it first thing you know." "No chance," denied Herbert, with a grin. "I'm too hungry to think of scrapping, and I'll bet Jimmy is too. How about it, old pal?" "I should say so!" agreed Jimmy. "Thank heaven we're almost home. If we had much further to go, I guess you'd have to carry me." They were indeed almost home by this time, and branched off to their respective houses. Though they were all late, they managed to make up for lost time in the way of eating and their mothers had reason to be thankful that they were not late very often. An interesting bit of information came about this time in the news conveyed by Mr. Rockwell to Mr. Layton, whom he had chanced to meet on a train, that the motor boat which had run down Larry and his companions had been found in a remote inlet some distance down the coast, where it had evidently been deserted by the men who had stolen it. From sundry papers that had been left on the boat, through an oversight of the rascals, it was gathered that they were members of a gang of hotel thieves who had been "working" the hotels at the summer resorts along the coast, where a long list of unsolved robberies had been perpetrated. The police were working on the case, but the thieves had not yet been apprehended. "Well," said Bob, when he heard the news, "it's good to know that Mr. Wentworth got his motor boat back anyway. But I won't be satisfied till I hear that the police have landed the thieves." "Same here," said Joe. "But it's like looking for a needle in a haystack. They may be out on the Pacific coast by this time." The boys worked hard on their big set for the next few days, spending all the time on it that they could spare from their studies. They found time, however, to visit Mr. Brandon, as they had promised, and had a royal good time in his rooms at the hotel. They laughed and joked and talked radio to their hearts' content. Toward the end of the evening Mr. Brandon called on Jimmy for some expert advice. "Jimmy," he said, "I've been thinking that a little--or rather, a lot--of ice cream and cake would go well. What is your honest opinion on the subject?" "I don't think you could have a much better idea, no matter how hard you tried," said Jimmy, gravely. "Probably not," agreed Brandon, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Now, as we're agreed as to that, can I call on you for advice and assistance?" "You certainly can," said Jimmy, slightly mystified, but ready for anything, nevertheless. "Well, then, to come to the point, will you go out with me and give me the benefit of your expert advice as to the best place in this neighborhood to buy the aforementioned ice cream and cake?" "You bet I will," said Jimmy, with alacrity. "And without seeming to boast," he added, "you couldn't have picked out any one who knows more about that particular subject than yours truly." "All right, I suppose I'll have to believe you," laughed Frank Brandon. "I have every confidence in you, Jimmy." As the event proved, this confidence was not misplaced. Both the ice cream and cake were all that heart could wish, and moreover were served in generous quantities. At the end of the feast they all expressed themselves as perfectly satisfied with Jimmy's selections, and Bob moved that they give him and Mr. Brandon a vote of thanks. "If Uncle Sam lets me stay in Clintonia long enough, we'll have to have another party like this," said Brandon. "And maybe by that time your sick friend will be well enough to come. I'd surely be glad to see him, if he can and would care to. By the way, when will he be well enough for us to take him to the broadcasting station?" "We were out to see him yesterday," answered Bob; "and it's wonderful the improvement he's made since we told him about our plans for him. He looked a hundred per cent. better, and the doctor told him he could go Saturday afternoon, if he kept on making the same progress." "Fine!" exclaimed the wireless man. "I usually have Saturday afternoons off, and if you boys want to take him then, it will be all right for me, unless something very important comes up that I can't sidetrack." "That suits us," said Bob. "I spoke to Doctor Dale about Larry the other day, and he volunteered to drive us to the station in his car. That was some offer, wasn't it?" "It's no more than I'd expect of him," said Brandon. "Right after we first talked about that plan I wrote to the manager of the station, Mr. Allard, and he said to bring your friend along by all means. He's on the lookout for talent, as I told you, and will be only too glad to give him a trial." "That sounds promising," said Bob. "What do you say if we stop at the hospital to-morrow afternoon, fellows, and tell Larry about it and find out if he'll be strong enough to go?" "I'm afraid you'll have to count me out," said Jimmy. "I've got some work I'll have to do for dad, if we're going to be away Saturday afternoon. But you fellows go anyway, and tell him I was sorry that I couldn't get there." "We'll do that then, and count on you sure for Saturday afternoon," said Bob. "Oh, sure thing! I'll be with you then," promised Jimmy. "I wouldn't miss that for a farm." That matter being satisfactorily settled, the boys said good-night to their host, after assuring him that they had had a "bang-up" time. Their leave-taking must have wakened any light sleepers in the hotel, but they got out at last and headed for home, all of them enthusiastic in praise of their friend Frank Brandon. "I only wish we could have had Larry here to-night," said Joe, regretfully. "I'll bet he'd have enjoyed it first rate. But I suppose there'll be plenty of other times." "I wish Mr. Brandon were going to be stationed in Clintonia all the time," said Bob. "He's been such a good friend to us that I'll feel mighty bad if he has to go away again." They all felt the same way, and said so. "But there's no use crossing that bridge until we come to it," said Joe, philosophically. "As long as he's covering this territory, he'll make his headquarters in Clintonia, that's pretty certain." The next day the boys met as they had planned, immediately after school was out, and headed directly for the hospital and their convalescent friend. What with jokes and laughter the distance seemed short enough. Needless to say, Larry was overjoyed to see them. "I certainly look forward to having you fellows visit me," he said. "You're as welcome as letters from home. I get pretty blue sitting around here by my lonesome all day." "How do you feel to-day?" asked Bob. "Do you feel well enough to go after a soft job next Saturday?" "I never did feel so sick that I couldn't go after a job that was guaranteed to be soft," grinned Larry. "All right, then," laughed Bob. "Be ready to go next Saturday afternoon. We'll call for you in Doctor Dale's automobile. He's promised to take the whole bunch of us to the broadcasting station." "Pretty soft," said Larry. "How do you fellows come to rate an automobile?" "Oh, we've got a big drag around this town," replied Bob. "I guess they'd give us the Town Hall if we asked for it." "You hate yourselves, don't you?" asked Larry. "That isn't as big a claim as it may seem," remarked Joe. "The Town Hall is so old that I think they'd be glad of an excuse to give it away. But they won't build a new one until the old one falls down." "That's the way with all these bush league towns," remarked Larry, with a wicked grin. "You're getting well all right," laughed Bob. "When you begin knocking again it's a sure sign that you're getting back to form." "You bet I am," returned Larry. "I'll be as good as ever in a little while. Now that I can begin to see where the next square meal is coming from, it gives me some incentive to get well." "Well, it's fine to hear you say so," declared Bob. "We'll call for you around one o'clock Saturday, and we'll be at the station about four. Then if you don't convince them that your imitation of bird songs is better than the little birdies themselves, we'll murder you." "I wish I could get in as solid with every audience I play to as I am with you fellows," said Larry. "Life would be one grand, sweet song." "You'll get in solid enough to be able to drag down good pay, don't worry about that," replied Joe. "Well, we'll know more about it after Saturday afternoon," said Larry. "Until then, hope hard." This seemed to sum up the situation fairly well, and after a little further conversation the radio boys said good-by to their friend and took their leave, delighted over his improved condition. Improved not only in body but in mind. The pain of his physical hurts had been hard enough for Larry to bear, but this was little compared to the mental worry he had been undergoing ever since the accident had interfered with his money-earning power and threatened to make him a cripple for life. During his brief engagement with the Chasson show he had loyally sent home to his mother every dollar he could save from his salary over and above his necessary expenses, which by rigid economy he kept as low as possible. But much of this his mother had been compelled to use to pay debts incurred during his previous period of idleness, and he knew that she had very little on hand. Her enfeebled condition had added to his anxiety, and he had had many hours of mental anguish as he looked toward the dark and lowering future. Now, however, he saw light, and his heart went out in the warmest gratitude toward the good friends who had come to his help in his extremity and made it possible to see a rainbow in the skies that had been so full of clouds. "Now, if I could only prove that Tim and I weren't guilty of that robbery at the hotel dance, I would be all right," Larry told himself. He felt sure that the evil-minded Buck Looker was still holding that happening against him. The days intervening until Saturday sped quickly. Dr. Dale was true to the promise he had made Bob, and was ready with his car when the radio boys assembled at his house. Since Bob had told him about Larry's unfortunate condition, the doctor had interested himself in the case and had been to visit Larry once or twice at the hospital. He had conceived a liking for the injured boy, which had made him accede all the more readily to Bob's request for the automobile. CHAPTER XV GETTING A TRIAL Doctor Dale met the boys at the door as they came up. "I'll be ready in a few minutes," he told them, as he admitted them to the parlor. "Make yourselves comfortable while I get my hat and coat on, and we'll get started." He left the room, only to reappear a few moments later in full motoring regalia. "All ready," he announced. "Come on out to the garage and we'll get started. Mr. Brandon called me up this morning, and he'll be waiting for us at his hotel." The boys piled into the big seven passenger touring car and were whisked down to Mr. Brandon's hotel. He was ready and waiting and jumped into the car almost before it had stopped. From there they sped quickly to the hospital, and Bob and Joe helped Larry into the car. "This is certainly a wonderful day for me," said Larry. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you folks for all that you have done for me." "Don't even try to," said Bob. "Don't worry about it, and we'll agree not to." "Well, we'll let it go at that," said Larry. "But if I don't say any more, you'll know I'm grateful, anyway." "You've got nothing to be grateful about yet," Joe reminded him. "They may throw you out, and that's nothing to be thankful for." "Ouch!" exclaimed Larry. "Please don't mention it." "Don't cross that bridge till we come to it," advised Jimmy. "I've got some chocolate almond bars that I'll guarantee will make you forget all your troubles while you're eating them." "That's Jimmy's remedy for all troubles," said Herb. "Eat and forget them is his motto." "Well, it isn't such a bad one," remarked Frank Brandon. "I've often known my troubles to look a lot less serious after a square meal." "You bet," agreed Jimmy. "I know I _always_ feel better myself after a square meal." "I guess we all do," said Dr. Dale. "And that reminds me that I want you all to come to my house for supper to-night after we get back." "I guess we'll be glad to go all right," said the radio expert. "But when you see what we do to the food, you'll probably be sorry you asked us." "I'll take a chance on that," laughed Dr. Dale. "I generally have a pretty good appetite myself after a motoring trip, and you young fellows will have to step some to beat me." "Well, we'll back Jimmy against any entry," grinned Bob. "We plan to enter him in a pie-eating contest some day, and when we do we'll bet a lot of money on him to win." "I'll do my best to justify your confidence," retorted Jimmy. "I wouldn't mind backing myself with a small piece of change. Pies just seem to be my natural prey." "Wait till I get well again," said Larry. "And you'll have some competition from me. It has always been my highest ambition to be around some day when a pie wagon gets hit by an automobile." "Jerusalem!" said Jimmy. "That would be heaven on earth, wouldn't it?" "That's probably your idea of it," said Joe. "I suppose you'd rather have streets paved with pie than with gold." "Oh, well, what's the use of talking about it?" sighed Jimmy. "It's all too good to be true anyway." "It's a wonder you fellows wouldn't cut out that talk and look at the landscape a little," said Bob. "You're missing some pretty fine scenery." "It is beautiful," remarked Frank Brandon. "It's too bad we haven't got further to go, as long as Doctor Dale is buying the gasoline." "Oh, it's cheap at any price," laughed Dr. Dale. "I don't know what I would ever do without this car." The miles rolled rapidly behind them, and before they realized it they were on the outskirts of New York. The boys thoroughly enjoyed the ride through the city; probably more than did Dr. Dale, to whom the heavy traffic was anything but a pleasure. They finally reached the downtown ferries, however, and after a slight wait in line, got on a boat. The boys were absorbed by the busy scene presented by the river which was covered with craft of all descriptions. The big ferryboat edged its way across the river without mishap and bumped into its slip. The traffic on the New Jersey side was hardly less dense than that which they had encountered in New York, but Dr. Dale skillfully threaded his way through it and after a drive through narrow streets lined by foundries and factories, and across the broad meadows, and past more places of business, they at last drew up before the big broadcasting station. "Well, here we are," said Dr. Dale, relaxing after the strain of traffic driving. "How do you feel, Larry? Strong for anything?" "I'm a little shaky, but I guess I'll get through with it all right," replied Larry. "Just lead me to it." The boys assisted him into the radio station, where Mr. Brandon introduced them all to the manager, Mr. Allard. "You're just in time," said the latter. "We need somebody to substitute in our program to-night, as one of the regular performers is ill. Come up to the sending room and we'll give your young friend a trial." "Go to it, old boy," encouraged Bob, in a whisper. "Show him what's what. Remember that we're all rooting for you." Larry pressed his hand, but had no time to answer before they were ushered up to the sending room. One wall of this apartment was covered with complicated-looking electrical apparatus, a good deal of which the boys recognized but which appeared very mysterious to poor Larry. "For testing purposes, our apparatus is so rigged up that we can hear, in this room, exactly what goes out over the wires," the manager explained. "If you gentlemen will sit at that table over there, and all put on headphones, you can hear your friend's performance exactly as it will sound to everybody else who is listening to this station." "Did you get that?" whispered the irrepressible Herb. "He called us gentlemen." "Shut up," whispered Bob. "He didn't mean you, anyway." Following the manager's instructions, Larry took up his position at a short distance from an instrument called a microphone, and at a signal from Mr. Allard commenced his bird imitations. The manager had donned earphones like all the rest, and the little company listened with varying emotions as Larry went through his repertoire. His friends were praying fervently for his success and were delighted as they realized that he was surpassing any of his previous efforts. The manager's attitude was critical, but as Larry went from one imitation to another the boys could see from the expression of his face that he was pleased. Larry rose to his opportunity nobly, and as he realized that he was making a good impression added trills and notes that he had never thought of before. By the time he had finished, all doubt had vanished from Mr. Allard's mind. "I guess we can use you all right, young man," he said. "Do you think you can fill in this evening? I need somebody to round out the bedtime programme at seven o'clock, and I imagine your act ought to go well at that time." "Anything you say, sir," answered Larry, "will suit me." "I can put you up here for to-night," volunteered Mr. Allard. "And if you don't feel strong enough to work regularly for a week or so, you can go back to-morrow and report for your regular performance a week from to-day." "I think that would be best," put in Frank Brandon. "I imagine Mr. Bartlett will need at least another week before he'll be able to work steadily." Larry was but little older than the radio boys, and Herb was in an ecstasy of delight over Brandon's "Mr. Bartlett." "But if you stay here to-night you'll miss having dinner at Doctor Dale's house!" cried Jimmy, impulsively. "Guess it can't be helped," said Larry, with a laugh, in which the others joined. "Business before pleasure, you know, Jimmy." "That's what dad always tells me, too," grumbled Jimmy. "But personally, I'd rather have the pleasure first, and let the business take its chance afterward." "Don't you believe it," said Mr. Allard. "There are too many people doing that already. It's a system that will never help you to put money in the bank, my boy." "He'll probably find that out for himself sooner or later," said Mr. Brandon. "I used to feel the same way, but I've got over it." "We'll all be sorry that you can't be with us to-night, Larry," said Dr. Dale, kindly. "But we'll be home in time to listen to your first radio performance this evening, so you'll know that we're hearing you just the same as though we were in this room with you." "I'll be sure of that, Doctor Dale," said Larry. "But I know I'll be missing a fine supper at your house, and you know how I'd like to be there. I'll be back in Clintonia to-morrow, anyway." "But how are you going to travel back alone?" asked Bob. "You're not strong enough to go sailing around all by your lonesome yet." "Don't let that worry you," replied Mr. Allard. "I'll see that somebody goes to the train with him, and I guess one of you fellows won't mind meeting him at the train at the other end." "I rather guess not," said Bob, emphatically. "We'll be there with bells on, Larry; you can bet on that." "It seems as though I'm making you all a lot of trouble," said Larry. "I guess I could get along all right." "We'll be there, so there's no use of your saying any more about it," said Bob, in a voice of finality. "How about it, fellows?" All the radio boys were of the same mind, so Larry was forced to give in. "But if you're going to get back to Clintonia in time to hear my act at seven o'clock, you'll have to leave pretty soon," he said. "I'm not going to detain you here any longer." "I'm afraid we will have to be going," said Dr. Dale, glancing at his watch. "The ferries are apt to be crowded at this hour, too. But we'll wish you all success at your new venture, Larry. If you always do as well as you did this afternoon, you'll soon be acquiring a big reputation." They all shook hands with Larry and Mr. Allard, and went out to where Dr. Dale's automobile was waiting for them. "I guess Larry was right when he said we'd have to make time going back," said Mr. Brandon. "It's three o'clock now, which doesn't leave us much of a margin." "That's very true," conceded Dr. Dale. "But if we can have any luck in getting over the ferry and through New York traffic, we'll make it. Once out of the city, and I'll show you what my car can do in the way of eating up miles." CHAPTER XVI SPEED Fortunately they met with very little delay in crossing the ferry, and Dr. Dale, in going through New York, avoided as far as possible the more congested thoroughfares. In a comparatively short time they had reached the outskirts, and Dr. Dale began to speed up a bit. As they reached the more open country, Dr. Dale opened the throttle wider, and the big car responded with a dash and power that delighted the boys. Mile after mile they reeled off, the wind whistling in their ears and making conversation difficult. The boys did not mind this, however, as they were enjoying the excitement of speed too much to have any desire to talk. Slowing down for the towns, but speeding up again on the open road, the big car put mile after mile behind it, until the boys began to recognize the towns they passed through. "Say!" yelled Joe, trying to make himself heard above the roar of the motor and the whistling of the wind, "aren't we making time, though? At this rate we'll get home with time to spare." "You bet!" shouted Bob. "Isn't this a peach of a ride?" "Only about six miles more to Clintonia," shouted Frank Brandon, from the front seat which he shared with Dr. Dale. Most of that six miles consisted of new concrete state road as smooth and level as a billiard table. Up and up crept the speedometer needle, and the big car seemed to be fairly flying. Fences and trees flashed past them, and the smooth road seemed like a river flowing toward them. The boys were intoxicated with the wild thrill and exhilaration of speed, and laughed and shouted and pounded each other on the back. For several miles the speedometer needle never receded, and not until the roofs and church steeples of Clintonia were visible in the distance did Dr. Dale slacken pace and bring the big machine down to a sedate twenty-five miles an hour. "Well, how did you like that?" he inquired, turning around for a moment to glance at the excited boys. "Was that fast enough to please you?" "It was great!" declared Bob. "This car can certainly step along when you want it to." "We'll be at my house in less than ten minutes. I hope you all feel as though you could eat a little something." "Eat!" exclaimed Jimmy, in heartfelt tones. "Why, I'm so hungry I've been tempted to start in and eat the upholstery once or twice." "Please don't," laughed Dr. Dale. "It's too expensive, besides being indigestible. Control yourself for a few minutes, and I'll promise you something much better than leather to eat." "All right, then, I'll do the best I can," promised Jimmy, with a grin. "We have to pass Antonio's shoe repairing store before we get to Doctor Dale's house, and if you like, I'll get out and buy you a nice big chunk of sole leather, Jimmy," suggested Joe. "If you really want something along that line, it seems a shame not to let you have it." "Thanks all the same, but I wouldn't like to put you to all that trouble," said Jimmy, with elaborate politeness. Joe was about to protest that he would not mind the trouble in the least, but before he had time to the car drew up in front of Dr. Dale's house. Mrs. Dale was waiting for them on the front porch. "I was beginning to get worried over you," she said. "But I suppose you found it quite a long trip, didn't you?" "I can't say that it seemed very long to us," replied Mr. Brandon, smiling. "When you're in a car, you don't seem to think of the time much." "Yes, I've noticed that myself," she admitted. "But you've arrived in time for supper, and that's the main thing. How did your young friend make out? Didn't you bring him back with you?" "No, they intend to include him in the bedtime programme for kiddies this evening," explained Brandon. "It starts at seven o'clock, and Larry's performance should come in about half past seven. We'll just about have time to eat before we start listening for him." In a very few minutes they were all seated about Dr. Dale's hospitable table, and it is hardly necessary to record the fact that they did full justice to their hostess' cooking. As they neared the end of the meal, Dr. Dale glanced at his watch. "I know it is considered very impolite to hurry one's guests," he said; "but just the same, it is so near now to the time that Larry is scheduled that I propose that we postpone dessert until after we have heard him. Then we can take our time, and do both Larry and the dessert full justice." They all acceded laughingly to this proposition, and a few minutes later filed into the room where the doctor kept his radio apparatus. His set was equipped with a loud talking device, so that individual headphones were not necessary. With a few touches he adjusted his coils and condensers, and had no difficulty in picking up the broadcasting station. At the moment some one was telling a "bedtime story" for the little folks, and, as it happened, this was the last thing on the programme preceding Larry's act. When the narrator had finished, there came a short pause, and then the familiar voice of the announcer. "The next number on this programme will be a novelty, an imitation of various bird calls and songs, given by Mr. Larry Bartlett." The sonorous voice of the announcer ceased, and the little group in Dr. Dale's house waited expectantly for the first notes of their friend's performance. "Hooray!" shouted Jimmy, as the first notes of the mocking bird's song floated clear and true from the horn. "Hooray for Larry, the champion whistler of the universe!" The others laughed at his enthusiasm, but they were almost as excited themselves. When at last their friend concluded his performance with a trill and a flourish, they all gave the three cheers that Jimmy had suggested, and wished they had a sending set so that they could congratulate Larry on the spot. "That surely sounded well," said Dr. Dale, when their delight had somewhat subsided. "This may be the beginning of big things for Larry, because it will not take him long to become known when he has an audience of somewhere around a half a million people every evening." "That's true enough," said Frank Brandon. "But it seems hard to realize that science has really made such a thing possible." "I'm ready to believe that nothing is impossible these days," said Dr. Dale. "If I read in the paper some day that we had got into wireless communication with Mars, I should believe it easily enough. In fact, I'd hardly feel surprised." "I'm sure I shouldn't," agreed the radio expert. "A person has to have a receptive mind to keep up with these quick-moving times." "You're right," agreed Dr. Dale. "But now, as we've heard Larry and feel reasonably sure that his performance has been a success, I propose that we go back and have our dessert. Does that meet with your approval, Jimmy?" "Does it!" exclaimed Jimmy. "I should say so. I never feel as though I'd really had anything much to eat unless I have dessert to top off with." "After the dinner you ate, I don't really believe you could feel hungry, even if you didn't have dessert," said Herbert. "That must be just one of your phony jokes," said Jimmy. "You know I was sitting beside you, Herb, and I felt pretty lucky to get anything to eat at all. Anybody within three places of you on each side doesn't have much of a show, you know." "It's no use you're talking that way," said Herbert. "Everybody here knows you too well, Doughnuts. You've got a reputation as an eats hound that you'll never be able to live down." "Oh, well, I don't care," said Jimmy, soothed by the sight of a big apple pie that was on the table. "That's better than having a reputation for making punk jokes like yours. If I eat too much, I'm the only one that gets a stomach ache from it, but your jokes give everybody a pain." CHAPTER XVII VAULTING AMBITION "Bang!" exclaimed Bob, with a laugh. "That was saying something, Jimmy. You surely hit the bull's-eye plumb in the center that time. Guess that will hold you a while, Herb." "It was a terrible slam," acknowledged Herb. "If I weren't so busy eating this pie, Jimmy, I'd be tempted to make you take back those cruel words." "Nary take," said Jimmy, positively. "I said 'em, and I'll stick by 'em. Besides, it's so. Isn't it, Bob? I'll leave it to you." "Well," said Bob, "in the interests of truth I'll have to admit that as a rule I'd rather have a stomach ache than listen to one of Herb's home-made jokes. But on the other hand, some of them aren't so awfully bad. If you took one and polished it up a bit here and there and changed it around a little, it might be good enough to raise a laugh in an insane asylum." "It seems to me I remember once, a long time ago, when he made a joke that was so funny that we all laughed at it," said Joe. "It hardly seems possible, but I'm almost sure I remember it." "Oh, you're all bugs, anyway, so that doesn't prove anything," said Herb, calmly finishing the last of his pie. "But some day, when I become a world-famous humorist, you'll realize how dumb you were not to appreciate my jokes. Now you get them free, but then it will cost you money to hear them." "It will never cost me any money," said Bob, with conviction. "I wouldn't give a plugged nickel for a book full of them." "Neither will anybody else," said Joe. "If you have any idea of ever making a living that way, Herb, you'd better forget it. You'd starve to death, sure." "Well, it's a cinch I won't have to starve to death right now, anyway, so quit your croaking," retorted the much abused Herb. "Whoever told you fellows that you were judges of humor, anyway?" "A person doesn't have to be an expert to judge your jokes," came back Joe. "If he knows anything at all, he can tell that they're rotten." "All your friends seem to have very decided views on the question, Herbert," laughed Frank Brandon. "The popular vote seems to be heavily against you." "Oh, their opinions aren't worth worrying about," said Herb, complacently. "As long as I know my jokes are good, I don't care what they say." "That's the spirit," encouraged Brandon. "Remember, all great men have had to fight an uphill battle against criticism." "That's true," said Herb, with a melancholy sigh. "And what's more, if you can judge by the amount of criticism, I must be going to be extra great. Still, that's likely enough, I suppose." "Don't stop him, fellows," said Bob, with a mischievous grin. "Let him rave on. If he enjoys kidding himself that way, why should we wake him up?" "Aw, you fellows who think you're so smart are probably kidding yourselves," said Herb. "Nobody could really be as smart as you Indians think you are and live to tell the story." "That's one of the failings of human nature to rate ourselves too highly," interposed Dr. Dale, with a smile. "But now, how would you all like to go in and hear the rest of the concert? We've missed only the first part, and there's still quite a good deal to come." They all acceded to this proposal with alacrity, and found that, as the doctor had said, they had not missed much of the programme. The wireless apparatus worked to perfection, and they could hear everything perfectly. "The static isn't nearly as bad to-night as it was a month or two ago," said Dr. Dale. "At times last summer it interfered a good deal with my receiving." "Yes, it's always a good deal worse in summer than in winter," remarked Frank Brandon. "I always advise beginners not to start at wireless in mid-summer, as they sometimes get such poor results with their small sets that they get discouraged and give up the game altogether. It's better to wait until fall, and then by the next summer they've had experience enough to know how to reduce the bad effects of static." "It used to get pretty bad sometimes at Ocean Point last summer," observed Bob. "Once or twice our concerts were almost spoiled by it, while at other times we'd hardly notice it." "With that set, you ought to be able to get any broadcasting station in the Eastern States," said Brandon. "And if you have luck, and conditions happened to be just right, you might even get something from the other side, although of course that isn't very likely." "Oh, we've been talking about that, but we don't really expect to," said Joe. "We might be able to get the wireless telegraph signals from the other side, though, don't you think?" "That's likely enough," answered Brandon. "The best time to get them is late at night, when the broadcasting and amateur stations are not sending. I've often sat and listened with Brandon Harvey to the big station at Nauen, Germany, or to the Eiffel Tower in Paris." "Jimminy!" exclaimed Herb. "We'll have to bone down at our language courses at high school, fellows. I suppose that they send in whatever language the people speak where the sending station is located, don't they?" "As a rule they do, but not always," replied Frank Brandon. "It depends to a great extent where the message is being sent to. If it is being sent to this country, it is often in English, while if it were being sent to France, it would be in French, naturally." "Yes, I suppose it would have to be that way," said Bob, thoughtfully, "although I never thought about that side of it before. It won't make much difference what language they're sending in, though, so long as we know that we can get their signals. It will be a lot of fun, though, trying to make out what they're saying." "It will be a good alibi, anyway," said Jimmy. "If we can't understand the dots and dashes, we can just say that they're sending in German or French or Italian. Nobody could expect us to know all those languages." "If they did expect it, they'd be badly disappointed," said Herb. "I've been wrestling with French for three terms now, but I don't seem to know much more about it than when I started." "I can believe that, all right," said Jimmy. "Only day before yesterday you flunked your recitation in French, and the professor told you that you were forgetting your French faster than you were learning it. He was right, wasn't he?" "I'll say he was," said Herb, shamelessly. "At the rate I'm learning it, it would be strange if I weren't forgetting it faster. I'll have to do a lot of cramming to pass the mid-term exams." "You fellows had better quit your talking and listen to the music," suggested Joe. "Here's a swell quartette that has just been announced. Can the chatter and do a little listening." "That's easy," said Herb. "I'd rather hear a good quartette than almost anything else I know of." For another hour or so they listened to the concert, which turned out to be an unusually fine one. Then, when the last selection had been given, Mr. Brandon rose to go. "I've had a wonderful afternoon and evening," he said, "and I've enjoyed every minute of it. I hope the next time you give a party like this, Doctor Dale, that I'll be invited again." "You surely will," replied the doctor, heartily. "The latch string always hangs outside the door for you, you know." The radio boys also expressed their appreciation of the entertainment they had received, and Doctor Dale invited them cordially to come again. "I'd like to be at the station to-morrow to meet Larry," he said. "But as to-morrow is Sunday, I shall be unable to get there. But don't forget to give him my congratulations on his success, will you?" This the boys promised to do, and then they and Mr. Brandon said good-night and started homeward. "My, but this has been a full day," said Bob. "We've certainly been moving some since this morning. And think of all we've accomplished. I'll bet Larry will get well so fast now that he'll surprise the whole lot of us." "I'll bet Tim will be glad to hear about it,'" remarked Joe. "I wonder if he's got an engagement yet." "He hadn't, up to a few days ago," said Bob. "Larry told me that in one of the letters he had received from him he said he had several prospects, but nothing definite. You know, of course, that Chasson wouldn't keep Tim after Larry's accident broke up the act." "Yes, Larry told me about that," replied Joe. "I guess poor Tim has had pretty hard sledding lately, too. But he has his health, and I guess he'll land an engagement soon, if he hasn't already got one." "He's too clever a dancer to be out of work very long, it seems to me," said Herb. "If I were manager of a show, you can bet I'd snap him up pretty quick." "That's right," agreed Jimmy. "He's certainly a crackerjack dancer, but there is one thing about him that I never thought much of." "What's that?" asked Bob, curiously. "Why, haven't you ever noticed what a light appetite he has?" asked Jimmy. "I'd be ashamed of myself if I couldn't eat more than he does. He's always through a meal before I've fairly got started." Frank Brandon laughed at this and interrupted. "Guess I'll have to say good-night, fellows," he said. "Here's my hotel, and I, for one, feel tired enough to sleep. I'll try to be at the station to-morrow to meet Larry, but I won't promise. I'm expecting instructions from the government that may change my plans at any time." "You don't expect to have to leave Clintonia soon, do you?" asked Bob, anxiously. "No, I hardly think so. Not right away, anyway," answered the wireless man. "I may have to be away a few days, but I'll be back again soon." "We're all hoping that you'll be stationed here permanently," said Bob, as all paused in front of Mr. Brandon's hotel. "We'd hate to see you transferred away from here." "That's mighty nice to hear," said the radio expert, and his tone left no doubt that he was in earnest. "You may believe that I'll do my best to stay here, anyway. This is the center of a pretty large territory, and the wireless business is growing so fast that it's possible I'll be able to. We'll make the most of the time I'm here, anyway." "You bet we will," said Bob. "We'll be looking for you at the station to-morrow, anyway, but if you're not there we'll tell Larry why you couldn't come." The boys said good-night to Frank Brandon, and started on the short walk to Main Street and their homes. CHAPTER XVIII NEW HOPE "I told Larry to come on the twelve-fifty train to-morrow," said Bob. "We can get together when we come out of church, and we'll have plenty of time then to walk to the station. We don't want to take any chances of Larry's getting in without any one to meet him." "Not on your life," agreed Joe, emphatically. "But how are we going to get him to the hotel, Bob? I know we can't get dad's car. He's too awfully busy just now. It isn't much of a walk from the station, but it's too far for Larry just yet, isn't it?" "Let's all chip in and hire a taxi," proposed Bob. "It won't cost us much, and I guess we can all squeeze into one easily enough." "I'm game," said Joe. "I can hang onto the spare tire if there isn't room enough inside." "I guess that won't be necessary," laughed Bob. "Of course, Jimmy takes up a little extra room, but then Herb brings it back to average again." It was agreed that they should hire a taxicab according to Bob's suggestion, and then the boys said "so-long" and dispersed to their homes. The following day they met at the church door, as they had agreed, and walked rapidly down to the station. It was a glorious day, with just a hint of frost in the air, and all the boys were in high spirits. They found it hard to remember that it was Sunday and that they must act accordingly, but managed to get to the station with a due amount of decorum. The train was a few minutes late, but the time did not seem long to them. They hired a taxicab in advance, and by the time that transaction was finished they could see the train in the distance. As it drew into the station, they eagerly scanned the alighting passengers. Larry was one of the last to alight, and the boys were almost beginning to fear that he was not on the train when they spied him on the last car. With one accord they rushed in that direction, and in a few seconds Larry found himself on the platform, with the boys bombarding him with questions and congratulations. "How did it seem to be performing for the benefit of about half a million people at one time?" inquired Joe. "Not very different from performing for only a few," laughed Larry. "I wasn't worrying much about the half million. What was bothering me was to please just one--Mr. Allard." "I suppose that's about the size of it," agreed Bob, as they started toward the taxicab. "I guess he was satisfied, though, wasn't he?" "Well, he didn't say much directly, but he took me on permanently, and is going to pay me almost twice as much as Chasson did; so I guess that's a pretty good indication that he likes the act," replied Larry. "But where are you Indians taking me to, anyway?" "Don't ask questions, but just come along," said Bob. "We've got a taxi waiting here, and Mr. Brandon has hired a room for you at his hotel, so you see you've got nothing to worry about." "It certainly looks that way," agreed Larry. "Well, I'm in the hands of my friends. I'll be good and do as I'm told." "You'd better, until you get your strength back," threatened Bob. "We can lick you easily now, you know, so you'd better speak nicely to us." "Well, when people treat me to a ride in a taxicab, I speak nicely to them anyway, so that they'll be encouraged to do it again," said Larry. "So, you see, I have a double incentive." "You'd better make the most of this ride," laughed Joe. "When you begin to get your pay checks, we'll expect you to hire the taxicabs, shan't we, fellows?" "You bet we will," said Jimmy. "This is the life! Taxicabs must have been made especially for me, I like to ride in them so." "It's too bad Tim can't be with us now," said Bob. "Have you heard how he is getting along lately, Larry?" "Oh, that reminds me!" exclaimed Larry. "You can bet your bottom dollar I've heard from him lately. Not an hour after I had gone through my act last night I got a telegram from him congratulating me. It seems that he was listening in at a radio set somewhere, and I guess it must have pretty nearly knocked him off his pins when he heard the announcer give my name. As soon as I finished he must have rushed out and sent the telegram. Here it is, and you can read it for yourselves." He fished through his pockets, and at last produced the crumpled slip of yellow paper. Bob took it up and read aloud. "Fine work, old man. Keep it up. Have got engagement, too. More by letter. Tim." "Good for him!" exclaimed Bob. "We were speaking about him last night, and wondering how he was making out. I'm mighty glad to hear that he has landed an engagement." "So am I," said Larry. "Although, now that I've got one, he would have had half of what I made until he did drop into something. It's always been share and share alike with us." By this time the taxicab had reached the hotel, and the boys helped Larry out. He was regaining his strength rapidly now, and his friends were delighted to note the improvement in him. "You won't need that crutch much longer, Larry, I can see that," Bob told him. "I hope not," responded Larry. "And won't it be a happy day when I can throw it into the discard? Believe me, it's a terrible thing to have to rely on one." "I hope we never have to make the experiment," said Bob, soberly. "But you're mighty lucky to be getting along the way you are. When they first took you to the hospital, the doctor didn't think you'd pull through. He didn't say so in so many words, but we could see that he thought it." "I don't doubt it," said Larry, as they slowly mounted the steps leading to the lobby. "You can believe that I felt as though the roof had caved in on top of me." At that moment a tall boy passed them rapidly, going out of the door into the street. It was Buck Looker, and he had passed the others without recognizing them. "Did you ever hear any more from Buck?" questioned Bob of Larry. "No," and Larry's face clouded. "But I suppose he still thinks me guilty of that robbery." "Forget Buck!" cried Joe. "He isn't worth worrying about." "Perhaps not. Just the same, I wish that matter was cleared up. I hate to have a cloud over my name," answered Larry seriously. CHAPTER XIX LISTENING IN Larry registered at the desk, and then they were whisked up in the elevator to the lad's room. Bob had inquired at the desk for Frank Brandon, but was informed that he had left early that morning and had left word for the boys that he would not be back in Clintonia before the following evening. Larry's room was only two removed from that of the radio expert, and was fairly large and comfortably furnished. The young actor was delighted when he saw it. "Say, this is great!" he exclaimed. "This has got the hospital beat a thousand ways. If the eats are only as good as the room, I'll be in clover." "You won't find anything the matter with the eats," said Bob. "This hotel has a reputation for setting a good table, and I don't think you'll have any fault to find with it." "When I get my first pay check, we'll try it out together," promised Larry. "You'll all be my guests, for a change, and we'll make the chef step around a bit." "Hooray!" crowed Jimmy, "that's the kind of talk I like to hear, Larry. It certainly sounds like sweet music to me." "It is rather pleasant," added Bob. "All you've got to do is set a date, Larry, and we'll be there with nickel-plated appetites and cast iron digestions." "You fellows haven't said much about your radio lately. How is it coming along? I'm afraid you've spent so much time on me lately, that you've gotten behind on that new set you were telling me about." "No, that's coming along all right," said Bob. "We haven't set any hard and fast date to have it finished, you know. We've all had to bone down pretty hard at school this term, too." "Could you hear me plainly last evening?" inquired Larry. "If you'd been sitting in the room with us, it couldn't have sounded any different," Joe assured him. "Doctor Dale has a good set for shorter ranges, but except under very favorable conditions he can't get the distant stations, like Detroit, for instance." "Do you expect to be able to hear Detroit?" "We'll be able to hear any station in the Eastern States," Bob informed him. "This is going to be a set that is a set, Larry." "Well, so much the better," said Larry. "If you can hear as far as that, you won't have to live in fear of not hearing my performance only a few miles away. I know it would break your hearts if you couldn't." "It makes me sad just to think of such a terrible thing," sighed Herb. "Wait till I get my handkerchief, fellows, and mop up the flowing tears." "Aw, chase yourself," grinned Larry. "The only thing that would bother you radio bugs if you didn't hear me, would be the fear that your blamed old set wasn't working just right. You'd be down under the table fussing around with a few thousand wires, but you'd never stop to think that maybe I'd been fired by the manager, or run over by a trolley car." "Oh, we'd never have to worry about you," said Joe. "You've heard the old saying that 'only the good die young.'" "I certainly have," admitted Larry. "And that probably explains why that stage scenery didn't kill me outright. It's been rather a mystery to me why it didn't, but you've put me wise to the real reason." "It will do for want of a better one, anyway,'" laughed Bob. "If we can once get you interested in radio, Larry, you'll be as stuck on it as any of us," said Joe. "It's interesting right from the beginning, but when you dig into it a bit, it gets more fascinating all the time." "Oh, I'm interested in radio all right, don't male any mistake about that," returned Larry, with a twinkle in his eye. "It's my meal ticket now, you know." "Yes, but I mean in the way of recreation," persisted Joe. "Yes, I suppose it must be mighty interesting, for a fact," admitted Larry, more seriously. "Just wait until I get strong again, and maybe I'll take it up in earnest. I've seen enough of it to realize that there are wonderful possibilities in it, anyway." "Well, we'll be glad to initiate you any time you say the word," offered Bob. "We don't know enough about it to keep us awake at night, but we can probably explain a few things to you." "Oh, I'll ask questions until you wish you'd never mentioned radio to me," laughed Larry. "If I do take it up, I'll have to start at the beginning." "That's where most everybody starts," announced Jimmy. "You won't be a bit worse off than we were, will he, fellows?" "I should say not," answered Bob. "When we started, we hardly knew the difference between an antenna and a ground wire. We had our own troubles at first; and we're still having them, as far as that goes. There always seems to be something new coming up that you have to work out." "If I keep on getting good pay from the broadcasting station, I'll be able to buy a set, anyway," said Larry. "What's the use of working so hard over one, when you can buy them all made up? All you have to do is hook them up to a small antenna, and you get your music right off the bat." But the radio boys all scouted this idea. "Of course you can buy one all made up," said Bob. "But there's not half the fun in operating that kind of set as there is in one that you've made yourself. And besides, you can get a lot better results when you've made the thing yourself and understand just what's in it and how it works. If you don't get good results some evening, you know where to look for the trouble." "It's like driving an automobile when you don't understand the mechanism," added Joe. "As long as everything goes all right you go sailing along, but let something go wrong, and you're up a tree right away. You haven't any idea of where to look for the trouble." "All right, all right," laughed Larry. "Don't shoot, and I'll promise never to mention it again." "See that you keep it, then," said Bob, laughing. "But anybody who buys a made-up set isn't entitled to be called a real radio fan; at least, we don't think so." "I suppose you're right," agreed Larry. "It must be half the fun of the game when you do the job yourself. But remember that everybody can't build elaborate sets the way you fellows do, even if they want to. They haven't got the knack." "I suppose that's so," conceded Bob. "But almost anybody that can drive a nail straight can do it. It's mostly a matter of hard work and a little study." "Well, when I get a little stronger, maybe I'll take a fling at it," said Larry. "But just at present, the only thing I can think about is getting something to eat. I had a pretty early breakfast, and now I'm rather anxious to try some of that good cooking you tell me this hotel is famous for." "My!" exclaimed Bob, jumping to his feet. "I'm glad you mentioned dinner, Larry. I'll have to take it on the run if I'm going to get home in time for dinner. They're always sore if I'm late, too." "And to think that I overlooked such an important thing as Sunday dinner!" ejaculated Jimmy, searching frantically around for his cap. "I only hope I can last out until I get home," he went on. "If I do, it will only be on account of my strong will power. I'm afraid poor old Herb hasn't much chance to pull through." "Huh!" snorted Herb. "If you had to depend on will power to get you home, you'd never get a block away from here. You'll get home all right, but the thing that gets you there will be the thought of how good the chicken and apple pie are going to taste." "Well, nobody could have a stronger motive than that, after all," said Jimmy. "Confound this elevator, anyway. I guess it's never going to come up. You fellows can wait if you want to, but I'm going to walk down. I know I'll get there, then." "Doughnuts does have a good idea once in a while," said Joe. "I'll do the same thing." The others were nothing loath, so they shook hands with Larry and clattered down the long flights of stairs at high speed, for, as Bob said, it would never do to let the elevator beat them down after all. CHAPTER XX THE WONDERFUL SCIENCE The boys arrived at the street floor breathless but triumphant, and started in the direction of home at so brisk a pace that poor Jimmy had some difficulty in keeping up. He was in as much of a hurry as any of the others, however, and by great effort managed to keep up with his companions. "After this, we all should be eligible to go in a walking race," laughed Bob, as they paused a minute at his door. "Can you all get around this evening and listen to some radio? I've got to get out some lessons this afternoon, and I guess you have, too." "I should say so!" exclaimed Joe. "You know how much chance we had to do them yesterday, and I've got a good three hours' work ahead of me. I guess I can get around this evening all right, though." Herb and Jimmy both said that they would be on hand, and then they went on, separating as each reached his own home. Shortly after supper that evening they all met at the Layton home according to appointment. As it was Sunday, they did not do any work on their new set, but the whole Layton family gathered around the loud speaker that evening, as a prominent preacher was to deliver a sermon by radio, and they were all eager to hear it. Before the sermon there was an organ recital, and they heard this perfectly, after the boys had succeeded in tuning out one or two amateurs who sometimes made them trouble. Of course, everybody enjoyed the recital, and also the sermon, which was delivered in very effective style. "This is certainly being up to date," commented Mr. Layton, when the sermon was over. "When I was the same age as you boys, I was expected to be in church every Sunday evening without fail. But now it does not seem quite so necessary, when it is possible to have religious services right in the home, as we have had them this evening. I think the Layton family is indebted to you boys, as the chances are neither Mrs. Layton nor I would ever have become interested in it if Bob and you hadn't introduced us to it." "I'll bet you never thought much of it when we first started to build an amateur set, now did you, Dad?" accused Bob. "As I don't see any way out of it, I suppose I'll have to confess that you're right," laughed Mr. Layton. "But you must remember that you boys were among the first to take up wireless in Clintonia, and at that time nobody in town had thought anything about it. I guess we didn't realize its possibilities." "It was a surprise to me when that first set that you boys made really worked," admitted Mrs. Layton. "I remember that it sounded very nice right from the start, too." "Yes, that was a good old set," said Bob. "It didn't satisfy us for long, though. It was all right under favorable conditions, but you couldn't do much tuning with it." "Not only that, but the range was pretty limited, too," chimed in Joe. "When I think of all the planning we had to do before we got it made, I feel like laughing." "It was no laughing matter then, though," said Herb. "If it hadn't worked, we'd have been a pretty disappointed crowd." "I'll never forget the sensation when that first music came in over our set," said Bob. "It was certainly a grand and glorious feeling. I only hope our new set comes up to scratch as well as that one did." "I guess there isn't much doubt about the new set," observed Joe, confidently. "It will just _have_ to work." "Look out," laughed Mr. Layton. "Don't forget the old saying, that 'pride goeth before a fall.'" "Yes, we may have an awful bump coming to us, I suppose," said Joe. "But we'd be awfully sore if it didn't work, after all the labor we've put on it." "We'll make it work, all right," predicted Bob. "Maybe not on the very first trial, but we'll get it going in the end, I'll bet a cookie." "I surely hope it will be all right, because I know how bad you would all feel if it didn't," said Mrs. Layton. "I never knew boys would work so hard at anything, just for the sake of the fun they expect to get out of it." "They may get a good deal more than just fun out of it," remarked Mr. Layton, seriously. "It looks to me as though radiophony were only just starting at present, and it seems certain that it offers a big field for any one who has the desire and ability to take up that line of work. It may turn out to be a fine thing for them later on." "I suppose that's very true," said his wife, thoughtfully. "Although that side of it never occurred to me before." After a little further conversation, Joe, Herb, and Jimmy said good-night and took their leave, thinking, as they walked home, of what Mr. Layton had said. They had all entertained the same idea before, but his words had encouraged them. Why not? Surely there must be many openings in so large a field for bright and ambitious young fellows, and in their dreams that night the boys had visions of fame and fortune attained through the medium of wireless telephony. They were discussing this the next afternoon on their way home from school, when their speculations were brought to an abrupt end by the sight of Larry hobbling down the street toward them as fast as he could travel with his crutch, his face flushed and his free arm wildly waving. CHAPTER XXI THE VANISHING CROOKS The radio boys broke into a run, and soon reached their excited friend. "What's the matter, Larry?" asked Bob. "You look as though you had just seen a ghost. What's the trouble?" "I wish you'd gotten here a few minutes sooner!" panted Larry. "Confound this blamed crutch of mine. How can anybody hope to make any speed with one of these things?" "He can't," said Bob. "But hurry up and tell us what's eating you." "I just saw the fellows that were in that motor boat when it ran us down!" exclaimed Larry. "You did?" cried the radio boys in chorus. "Did you try to stop them?" "Of course I did," replied Larry. "But they evidently recognized me, for they gave me one look, and then started off at top speed. I tried to run after them, but I'm too blamed crippled yet to do much speeding, and of course they got away clean. If you fellows had come along three minutes sooner, we could have caught them, I think." "They can't have got very far yet, then," said Bob. "Which way did they go? It may not be too late to catch them even now." "They went around that corner," answered Larry, pointing with his crutch. "I got there as soon as I could, but by the time I arrived there was no sign of them." "I'm afraid we haven't much chance to catch them now, but we might as well try, anyway," said Bob. "Judging from the direction they took, it looks as though they might have headed for the station. Suppose we each take a different street, and work down to the station, keeping our eyes open as we go along? Even if we don't succeed in catching them, we may find somebody who knows them and can give us some information." "Sounds good to me," agreed Joe, briefly, and the others also assented to Bob's plan. "I'll go straight down High Street, then," said Bob, decisively. "You take Jerome Avenue, Joe. You take Van Ness Avenue, Herb. And you take Southern Boulevard, Jimmy. They all run together near the station, and we can meet there. So-long, Larry. Whether we learn anything or not, we'll come back to the hotel and let you know all about it." "All right, then, I'll be waiting for you," said Larry, with a wave of his hand. "I only wish that I could help you, but I'm a lame horse yet. Good luck, anyway." The radio boys set out at top speed, each one hunting high and low along the street assigned to him, and asking questions of every one he met. But the strangers seemed to have vanished into thin air, for, hunt as they would, the boys could find no trace of them. At the railroad station they learned that a train had left for New York only a few minutes before, but the ticket agent said he did not remember selling tickets to any men such as the boys described. "That doesn't prove anything, though," he said, as he noted their disappointment. "I sell so many tickets here during the day that I don't notice who buys them much. The only time I'd be likely to notice anything would be if the parties were excited or nervous, and I don't remember anything like that this afternoon." The boys thanked him, and left the station. "That's too bad," said Bob. "I would have given a lot to have caught those fellows for Larry. People that are mean and selfish enough to upset a boat and then not even try to rescue the people in it, ought to get what's coming to them." "I'd certainly have enjoyed taking a swift punch or two at them myself," agreed Joe. "Well, if we didn't catch them, it wasn't for lack of trying," said Herb. "People looked at me as though they thought I was crazy when I asked them questions about the fellows we were after. I didn't even know enough about them to describe them." "My idea was that they'd probably keep on running even after they'd gotten away from Larry, and in that case somebody would have been sure to notice them," explained Bob. "It looks as though they were wise enough to slow down as soon as they thought they were safely away, though." "No use crying over spilt milk," said Jimmy philosophically. "Let's go back to Larry and report 'nothing doing.'" "I suppose that's about all we can do," agreed Bob. "We'll keep a sharp lookout on the way back, and we may find something, after all." But this hope was doomed to disappointment. There was no sign of the rascals they sought, and there was no help for it but to tell Larry of their lack of success. The latter was naturally greatly disappointed, but he put a cheerful face on the matter. "When they once got away from me, I gave up hope of catching them, for this time, anyway," he said. "Clintonia is getting to be such a big town that it's easy for people to lose themselves in it. The only thing to do is hope for better luck next time. I'm mighty grateful to you fellows for trying so hard to find them, too." "Don't thank us for doing nothing," said Bob, a little ruefully. "If we had caught those rascals, it would have been different." "Oh, it was just hard luck that you fellows didn't come along a few minutes sooner. We'd have got them then, sure. But I've got a hunch that we'll run across them again." "I'll bet you traveled faster with that stick of yours than you ever thought you could, didn't you?" asked Herb, with a grin. "I guess I did," laughed Larry. "I must have looked funny hopping along there. But it won't be long now before I'll be traveling around on my own two feet again." "You're certainly looking better every time I see you," remarked Bob. "I guess you'll be plenty strong enough to start in at steady work at the broadcasting station next week, won't you?" "Oh, sure," responded Larry. "I could do it this week, as far as that goes." "Don't get too ambitious," said Joe. "A week's rest here will do you all kinds of good." "Do you find the grub as good as we told you it would be?" asked Jimmy. "It's simply heavenly," said Larry, solemnly. "Say!" exclaimed Bob, suddenly, "have any of you Indians happened to think what next Monday is?" "Sure," said Herb, flippantly. "It's the day after next Sunday. Ask me something harder next time." "That's right," said Bob, giving him a withering glance. "As our friend Herbert says, it is the day after Sunday, but it also happens to be Columbus Day, and therefore a holiday. How did we ever come to forget that?" "Hooray!" they shouted, and with one accord linked arms and executed an impromptu dance. "That being so, let's go with Larry when he reports for work," proposed Joe. "Who's game to do it?" "I'm with you!" exclaimed Bob. "We can see that Larry gets there all right, and maybe Mr. Allard will show us over the station. We were in such a hurry when we were there before that we couldn't see very much." "I'd like to go first rate," said Herb. "But I'm so far behind on my French that I'm afraid I'll have to stay at home and make up for lost time. I'm 'way back in math., too." "I won't be able to go either, I'm afraid," said Jimmy, dolefully. "Dad has just taken a big contract, and I've promised to help him all my spare time next week. I'd forgotten about Monday being a holiday, though," he added, truthfully. "Well, if you can't, that's all there is to it," said Bob. "Maybe you'll change your minds before then, though." "I don't want you to come just on my account, fellows," said Larry. "Of course, I'd love to have you come, but I don't want you to think you've got to." "It isn't that at all," Bob assured him. "In the first place, it will be fun to take the trip, and then, if we get a chance to look around the station, we may get some good tips for our new set." "Well," said Larry, doubtfully, "since you put it that way, it will be great to have you come with me. I guess I've got influence enough around there already to show you the inside works." "All right, then, we'll consider that settled," said Bob. "Joe and I will call for you early in the afternoon. By that time Mr. Brandon will be back, and maybe he'll come, too." The radio inspector returned the next day, but he could not promise to accompany the little party, as he had to attend a meeting at headquarters the following Monday. CHAPTER XXII BROADCASTING MARVELS The remainder of the week sped quickly by, and almost before the boys realized it the holiday had arrived. Larry spent the morning at Bob's house, where he watched Bob and Joe working on the new set, and kept his promise to ask questions. "It doesn't do me much good, though," he said, fairly puzzled at last. "That's about the most mysterious looking box of tricks that I've ever had the hard luck to look at. What are all those dials and knobs for? Do you keep your money in there, or what?" "You must think they are combination locks," laughed Bob. "This knob here controls a condenser, and this one a transformer." "But how do you know what to do with them?" asked the bewildered Larry. "How do you know which one to turn and which one to leave alone?" "You don't," laughed Bob. "You may have an idea about where they should be placed, but it's different every evening." "Yes, and during the evening, too," added Joe. "You have to keep adjusting all the time to get the best results." "Well, if it depended on me, I'm afraid I'd only get the worst results," said Larry. "It all looks terribly complicated to me." "You don't have to worry much about it, anyway," said Joe. "All you have to do is whistle into the transmitter, and it's up to us to hear you. We have to do all the work." "It's a lucky thing for me that it is that way," said Larry. "If I had to learn all about radio before I could give my act, I'd probably starve to death first." "Radio is just like everything else," said Bob. "It looks very mysterious and difficult to an outsider, but when you get into it a little way and understand the rudiments, it begins to look a lot simpler. It wouldn't take you very long to catch on to it. Especially a smart lad like you," he added, with a grin. "Cut out the comedy," said Larry. "Any time I get a compliment from you or Joe, I know there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere." "The trouble with you is, you're too modest," said Joe. "When we do say something good about you, you think we're only kidding." "I don't think--I know," replied Larry, grinning. "I suppose, though, that radio must be pretty easy, or you fellows wouldn't know so much about it." "That remark has all the appearance of a dirty dig," said Bob. "But I suppose we can't land on him until he gets entirely well, can we, Joe?" "No, let him live a little while longer," replied his friend. "We'll get even for that knock, though, Larry, my boy." "I won't lie awake at night worrying about it, anyway," replied Larry. "But I'm not going to interfere with your work any more. Just go ahead as though I weren't here, and I'll try to learn something by watching what you do." Bob and Joe worked steadily then until Mrs. Layton called to them to come up to lunch. "Toot! toot!" went Larry, imitating faithfully a factory whistle blowing for twelve o'clock. "Time to knock off, you laborers. If you work any longer I won't let you belong to the union any more." "No danger of that," said Bob. "I've been feeling hungry ever since ten o'clock, so I'm not going to lose any time now. Come on up and we'll see what mother's got for us." They found a lunch waiting for them that would have made a dyspeptic hungry, and they attacked it in a workmanlike manner that drew an approving comment from Mrs. Layton. "I declare it's some satisfaction to get a meal for you boys," she declared. "You certainly eat as though you enjoyed it." "There's no camouflage about that, Mother; we _do_ enjoy it," answered Bob. "We wouldn't be human if we didn't enjoy it, that's fairly certain," said Larry. "The meals at the hotel are pretty good, but they're not in the same class with this lunch at all." "I know they have a reputation for setting a good table there," said Mrs. Layton. "I hope you fare as well in the city. You'll board there, I suppose, won't you?" "Yes, I expect to," said Larry. "Mr. Allard, the manager, recommended me to a good place near the station, and I guess they won't let me starve to death there." "Let us hope not," smiled Mrs. Layton. "Any time you are in Clintonia, we'd be very glad to have you visit us, you know. I suppose Bob has told you that, though." "I certainly did!" exclaimed her son. "I have a hunch that after eating a while in boarding houses a good home-cooked meal must be a welcome change." "I'll say it is," assented Larry. "But there are one or two good restaurants fairly near the station, anyway, so in case I get tired of the food at the boarding house, I can switch to a restaurant for a while." "That sounds like jumping from the frying pan into the fire," grinned Joe. "I suppose it is something along that line," assented Larry, with a rueful laugh. "But what is a poor fellow to do?" "I suppose it can't be helped," assented Bob, as he finished his dessert. "But now, fellows, there doesn't seem to be anything more to eat, so I guess we'd better be moving if we're going to catch the two o'clock train." "That shows you how much gratitude I can expect from him," said Mrs. Layton, laughingly appealing to the others. "'Eat and run' seems to be his motto these days." "Well, there's always so much to be done, it would keep anybody on the jump," protested Bob. "I don't seem to be fading away under the strain, though, do I?" "No. And while your appetite continues the way it is, I guess I shan't need to worry about you," replied Mrs. Layton. Larry and Joe said good-by to their hostess, and then all three boys started for the station. They had good fortune in catching the trolley that ran to the railroad station, and just had time to get their tickets before the train pulled in. It was more than a two-hours' run to the point where they must change cars, but it seemed to them that they had hardly gotten settled in their seats before it was time to get off. Larry told them many comical stories of his experiences while traveling from town to town and funny incidents that had occurred at rehearsals and during performances. "You get pretty tired of traveling all the time, though," Larry remarked at length. "This engagement you fellows and Mr. Brandon have gotten for me is certainly a relief. I'd be mighty glad to have it, even if I hadn't been hurt. I've had enough of jumping around all over the country to suit me for a while." "I'll bet it does get mighty tiresome," assented Bob, as the boys rose to get out. "But here we are, and as the train doesn't go any further, I suppose we might as well get off." "That isn't a bad idea," said Joe. "I suppose there's no use trying to persuade the conductor to go on a little further." "I don't imagine you'd better even think of it," said Larry. "I've got a hunch that he'd only get peeved if you did." "Well, then, I'll take your advice," grinned Joe. As they emerged from the terminal into the street at their final destination, Joe asked: "But how are we going to find this place, Larry? Do you know the way?" "No, but I know how to find somebody who does," replied Larry, and he signaled to a taxicab driver. "Nix, Larry, nix!" expostulated Bob. "We can get there on the trolleys. You'd better save your cash." "You fellows blew me to a taxi ride when I landed in Clintonia the last time, so I'm going to do the same for you," said Larry, obstinately. "No use in kicking now, so just forget it." During this brief dialogue the taxi had approached them, and now stopped as the driver swung open the door. "Hop in, fellows," directed Larry, and then he gave the driver directions to drive to the big broadcasting station. With a jerk and a rattle they were off, and there ensued an exciting ten minutes as the taxicab scooted through the traffic, shooting across streets, and missing collisions by the narrowest of margins a dozen times in the course of the brief journey. The boys held on tight to prevent being thrown from their seats, and they all heaved sighs of relief when at length the vehicle came to a sudden halt in front of the big broadcasting station. "Whew!" exclaimed Bob. "I don't know what this will cost you, Larry, but whatever it is, you get your money's worth of excitement, anyway. Taking a ride in one of those things is like going out to commit suicide." "That's nothin'," grinned the driver, who had overheard this remark. "We was takin' it easy all de way. If you guys had been in a hurry, now, I might have shown you a little speed." "Well, you did pretty well, as it was," said Bob. "You were in a hurry, if we weren't." Larry paid the man, and he was off at top speed and had disappeared around a corner before Larry had fairly put his change away. "That must be a great life, driving a taxi all day in a big city," said Larry. "But let's go in, and see if we can find the boss. I hope he'll act tip nice and show you fellows the whole works. I'll go around with you and try to look wise, but I won't have any idea of what it's all about." Entering the office, they had little difficulty in seeing the manager, and he readily consented to have the boys look over the station, turning them over to an assistant, as he was too busy to take them around himself. Mr. Reed, the assistant, did not appear particularly pleased with his assignment at first, but when he found that the boys were well grounded in radio, his attitude changed. "I get tired of showing people around who don't know a thing about radio, and do nothing but ask fool questions," he explained. "But when I get some one who knows the subject and can understand what I'm showing him, that's a different matter." He showed them over the sending station from the studio to the roof. The boys listened with the keenest interest as he described to them the methods by which the broadcasting was carried on, which every night delighted hundreds of thousands of people within range of the station. In a little room close to the roof they saw the sending apparatus which really did the work. There was a series of five vacuum bulbs through which the current passed, receiving a vastly greater amplification from each, until from the final one it climbed into the antenna and was flung into space. To the casual onlooker they would have seemed like simply so many ordinary electric bulbs arranged in a row and glowing with, perhaps, unusual brilliance. But the boys knew that they were vastly more than this. Where the electric light tube would have contained only the filament, these tubes at which they were looking contained also a plate and a grid--the latter being that magical invention which had worked a complete revolution in the science of radio and had made broadcasting possible. From the heated filament electrons were shot off in a stream toward the plate, and by the wonder-working intervention of the grid were amplified immeasurably in power and then passed on to the other tube, which in turn passed it on to a third, and so on until the sound that had started as the ordinary tone of a human voice had been magnified many thousands of times. This little series of tubes was able to make the crawl of a fly sound like the tread of an elephant and there is no doubt that a time will come when through this agency the drop of a pin in New York City can be heard in San Francisco. The boys were so fascinated with the possibilities contained in the apparatus that it was only with reluctance that they left the roof and went to the studio. This they found to be a long, rather narrow room, wholly without windows, and with the floors covered with the heaviest of rugs. The reason for this, as their guide explained, was to shut out all possible sound except that which it was desired to transmit over the radio. "What is the idea of having no windows?" asked Bob. "So there shall be no vibration from the window panes," replied Mr. Reed. "I tell you, boys, this broadcasting hasn't been a matter of days, but is the development of months of the hardest kind of work and experiment. We have had to test, reject, and sift all possible suggestions in order to reach perfection. I don't mean by that to say that we have reached it yet, but we're on the way. New problems are coming up all the time, and we are kept busy trying to solve them. "It seems a simple thing," he went on, "to talk or sing into that microphone," pointing to a little disk-like instrument about the height of a man's head. "But even there the least miscalculation may wholly spoil the effect of the speech or the music. Now, in a theater, the actor is at least twenty feet or so from the nearest of his audience and the sounds that he makes in drawing in his breath are not perceptible. If he stayed too close to the microphone, however, that drawing in of breath, or some other little peculiarity of his delivery, would be so plainly heard that it would interfere with the effect of his performance. So, with certain instruments. A flute, for instance, has no mechanical stops, so a flute player can stand comparatively near the microphone. The player of a cornet, however, must stand some distance back or else the clicking of the stops of his instrument will interfere with his music. These are only a few of the difficulties that we meet and have to guard against. There are dozens of others that require just as much vigilance to guard against in order to get a perfect performance. It's a pleasure to explain these things to you, boys, for you catch on quickly." "We're a long way from being experts," said Bob, "but we've done quite a good deal of radio work and built several sets of our own, so we can at least ask intelligent questions." "Well, fire away, and I'll try to answer them," replied Mr. Reed. "You may be able to stick me, though." He said this as a joke, but before they had completed a tour of the building the boys had asked him some posers that he was at a loss to answer. "I almost think you fellows should be taking me around," he said at last. "Blamed if I don't think you know as much as I do about it." CHAPTER XXIII THE FIRST VENTURE "They're regular sharks, those boys," said Larry, who was thoroughly enjoying Mr. Reed's discomfiture. "I think they'd be able to stick Mr. Edison, I'll be blest if I don't." "Nonsense," laughed Bob. "We're only asking about things we don't understand ourselves. You know the did saying, 'a fool can ask more questions than a wise man can answer.'" "Hey, there, speak for yourself!" exclaimed Joe. "You may be a fool, but don't class me under that heading." "I was only speaking figuratively, as the profs say," laughed Bob. "I don't want you to take me too literally, of course." "All I've got to say is, that you're both pretty well up on radio," said Mr. Reed. "Are you a shark too, Larry?" "Not I," answered Larry. "I've been trying to learn something about it since I met Bob and Joe here, but I can't say that I've made much progress. Besides, you can't do much learning in a hospital," he added, with a rueful laugh. "It isn't what you would call an ideal place," admitted Mr. Reed. "But now that you're working here, you ought to pick it up pretty soon." "I'm going to make a real try at it now," promised Larry. "It's a shame to be so ignorant about the business that's giving you a living." "Yes, but I don't see where our knowledge of radio is bringing us much cash," said Joe. "How about that hundred and fifty dollars we won between us in prizes?" Bob reminded him. "That was quite a little cash, wasn't it?" "That's a long time ago, though," returned Joe. "I wish I knew some way to pick up a little extra change now. Christmas is not very far off, and heaven knows how I'm going to buy anybody any present." "Can you do anything in the way of a song or a recitation?" asked Mr. Reed. "I know Mr. Allard needs one or two short bits to fill out the programme to-night, but I don't suppose you could do anything of that sort, could you?" "I'm afraid not," replied Joe. "I know two or three recitations that I learned for the elocution class, but I'm afraid that's about the full extent of my entertaining power. If I tried to sing, folks would think that some accident had happened to their apparatus." "A good recitation or two might be just what the boss is looking for," returned Mr. Reed. "It Couldn't do any harm to ask him about it, anyway. What is your specialty, Layton?" "There's no such thing," laughed Bob. "As an entertainer, I'd be a terrible frost." "I'm not so sure of that," said the other. "Suppose we look up Mr. Allard, anyway, and see what he has to say." "I'll try anything once," said Bob. "I suppose it can't do any harm to try, anyway." "If you can get away with it, why not pick up a few dollars?" asked Larry. "It isn't like facing a big audience, you know. The audience is there, all right, but you don't see them, and it's easier to forget about them than in a theater." "I wouldn't try it for a farm in a theater," said Joe. "But I guess I could work up nerve enough to talk into that sending apparatus. It won't be as bad as reciting in the auditorium at high school, at any rate." "Don't bank too much on it," warned their conductor. "Mr. Allard may not think well of the plan, or he may have found some one else by this time." "I'll be satisfied either way," said Bob, philosophically. "I'd like to make a little money, all right; but, on the other hand, I'm beginning to get stage fright already. If Mr. Allard turns us down it will be a relief, after all." But the manager, when interviewed, seemed relieved at the prospect of having their services. "I think I can use you both very nicely this evening," he said. "Of course, I'll have to hear your stuff before I can tell. Suppose you let us hear one or two of your recitations, Mr. Atwood." "All right," grinned Joe. "You'll probably give me the hook before I get through, though; but you can't say I didn't warn you." "We'll take a chance," smiled the manager. "Do your worst." Thus exhorted, Joe recited a humorous piece he had learned recently for delivery in the elocution class, and he recited it very well, too. When he had finished Mr. Allard called for more, and Joe obliged with the only other selection in his repertoire. "That's first rate," said the manager, when he had finished. "I think that ought to go all right. I think I'll give you ten or fifteen minutes on the bill. Now, how about you, Mr. Layton? What's your specialty?" "I don't own such a thing," grinned Bob. "I know one piece that I learned for elocution, the same as Joe, but you wouldn't want two of the same variety on the bill." "No, that's true," agreed Mr. Allard. "Let's see, now," and he thought a minute or two. "How would this do?" he exclaimed at length. "We've got all sorts of books here with jokes and riddles in them. Suppose we pick out a few good conundrums, and you can learn them and the answers between now and seven o'clock. Then, right at the beginning of the bedtime stuff, you give the riddles, and we'll announce that the answers aren't to be given until the very end of the performance. That will keep them guessing all through it, and keep them interested. Then at the end you can give the answers. How does that strike you?" "I'm game," replied Bob, grinning. "I guess if I bone down to it I can learn a few by then." "You won't even have to memorize them, if you don't want to," said Mr. Allard. "You can read them right off if you'd rather. Your audience won't be able to see what you're doing, you know." "That would probably be better," agreed Bob. "Then there won't be any chance of my forgetting the answers. Think of how tough it would be on the kids if I gave them a riddle and then forgot the answer. That would be a terrible trick to play on them." "Well, you can suit yourself about that," returned Mr. Allard. "It's almost six o'clock now, so perhaps you'd better go out and get a bite to eat right now. I'll pick out a few good conundrums, and you'd better get back as soon as you can and study them up a bit." "All right," said Bob. "We'll make it snappy." He and Joe and Larry went out and had a quick meal at the nearest restaurant. "You fellows have broken into the entertaining game with your usual speed," remarked Larry. "Who would have imagined this morning that you would be on the broadcasting programme this evening?" "We wouldn't have been, one time out of a hundred," answered Bob. "If one of the regulars hadn't been sick, we never would have gotten a look in." "'It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good,'" quoted Joe. "We'll make our car fare out of this, and something over. It's lucky I happened to speak as I did to Mr. Reed." "But say!" exclaimed Bob, struck by a sudden thought. "Won't Jimmy and Herb be knocked silly when they hear our voices this evening? They won't be able to believe their ears." "You said it," declared Joe. "But the worst of it is, we won't be there to see their faces at the time. I'd give the evening's profits to see them then." "It will be a scream, all right," agreed Larry, with a chuckle. "You two will have it all over all the other radio fans in Clintonia when you get back. They'll be green with envy." "I guess it will make them sit up and take notice," assented Bob. "Just make out Lon Beardsley won't be sore. This will be a terrible blow to him." "It's a good thing it isn't the other way around," said Joe. "If it were Lon who was on the broadcasting programme, we'd never hear the last of it. You'd be hearing about it ten years from now." The three friends finished their meal and returned to the broadcasting station, where Mr. Allard was waiting for Bob with the riddles that he had selected. "Here are a few funny ones," he said. "You can practice up on the delivery of them, and Larry will give you some pointers about the best way to say them. I don't imagine you'll have any trouble when the time comes." CHAPTER XXIV WINNING OUT "It seems to me he takes a lot for granted," said Bob, after the manager had left the room. "How does he know that both of us won't get rattled right in the middle of the thing and ball up the whole programme?" "I guess it's because he's heard something about both you and Joe from Mr. Brandon, and he's pretty sure you'll come up to the scratch," said Larry. "That's the way I figure it out, anyway." "Well, we'll do the best we can to live up to our reputation, if that's the case," said Bob. "I'll read these things aloud the way I think they should go, Larry, and you correct me if I'm wrong." "Go ahead," replied Larry. "You've been telling me so much about radio that I ought to be willing to tell you something about how to put a joke over." Bob settled down to his task in earnest then, and for an hour rehearsed the jokes with Larry, who drilled him in the most effective way to tell them to advantage. "There!" exclaimed Larry, at the end of that time. "I think you ought to get by all right now, Bob. You're doing fine." "Well, if they don't like me, I can't help it," said Bob. "At any rate, they won't be able to throw any dead cats at me. That's one big advantage that radio entertainers have." "That's true enough," laughed Larry, "although I hadn't thought about it before. Maybe I'd have had a poor pussy cat wrapped about my neck before this if I'd been doing my act in a regular theater." "Nonsense!" replied Bob. "Nobody threw anything at you when you were acting in a regular theater, did he?" "No," admitted Larry. "That is, nothing except big bunches of American Beauty roses," he hastily added. "Oh, of course, that's understood," gibed Joe. "I suppose you had to hire a big truck every evening to cart them away." "Yes, every evening," grinned Larry. "And the applause----good gracious! The people for blocks around used to complain about it." "You don't get much applause now," laughed Bob. "How does it seem to perform for the benefit of a telephone transmitter instead of an audience?" "It never bothered me much," replied Larry. "It seems to be pretty hard for some of the actors, though, especially the comedians. When they spring a funny joke they're used to hearing their audience laugh, and when they don't hear anything, they get peeved sometimes. They can't get used to the blank silence after their best efforts." "I can easily understand how it would have that effect," said Bob. "It might save them a lot of trouble, though. Take the case of a black-face artist. He wouldn't need to put on any make-up at all, if he didn't want to." "But if they don't, they don't feel natural, and it's apt to spoil their act. An actor is pretty temperamental, you know." "Well, I'm beginning to feel that way myself," sighed Joe. "I wish it were time for us to spring our stuff on an unsuspecting public and get it over with. It must be pretty near time for the first number now, isn't it?" "It sure is," answered Larry. "We'd better go on up to the transmitting room. The worst crime a public performer can commit is to be late, you know." "And to think that I'm the poor fellow that's supposed to open the show!" exclaimed Bob. "My, I'll be as glad to get it over with as you will, Joe." "That's saying a mouthful," replied his friend. "Oh, what a relief it will be!" "If the audience can stand it, you two ought to be able to," said Larry, cruelly. "Quit your worrying." "I guess if the audience can stand you, it won't mind us," returned Bob, giving Larry a friendly poke in the ribs. "Guess that will hold you a little while, old timer." Before Larry could think of a suitable retort they had entered the transmitting room, and he had to postpone his reply for the time being. Mr. Allard was already there. "How do you feel?" he asked them, in greeting. "Probably a trifle nervous?" "Just a little bit," Bob admitted. "I think we'll make out all right, though." "Good!" replied the manager. "Don't get rattled, and you'll go over all right. From what Mr. Brandon has told me, you don't either of you rattle easily, though." "We're ready any time you are, sir," was Bob's comment. "All right, then," said Mr. Allard, crisply. "It's time now, Morton," addressing the announcer. "You can go ahead and announce Layton's act." This the announcer did, and then, tense with excitement but thoroughly master of himself, Bob stepped to the transmitter and propounded the first of his conundrums. With book in hand, Larry stood at his elbow to prompt him in case he forgot anything, but his friendly services were not needed. Bob went through the whole list without a mistake and with no fumbling, speaking clearly and distinctly into the transmitter. Although he could not see his audience, he nevertheless sensed the listening thousands, and felt the lift and exhilaration that come to the successful entertainer. His part in the programme was short, a scant ten minutes, but he enjoyed every minute of it. When he had asked the last riddle, he stepped back, and mopped big drops of perspiration from his face. "Whew!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad that's over, although it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." "You've got to go all through it again when you give the answers," Larry reminded him, cruelly. "I guess I can stand it," said Bob. "Did I do it all right?" "Sure you did," they all assured him. "It was good work." In a little while the time came for Joe to give his recitations, and he, too, did good work. It was easy to see that the manager was pleased with both of them, and, indeed, he did not hesitate to say so. "If you fellows didn't live so far away, I'd be glad to make you a regular part of the programme," he told them later. "You both have a good delivery, and I can see that Brandon was right when he said you didn't lack nerve. It's too bad you don't live in this town." "I don't think we could do much along that line just now, anyway," said Bob, much pleased. "Between high school and building radio sets we don't have much time left over. We appreciate your giving us a chance on the bill to-night, though. We never dreamed of such a thing when we left the house this morning." "I can't wait to get back to Clintonia to see what Herb and Jimmy have to say," remarked Joe. "I'll bet their eyes are sticking out now like a crab's." The boys then said good-night to Mr. Allard and Larry, and took a somewhat hurried departure, as they had very little time left in which to make the last train for Clintonia. Meantime, Herb and Jimmy had been treated to the surprise of their lives. Shortly after supper Jimmy had whistled the familiar call in front of Herb's house, and when his friend had emerged had invited him to come to his house that evening. "You know I've got my set rigged up now," he said, "the one that I entered for the Ferberton prize. It didn't win the prize, but it's a pretty good set all the same. There's a good radio programme on for this evening, and I suppose you want to hear it as much as I do." "Yes, I certainly do," answered Herb. "Besides, if we hear Larry, we'll know that the three of them arrived at the other end on time. It will be almost as good as having them right here with us." "Get your coat on, then, and we'll be going," said Jimmy. "It's not so far from seven o'clock, now." Herb ran back into the house, and, emerging shortly afterward, joined his friend, and they set out for Jimmy's house. "Conditions ought to be ideal for radio to-night," Herb remarked, as they walked along. "It's clear as a bell. There won't be enough static to-night to bother any one." "So much the better," said Jimmy. "That set of mine doesn't get very good results when the static is bad. I thought it was the real thing once, but compared with the sets we've made since, I can see where it might be a lot better." "Well, there aren't many things that are so good that they can't be improved," remarked Herb. "I suppose even if I set out to make a perfect set, I might fall a little short of the mark somewhere." "That seems almost impossible, but of course you ought to know," replied Jimmy, with a grin, "I only wish we had our set finished that we're working on now," said Herb. "Then we ought to get real results." "It won't take us so very long now," returned Jimmy. "Most of the hard work is done, and all we have to do now is to assemble it, I guess we can get busy at that pretty soon now." "The sooner the better," answered Herb. "It seems to me that we've been at it an awfully long while." "Not so long when you consider all the work that there is to a set like that," said Jimmy. "But here we are, and I'm beginning to feel hungry again, although it isn't very long since I had supper. I think I'll hunt around in the kitchen and see if I can't find a few doughnuts. I'm pretty sure that there are some left in the crock." "I don't see how there can be, if you knew they were there," laughed Herb. "But I hope you do find some. Your mother's doughnuts have a reputation, you know." "We'll go up to my room first, and then I'll have a look," said Jimmy. Herb had hardly gotten his coat off before Jimmy returned with several golden brown doughnuts. "Here we are," he said, triumphantly. "Now to enjoy the radio!" Herb had brought a pair of ear phones with him, and he and Jimmy connected their phones in series, so that they could both listen at the same time. They had hardly got settled when they heard the resonant tones of the announcer. "Mr. Robert Layton will ask a number of conundrums, the answers to come later." So spoke the announcer. Herb and Jimmy gazed at each other open-mouthed. "Wh-what did he say?" gasped Jimmy, at length. "Did you hear it the same as I did, Herb?" "He said Robert Layton, all right!" exclaimed Herb. "What do you suppose----" But here he was interrupted by the well known voice of their friend. "Give me a pencil!" exclaimed Herb. "I'll guess those before the answers come, or die trying. We can't let Bob get away with this altogether." "I should say not!" agreed Jimmy, as Herb started scribbling furiously. "I can't believe yet that it's really Bob talking. How do you suppose he ever got on the programme?" Herb shook his head without stopping his writing, and at last had all the riddles written down. "Never mind the rest of the programme," he said. "We'll try to solve these things first." But while they were still struggling to find answers to the knotty riddles, they nearly went over backward in their chairs as another familiar name sounded in their ears. The announcer was giving Joe's name this time, and all Herb and Jimmy could do was to sit and look at each other and mutter inarticulately as Joe recited his selections. When they were over, both boys took off their head phones and gazed solemnly at each other. "Can you beat it?" asked Herb at length, in a bewildered way. "Nope," responded Jimmy. "I'm not even going to try. Just think of those two Indians actually getting on a broadcasting programme! I'm knocked so hard that I'll have to eat another doughnut to set me straight again. Finish 'em up, Herb." And Herb "finished 'em up" while they both ruminated on the incomprehensible vagaries of fate. "We've got to go over and see 'em do it," declared Jimmy. "Right you are," returned his chum. "I won't believe it till I see it with my own eyes." They saw it with their own eyes a week later when the radio boys gave a second performance which was even more successful than the first, since they had got over the nervousness that affected them at the start. The manager renewed his importunities for them to take a regular engagement, assuring them that they had made a decided hit. The best the boys could see their way clear to agree to, however, was to appear one night in each week, and this programme was carried out for the several weeks ensuing, with ever-increasing ability on the part of Bob and Joe and marked satisfaction to the manager of the sending station. CHAPTER XXV SOLVING THE MYSTERY One night after another performance all of the radio boys were waiting in the railroad station when Larry, who had stepped to the news stand to buy a paper, came hurrying back to where they were sitting. "I've spotted the men who ran me down in the motor boat!" he gasped. "They're talking together over in that corner!" "Are you sure?" asked Bob, as he looked in the direction indicated. "Dead sure," declared Larry. "The look I had at them as the motor boat was making for me is engraved on my memory so that I couldn't forget it if I wanted to. Now's the chance to get those fellows jugged. You know the police were looking for them after they ran us down and there's a warrant out for their arrest. The police didn't have their names, so the warrant read for John Doe and Richard Roe. We've got to act quickly, as they may get up to take a train at any minute." "Keep your eye on them while I get a station policeman," admonished Bob, as he hurried off. He found the officer, who listened attentively as he told his story. Then he walked with Bob toward the men who were still engaged in earnest conversation. As the officer's eyes fell upon them, he gave a start. "That's Red Pete and Bud McCaffrey, two of the oldest crooks in the business," he said. "They're wanted for more things than that affair of yours. It will be a feather in my cap if I gather them in." He tightened his grip on the club as he came close to the two men. They looked up at him, and a startled look came into their eyes as they saw his uniform. "Hello, Pete. Hello, McCaffrey," he greeted them. "I guess you'd better come right along to headquarters. The Chief would like to have a talk with you." With a snarl the men leaped to their feet and sought to get past the officer. He was too quick for one of them, whom he grabbed by the collar and reduced to submission by two cracks with his club. The other eluded him, however, and promised to make good his escape. But quick as a flash Bob thrust out his foot and tripped him, at the same time falling upon him. The fall knocked the breath out of the fugitive, and Bob had no trouble in holding him until Joe and the other boys came up, together with another policeman, who had been attracted by the fracas. A patrol wagon was summoned and the prisoners were conveyed to the nearest police station, where they and the bags they had carried were searched in the presence of the boys, who had missed their train in order to be present and give what information they could about the motor boat affair. The bags were found to contain, among jewelry and other things that were apparently the proceeds of robberies, a number of pawntickets calling for stickpins, watches and other articles which the police lieutenant at the desk announced would be looked up by some of his men. The prisoners were locked up to await a court examination, and the boys, after having given their names and addresses in case they were wanted later on as witnesses, left for home in a state of high excitement over the stirring events of the night. Bob kept in touch with the case, and a few days later came rushing up to his friends in high glee. "What do you think, fellows?" he announced. "After the extra performance I gave to-day at the broadcasting station, I dropped in at the police station and had a look at some of the loot the police had gathered up on the strength of the pawntickets. And among them what do you think I saw?" "The Crown Jewels of England," guessed Herb. Bob withered him with a look. "The stickpins and watches of Buck Looker and Carl Lutz!" announced Bob impressively. "Their initials were on the watches." "Glory be!" cried Larry, who was present. "That clears me in that matter. I know none of you fellows believed Buck's dirty fling, but all the same I've felt uncomfortable ever since." "Now you'll get a nice letter of apology from Mr. Buck Looker--I don't think," remarked Joe. The information was conveyed to Buck and Lutz, and they identified and recovered their property. But as Joe had predicted, not a word of apology for their unfounded charges was received from either one of the pair. Not long afterward the arrested men were convicted and sentenced to long prison terms. It developed that they were old offenders who made a specialty of robbery at summer resorts. Larry grew steadily better and there was every prospect that his lameness would in time wholly disappear. But he was doing so well at the broadcasting station that he determined to give up any further idea of vaudeville and devote himself to radio, going to a technical school in the meantime to perfect his education. Tim steadily advanced in his chosen vocation, and the boys heard from him frequently. No one rejoiced more than they when they learned that he was at last in the big-time circuit. During all these events the boys had been busy at developing the receiving set, and at last it was finished to their satisfaction. In the course of their work they gathered a large amount of familiarity with radio which proved of immense value later on, as will be seen in the next volume of this series, entitled: "The Radio Boys at Mountain Pass; Or, The Midnight Call For Assistance." The special set that represented the advance they had made in radio reception included the regenerative principle. This feature added immensely to the sensitiveness of the set. It consisted of a coil, variously known as the tickler, the intensity coil, and the regeneration coil. It involved three controls, the wave-length tuning, the regenerative coil, and the filament rheostat. The result of the combination was not only that the radio frequency waves could be carried over into the plate circuit, but that they could be amplified there by the energy derived from the local battery in the plate circuit without change of frequency or wave form, and that they could be fed into the grid circuit, where they increased the potential variations on the grid so that the operation constantly repeated itself. This "feed-back" regeneration enormously increased the loudness of the receiving signals, and its value to the boys was demonstrated one night when the air was unusually free of static and they clearly heard the signals from Nauen, Germany, and the Eiffel Tower, Paris. They looked at each other incredulously at first, and then as they heard the signals again too certainly to admit of doubt, they jumped to their feet, clapped each other on the shoulder, and fairly went wild with delight. "The first boys in this old town to pick up a message from Europe!" cried Joe. "What next?" "Asia perhaps," suggested Jimmy. "Then Australia," ventured Herb. "Or Mars," predicted Bob. "Who knows?" he added, as he saw the smile of doubt on his comrades' faces. "Marconi thought he might, and he's no dreamer. What is impossible to radio?" THE END This Isn't All Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book? Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author? On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book. Don't throw away the Wrapper Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog. The Radio Boys Series (Trademark Registered) By ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of the "Railroad Series," Etc. Individual Colored Wrappers. Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself. A new series for boys giving full details of radio work, both in sending and receiving--telling how small and large amateur sets can be made and operated, and how some boys got a lot of fun and adventure out of what they did. Each volume from first to last is so thoroughly fascinating, so strictly up-to-date and accurate, we feel sure all lads will peruse them with great delight. Each volume has a Foreword by Jack Binns, the well-known radio expert. THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FOREST RANGERS THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE ICEBERG PATROL THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FLOOD FIGHTERS THE RADIO BOYS ON SIGNAL ISLAND THE RADIO BOYS IN GOLD VALLEY Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York THE TOM SWIFT SERIES BY VICTOR APPLETON Uniform Style of Binding. Individual Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading. TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL TOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANK TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCH TOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVE TOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT OIL GUSHER TOM SWIFT AND HIS CHEST OF SECRETS TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRLINE EXPRESS Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York THE DON STURDY SERIES by VICTOR APPLETON Individual Colored Wrappers and Text Illustrations by WALTER S. ROGERS Every Volume Complete in Itself. In company with his uncles, one a mighty hunter and the other a noted scientist, Don Sturdy travels far and wide, gaining much useful knowledge and meeting many thrilling adventures. DON STURDY ON THE DESERT OF MYSTERY; An engrossing tale of the Sahara Desert, of encounters with wild animals and crafty Arabs. DON STURDY WITH THE BIG SNAKE HUNTERS; Don's uncle, the hunter, took an order for some of the biggest snakes to be found in South America--to be delivered alive! DON STURDY IN THE TOMBS OF GOLD; A fascinating tale of exploration and adventure in the Valley of Kings in Egypt. DON STURDY ACROSS THE NORTH POLE; A great polar blizzard nearly wrecks the airship of the explorers. DON STURDY IN THE LAND OF VOLCANOES; An absorbing tale of adventures among the volcanoes of Alaska. DON STURDY IN THE PORT OF LOST SHIPS; This story is just full of exciting and fearful experiences on the sea. DON STURDY AMONG THE GORILLAS; A thrilling story of adventure in darkest Africa. Don is carried over a mighty waterfall into the heart of gorilla land. GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK 
25858	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustration. See 25858-h.htm or 25858-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/5/8/5/25858/25858-h/25858-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/5/8/5/25858/25858-h.zip) The Radio Boys Series (Trademark Registered) THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE Or Solving a Wireless Mystery by ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of The Radio Boys' First Wireless The Radio Boys at Mountain Pass Ralph of The Roundhouse Ralph on the Army Train, Etc. With Foreword by Jack Binns Illustrated [Illustration: THE MAN WAS EVIDENTLY RECEIVING A MESSAGE. The Radio Boys Trailing a Voice. Page 153] New York Grosset & Dunlap Publishers Made in the United States of America * * * * * * BOOKS FOR BOYS BY ALLEN CHAPMAN 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. THE RADIO BOYS SERIES (Trademark Registered) THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS Or Winning the Ferberton Prize THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT Or The Message that Saved the Ship THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION Or Making Good in the Wireless Room THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS Or The Midnight Call for Assistance THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE Or Solving a Wireless Mystery THE RAILROAD SERIES RALPH OF THE ROUNDHOUSE Or Bound to Become a Railroad Man RALPH IN THE SWITCH TOWER Or Clearing the Track RALPH ON THE ENGINE Or The Young Fireman of the Limited Mail RALPH ON THE OVERLAND EXPRESS Or The Trials and Triumphs of a Young Engineer RALPH THE TRAIN DESPATCHER Or The Mystery of the Pay Car RALPH ON THE ARMY TRAIN Or The Young Railroader's Most Daring Exploit GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, New York Copyright, 1922, By GROSSET & DUNLAP The Radio Boys Trailing a Voice * * * * * * FOREWORD BY JACK BINNS Within a comparatively short time after this volume is published the human voice will be thrown across the Atlantic Ocean under conditions that will lead immediately to the establishment of permanent telephone communication with Europe by means of radio. Under the circumstances therefore the various uses of radio which are so aptly outlined in it will give the reader an idea of the tremendous strides that have been made in the art of communicating without wires during the past few months. Of these one of the most important, which by the way is dealt with to a large extent in the present volume, is that of running down crooks. It must not be forgotten that criminals, and those criminally intent are not slow to utilize the latest developments of the genius of man, and radio is useful to them also. However, the forces of law and order inevitably prevail, and radio therefore is going to be increasingly useful in our general police work. Another important use, as outlined in this volume, is in the detection of forest fires, and in fact generally protecting forest areas in conjunction with aircraft. With these two means hundreds of thousands of acres can now be patrolled in a single day more efficiently than a few acres were previously covered. Radio is an ideal boy's hobby, but it is not limited to youth. Nevertheless it offers a wonderful scope for the unquenchable enthusiasm that always accompanies the application of youthful endeavor, and it is a fact that the majority of the wonderful inventions and improvements that have been made in radio have been produced by young men. Since this book was written there has been produced in this country the most powerful vacuum tube in the world. In size it is small, but in output it is capable of producing 100 kilowatts of electrical power. Three such tubes will cast the human voice across the Atlantic Ocean under any conditions, and transmit across the same vast space the world's grandest music. Ten of these tubes joined in parallel at any of the giant transmitting wireless telegraph stations would send telegraph code messages practically around the world. [Illustration: author's signature "Jack Binns"] CONTENTS I. Splintering Glass 9 II. In a Dilemma 20 III. The Stuttering Voice 31 IV. A Puzzling Mystery 43 V. Marvels of Wireless 51 VI. The Forest Ranger 61 VII. Radio and the Fire Fiend 70 VIII. Near Disaster 77 IX. A Happy Inspiration 83 X. The Escaped Convict 91 XI. Down the Trap Door 99 XII. Groping in Darkness 106 XIII. Cunning Scoundrels 112 XIV. A Daring Holdup 119 XV. Off to the Woods 127 XVI. Put to the Test 136 XVII. The Bully Gets a Ducking 143 XVIII. A Startling Discovery 151 XIX. The Robbers' Code 160 XX. On the Trail 168 XXI. The Glimpse Through the Window 177 XXII. A Nefarious Plot 185 XXIII. Preparing an Ambush 193 XXIV. Lying in Wait 202 XXV. An Exciting Struggle 208 CHAPTER I SPLINTERING GLASS "You fellows want to be sure to come round to my house to-night and listen in on the radio concert," said Bob Layton to a group of his chums, as they were walking along the main street of Clintonia one day in the early spring. "I'll be there with bells on," replied Joe Atwood, as he kicked a piece of ice from his path. "Trust me not to overlook anything when it comes to radio. I'm getting to be more and more of a fan with every day that passes. Mother insists that I talk of it in my sleep, but I guess she's only fooling." "Count on yours truly too," chimed in Herb Fennington. "I got stirred up about radio a little later than the rest of you fellows, but now I'm making up for lost time. Slow but sure is my motto." "Slow is right," chaffed Jimmy Plummer. "But what on earth are you sure of?" "I'm sure," replied Herb, as he deftly slipped a bit of ice down Jimmy's back, "that in a minute you'll be dancing about like a howling dervish." His prophecy was correct, for Jimmy both howled and danced as he tried vainly to extricate the icy fragment that was sliding down his spine. His contortions were so ludicrous that the boys broke into roars of laughter. "Great joke, isn't it?" snorted Jimmy, as he bent nearly double. "If you had a heart you'd lend a hand and get this out." "Let's stand him on his head," suggested Joe. "That's the only thing I can think of. Then it'll slide out." Hands were outstretched in ready compliance, but Jimmy concluded that the remedy was worse than the presence of the ice and managed to keep out of reach. "Never mind, Jimmy," said Bob consolingly. "It'll melt pretty soon, anyhow." "Yes, and it'll be a good thing for Jimmy to grin and bear it," added Herb brightly. "It's things like that that develop one's character." "'It's easy enough to be pleasant, when life moves along like a song, but the man that's worth while, is the man who can smile when everything's going dead wrong,'" quoted Joe. Jimmy, not at all comforted by these noble maxims, glared at his tormentors, and at last Bob came to his relief, and, putting his hand inside his collar, reached down his back and brought up the piece of ice, now greatly reduced in size. "Let's have it," demanded Jimmy, as Bob was about to throw it away. "What do you want it for?" asked Bob. "I should think you'd seen enough of it." "On the same principle that a man likes to look at his aching tooth after the dentist has pulled it out," grinned Joe. "Don't give it to him!" exclaimed Herb, edging away out of reach, justly fearing that he might feel the vengeance of the outraged Jimmy. "You gave it to him first, so it's his," decided Bob, with the wisdom of a Solomon, as he handed it over to the victim. Jimmy took it and started for Herb, but just then Mr. Preston, the principal of the high school, came along and Jimmy felt compelled to defer his revenge. "How are you, boys?" said Mr. Preston, with a smile. "You seem to be having a good time." "Jimmy is," returned Herb, and Jimmy covertly shook his fist at him. "We're making the most of the snow and ice while it lasts." "Well, I don't think it will last much longer," surmised Mr. Preston, as he walked along with them. "As a matter of fact, winter is 'lingering in the lap of spring' a good deal longer than usual this year." "I suppose you had a pleasant time in Washington?" remarked Joe inquiringly, referring to a trip from which the principal had returned only a few days before. "I did, indeed," was the reply. "To my mind it's the most interesting city in the country. I've been there a number of times, and yet I always leave there with regret. There's the Capitol, the noblest building on this continent and to my mind the finest in the world. Then there's the Congressional Library, only second to it in beauty, and the Washington Monument soaring into the air to a height of five hundred and fifty-five feet, and the superb Lincoln Memorial, and a host of other things scarcely less wonderful. "But the pleasantest recollection I have of the trip," he went on, "was the speech I heard the President make just before I came away. It was simply magnificent." "It sure was," replied Bob enthusiastically. "Every word of it was worth remembering. He certainly knows how to put things." "I suppose you read it in the newspaper the next day," said Mr. Preston, glancing at him. "Better than that," responded Bob, with a smile. "We all heard it over the radio while he was making it." "Indeed!" replied the principal. "Then you boys heard it even before I did." "What do you mean?" asked Joe, in some bewilderment. "I understood that you were in the crowd that listened to him." "So I was," Mr. Preston answered, in evident enjoyment of their mystification. "I sat right before him while he was speaking, not more than a hundred feet away, saw the motion of his lips as the words fell from them and noted the changing expression of his features. And yet I say again that you boys heard him before I did." "I don't quite see," said Herb, in great perplexity. "You were only a hundred feet away and we were hundreds of miles away." "And if you had been thousands of miles away, what I said would still be true," affirmed Mr. Preston. "No doubt there were farmers out on the Western plains who heard him before I did. "You see it's like this," the schoolmaster went on to explain. "Sound travels through the air to a distance of a little over a hundred feet in the tenth part of a second. But in that same tenth of a second that it took the President's voice to reach me in the open air radio could have carried it eighteen thousand six hundred miles." "Whew!" exclaimed Jimmy. "Eighteen thousand six hundred miles! Not feet, fellows, but miles!" "That's right," said Bob thoughtfully. "Though I never thought of it in just that way before. But it's a fact that radio travels at the rate of one hundred and eighty-six thousand miles a second." "Equal to about seven and a half times around the earth," observed the principal, smiling. "In other words, the people who were actually sitting in the presence of the President were the very last to hear what he said. "Put it in still another way. Suppose the President were speaking through a megaphone in addition to the radio and by the use of the megaphone the voice was carried to people in the audience a third of a mile away. By the time those persons heard it, the man in the moon could have heard it too--that is," he added, with a laugh, "supposing there really were a man in the moon and that he had a radio receiving set." "It surely sounds like fairyland," murmured Joe. "Radio is the fairyland of science," replied Mr. Preston, with enthusiasm, "in the sense that it is full of wonder and romance. But there the similarity ceases. Fairyland is a creation of the fancy or the imagination. Radio is based upon the solid rock of scientific truth. Its principles are as certain as those of mathematics. Its problems can be demonstrated as exactly as that two and two make four. But it's full of what seem to be miracles until they are shown to be facts. And there's scarcely a day that passes without a new one of these 'miracles' coming to light." He had reached his corner by this time, and with a pleasant wave of his hand he left them. "He sure is a thirty-third degree radio fan," mused Joe, as they watched his retreating figure. "Just as most all bright men are becoming," declared Bob. "The time is coming when a man who doesn't know about radio or isn't interested in it will be looked on as a man without intelligence." "Look here!" exclaimed Jimmy suddenly. "What's become of my piece of ice?" He opened his hand, which was red and wet and dripping. "That's one on you, Jimmy, old boy," chuckled Joe. "It melted away while you were listening to the prof." "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said Herb complacently. "Jimmy meant to put that down my back." "Oh, there are plenty of other pieces," said Jimmy, as he picked one up and started for Herb. Herb started to run, but slipped and fell on the icy sidewalk. "You know what the Good Book says," chaffed Joe. "The wicked stand on slippery places." "Yes, I see they do," replied Herb, as quick as a flash, looking up at him. "But I can't." The laugh was on Joe, and Herb felt so good over the retort that he did not mind the fall, though it had jarred him considerably. He scrambled to his feet and brushed off his clothes, while Jimmy, feeling that his comrade had been punished enough, magnanimously threw away the piece of ice that was to have been the instrument of his vengeance. "The reason why I wanted you fellows to be sure to be on hand to-night," resumed Bob, as they walked along, "was that I saw in the program of the Newark station in the newspaper this morning that Larry Bartlett was down for an entirely new stunt. You know what a hit he made with his imitations of birds." "He sure did," agreed Joe. "To my mind he had it all over the birds themselves. I never got tired listening to him." "He certainly was a dabster at it," chimed in Jimmy. "Now he's going in to imitate animals," explained Bob. "I understand that he's been haunting the Zoo for weeks in every minute of his spare time studying the bears and lions and tigers and elephants and snakes, and getting their roars and growls and trumpeting and hisses down to a fine point. I bet he'll be a riot when he gives them to us over the radio." "He sure will," assented Herb. "He's got the natural gift in the first place, and then he practices and practices until he's got everything down to perfection." "He's a natural entertainer," affirmed Bob. "I tell you, fellows, we never did a better day's work than when we got Larry that job at the sending station. Not only was it a good thing for Larry himself when he was down and out, but think of the pleasure he's been able to give to hundreds of thousands of people. I'll bet there's no feature on the program that is waited for more eagerly than his." By this time the boys had reached the business portion of the town and the short spring day was drawing to a close. Already lights were beginning to twinkle in the stores that lined both sides of the street. "Getting near supper time," remarked Bob. "Guess we'd better be getting along home. Don't forget to come--Gee whiz!" The ejaculation was wrung from him by a snowball that hit him squarely in the breast, staggering him for a moment. Bang! and another snowball found a target in Joe. It struck his shoulder and spattered all over his face and neck. "That felt as though it came from a gun!" he exclaimed. "It's the hardest slam I ever got." "Who did it?" demanded Bob, peering about him in the gathering darkness. Halfway up the block they saw a group of dark figures darting into an alleyway. "It's Buck Looker and his crowd!" cried Jimmy. "I saw them when they ran under that arc light." "Just like that crowd to take us unawares," said Bob. "But if they're looking for a tussle we can accommodate them. Get busy, fellows, and let them have something in return for these two sockdolagers." They hastily gathered up several snowballs apiece, which were easily made because the snow was soft and packed readily, and ran toward the alleyway just in time to see Buck and his crowd emerging from their hiding place. There was a spirited battle for a few minutes, each side making and receiving some smashing hits. Buck's gang had the advantage in that they had a large number of missiles already prepared, and even in the excitement of the fight the radio boys noticed how unusually hard they were. "Must have been soaking them in water until they froze," grunted Jimmy, as one of them caught him close to the neck and made him wince. As soon as their extra ammunition was exhausted and the contending forces in this respect were placed more on a footing of equality, Buck and his cronies began to give ground before the better aim and greater determination of Bob and his comrades. "Give it to them, fellows!" shouted Bob, as the retreat of their opponents was rapidly becoming a rout. At the moment he called out, the progress of the fight had brought the radio boys directly in front of the windows of one of the largest drygoods stores in the town. In the light that came from the windows Bob saw a snowball coming directly for his head. He dodged, and---- Crash! There was the sound of splintering glass, and the snowy missile whizzed through the plate glass window! CHAPTER II IN A DILEMMA There was a moment of stupor and paralysis as the meaning of the crash dawned upon the radio boys. Buck and his crowd had vanished and were footing it up the fast-darkening street at the top of their speed. The first impulse of the radio boys was to follow their example. They knew that none of them was responsible for the disaster, and they were of no mind to be sacrificed on behalf of the gang that had attacked them. And they knew that in affairs of that kind the ones on the ground were apt to suffer the more severely. They actually started to run away, but had got only a few feet from the scene of the smash when Bob, who had been thinking quickly, called a halt. "None of this stuff for us, fellows," he declared. "We've got to face the music. I'm not going to have a hunted feeling, even if we succeeded in getting away. We know we didn't do it and we'll tell the plain truth. If that doesn't serve, why so much the worse for us. But at any rate we won't be despising ourselves as cowards." As usual, his comrades accorded him the leadership and fell in with his plan, although it was not without many misgivings that they awaited the coming of the angry proprietor of the place, who had already started in pursuit of them, accompanied by many others who had been attracted by the crash and whose numbers were being rapidly augmented. "Here are the fellows that smashed my window!" cried Mr. Larsen, the proprietor of the drygoods store, rushing up to them and shaking his fist in their faces. "Where are the police?" he shouted, looking around him. "I'll have them arrested for malicious damage." And while he faced them, gesticulating wildly, his face purple with anger and excitement, it may be well for the benefit of those who have not read the preceding volumes of this series to tell briefly who the radio boys are and what had been their adventures before the time this story opens. The acknowledged leader of the boys was Bob Layton, son of a prosperous chemist of Clintonia, in which town Bob had been born and brought up. Mr. Layton was a respected citizen of the town and foremost in its civic activities. Clintonia was a thriving little city of about ten thousand population, situated on the Shagary River, about seventy-five miles from the city of New York. Bob at the beginning of this story was about sixteen years old, tall and stalwart and a clean-cut specimen of upstanding American youth. He was of rather dark complexion and had a pair of eyes that looked straight at one. Those eyes were usually merry, but could flash with indignation when circumstances required it. He was never on the lookout for trouble, but was always ready to meet it half way, and his courageous character together with his vigorous physique had made him prominent in the sports of the boys of his own age. He was a crack baseball player and one of the chief factors of the high school football eleven. No one in Clintonia was held in better liking. Bob's special chum was Joe Atwood, son of the leading physician of the town. Joe was fair in complexion and sturdy in makeup. He and Bob had been for many years almost inseparable companions, Bob usually acting as captain in anything in which they might be engaged, while Joe served as first mate. The latter had a hot temper, and his impulsiveness sometimes got him into trouble and would have involved him in scrapes oftener if it had not been for the cooler head and steadying influence of Bob. Two other friends of the boys who were almost always in their company were Herb Fennington, whose father kept a large general store in the town, and Jimmy Plummer, son of a respected carpenter and contractor. Herb was of a rather indolent disposition, but was jolly and good-natured and always full of jokes, some of them good, others poor, which he frequently sought to spring on his companions. Jimmy was a trifle younger than his mates, fat and round and excessively fond of the good things of life. His liking for that special dainty had gained him the nickname of "Doughnuts," and few of such nicknames were ever more fittingly bestowed. Apart from the liking that drew them together, the boys had another link in their common interest in radio. From the time that this wonderful new science had begun to spread over the country with such amazing rapidity, they had been among the most ardent "fans." Everything that they could read or learn on the subject was devoured with avidity, and they were almost constantly at the home of one or the other, listening in on their radio sets and, lately, sending messages, in the latter of which they had now attained an unusual degree of proficiency. In decided contrast to Bob and his friends was another group of Clintonia youth, between whom and the radio boys there was a pronounced antipathy. The leader of this group was Buck Looker, a big overgrown, hulking boy, dull in his studies and a bully in character. His two special cronies were Carl Lutz, a boy of about his own age, and Terry Mooney, both of them noted for their mean and sneaking dispositions. Buck lorded it over them, and as his father was one of the richest men in the town they cringed before him and were always ready to back him up in any piece of meanness and mischief. The enthusiasm of Bob and his friends for radio was fostered by the help and advice of the Reverend Doctor Dale, the clergyman in charge of the Old First Church of Clintonia, who, in addition to being an eloquent preacher, was keenly interested in all latter-day developments of science, especially radio. Whenever the boys got into trouble with their sets they knew that all they had to do was to go to the genial doctor and be helped out of their perplexities. An incident that gave a great impetus to their interest in the subject was the offering of prizes by Mr. Ferberton, the member of Congress for their district, for the best radio sets turned out by the boys of his congressional district by their own endeavors. Bob, Joe, and Jimmy entered into this competition with great zest. Herb with his habitual indolence kept out of it. While the boys were engrossed with their radio experiments an incident happened in town that led them into many unexpected adventures. An automobile run by a visitor in town, a Miss Nellie Berwick, got out of her control and dashed through the window of a store. Bob and Joe, who happened to be at hand, rescued the girl from imminent peril, while Herb and Jimmy did good work in curbing the fire that followed the accident. How the boys learned of the orphan girl's story, got on the track of the rascal who had tried to swindle her and forced him to make restitution; what part the radio played in bringing the fellow to terms; how they detected and thwarted the plans of Buck Looker and his cronies to wreck their sets; are told in the first volume of this series entitled: "The Radio Boys' First Wireless; Or, Winning the Ferberton Prize." That summer the chums went to Ocean Point on the seashore, where many of the Clintonia folks had established a little bungalow colony of their own. What adventures they met with there; what strides they made in the practical work of radio; how they were enabled by their knowledge and quick application of it to save a storm-tossed ship on which members of their own families were voyaging; how they ran down and captured the scoundrel Cassey who had knocked out with a blackjack the operator at the sending station and looted his safe--these and many more incidents are narrated in the second volume of this series entitled: "The Radio Boys at Ocean Point; Or, The Message That Saved the Ship." While the summer season was yet at its height, the boys had occasion to rescue the occupants of a rowboat that had been run down by men in a stolen motor boat. The two rescued youths proved to be vaudeville actors, and the boys grew very friendly with them. The injury that crippled one of them, Larry Bartlett; the false accusation brought against him by Buck Looker; the way in which the boys succeeded in getting work for Larry at the sending station, where his remarkable gift of mimicry received recognition; how they themselves were placed on the broadcasting program, and the clever way in which they trapped the motor-boat thieves; are told in the third volume of the series, entitled: "The Radio Boys at the Sending Station; Or, Making Good in the Wireless Room." The coming of fall brought the boys back to Clintonia, where, however, the usual course of their studies was interrupted by an epidemic that made necessary for a time the closing of the schools. This gave the radio boys an opportunity to make a trip to Mountain Pass, a popular resort in the hills. Here they came in contact with a group of plotters who were trying to put through a nefarious deal and were able to thwart the rascals through the use of radio. By that same beneficent science too they were able to save a life when other means of communication were blocked. And not the least satisfactory feature was the utter discomfiture they were able to visit upon Buck Looker and his gang. These and many other adventures are told in the fourth volume of the series, entitled: "The Radio Boys at Mountain Pass; Or, The Midnight Call for Assistance." And now to return to the radio boys as they stood facing the angry storekeeper amid a constantly growing throng of curious onlookers. They had been in many tighter fixes in their life but none that was more embarrassing. "I'll have them arrested!" the storekeeper repeated, his voice rising to a shrill treble. "Now look here," replied Bob. "Suppose you cut out this talk of having us arrested. In the first place, we didn't break your window. In the second place, if we had it wouldn't be a matter of arrest but of making good the damage." "All right then," said Mr. Larsen eagerly, catching at the last word. "Make good the damage. It will cost at least two hundred dollars to replace that window." "I think you're a little high," returned Bob. "But that doesn't matter. I didn't say that we'd make the damage good. I said that if we'd broken it, it would be a matter of making good. But we didn't break it, and that lets us out I'll say." "It's easy to say that," sneered the merchant. "How do I know that you didn't break it? It would of course be natural for you to try to lie out of it." "It wouldn't be natural for us to lie out of it," replied Bob, controlling his temper with difficulty. "That isn't our way of doing things. Why do you suppose we stayed here when it would have been perfectly easy for us to get away? It wasn't a snowball we threw that broke your window. It was one thrown by the fellows we were fighting with." "Always the other fellow that does it!" replied the storekeeper angrily. "Who was that other fellow or fellows then? Tell me that. Come on now, tell me that." Bob kept silent. He had no love for Buck Looker and his gang, who had always tried to injure him, but he was not going to inform. "See," said Mr. Larsen, misunderstanding his silence. "When I ask you, you can't tell me. You're the fellows that did it, all right, and you'll pay me for it or I'll have you put in jail, that's what I'll do." "I saw the fellows who were firing snowballs in this direction," spoke up Mr. Talley, a caterer, pushing his way through the throng. "I nearly bumped into them as they were running away. Buck Looker was one of them. I saw his face plainly and can't be mistaken. The others I'm not so sure of, but I think they were Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney. "For my part, Mr. Larsen," he continued, "I don't see how a snowball could break that heavy plate-glass window, anyway. My windows are no heavier, and they've often had snowballs come against them without doing any harm. Are you sure it wasn't something else that smashed the glass?" "Dead sure," replied Larsen. "Come inside and see for yourself." He led the way into his store, and Mr. Talley, the boys, and a number of others crowded in after him. "Look," said Larsen, pointing to a piece of dress goods that had been hanging in the window. "See where the snow has splashed against it? There's no question that a snowball did it. You can see the bits of snow around here yet if you'll only look." This was true and the evidence seemed conclusive. But just then Bob's keen eyes detected something else. He stooped down and brought up quite a large sharp-edged stone which still had some fragments of snow adhering to it and held it up for all to see. "Here's the answer," he said. "This stone was packed in the snowball, and that is why it smashed the window!" CHAPTER III THE STUTTERING VOICE There was a stir of interest and exclamations of surprise as those in the store crowded closer to get a better view. "That explains it," said Mr. Talley, as he examined the missile. "I was sure that no mere ball of snow could break that heavy window. To put such a stone in a snowball was little less than criminal," he went on gravely. "If that had hit any one on the temple it would almost certainly have killed him." "It was coming straight for my head when I dodged," said Bob. "That's another proof that it wasn't any ball we threw that broke the window," put in Joe. "Each one of us is willing to swear that there was no stone in any ball that we threw." "Not only then but at any time," put in Herb. "Only a mean coward would do a thing like that. None of us has done it any time in his life." "I believe that," replied Mr. Talley. "I've known all you boys ever since you were little kids and I know you wouldn't be capable of it." "That's all very well," said Mr. Larsen. "But that doesn't pay for my window. Whether any of you boys threw the ball or not you can't deny that you were engaged in a snowball fight right in front of my windows. If the fight hadn't been going on the window wouldn't have been smashed." There was a certain amount of justice in this, and the boys were fair enough to acknowledge it. "I suppose you are right there, Mr. Larsen," said Bob regretfully. "We ought to have kept out of range of the windows, but in the excitement we forgot all about that. Then, too, we never would have supposed that any ordinary snowball would have broken the window. Perhaps that was in the back of our minds, if we thought of it at all." "Is the window insured?" queried Mr. Talley. "Yes, it is," answered the storekeeper. "Well, then, that lets you out," remarked Mr. Talley, with a note of relief in his voice. "That puts the matter up to the insurance company. If they want to take any legal steps they can; and of course they ought to be compensated by the parents of the boy who may be found guilty of having thrown the ball with a stone in it. For my part, I doubt very much that it can ever be proved, unless the boy himself owns up to it." "Think of Buck Looker ever owning up to anything!" muttered Jimmy. "As for these boys," continued Mr. Talley, "I am perfectly sure in my own mind that they are telling the truth. You'll have to look for the culprit in the other crowd, and I've already told you who they are, or who one of them is, at least." "Well," said the storekeeper, who by this time had cooled down considerably, "that, I suppose, will be something for the insurance company to settle. But by the terms of my contract with them I'll have to help them all I can to find out the responsible party, and I'll have to give them the names of all the boys concerned in the fight." "That's all right," responded Bob. "You know our folks and you know that they're good for any judgment that may be found against them. But I'm sure it will be somebody else that will have to pay the bill." There was nothing more to be done for the present, and the boys filed out of the store, after having expressed their thanks to Mr. Talley for the way he had championed their cause. "Gee!" murmured Joe, as they went up the street toward their homes, "I know how a fellow feels now after he's been put through the third degree." "It was rather a hot session," agreed Bob. "But I'm glad we had it out with him instead of running away. It's always best to take the bull by the horns. And you can't blame Mr. Larsen for feeling sore about it. Any one of us would probably have felt the same way." "Sure thing," admitted Herb. "But think of that dirty trick of Buck Looker in putting stones in snowballs! It wasn't only that one that went through the window. Every time I got hit it made me jump." "Same here," said Jimmy. "I was thinking all the time that they were the hardest snowballs I ever felt, but it never came into my mind that there were stones in them." "Trust Buck to be up to every mean trick that any one ever thought of," returned Bob. "He hasn't got over the way we showed him up at Mountain Pass. He thought he had us dead to rights in the matter of that burned cottage, and it made him wild to see the way we came out on top. He and his gang would do anything to get even." "It will be interesting to see what he'll say when this matter of the window is put up to him and his pals," remarked Herb. "Not a doubt in the world what he'll say," replied Joe. "He'll swear till he's blue in the face that he never dreamed of using a stone in the snowballs. Do you remember how he told us that he'd lie in court to keep us from putting anything over on him? Any one that expects to get the truth out of Buck is barking up the wrong tree. I guess the insurance company would better kiss their money good-by." "I'm afraid so," returned Bob. "It was dark and there probably weren't any witnesses who saw them put the stones in, and it is likely that the company will have to let the matter drop." The lads had reached Bob's gate by this time, and they separated with a promise to come over and listen in on the radio later on. Bob told the whole story to his parents at the supper table that night, and his father and mother listened with great interest and some concern. "I'm sorry you were mixed up in the thing at all, Bob," his father remarked thoughtfully. "Being in it, however, you acted just as you should have done. Just how far you and your friends may be held responsible, in case they can't find the one who actually threw the ball that broke the window, I'm not lawyer enough to say. It's barely possible that there may be some ground for action on the score of culpable carelessness in taking part in a snowball fight in front of store windows, and of course you were wrong in doing that. But the total amount involved is not very great after all, and it would be divided up among the parents of the four of you, so there's nothing much to worry about. It would gall me though to have to pay for damages that were really caused by that cub of Looker's." "I'm sorry, Dad," said Bob. "I'm hoping yet that something may develop that will put the thing up to Buck, or whoever it was of his gang that actually threw the ball." "Let's hope so," returned Mr. Layton, though without much conviction in his voice, and dismissed the subject. A little while afterward the other three boys came over to Bob's house to listen in on the radio concert. So much time, however, had been taken up in discussing the afternoon's adventure that they missed Larry's offering, which was among the first on the program. This was a keen disappointment, which was tempered, however, by the probability that they could hear him some evening later in the week. "Sorry," remarked Joe. "But it only means that we still have a treat in store when the old boy begins to roar and growl and hiss so as to make us think that a whole menagerie has broken loose and is chasing us. In the meantime we can fix up that aerial so as to get a little better results." "Funny thing I noticed the other day," remarked Bob, as they embarked upon some experiments. "All sorts of funny things in the radio game," observed Joe. "Something new turns up every day. Things in your set that you think you can't do without you find you can do without and get results just about as usual." "Just what I was going to tell you," returned Bob. "You must be something of a prophet." "Oh, I wouldn't go quite so far as to say that," replied Joe, with mock modesty. "Isn't he the shrinking violet?" chaffed Jimmy. "Stop your kidding, you boobs, and let a regular fellow talk," chided Bob. "What I was going to say was that while I was tinkering with the set I disconnected the ground wire. Of course I thought that would put the receiver out of business for the time, and I was almost knocked silly when I found that I could hear the concert that was going on just about as well as though the wire had been connected. How do you account for that?" "Don't account for it at all," replied Herb. "Probably just a freak, and might not happen again in a thousand times. Likely it was one of the unexplainable things that happen once in a while. Maybe there was a ground connection of some kind, if not by the wire. I wouldn't bank on it." "It's queer, too, how many kinds of things can be used as aerials," put in Joe. "I heard the other day of a man in an apartment house where the owner objected to aerials, who used the clothesline for that purpose. The wire ran through the rope, which covered it so that it couldn't be seen. It didn't prevent its use as a clothesline either, for he could hear perfectly when the wash was hanging on it." "Oh, almost anything will do as an aerial," chimed in Jimmy. "The rib of an umbrella, the rainspout at the side of the house, the springs of a bed give good results. And that's one of the mighty good things about radio. People that have to count the pennies don't have to buy a lot of expensive materials. They can put a set together with almost any old thing that happens to be knocking around the house." Bob had been working steadily, and, as the room was warm, his hands were moist with perspiration. He had unhooked an insulated copper wire that led to his outside aerial. His head phones were on, as he had been listening to the radio concert while he worked. "I'll have to miss the rest of that selection, I guess," he remarked regretfully, as he unhooked the wire. "It's a pity, too, for that's one of the finest violin solos I ever heard. Great Scott! What does that mean?" The ejaculation was wrenched from him by the fact that although he had disconnected the wire he still heard the music--a little fainter than before but still with every note distinct. He could scarcely believe his ears and looked at his friends in great bewilderment. "What's the matter?" asked Joe, jumping to his feet. "Get a shock?" "Not in the sense you mean, but in another way, yes," replied Bob, still holding the exposed end of the copper wire in his fingers. "What do you think of that, fellows? I'm an aerial!" "Come out of your trance," adjured Herb unbelievingly. "They talk that way in the insane asylums." "Clap on your headphones," cried Bob, too intent on his discovery to pay any attention to the gibe. They did so, and were amazed at hearing the selection as plainly as did Bob himself. The latter had been holding the disconnected wire so that his fingers just touched the uncovered copper portion at the end. Now he hastily scraped off several inches of the insulation and grasped the copper wire with his hand. Instantly the volume of sound grew perceptibly greater. Hardly knowing what to make of it, he scraped off still more of the insulation. "Here, you fellows," he shouted. "Each of you take hold of this." Joe was the first to respond, and the sound became louder. Then Herb and Jimmy followed suit, and it was evident that they served as amplifiers, for with each additional hand the music swelled to greater volume. The boys looked at each other as if asking whether this was all real or if they had suddenly been transferred to some realm of fancy. They would not have been greatly surprised to wake up suddenly and find that they had been dreaming. But there was no delusion about it and they listened without saying another word until, in a glorious strain of melody, the selection came to an end. Nor did they break the silence until a band orchestra was announced and crashed into a brilliant overture. While it was still in full swing, Bob had an inspiration. He took off his headphones and clamped them on to the phonograph that stood on a table near by. Instantly the music became intensified and filled the room. When all their hands were on the wire, it became so loud that they had to close the doors of the phonograph. "Well," gasped Bob, when the last strain had died away and the demonstration was complete, "that's something new on me." "Never dreamed of anything like it," said Joe, sinking back in his chair. "Of course we know that the human body has electrical capacity and that operators sometimes have to use metal shields to protect the tube from the influence of the hand. And in our loop aerial at Ocean Point you noticed that the receptivity of the tube was modified when we touched it with our fingers." "Of course, in theory," observed Bob thoughtfully, "the human body possesses inductance as well as capacity, and so might serve as an antenna. But I never thought of demonstrating it in practice." "So Bob is an aerial," grinned Herb. "I always knew he was a 'live wire,' but I never figured him out as an antenna." "And don't forget that if Bob is an aerial we're amplifiers," put in Jimmy. "There's glory enough for all," laughed Joe. "We'll have to tell Doctor Dale and Frank Brandon about this. We've got so many tips from them that it's about time we made it the other way around." They were so excited about this new development which they had stumbled upon purely through accident that they sat talking about it for a long time until Bob chanced to look at his watch. "Just have time for the last selection," he remarked, as he reconnected the aerial. "We'll wind up in the regular way this time. It's an aria from Lucia and I don't want to miss it." He had some difficulty in making his adjustment, as there was a lot of interference at the moment. "Raft of amateurs horning in," he muttered. "All of them seem to have chosen just this time to do it. I wonder----" He stopped as though he had been shot, and listened intently. Then he beckoned to the others to adjust their headphones. Into the receiver was coming a succession of stuttering sounds that eventually succeeded in framing intelligible words. Ordinarily this might have provoked laughter, but not now. They had heard that voice before. It was the voice of Dan Cassey! CHAPTER IV A PUZZLING MYSTERY For the second time that evening the radio boys thought they must be dreaming. Cassey! Cassey the swindler, whom they had compelled to make restitution to the victim he had wronged. Cassey the thug, whom they had captured in that wild chase after he had looted the safe and nearly killed the operator in the sending station. Cassey the convict, who, to their certain knowledge, had been sentenced to a long term in prison. What was Cassey doing over the radio? That it was that scoundrel they had no doubt. The stuttering, the tones of the voice, the occasional whistle which he indulged in in order to go on--all these things they recognized perfectly. It was the wildest kind of improbability that he had a double anywhere who could reproduce him so perfectly. Gone now was any thought of the aria from Lucia. Bob motioned frantically to Jimmy to hand him a pencil and a sheet of paper. Then he jotted down the words, as after great efforts they fell one by one from the stutterer's lips. As Bob did this he bent over the paper in frowning perplexity. The words themselves were intelligible, but they did not seem to make sense, nor was there anywhere a connected sentence. Finally the stammering voice ceased, and after they had waited several minutes longer to make sure that it would not resume, the boys took off their headphones and gazed at each other in utter bewilderment. "Well, I'll be blessed!" exclaimed Joe. "That villain Cassey, of all men on the face of the earth! What do you make of it, Bob?" "I don't know what to make of it," confessed Bob. "It has simply knocked me endways. I never thought to hear of that rascal again for the rest of my life. Yet here he is, less than a year after he's been sentenced, talking over the radio." "Perhaps he's received a pardon," hazarded Jimmy. "Not at all likely," answered Bob. "It isn't as though he were a first offender. He's old in crime. You remember the raking over the judge gave him when he sentenced him. Told him if he had it in his power he'd give him more than he actually did. No, I think we can dismiss that idea." "Isn't it possible," suggested Herb, "that he's employed as radio operator in the prison? He understands sending and receiving all right." "That doesn't strike me hard either," Bob objected. "Likely enough the prison is equipped with a wireless set, but it isn't probable that they'd let a prisoner operate it. It would give him too good a chance to get in touch with confederates outside the jail. Then, too, his stuttering would make him a laughing stock. "The only explanation that I can see," he went on, "is that he's escaped, and he's sending this message on his own hook. Though what the message is about is beyond me." "Just what did you get down?" asked Jimmy curiously. "I caught a few words, but I don't remember them all." "It's a regular hodgepodge," replied Bob, spreading out the sheet of paper, while they all crowded around to read. "Corn--hay--six--paint--water--slow--sick--jelly," read Joe aloud. "Sounds to me like the ravings of a delirium patient." "And yet I'm sure that I got all the words down right," said Bob perplexedly. "It must be a code of some kind. We can't understand it, and Cassey didn't mean that any one should except some one person whose ear was glued to a radiophone. But you can bet that that person understood it all right." "I wonder if we couldn't make it out," suggested Herb. "No harm in trying," said Joe, "though compared to this a Chinese puzzle is as simple as A B C. Let's take a hack at it, anyhow. We'll each take a separate sheet of paper and try to get something out of it that makes sense." For nearly an hour the boys did their best. They put the words in different orders, read them forward and backward. But the ideas conveyed by the separate words were so utterly dissimilar that they could frame nothing that had the slightest glimmering of sense and they were finally compelled to give it up. "If time were money, we'd spend enough on this stuff to make us bankrupt," Joe remarked, in vast disgust, as he rose to get his cap. "Dan Cassey was foxy when he made this up. We'll have to give the rascal credit for that." "Yes," admitted Herb, "it's the best kind of a code. Any one of those words might mean any one of a hundred thousand things. A man might spend a lifetime on it and be no nearer success at the end than he was when he started. The only way it can be unraveled is by finding the key that tells what the words stand for. And even that may not exist in written form. The fellows may simply have committed them to memory. "I'll tell you what I'll do!" Bob exclaimed. "I'll get the prison to-morrow on the long distance 'phone and ask them about Cassey. I'll tell them all about this radio message, and it may be a valuable tip to them. They may be able to locate the station from which the messages come, if there are any more of them. You remember how Mr. Brandon located Cassey's sending station the first time." Bob was as good as his word, and got in communication with the prison just before school time. The warden was gruff and inclined to be uncommunicative at first, but his manner changed remarkably after he heard of the radio message and he inquired eagerly for the slightest details. "Yes, Cassey has escaped," he told Bob. "He got away about two months ago. He had behaved himself well for the first six months of his imprisonment, and we made him a trusty. In that capacity he had access to various parts of the prison and occasionally to my own quarters, which are in a wing connected with the prison. In some way that hasn't yet been discovered he got possession of clothes to cover his prison uniform and got away one day from the yard in which he was working. Probably with his help, two others got away at the same time. Their names are Jake Raff and Toppy Gillen, both of them desperate criminals and in for long terms. Likely enough the three of them are operating together somewhere. We made a careful search for them and have sent out descriptions of them to the police of all the important cities in the United States. But this clue of yours is the only one we have, and it may prove a most important one. I'll see that the Federal radio authorities are notified at once. Keep in touch with me and let me know if you come across anything else that seems to point to Cassey. His escape is a sore point with me, and I'd be glad to have him once more behind the bars. You can be sure he'll never get away again until he's served out the last day of his sentence." With a warm expression of thanks the warden hung up his telephone receiver, and Bob hurried off to school to tell his comrades of what he had learned. There was no chance for this, however, before recess, as he had been kept so long at the telephone that he was barely able to reach the school before the bell rang. When at last he told them of his talk with the warden, they listened with spellbound interest. "So the villain managed to escape, did he?" ruminated Joe. "That's a black mark against the warden, and it's no wonder he's anxious to get him back. I'd hate to be in Cassey's shoes if the prison gates ever close on him again." "You'd think it would be a comparatively easy matter to capture him," suggested Herb. "The fact that he stutters so badly makes him a marked man." "You can bet that he doesn't do any more talking than he can help," replied Joe. "And, for that matter, I suppose there are a good many thousand stutterers in the United States. Almost every town has one or more. Of course it's against him, but it doesn't by any means make it a sure thing that he'll be nabbed." Buck Looker and his cronies happened to pass them in the yard just at that moment and caught the last word. Buck whispered something to Carl Lutz, and the latter broke out into uproarious laughter. It was so obviously directed against Joe that his impulsive temper took fire at once. He stepped up to the trio, despite Bob's outstretched hand that tried to restrain him. "Were you fellows laughing at me?" he asked of the three, though his eyes were fastened directly on Buck's. "Not especially at you," returned Buck insolently. "But at something you said." "And what was that?" asked Joe, coming a step nearer, at which Buck stepped back a trifle. "About getting nabbed," he said. "It made me think of some fellows I know that were nabbed last night for breaking windows." "Oh, that was it!" remarked Joe, with dangerous calmness while his fist clenched. "Now let me tell you what it reminds me of. It makes me think of three cowards who smashed a window last night with a stone packed in a snowball and then ran away as fast as their legs could carry them. Perhaps you'd like me to tell you their names?" "I don't know what you're talking about," retorted Buck, changing color. "Oh, yes, you do," replied Joe. "And while I'm about it, I'll add that the fellows who smashed the window were not only cowards, but worse. And their names are Buck Looker, Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney." "What's that?" cried Buck, bristling up, while an angry growl arose from his cronies. "You heard me the first time," replied Joe; "but to get it into your thick heads I'll say it again. The cowards, and worse, I referred to are named Buck Looker, Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney." CHAPTER V MARVELS OF WIRELESS "That's fighting talk," blustered Buck, as he made a pretense of getting ready to throw off his coat. "That's precisely what I want it to be," declared Joe, as he tore off his coat and threw it to the ground. By this time most of the boys in the school yard had sensed the tenseness of the situation and had gathered around Joe and Buck, forming a ring many lines deep. "A fight!" was the cry. "Go in, Joe!" "Soak him, Buck!" Before Joe's determined attitude and flashing eyes, Buck wavered. He fingered his coat uncertainly and glanced toward the school windows. "There's one of the teachers looking out," he declared. "And it's against the rules to fight on the school grounds. If it wasn't for that I'd beat you up." There was a general snicker from the boys at Buck Looker's sudden regard for the rules of the school. "Any other place you can think of where you'd like to beat me up?" said Joe sarcastically. "How about this afternoon after school down by the river?" "I----I've got to go out of town this afternoon," Buck stammered. "But don't you worry. I'll give you all the fight you're looking for the first chance I get." Murmurs of derision arose from the crowd, and the flush on the bully's sour face grew much deeper. "You're just a yellow dog, Buck!" exclaimed Joe, in disgust. "Have I got to pull your nose to make you stand up to me?" He advanced toward him, and Buck retreated. What would have happened next will never be known, for just at that moment one of the teachers emerged from the school and came toward the ring. Hostilities at the moment were out of the question, and the boys began to scatter. Buck heaved a sigh of evident relief, and now that he felt himself safe, all his old bluster came back to him. "It's mighty lucky for you that Bixby came out just then," he declared. "I was just getting ready to thrash you within an inch of your life." Joe laughed sarcastically. "The trouble with you, Buck, is that you spend so much time getting ready that you never have any time for real fighting," he remarked. "It took you an awfully long time to get your coat unbuttoned." "They laugh best who laugh last," growled Buck. "And don't forget that you fellows have got to pay for that glass you broke." "You've got another guess coming," replied Joe. "You or one of your gang broke that glass and we can prove it." "I wasn't downtown that night at all," said Buck glibly. "Don't add any more lies to your score," said Joe scornfully. "We've got you! You and your gang are the only fellows in town who would put stones in snowballs, anyway." "If that's all the evidence you've got, it wouldn't go far in a court of law," sneered Buck. "Any judge would see that you were trying to back out of it by putting it up to somebody else." "Perhaps you don't know that Mr. Talley bumped into you while you were running away," remarked Joe. This shot told, for Buck had banked on the darkness and had forgotten all about his encounter with Mr. Talley. He had been nursing the comfortable assurance that all he had to do was to deny. Now his house of cards had come tumbling about his ears. Mr. Talley was a respected citizen, and his word would be accepted by everybody. Joe saw the effect of his remark and smiled drily. "Want to revise that statement of yours that you weren't downtown at all last night?" he asked, with affected politeness. "He--he was mistaken," stammered Buck weakly, as he walked away, followed by his discomfited cronies. "I guess that will hold him for a while," chuckled Jimmy, as the radio boys watched his retreating figure. Two or three days passed without special developments. The broken pane of glass had been restored and the parents of the boys had been formally notified by the insurance company that they would be held responsible jointly for the damages. A similar notice had been sent to the fathers of Buck and his mates. Mr. Looker replied, denying that his son was at all implicated in the matter and refusing to pay. Mr. Layton admitted that his son had been throwing snowballs in front of the store on the night in question, but he stated that he had not thrown the ball with a stone in it that broke the window. He added that any further communication regarding the matter could be sent to his lawyer. Of the others involved, some had taken similar positions and others had ignored the matter altogether, leaving it to the insurance company to make the next move. And there for the time the matter rested. The radio boys had missed Larry's performance on the night that he had opened with his new repertoire, but they were bound not to be cheated of the second, which took place only a few nights later. They crowded eagerly about the radio set when their friend's turn was announced, and listened with a breathless interest, that was intensified by their warm personal regard for the performer, to the rendition of the cries of various animals with which Larry regaled them. The imitations were so lifelike that the boys might well have imagined they were in a zoölogical garden. Lions, tigers, bears, elephants, snakes, moose, and other specimens of the animal and the reptile tribes were imitated with a fidelity that was amazing. In addition, the renditions were interspersed with droll and lively comments by Larry that added immensely to the humor of the performance. When at last it was over, the boys broke out into enthusiastic hand-clapping that would have warmed Larry's heart, had he been able to hear it. "The old boy is all there!" chortled Bob enthusiastically. "He's a wonder!" ejaculated Joe. "No question there of a square peg in a round hole. He's found exactly the work in life he's specially fitted for." "And think of the audience he has," put in Jimmy. "At this very minute there are probably hundreds of thousands of people who have been tickled to death at his performance. Just suppose those people all clapped their hands at once just as we have done and we could hear it. Why, it would be like a young earthquake." At this moment the doorbell rang, and Dr. Dale was announced. He spent a few minutes with Mr. and Mrs. Layton, and then came up to have a little chat with the boys. This was one thing he never overlooked. His interest in and sympathy with the young were unbounded, and accounted largely for the influence that he exerted in the community. The radio boys greeted the minister warmly and gladly made room for him around the table. His coming was never felt by them to be an interruption. They regarded him almost as one of themselves. Apart, too, from the thorough liking they had for him as a man, they were exceedingly grateful to him for the help he had been to them in radio matters. He was their mentor, guide and friend. "I knew I'd find you busy with the radio," he said, with a genial smile. "We can't be torn away from it," replied Bob. "We think it's just the greatest thing that ever happened. Just now we've been listening to Larry Bartlett give his imitations of animals. You remember Larry?" "I certainly do," replied Dr. Dale. "And I remember how you boys helped him get his present position. It was one of the best things you ever did. He's certainly a finished artist. I heard him on his opening night, and I've laughed thinking of it many times since. He's a most amusing entertainer." It was the first opportunity the boys had had to tell the doctor of the night when Bob found that he was a human aerial, and he listened to the many details of the experiment with absorbed interest. "It's something new to me," he said. "You boys have reason to be gratified at having had a novel experience. That's the beauty of radio. Something new is always cropping up. Many of the other sciences have been more or less fully explored, and while none of them will ever be exhausted, their limits have been to some extent indicated. But in radio we're standing just on the threshold of a science whose infinite possibilities have not even been guessed. One discovery crowds so closely on the heels of another that we have all we can do to keep track of them. "I've just got back from a little trip up in New York State," he went on, as he settled himself more comfortably in his chair, "and I stopped off at Schenectady to look over the big radio station there. By great good luck, Marconi happened to be there on the same day----" "Marconi!" breathed Bob. "The father of wireless!" "Yes," smiled Dr. Dale. "Or if you want to put it in another way, the Christopher Columbus who discovered the New World of radio. I counted it a special privilege to get a glimpse of him. But what attracted my special attention in the little while I could spend there was a small tube about eighteen inches long and two inches in diameter which many radio experts think will completely revolutionize long distance radio communication." "You mean the Langmuir tube," said Joe. "I was reading of it the other day, and it seems to be a dandy." "It's a wonderful thing," replied the doctor. "Likely enough it will take the place of the great transatlantic plants which require so much room and such enormous machinery. It's practically noiseless. Direct current is sent into the wire through a complicated wire system and generates a high frequency current of tremendous power. I saw it working when it was connected with an apparatus carrying about fifteen thousand volts of electricity in a direct current. A small blue flame shot through the tube with scarcely a particle of noise. The broken impulse from the electrical generators behind the tube was sent through the tube to be flung off from the antenna into space in the dots and dashes of the international code. That little tube was not much bigger than a stick of dynamite, but was infinitely more powerful. I was so fascinated by it and all that it meant that it was hard work to tear myself away from it. It marks a great step forward in the field of radio." "It must have been wonderfully interesting," remarked Bob. "And yet I suppose that in a year or two something new will be invented that will put even that out of date." "It's practically certain that there will be," assented the doctor. "The miracles of to-day become the commonplaces of to-morrow. That fifty-kilowatt tube that develops twelve horsepower within its narrow walls of glass, wonderful as it is, is bound to be superseded by something better, and the inventor himself would be the first one to admit it. Some of the finest scientific brains in the country are working on the problem, and he would be a bold prophet and probably a false prophet that would set any bounds to its possibilities. "Radio is yet in its infancy," the doctor concluded, as he rose to go. "But one thing is certain. In the lifetime of those who witnessed its birth it will become a giant--but a benevolent giant who, instead of destroying will re-create our civilization." CHAPTER VI THE FOREST RANGER Some days later Bob and Herb and Joe were on their way to Bob's house to do a little experimenting on the latter's set, when they were surprised at the alacrity with which Jimmy turned a corner and came puffing up to them. "Say, fellows!" he yelled, as he came within earshot, "I've got some mighty interesting news for you." "Let's have it," said Bob. "It's about the snowball Buck fired through the window," panted Jimmy, falling into step beside them. "I met a man who's staying up at the Sterling House. He says Buck's the boy who did it, all right." "How does he know?" all of the others asked with interest. "Saw Buck pick up a stone and pack the snow hard around it," said Jimmy importantly. "He saw it himself, so we've got one witness for our side, all right." "That's good," said Bob, adding, with a glint in his eye: "Say, wouldn't I like to get my hands on Buck, just for about five minutes!" "Well, you won't have a chance," said Jimmy, enjoying being the bearer of so much news. "Buck's gone with his father to a lumber camp up in Braxton woods." "How do you know all this?" inquired Herb curiously. "You seem to be chock full of information to-day." "Oh, a little bird told me," said Jimmy, looking mysterious. However, as Herb made a threatening motion toward him, he hurried to explain. "I met Terry Mooney," he said. "I told him I knew all about who put the stone in the snowball and I told him that our crowd was going to make his look like two cents. He laughed and said swell chance we'd have. Said Buck had gone to the lumber camp with his father and that he and Carl Lutz were going to join him in a day or two. Just like Buck to run away when he knows there's a good licking coming to him!" added Jimmy, with a sneer. "Oh, well, what do we care?" said Joe. "At least we sha'n't have those fellows around spoiling all the fun." "I'm glad you found out about the snowball just the same," said Bob thoughtfully. "Every little bit helps when we have to fight against that crooked gang of Buck's." "Here's hoping," said Herb fervently, "that they stay away all the rest of the spring." By this time the lads had reached Bob's house. It was Saturday afternoon, and as the boys crowded noisily into the hall Bob noticed that his father was in the library and that he seemed to have company. He was starting upstairs with the other lads when his father came out of the library and called to him. "Come on in for a few minutes, boys," he said. "I have a friend here who is a man after your own hearts," and his eyes twinkled. "He's interested in radio." The boys needed no second invitation, for they never missed an opportunity of meeting any one who could tell them something about the wonders of radio. Mr. Layton's guest was lounging in one of the great chairs in the library, and from the moment the boys laid eyes on him they knew they were going to hear something of more than usual interest. The stranger was big, over six feet, and his face and hands were like a Cuban's, they were so dark. Even his fair hair seemed to have been burnt a darker hue by the sun. There was a tang of the great out-of-doors about him, a hint of open spaces and adventure that fascinated the radio boys. "This is my son, Mr. Bentley," said Mr. Layton to the lounging stranger, still with a twinkle in his eye. "And the other boys are his inseparable companions. Also I think they are almost as crazy about radio as you are." The stranger laughed and turned to Bob. "I've been upstairs to see your set," he said, adding heartily: "It's fine. I've seldom seen better amateur equipment." If Bob had liked this stranger before, it was nothing to what he felt for him now. To the radio boys, if any one praised their radio sets, this person, no matter who it was, promptly became their friend for life. "I'm glad you think it's pretty good," Bob said modestly. "We fellows have surely worked hard enough over it." "This gentleman here," said Mr. Layton to the boys, "ought to know quite a bit about radio. He operates an airplane in the service of our Government Forestry." "In the United States Forest Service?" cried Bob, breathlessly, eyeing the stranger with increasing interest. "And is your airplane equipped with radio?" "Very much so," replied Mr. Bentley. "It seems almost a fairy tale--what radio has done for the Forest Service." "I've read a lot about the fighting of forest fires," broke in Joe eagerly. "But I didn't know radio had anything to do with it." "It hadn't until the last few years," the visitor answered, adding, with a laugh: "But now it's pretty near the whole service!" "Won't you tell us something about what you do?" asked Bob. Mr. Bentley waved a deprecating hand while Mr. Layton leaned back in his chair with the air of one who is enjoying himself. "It isn't so much what I do," protested this interesting newcomer, while the boys hung upon his every word. "It is what radio has done in the fighting of forest fires that is the marvelous, the almost unbelievable, thing. The man who first conceived the idea of bringing radio into the wilderness had to meet and overcome the same discouragements that fall to the lot of every pioneer. "The government declared that the cost of carrying and setting up the radio apparatus would be greater than the loss occasioned every season by the terribly destructive forest fires. But there was a fellow named Adams who thought he knew better." "Adams!" repeated Bob breathlessly. "Wasn't he the fellow who had charge of the Mud Creek ranger station at Montana?" The visitor nodded and gazed at Bob with interest. "How did you know?" he asked. "Oh, I read something about him a while ago," answered Bob vaguely. He was chiefly interested in having Mr. Bentley go on. "I should think," said Herb, "that it would be pretty hard work carrying delicate radio apparatus into the lumber country." "You bet your life it is," replied Mr. Bentley. "The only way the apparatus can be carried is by means of pack horses, and as each horse can't carry more than a hundred and fifty pounds you see it takes quite a few of the animals to lug even an ordinary amount of apparatus. "The hardest part of the whole thing," he went on, warming to his recital as the boys were so evidently interested, "was packing the cumbersome storage batteries. These batteries were often lost in transit, too. If a pack horse happened to slip from the trail, its pack became loosened and went tumbling down the mountain side----" "That's the life!" interrupted Jimmy gleefully, and the visitor smiled at him. "You might not think so if you happened to be the one detailed to travel back over the almost impassable trails for the missing apparatus," observed Mr. Bentley ruefully. "It wasn't all fun, that pioneer installation of radio. Not by any means." "But radio turned the trick just the same," said Bob slangily. "I've read that a message that used to take two days to pass between ranger stations can be sent now in a few seconds." "Right!" exclaimed Mr. Bentley, his eyes glinting. "In a little while the saving in the cost of forest fires will more than pay for the installation of radio. We nose out a fire and send word by wireless to the nearest station, before the fire fairly knows it's started." "But just what is it that you do?" asked Joe, with flattering eagerness. "I do scout work," was the reply. "I help patrol the fire line in cases of bad fires. The men fighting the fire generally carry a portable receiving apparatus along with them, and by that means, I, in my airplane, can report the progress of a fire and direct the distribution of the men." "It must be exciting work," said Herb enviously. "That's just the kind of life I'd like--plenty of adventure, something doing every minute." "There's usually plenty doing," agreed Mr. Bentley, with a likable grin. "We can't complain that our life is slow." "I should think," said Bob slowly, "that it might be dangerous, installing sets right there in the heavy timber." "That's what lots of radio engineers thought also," agreed Mr. Bentley. "But no such trouble has developed so far, and I guess it isn't likely to now." "Didn't they have some trouble in getting power enough for their sets?" asked Joe, with interest. "Yes, that was a serious drawback in the beginning," came the answer. "They had to design a special equipment--a sort of gasoline charging plant. In this way they were able to secure enough power for the charging of the storage batteries." Bob drew a long breath. "Wouldn't I have liked to be the one to fit up that first wireless station!" he cried enthusiastically. "Just think how that Mr. Adams must have felt when he received his first message through the air." "It wasn't all fun," the interesting visitor reminded the boys. "The station was of the crudest sort, you know. The first operator had a box to sit on and another box served as the support for his apparatus." "So much the better," retorted Bob stoutly. "A radio fan doesn't know or care, half the time, what he's sitting on." "Which proves," said Mr. Bentley, laughing, "that you are a real one!" And at this all the lads grinned. "But say," interrupted Joe, going back to the problem of power, "weren't the engineers able to think up something to take the place of the gasoline charging stations?" "Oh, yes. But not without a good deal of experimenting. Now they are using two hundred and seventy number two Burgess dry batteries. These, connecting in series, secure the required three hundred and fifty-volt plate current." CHAPTER VII RADIO AND THE FIRE FIEND "Well, I hope that the boys know what you're talking about," interrupted Mr. Layton at this point, his eyes twinkling, "for I'm sure I don't." "They know what I'm talking about all right," returned his guest, admiration in his laughing eyes as he looked at the boys. "Unless I miss my guess, these fellows are the stuff of which radio experts are made. I bet they'll do great things yet." "Won't you tell us more about your experiences?" begged Herb, while the other boys tried not to look too pleased at the praise. "It isn't often we have a chance to hear of adventures like yours first hand." "Well," said Mr. Bentley, modestly, "I don't know that there's much to tell. All we scouts do is to patrol the country and watch for fires. Of course, in case of a big fire, our duties are more exciting. I remember one fire," he leaned back in his chair reminiscently and the boys listened eagerly, hanging on every word. "It was a beauty of its kind, covering pretty nearly fourteen miles. Thousands of dollars' worth of valuable timber was menaced. It looked for a time as if it would get the better of us, at that. "Men were scarce and there was a high wind to urge the fire on. A receiving set was rushed to the fire line, some of the apparatus in a truck and some carried by truck horses. My plane was detailed to patrol the fire line and give directions to the men who were fighting the fire." He paused, and the boys waited impatiently for him to go on. "The good old plane was equipped for both sending and receiving, and I tell you we patrolled that fourteen miles of flaming forest, sometimes coming so close to the tree tops that we almost seemed to brush them. "My duty, of course, was to report the progress of the fire. Controlled at one point, it broke out at another, and it was through the messages from my 'plane to the ground set stationed just behind the fire line that the men were moved from one danger point to the next. "Finally, the fire seeming nearly out along one side of the ridge, I sent the men to fighting it on the other side, where it had been left to rage uncontrolled. No sooner had the men scattered for the danger point than the brooding fire broke out again and it was necessary to recall half the men. "It was a long fight and a hard one, but with the aid of the blessed old wireless, we finally won out. As a matter of fact, the wireless-equipped airplane has become as necessary to the Forest Service as ships are to the navy. "In the old days," he went on, seeing that the boys were still deeply interested, "when they depended upon the ordinary telephone to convey warnings of fires they were surely leaning upon a broken reed. "Often, just when they needed the means of communication most, the fire would sweep through the woods, destroying trees to which the telephone wires were fastened, and melting the wires themselves. So the eyes of the Forest Service were put out and they were forced to work in the dark." "But I should think," protested Bob, "that there would be times when even wireless would be put out of the job. Suppose the fire were to reach one of the stations equipped with wireless. What then?" Mr. Bentley laughed as though amused at something. "I can tell you an interesting incident connected with that," he said. "And one that shows the pluck and common sense of radio operators in general--don't think that I'm throwing bouquets at myself, now, for first and last, I am a pilot, even if sometimes I find it necessary to employ radio. "Well, anyway, this operator that I am speaking of, found himself in a perilous position. A fire had been raging for days, and now it was so close to his station that the station itself was threatened. "One morning when he got up the smoke from the burning forest was swirling about the open space in front of the station and he knew that before long he would be seeing flame instead of smoke. The fire fighters had been working ceaselessly, fighting gallantly, but the elements were against them. The air was almost as dry and brittle as the wood which the flames lapped up and there was a steady wind that drove the fire on and on. "If only there might come a fog or the wind change its direction! But the radio man had no intention of waiting on the elements. I don't believe he gave more than a passing thought to his own safety--his chief interest was for the safety of his beloved apparatus. "He decided to dismantle the set, build a raft and set himself and the apparatus adrift upon the water in the attempt to save it. "And so he worked feverishly, while the fire came closer and he could hear the men who were fighting the fire shouting to each other. Finally he succeeded in dismantling the set and got it down to the water's edge. "Here he built a rough raft, piled the apparatus upon it, jumped after it, and drifted out into the middle of the lake." "Did the station burn down?" asked Jimmy excitedly. "No, fortunately. The wind died down in the nick of time, giving the men a chance to control the blaze. When it was evident the danger was past, the operator set up his apparatus again and prepared to continue his duties, as though nothing had happened. "There you have the tremendous advantage of radio. There were no wires to be destroyed. Only a radio set which could be dismantled and taken to safety while the fire raged." "That operator sure had his nerve with him, all right," said Bob admiringly. "More nerve than common sense perhaps," chuckled Mr. Bentley. "But you certainly can't help admiring him. He was right there when it came to grit." After a while they began to discuss technicalities, and the boys learned a great many things they had never known before. The pilot happening to mention that there were sometimes a number of airplanes equipped with radio operating within a restricted district, Joe wanted to know if they did not have a good deal of trouble with interference. "No. There was at first some interference by amateurs, but these soon learned to refrain from using their instruments during patrol periods. "You see," he explained, "we use a special type of transmitting outfit aboard our fire-detection craft. It's called the SCR-Seventy-three. The equipment obtains its power from a self-excited inductor type alternator. This is propelled by a fixed wooden-blade air fan. In the steam-line casing of the alternator the rotary spark gap, alternator, potential transformer, condenser and oscillation transformer are self-contained. Usually the alternator is mounted on the underside of the fuselage where the propeller spends its force in the form of an air stream. The telegraph sending keys, field and battery switch, dry battery, variometer and antenna reel are the only units included inside the fuselage. "The type of transmitter is a simple rotary gap, indirectly excited spark and provided with nine taps on the inductance coil of the closed oscillating circuit. Five varying toothed discs for the rotary spark gap yield five different signal tones and nine different wave lengths are possible. "So," he finished, looking around at their absorbed faces, "you see it is quite possible to press into service a number of airplanes without being bothered by interference." "It sounds complete," said Bob. "I'd like a chance to see one of those sets at close range sometime." The time passed so quickly that finally the visitor rose with an apology for staying so late. The radio boys were sorry to see him go. They could have sat for hours more, listening to him. "That fellow sure has had some experiences!" said Joe, as, a little later, the boys mounted the stairs to Bob's room. "It was mighty lucky we happened along while he was here." "You bet your life," said Herb. "I wouldn't have missed meeting him for a lot." "Say, fellows," Jimmy announced from the head of the stairs, "I know now what I'm going to do when I'm through school. It's me for the tall timber. I'm going to pilot an airplane in the service of my country." "Ain't he noble?" demanded Herb, grinning, as the boys crowded into Bob's room. CHAPTER VIII NEAR DISASTER Several days later while the radio boys were experimenting with their big set and talking over their interesting meeting with the Forest Service ranger, Herb displayed an immense horseshoe magnet. "Look what he's got for luck," chortled Jimmy. "The superstitious nut!" "Superstitious nothing!" snorted Herb. "If I'd wanted it for luck I wouldn't have got a magnet, would I? Any old common horseshoe would have done for luck." "Well, what's the big idea?" asked Bob, looking up from the audion tube he was experimenting with. "Or is there any?" he added, with a grin. "You bet your life there is!" returned Herb. "It's got to do with that very audion tube you're fussing with." "Ah, go on," jeered Joe, good-naturedly. "What's a magnet got to do with an audion tube, I'd like to know!" "Poor old Herb," added Jimmy, with a commiserating shake of the head. "Say, look here, all you fellows! Don't you go wasting any pity on me," cried Herb hotly. "If you don't look out, I won't show you my experiment at all." "Go on, Herb," said Bob consolingly. "I'm listening." "Well, I'm glad there's one sensible member of this bunch!" cried Herb, and from then on addressed himself solely to Bob. "Look here," he said. "You can make the audion tube ever so much more sensitive to vibration if you put this magnet near it." "Who says so?" asked Bob, with interest. "I do. Here, put on the headphones and listen. I'll prove it to you." Bob obeyed and tuned in to the nearest broadcasting station where a concert was scheduled. As soon as he signified by a nod of his head that the connection was satisfactory Herb placed the big horseshoe magnet in such a position that the poles of the magnet were on each side of the tube. Sure enough, Bob was amazed at the almost magical improvement in the sound. It was clearer, more distinct, altogether more satisfactory. He listened in for another moment then wonderingly took off the headphones while Herb grinned at him in triumph. "Well, what do you think?" asked the latter while Joe and Jimmy looked at them curiously. "Think?" repeated Bob, still wonderingly. "Why, there's only one thing to think, of course. That fool horseshoe of yours, Herb, is one wonderful improvement. I don't know how it works, but it surely is a marvel." Herb glanced at Jimmy and Joe in triumph. "What did I tell you?" he said. "Perhaps now you'll believe that my idea wasn't such a fool one after all." "But what did it do, Bob?" asked Joe, mystified. "It increased the sensitivity of that old audion tube, that's what it did," replied Bob, absently, his mind already busy with inventive thoughts. "I can't see yet just how it accomplished it, but the connection with the station was certainly clearer and more distinct than usual." "But how can a magnet increase the sensitivity of a vacuum tube?" asked Jimmy, not yet wholly convinced. "It doesn't make sense." "Well, I don't see why not," contradicted Joe slowly. "I suppose the improvement is due to the magnetic effect of the magnet upon the electrons flowing from the filament to the plate. I don't exactly see why it should be an improvement, but if it is, then there must be some reason for it." "I wish we could find the reason!" cried Bob excitedly. "If we could make some improvement upon the vacuum tube----" "Don't wake him up, he is dreaming!" cried Herb. "If you don't look out, old boy, you'll have us all millionaires." "Well, there are worse things," retorted Bob, taking the magnet from Herb's hand and placing it near the tube. "This has given us something to think about, anyway." For a while they puzzled over the mystery, trying to find some way in which the discovery might be made to serve a practical purpose--all except Herb, who retired to one corner of the "lab" to fuss with some chemicals which he fondly hoped might be used in the construction of a battery. So engrossed were the boys in the problem of the magnet and vacuum tube that they forgot all about Herb and his experiments. So what happened took them completely off their guard. There was a sudden cry from Herb, followed closely by an explosion that knocked them off their feet. For a moment they lay there, a bit dazed by the shock. Then they scrambled to their feet and looked about them. Herb, being the nearest to the explosion, had got the worst of it. His face and hands were black and he was shaking a little from the shock. He gazed at the boys sheepishly. "Wh-what happened?" asked Jimmy dazedly. "An earthquake, I guess," replied Bob, as he looked about him to see what damage had been done. Some doughnuts, which their namesake had recently fetched from the store, lay scattered upon the floor, together with some rather dilapidated-looking pieces of candy, but aside from this, nothing seemed to have been damaged seriously. Jimmy's followed Bob's gaze, and, finding his precious sweets upon the floor, began gathering them up hastily, stuffing a doughnut in his mouth to help him hurry. What mattered it to Jimmy that the floor was none too clean? "Say, what's the big idea, anyway," Joe demanded of the blackened Herb. "Trying to start a Fourth of July celebration, or something?" "I was just mixing some chemicals, and the result was a flare-up," explained Herb sulkily. "Now, stop rubbing it into a fellow, will you? You might know I didn't do it on purpose." Bob began to laugh. "Better get in connection with some soap and water, Herb," he said. "Just now you look like the lead for a minstrel show." "Never mind, Herb," Joe flung after the disconsolate scientist as he made for the door. "As long as you don't hurt anything but Jimmy's doughnuts, we don't care. You can have as many explosions as you like." "Humph, that's all right for you," retorted Jimmy. "But I'll have you know I spent my last nickel for those doughnuts." "Just the same," said Bob soberly, as they returned to the problem of the vacuum tube, "we're mighty lucky to have come off with so little damage. Mixing chemicals is a pretty dangerous business unless you know just what you're doing." "And even then it is," added Joe. CHAPTER IX A HAPPY INSPIRATION The days passed by, the boys becoming more and more engrossed in the fascination of radio all the time. They continued to work on their sets, sometimes with the most gratifying results, at others seeming to make little headway. But in spite of occasional discouragements they worked on, cheered by the knowledge that they were making steady, if sometimes slow, progress. There were so many really worth-while improvements being perfected each day that they really found it difficult to keep up with them all. "Wish we could hear Cassey's voice again," said Herb, one day when they had tuned in on several more or less interesting personal messages. "I don't know what good it would do us," grumbled Joe. "If he speaks always in code he could keep us guessing till doomsday." "He's up to some sort of mischief, anyway," said Bob; "and I, for one, would enjoy catching him at it again." "We would be more comfortable to have Dan Cassey in jail, where he belongs," observed Jimmy. But just at present the trailing of that stuttering voice seemed an impossible feat even for the radio boys. If they could only get some tangible clue to work on! They saw nothing of Buck Looker or his cronies about town, and concluded that they were still at the lumber camp. "Can't stay away too long to suit me," Bob said cheerfully. It was about that time that Bob found out about Adam McNulty. Adam McNulty was the blind father of the washerwoman who served the four families of the boys. Bob went to the McNulty cabin, buried in the most squalid district of the town, bearing a message from his mother. When he got there he found that Mr. McNulty was the only one at home. The old fellow, smoking a black pipe in the bare kitchen of the house, seemed so pathetically glad to see some one--or, rather, to hear some one--that Bob yielded to his invitation to sit down and talk to him. And, someway, even after Bob reached home, he could not shake off the memory of the lonesome old blind man with nothing to do all day long but sit in a chair smoking his pipe, waiting for some chance word from a passer-by. It did not seem fair that he, Bob, should have all the good things of life while that old man should have nothing--nothing, at all. He spoke to his chums about it, but, though they were sympathetic, they did not see anything they could do. "We can't give him back his eyesight, you know," said Joe absently, already deep in a new scheme of improvement for the set. "No," said Bob. "But we might give him something that would do nearly as well." "What do you mean?" they asked, puzzled. "Radio," said Bob, and laid his hand lovingly on the apparatus. "If it means a lot to us, just think how much more it would mean to some one who hasn't a thing to do all day but sit and think. Why, I don't suppose any of us who can see can begin to realize what it would mean not to be able even to read the daily newspaper." The others stared at Bob, and slowly his meaning sank home. "I get you," said Joe slowly. "And say, let me tell you, it's a great idea, Bob. It wouldn't be so bad to be blind if you could have the daily news read to you every day----" "And listen to the latest on crops," added Jimmy. "To say nothing of the latest jazz," finished Herb, with a grin. "Well, why doesn't this blind man get himself a set?" asked Jimmy practically. "I should think every blind person in the country would want to own one." "I suppose every one of them does," said Bob. "And Doctor Dale said the other day that he thought the time would come when charities for the blind would install radio as a matter of humanity, and that prices of individual sets would be so low that all the blind could afford them. The blind are many of them old, you know, and pretty poor." "You mean," said Herb slowly, "that most of the blind folks who really need radio more than anybody else can't afford it? Say, that doesn't seem fair, does it?" "It isn't fair!" cried Bob, adding, eagerly: "I tell you what I thought we could do. There's that old set of mine! It doesn't seem much to us now, beside our big one, but I bet that McNulty would think it was a gold mine." "Hooray for Bob!" cried Herb irrepressibly. "Once in a while he really does get a good idea in his head. When do we start installing this set in the McNulty mansion, boys?" "As soon as you like," answered Bob. "Tomorrow's Saturday, so we could start early in the morning. It will probably take us some time to rig up the antenna." The boys were enthusiastic about the idea, and they wasted no time putting it into execution. That very night they looked up the old set, examining it to make sure it was in working order. When they told their families what they proposed to do, their parents were greatly pleased. "It does my heart good," said Mr. Layton to his wife, after Bob had gone up to bed, "to see that those boys are interested in making some one besides themselves happy." "They're going to make fine men, some day," answered Mrs. Layton softly. The boys arrived at the McNulty cottage so early the next morning that they met Maggie McNulty on her way to collect the day's wash. When they told her what they were going to do she was at first too astonished to speak and then threatened to fall upon their necks in her gratitude. "Shure, if ye can bring some sunshine into my poor old father's dark life," she told them in her rich brogue, tears in her eyes, "then ye'll shure win the undyin' gratitude uv Maggie McNulty." It was a whole day's job, and the boys worked steadily, only stopping long enough to rush home for a bit of lunch. They had tried to explain what they were doing to Adam McNulty, but the old man seemed almost childishly mystified. It was with a feeling of dismay that the boys realized that, in all probability, this was the first time the blind man had ever heard the word radio. It seemed incredible to them that there could be anybody in the world who did not know about radio. However, if Adam McNulty was mystified, he was also delightedly, pitifully excited. He followed the boys out to the cluttered back yard where they were rigging up the aerial, listening eagerly to their chatter and putting in a funny word now and then that made them roar with laughter. Bob brought him an empty soap box for a seat and there the old man sat hour after hour, despite the fact that there was a chill in the air, blissfully happy in their companionship. He had been made to understand that something pleasant was being done for him, but it is doubtful if he could have asked for any greater happiness than just to sit there with somebody to talk to and crack his jokes with. They were good jokes too, full of real Irish wit, and long before the set was ready for action the boys had become fond of the old fellow. "He's a dead game sport," Joe said to Bob, in that brief interval when they had raced home for lunch. "I bet I'd be a regular old crab, blind like that." Mrs. Layton put up an appetizing lunch for the blind man, topping it off with a delicious homemade lemon pie and a thermos bottle full of steaming coffee. The way the old man ate that food was amazing even to Jimmy. Maggie was too busy earning enough to keep them alive to bother much with dainties. At any rate, Adam ate the entire lemon pie, not leaving so much as a crumb. "I thought I was pretty good on feeding," whispered Joe, in a delighted aside, "but I never could go that old bird. He's got me beat a mile." "Well," said Jimmy complacently, "I bet I'd tie with him." If the boys had wanted any reward for that day of strenuous work, they would have had it when, placing the earphones upon his white head, they watched the expression of McNulty's face change from mystification to wonder, then to beatific enjoyment. He listened motionless while the exquisite music flooded his starved old soul. Toward the end he closed his eyes and tears trickled from beneath the lids down his wrinkled face. He brushed them off impatiently and the boys noticed that his hand was trembling. It was a long, long time before he seemed to be aware that there was any one in the room with him. He seemed to have completely forgotten the boys who had bestowed this rare gift upon him. After a while, coming out of his dream, the old man began fumbling with the headphones as if he wanted to take them off, and Bob helped him. The man tried to speak, but made hard work of it. Emotion choked him. "Shure, an' I don't know what to make of it at all, at all," he said at last, in a quivering voice. "Shure an' I thought the age of miracles was passed. I'm only an ignorant old man, with no eyes at all; but you lads have given me something that's near as good. Shure an' it's an old sinner I am, for shure. Many's the day I've sat here, prayin' the Lord would give me wan more minute o' sight before I died, an' it was unanswered my prayers wuz, I thought. It's grateful I am to yez, lads. It's old Adam McNulty's blessin' ye'll always have. An' now will yez put them things in my ears? It's heaven's own angels I'd like to be hearin' agin. That's the lad--ah!" And while the beatific expression stole once more over his blind old face the boys stole silently out. CHAPTER X THE ESCAPED CONVICT The boys saw a good deal of Adam McNulty in the days that followed, and the change in the old man was nothing short of miraculous. He no longer sat in the bare kitchen rocking and smoking his pipe, dependent upon some passer-by for his sole amusement. He had radio now, and under the instruction of the boys he had become quite expert in managing the apparatus. Although he had no eyes, his fingers were extraordinarily sensitive and they soon learned to handle the set intelligently. His daughter Maggie, whose gratitude to the boys knew no bounds, looked up the radio program in the paper each day and carefully instructed her father as to just when the news reports were given out, the story reading, concerts, and so forth. And so the old blind man lived in a new world--or rather, the old world which he had ceased to live in when he became blind--and he seemed actually to grow younger day by day. For radio had become his eyes. Doctor Dale heard of this act of kindness on the part of the boys and he was warm in his praise. "Radio," he told the boys one day when he met them on the street, "is a wonderful thing for those of us that can see, but for the blind it is a miracle. You boys have done an admirable thing in your kindness to Adam McNulty, and I hope that, not only individuals, but the government itself will see the possibilities of so great a charity and follow your example." The boys glowed with pride at the doctor's praise, and then and there made the resolve that whenever they came across a blind person that person should immediately possess a radio set if it lay within their power to give it to him. On this particular day when so many things happened the boys were walking down Main Street, talking as usual of their sets and the marvelous progress of radio. Although it was still early spring, the air was as warm almost as it would be two months later. There was a smell of damp earth and pushing grass in the air, and the boys, sniffing hungrily, longed suddenly for the freedom of the open country. "Buck and his bunch have it all their own way," said Herb discontentedly. "I wouldn't mind being up in a lumber camp myself just now." "Too early for the country yet," said Jimmy philosophically. "Probably be below zero to-morrow." "What you thinking about, Bob?" asked Joe, noticing that his chum had been quiet for some time. "I was thinking," said Bob, coming out of his reverie, "of the difference there has been in generators since the early days of Marconi's spark coil. First we had the spark transmitters and then we graduated to transformers----" "And they still gave us the spark," added Joe, taking up the theme. "Then came the rotary spark gap and later the Goldsmith generator----" "And then," Jimmy continued cheerfully, "the Goldsmith generator was knocked into a cocked hat by the Alexanderson generator." "They'll have an improvement on that before long, too," prophesied Herb. "They have already," Bob took him up quickly. "Don't you remember what Doctor Dale told us of the new power vacuum tube where one tube can take care of fifty K. W.?" "Gee," breathed Herb admiringly, "I'll say that's some energy." "Those same vacuum tubes are being built right now," went on Bob enthusiastically. "They are made of quartz and are much cheaper than the alternators we're using now." "They are small too, compared to our present-day generators," added Joe. "You bet!" agreed Bob, adding, as his eyes narrowed dreamily: "All the apparatus seems to be growing smaller these days, anyway. I bet before we fellows are twenty years older, engineers will have done away altogether with large power plants and cumbersome machinery." "I read the other day," said Joe, "that before long all the apparatus needed, even for transatlantic stations, can be contained in a small room about twenty-five feet by twenty-five." "But what shall we do for power?" protested Herb. "We'll always have to have generators." "There isn't any such word as 'always' in radio," returned Bob. "I shouldn't wonder if in the next twenty or thirty years we shall be able, by means of appliances like this new power vacuum tube, to get our power from the ordinary lighting circuit." "And that would do away entirely with generators," added Joe triumphantly. "Well, I wouldn't say anything was impossible," said Herb doubtfully. "But that seems to me like a pretty large order." "It is a large order," agreed Bob, adding with conviction: "But it isn't too large for radio to fill." "Speaking of lodging all apparatus in one fair-sized room," Joe went on. "I don't see why that can't really be done in a few years. Why, they say that this new power vacuum tube which handles fifty K. W. is not any larger than a desk drawer." "I see the day of the vest-pocket radio set coming nearer and nearer, according to you fellows," announced Herb. "Pretty soon we'll be getting our apparatus so small we'll need a microscope to see it." "Laugh if you want to," said Bob. "But I bet in the next few years we're going to see greater things done in radio than have been accomplished yet." "And that's saying something!" exclaimed Joe, with a laugh. "I guess," said Jimmy thoughtfully, "that there have been more changes in a short time in radio than in any other science." "I should say so!" Herb took him up. "Look at telephone and telegraph and electric lighting systems. There have been changes in them, of course, but beside the rapid-fire changes of radio, they seem to have been standing still." "There haven't been any changes to speak of in the electric lighting systems for the last fifteen years or more," said Bob. "And the telephone has stayed just about the same, too." "There's no doubt about it," said Joe. "Radio has got 'em all beat as far as a field for experiment is concerned. Say," he added fervently, "aren't you glad you weren't born a hundred years ago?" The boys stopped in at Adam McNulty's cabin to see how the old fellow was getting along. They found him in the best of spirits and, after "listening in" with him for a while and laughing at some of his Irish jokes, they started toward home. "I wish," said Bob, "that we could have gotten a line on Dan Cassey. It seems strange that we haven't been able to pick up some real clue in all this time." For, although the boys had caught several other mysterious messages uttered in the stuttering voice of Dan Cassey, they had not been able to make head nor tail of them. The lads liked mysteries, but they liked them chiefly for the fun of solving them. And they seemed no nearer to solving this one than they had been in the beginning. "I know it's a fool idea," said Herb sheepishly. "But since we were the ones that got Cassey his jail sentence before, I kind of feel as if we were responsible for him." "It's pretty lucky for us we're not," remarked Joe. "We certainly would be up against it." On and on the boys went. Presently Joe began to whistle and all joined in until suddenly Jimmy uttered a cry and went down on his face. "Hello, what's wrong?" questioned Bob, leaping to his chum's side. "Tripped on a tree root," growled Doughnuts, rising slowly. "Gosh! what a spill I had." "Better look where you are going," suggested Herb. "I don't see why they can't chop off some of these roots, so it's better walking." "All right--you come down and do the chopping," returned Joe, lightly. "Not much! The folks that own the woods can do that." "Don't find fault, Jimmy. Remember, some of these very roots have furnished us with shinny sticks." "Well, not the one I tripped over." It was some time later that the boys noticed that they had tramped further than they had intended. They were on the very outskirts of the town, and before them the heavily-wooded region stretched invitingly. Jimmy, who, on account of his plumpness, was not as good a hiker as the other boys, was for turning back, but the other three wanted to go on. And, being three against one, Jimmy had not the shadow of a chance of getting his own way. It was cool in the shadows of the woods, and the boys were reminded that it was still early in the season. It was good to be in the woods, just the same, and they tramped on for a long way before they finally decided it was time to turn back. They were just about to turn around when voices on the path ahead of them made them hesitate. As they paused three men came into full view, and the boys stood, staring. Two of the men they had never seen before, but the other they knew well. It was the man whose voice they had been trailing all these weeks--Dan Cassey, the stutterer! CHAPTER XI DOWN THE TRAP DOOR It seemed that in the semi-darkness of the woods Cassey did not at once recognize the radio boys. He was talking excitedly to his companions in his stuttering tongue and he was almost upon the boys before he realized who they were. He stopped still, eyes and mouth wide open. Then, with a stuttered imprecation, he turned and fled. The men with him stayed not to question, but darted furtively into the woods. "Come on, fellows!" cried Bob, with a whoop of delight. "Here's where we nail Dan Cassey, sure." The boys, except poor Jimmy, were unusually fleet, and they soon overtook Cassey. Bob's hand was almost upon him when the man doubled suddenly in his tracks and darted off into the thick underbrush. Bob, with Herb and Joe close at his heels, was after him in a minute. He reached a clearing just in time to see Cassey dash into an old barn which had been hidden by the trees. The boys plunged into the barn with Jimmy pantingly bringing up the rear. In Bob's heart was a wild exultation. They had Cassey cornered. Once more they would bring this criminal to justice. "You guard the door," he called in a low tone to Joe. "See that Cassey doesn't get out that way, and Herb and I will get after him in here." The barn was so dark that they could hardly see to move around. There was a window high up in the side wall, but this was so covered with dirt and cobwebs that it was almost as though there was none. However, Cassey must be lurking in one of those dark corners, and if they moved carefully they were sure to capture him! There was a loft to the barn, but if there had been a ladder leading up to it it had long since rotted and dropped away, so that Bob was reasonably sure the man could not be up there. It was eery business, groping about in the musty darkness of the old barn for a man who would go to almost any lengths of villainy to keep from being caught. Suddenly Bob saw something move, and, with an exultant yell, jumped toward it. Once more he almost had his hand upon Cassey when--something happened. The floor of the barn seemed to open and let him through, and his chums with him. As he fell through the hole into blackness he had confused thoughts of an earthquake. Then he struck bottom with a solid thump that almost made him see stars. He heard similar thumps about him and realized that Herb and Jimmy had followed him. Whatever it was they had shot through had evidently magically closed up again, for they were in absolute darkness. "Well," came in a voice which Bob recognized as Jimmy's, "I must say, this is a nice note!" "We've been pushed off the end of the world, I guess," said Herb, with a sorry attempt at humor. "Who all's in this party anyway? Are we all here?" "I guess so," said Joe, and at the sound of his voice Bob jumped. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought you were going to guard the door." "That's what I should have done, but I played the big idiot," retorted Joe bitterly. "I couldn't resist coming after you fellows to be in on the big fight. I suppose while I was trailing you boys somebody sneaked in the door and signed our finish." "Looks like it," said Bob, feeling himself to make sure there were no bones broken. "And now, instead of delivering Cassey to justice we're prisoners ourselves. Say, I bet the old boy isn't laughing at us or anything just now." "I'm awful sorry, Bob," said Joe penitently. "I thought if I kept my eye on the door----" "Oh, it's all right," said Bob generously. "Accidents will happen and there's no use crying over spilled milk. I suppose the most sensible thing for us to do right now is to hustle around and find a way out of this place." "Maybe there isn't any," said Jimmy dolefully. "Then what'll we do?" "Stay here and let the rats eat us, I guess," said Herb cheerfully, and Jimmy groaned. "Gosh, don't talk about eating, old boy," he pleaded. "I'm just about starved this minute." "You'll probably stay starved for some little time longer," said Bob unfeelingly. He had risen cautiously to his feet, and finding that their prison was at least high enough for them to stand up in, reached his hands tentatively above his head. As, even by standing on tiptoe, his fingers encountered nothing but air, he decided that they must have dropped further than he had thought at the time. A hand reached out and took hold of him and he realized that Joe was standing beside him. "Must have been some sort of trap door opening inward, I guess," said the latter. "You didn't see anything, did you, Bob?" "No. It happened too suddenly. One minute I was reaching forward to grab hold of Cassey and the next moment I found myself flying through space." "Humph," grunted Joe. "It was lucky for Cassey that we all happened to be in a bunch," he said. "He couldn't have gotten rid of us so quickly if we'd been scattered about----" "As we should have been," added Bob. "Just the same," he added, after a minute, "I don't suppose it would have done any good if one of us had been left up there. It must have been the men who were with Cassey who sprang the trap on us; and if that's so, the fight would have been three to one." "I'd like to have tried it just the same," said Joe belligerently. "I bet Cassey would have got a black eye out of it, anyway." For some time they groped around the black hole of their prison, hoping to find some way of escape, but without success. They were beginning to get tired and discouraged, and they sat down on the floor to talk the situation over. The queer thing about this hole in the ground was that it possessed a flooring where one would have expected to find merely packed-down dirt. The flooring consisted of rough boards laid side by side, and when the boys moved upon it it sounded like the rattling of some rickety old bridge. "There's some mystery about this place," said Bob. "I bet this is a regular meeting place for Cassey and whoever his confederates may be. In case of pursuit all they would have to do would be to hide in this hole and they'd be practically safe from discovery." "I wonder," said Herb, "why Cassey didn't do that now." "Probably didn't have time," said Bob. "I was right on his heels, you know, and probably he didn't dare stop for anything." "And so they turned the trick on us," said Joe. "And it sure was a neat job." "Too neat, if we don't get out of here soon," groaned Jimmy. "I bet they've just left us here to starve!" "I wouldn't put it beyond Cassey," said Herb gloomily. "It would be just the kind of thing he'd love to do. He's got a grudge against us, anyway, for doing him out of Miss Berwick's money and landing him in jail, and this would be a fine way to get even." "Well, if that's his game, he's got another guess coming," said Bob, adding excitedly: "Say, fellows, if that was a trap door that let us down into this hole, and it must have been something of that sort, we'll probably be able to get out the same way." "But it's above our heads," protested Herb. "What difference does that make?" returned Bob impatiently. "One of us can stand on the other's back, and we can haul the last fellow out by his hands." "Simple when you say it quick," said Joe gloomily. "But I bet that trap door is bolted on the outside. You don't think Cassey's going to let us off that easy, do you?" "Well, we could see anyway," returned Bob. "Anything's better than just sitting here. Come on, let's find that trap door." This feat, in itself, was no easy one. They had wandered about in the dark so much that they had become completely confused. Since Herb was the slightest, he was hoisted up on Bob's shoulders and they began the stumbling tour of their prison. It seemed ages before Herb's glad cry announced a discovery of some sort. "I've found a handle," he said. "Steady there, Bob, till I give it a pull." CHAPTER XII GROPING IN DARKNESS Herb tugged gently and gave another yell of delight when whatever was attached to the handle yielded grudgingly to the pull. "It's the trap door, fellows!" he cried. "Move over a bit, Bob, till I pull the thing down." Bob, who, about this time, was finding Herb's weight not any too comfortable, moved over, and, in doing so, stumbled, nearly pitching himself and Herb to the floor. As it was, Herb lost his balance and leaped wildly. He landed on his feet and reached out a hand to find Bob. "Of all the tough luck," he groaned. "There I had the thing in my hand and now we've gone and lost it again." "Sorry. But stop your groaning and get busy," Bob commanded him. "I haven't moved from this spot, so if you get up on my shoulders again you ought to be able to get hold of the handle easily enough." So, hoisted and pushed by Joe and Jimmy, Herb finally regained his perch and felt for the handle. He found it, and this time pulled the door so far open that the boys could see through the opening in the barn floor. "If somebody can hold that door," panted Herb, "I think I can get through this hole. Grab hold, boy. It sure is heavy." So Joe caught the door as it swung downward and Herb scrambled through the aperture. Bob gave a grunt of relief as the weight was taken from his shoulders. "You're next, Joe," Bob was saying when Jimmy came stumbling up, carrying something that banged against Bob's legs. "I've got it," he panted. "Had an idea I might find something like it. Trust your Uncle Jimmy----" "For the love of butter, what are you raving about?" interrupted Joe, and Jimmy proudly exhibited his prize. "A soap box," he said. "And a good big one, too. If we stand on that we can reach the opening easily." "Good for you, Doughnuts," cried Bob, joyfully seizing upon the soap box. "This beats playing the human footstool all hollow. Jump up on it, Jimmy, and see how quick you can get out of here." Jimmy needed no second invitation. He scrambled up on the tall box, and by stretching up on tip toe could just manage to get his fingers over the edge of the flooring above. "Give me a boost, some one," he commanded, and Bob obligingly administered the boost. Joe was next. Bob went last, holding the trap door with his foot to keep it from closing too quickly. Once upon the floor of the barn he took his foot away and the door banged to with a snap, being balanced by a rope and weight above. "Well, there's that!" exclaimed Bob, eyeing the closed door with satisfaction. "If Cassey thought he was going to fool us long, he sure was mistaken." "Maybe he's hiding around here somewhere," suggested Herb, lowering his voice to a whisper. "No such luck," replied Bob. "I'd be willing to wager that the moment we struck bottom there, Cassey and his friends beat it away from here as fast as their legs could take them." "Don't you think we'd better look around a little bit, anyway?" suggested Joe. "It wouldn't do any harm," agreed Bob. "But first let's have a look outside. We don't want to overlook any clues." The boys thrashed around the bushes about the barn until they were satisfied no one was hiding there and then returned to the barn. They were curious to find out just how they had been shot through that trap door. They thought at first that it was perhaps worked by some sort of apparatus, but they found that this was not the case. They found by experimenting that the trap door yielded easily to their weight, and decided that it had been their combined rush upon Cassey that had done the trick. The weight of the four of them upon it had shot the door down so rapidly that they had not had time even to know what was happening to them, much less scramble to safety. Then it had shut on them. "It couldn't have worked better for them," said Herb, as they turned toward the door of the barn. "I bet they're laughing yet at the way they put things over." "Let 'em laugh," said Bob, adding fiercely: "But I bet you anything that the last laugh will be ours!" "I wonder what Cassey was doing here, anyway," said Jimmy, as they walked slowly homeward. "It was lucky, wasn't it, that we happened along when we did?" "I don't see where it's so lucky," grumbled Joe. "We're no nearer catching him now than we ever were." "Except that we know he's around this locality," put in Bob. "I guess the police will be glad to know that." "Oh! are you going to tell the police?" asked Jimmy, whose thoughts had been upon what he was going to get for dinner. "Of course," said Bob. "He's an escaped criminal, and it's up to us to tell the police all we know about him." "I only wish we knew more to tell," said Joe disconsolately. Since they had been flung through the trap door, Joe had called himself every unpleasant name he could think of for his carelessness. If he had stayed at the door where he belonged, there would have been one of them left to grapple with Dan Cassey. Probably the two men who had been with Cassey when they had surprised him had not been anywhere around. They belonged to the type of criminal that always thinks of its own safety first. Probably they had not been anywhere near the barn. And if it had been only Dan Cassey and himself, well, he, Joe, could at least have given the scoundrel a black eye--maybe captured him. He said something of this to his chums, but they laughed at him. "Stop your grouching," said Bob. "Haven't we already agreed that there's no use crying over spilled milk? And, anyway, you just watch out. We'll get Cassey yet." As soon as the boys reached town they went straight to the police station and told the story of their encounter with Cassey to the grizzled old chief, who nodded his head grimly and thanked them for the information. "I'll send some men out right away," he told them. "If there's a criminal in those woods, they're sure to get him before dark. It's too bad you lads couldn't have got him yourselves. It would sure have been a feather in your caps!" "Why doesn't he rub it in?" grumbled Joe, as they turned at last toward home and dinner. "He ought to know we feel mad enough about it." "Well," said Bob, "if the police round him up, because of our information, it will be almost as good as though we'd caught him ourselves. I wouldn't," he added, with a glint in his eye, "exactly like to be in Cassey's shoes, now." CHAPTER XIII CUNNING SCOUNDRELS But, contrary to the expectations of the radio boys, the police were not able to locate Cassey nor any of the rest of the gang. They searched the woods for miles around the old barn about which the boys had told them, even carrying their search into the neighboring townships, but without any result. It seemed as though the earth had opened and swallowed up Cassey together with his rascally companions. If such a thing had actually happened, their disappearance could not have been more complete. "They must be experts in the art of hiding," grumbled Bob, upon returning from a visit to the chief of police. "I was certain they would be rounded up before this." "Guess they must have made a break for the tall timber," said Joe. "Decided, maybe, it isn't just healthy around here," added Herb, with a grin. And then, just when they had decided that Cassey and his gang had made a masterly getaway, the radio boys got on their trail once again. That very evening, when tuning in for the concert, they caught another of those mysterious, stuttering messages in the unmistakable voice of Dan Cassey! "Rice, rats, make hay," was the substance of this message, and the boys would have laughed if they had not been so dumbfounded. "What do you know about that?" gasped Jimmy. "That old boy sure has his nerve with him." "They're still hanging around here somewhere!" cried Bob excitedly. "They've probably got a hiding place that even the police can't find." "Oh, if we could only make sense of this!" exclaimed Herb, staring at the apparently senseless message which he had written down. "If we only had their code the whole thing would be simple." "Oh, yes, if we only had a million dollars, we'd be millionaires!" retorted Jimmy scornfully. "Where do you get that stuff, anyway?" "Well," said Bob, temporarily giving up the problem, "as far as I can see, all there is for us to do is to keep our eyes and ears open and trust to luck. Now what do you say we listen in on the concert for a little while?" In the days that followed Cassey's voice came to them several times out of the ether, and always in that same cryptic form that, try as they would, they could not make out. It was exasperating, that familiar voice coming to them out of the air day after day without giving them the slightest clue to the whereabouts of the speaker. And then, while they were in town one day, they quite unexpectedly ran into their old friend, Frank Brandon, the wireless inspector, whose work for some time had taken him into another district. However, he was to stay in Clintonia for a few days on business now, and since he had nothing particular to do that day, Bob enthusiastically invited him up to his home for a visit. "Maybe you can give us some tips on our set," Bob added, as Mr. Brandon readily accepted the invitation. "We're not altogether satisfied with our batteries. For some reason or other they burn out too quickly." "Yes, I'll take a look at it," agreed Mr. Brandon good-naturedly. "Although I imagine you boys are such experts by this time I can't tell you very much. What have you been doing with yourselves since we last met?" The boys told him something of their experiences, in which he showed intense interest, and in return he told them some interesting things that had happened to him. And when he spoke of catching mysterious messages in the stuttering voice of Dan Cassey, Bob broke in upon him eagerly. "We've caught a good many such messages too," he said. "Have you managed to make anything of them?" "Not a thing," said Mr. Brandon, shaking his head. "If it is a criminal code, and I am about assured that it is, then it is a remarkably clever one and one that it is almost impossible to decipher without a key. I've just about given up trying." Then the boys told of their encounter with Cassey in the woods and their adventure in the old barn, and Frank Brandon was immensely excited. "By Jove," he said, "the man is up to his old tricks again! I'd like to get hold of him before he does any serious harm. That sort of criminal is a menace to the community. "The funny part of it," he continued, as they turned the corner into Bob's block, "is that these messages are not all in Cassey's voice. Have you noticed that?" It was the boys' turn to be surprised. "That's a new one on us," Bob confessed. "The only messages we have caught so far have been in Cassey's voice." Frank Brandon slowly shook his head. "No," he said, "I have caught a couple in a strange voice, a voice I never heard before." "The same kind of message?" asked Herb eagerly. "The same kind of message," Brandon affirmed. "I have taken it for granted that the owner of the strange voice is a confederate of Cassey's." "Maybe one of the fellows who was with him in the woods," said Jimmy, and Mr. Brandon nodded gravely. "It's possible," he said. "I don't know, of course, but I imagine that there are several in Cassey's gang." By this time they had reached Bob's home, and as it was nearly lunch time, Mrs. Layton insisted that they all stay to lunch. The boys, not liking to make her trouble, said they would go home and come back later, but the lady of the house would have none of it. "Sit down, all of you," she commanded, in her cheerful, hospitable way. "I know you're starved--all but Jimmy--" this last with a smile, "and there's plenty to eat." Frank Brandon was very entertaining all during the meal and kept them in gales of laughter. Mrs. Layton found him as amusing as did the boys. At last the lunch came to an end and Mr. Brandon professed himself ready to talk shop. He was enthusiastic over the radio set the boys showed him and declared that he could see very little improvement to suggest. "You surely have kept up with the march," he said admiringly. "You have pretty nearly all the latest appliances, haven't you? Good work, boys. Keep it up and you'll be experts in earnest." "If we could only find some way to lengthen the life of our storage batteries," said Bob, not without a pardonable touch of pride, "we wouldn't have much to complain about. But that battery does puzzle us." "Keep your battery filled with water and see if it doesn't last you about twice as long," suggested the radio expert. "Don't add any acid to your battery, for it's only the water that evaporates." "Will that really do the trick?" asked Joe, wondering. "I don't just see how----" "It does just the same," Brandon interrupted confidently. "All you have to do is to try it to find out. Don't use ordinary water though. It needs to be distilled." "That's a new one on me, all right," said Bob, adding gratefully: "But we're obliged for the information. If distilled water will lengthen the life of our battery, then distilled water it shall have." "It seems queer," said Mr. Brandon reflectively, "how apparently simple things will work immense improvement. Marconi, for instance, by merely shortening his wave length, is discovering wonderful things. We cannot even begin to calculate what marvelous things are in store for us when we begin to send out radio waves of a few centimeters, perhaps less. We have not yet explored the low wave lengths, and when we do I believe we are in for some great surprises." "Go on," said Joe, as he paused. "Tell us more about these low wave lengths." CHAPTER XIV A DARING HOLDUP Frank Brandon shook his head and smiled. "I'm afraid I don't know much more to tell," he said. "As I have said, what will happen when we materially decrease the wave length, is still in the land of conjecture. But I tell you," he added, with sudden enthusiasm, "I'm mighty glad to be living in this good old age. What we have already seen accomplished is nothing to what we are going to see. Why," he added, "some scientists, Steinmetz, for instance, are even beginning to claim that ether isn't the real medium for the propagation of radio waves." "What do you mean by that?" asked Bob, with interest. "Is it some sort of joke?" "Joke, nothing!" replied Frank Brandon. "As a matter of fact, I fully believe that electro-magnetic waves can as easily be hurled through a void as through ether." The boys were silent for a moment, thinking this over. It sounded revolutionary, but they had great respect for Frank Brandon's judgment. "There's the Rogers underground aerial," Bob suggested tentatively, and Brandon took him up quickly. "Exactly!" he said. "That leans in the direction of what I say. Why, I believe the day is coming--and it isn't so very far in the future, either--when no aerial will be used. "Why, I believe," he added, becoming more and more enthusiastic as he continued, "that ten years from now we shall simply attach our receiving outfits to the ground and shall be able to receive even more satisfactorily than we do to-day." He laughed and added lightly: "But who am I to assume the rôle of prophet? Perhaps, like a good many prophets, I see too much in the future that never will come true." "I don't believe it," said Bob. "I shouldn't wonder if all your prophesy will come true in a few years." "Well," said Herb, with a grin, "it will be a relief not to get any more broken shins putting up aerials." Mr. Brandon laughed. "I'm with you," he said. "I've been there myself." "Have you read about that radio-controlled tank?" Joe asked. "The one that was exhibited in Dayton, I mean?" "I not only read about it, I saw it," Mr. Brandon answered, and the boys stared at him in surprise. "I happened to be there on business," he said; "and you can better believe I was on hand when they rolled that tank through the traffic." "What did it look like?" asked Jimmy eagerly. "The car was about eight feet long and three feet high," responded Brandon. "It was furnished with a motor and storage batteries, and I guess its speed was about five or six miles an hour." "And was it really controlled by radio?" put in Herb, wishing that he had been on the spot. "Absolutely," returned Brandon. "An automobile followed along behind it and controlled it entirely by wireless signals. The apparatus that does all the work is called the selector, and it's only about the size of a saucer. It decodes the dots and dashes and obeys the command in an inconceivably short time--about a quarter of a second." "It can be controlled by an airplane, too, can't it?" asked Bob, and the radio inspector nodded. "In case of war," he said slowly, "I imagine these airplane-controlled tanks could do considerable damage." Their guest left soon after that, and, of course, the boys were sorry to have him go. His last words to them were about Cassey. "Keep your eyes open for that scoundrel," he said, "and we'll find out what he's up to yet." But in the next few days so many alarming things happened that the boys had little time to think about Dan Cassey. The alarming happenings consisted of a series of automobile robberies in neighboring towns, robberies committed so skillfully that no hint nor clue was given of the identity of the robbers. And then the robberies came nearer home, even into Clintonia itself. The president of one of the banks left his machine outside the bank for half an hour, and when he came out again it was gone. No one could remember seeing any suspicious characters around. Then Raymond Johnston, a prominent business man of the town, had his car taken in the same mysterious manner from in front of his home. As before, no one could give the slightest clue as to the identity of the thieves. The entire community was aroused and the police were active, and yet the mystery remained as dark as ever. Then, one day, Herb came dashing over to Bob's home in a state of wild excitement. Joe and Jimmy were already there, and Herb stopped not even for a greeting before he sprang his news. "Say, fellows!" he cried, sprawling in a chair and panting after his run, "it's time somebody caught those auto thieves. They are getting a little too personal." "What's up?" they demanded. "One of dad's trucks has been held up!" gasped Herb. "In broad daylight, too!" "Was anything taken?" asked Joe. "Anything? Well, I should say! They looted the truck of everything. It's a wonder they didn't steal the machinery." "That's a pretty big loss for your dad, isn't it?" said Bob gravely. "It is!" replied Herb, running his fingers through his hair. "He's all cut up about it and vows he'll catch the ruffians. Though he'll have to be a pretty clever man if he does, I'll say." "They do seem to be pretty slick," agreed Bob. "I wonder if the same gang is responsible for all the robberies," put in Joe. "It looks that way," said Jimmy. "It looks as if there were a crook at the head of the bunch who has pretty good brains." "A regular master criminal, Doughnuts?" gibed Herb, then sobered again as he thought of his father's loss. "It's bad enough," he said gloomily, "to hear of other people's property being stolen, but when it comes right down to your own family, it's getting a little too close for comfort." "What is your dad going to do about it?" asked Bob. Herb shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture. "What can he do?" he asked. "Except what everybody else has done--inform the police and hope the rascals will be caught. And even if they are caught," he added, still more gloomily, "it won't do dad much good, except that he'll get revenge. The crooks will probably have disposed of all their stolen property before they're caught." "Well, I don't know," said Bob hopefully. "Those fellows are getting a little bit too daring for their own good. Some day they'll go too far and get caught." "I hope so. But crooks like that are pretty foxy," returned Herb, refusing to be cheered. "They're apt to get away with murder before they're caught." The lads were silent for a moment, trying to think things out, and when Bob spoke he unconsciously put into words something of what his comrades were thinking. "It seems as if radio ought to be able to help out in a case like this," he said, with a puzzled frown. "But I must say I don't see how it can." "It can't," returned Herb. "If some one had been lucky enough to get a glimpse of one of the thieves, then good old radio would have its chance. We could wireless the description all over the country and before long somebody would make a capture." Bob nodded. "That's where the cunning of these rascals comes in," he said. "Either nobody sees them at all, or when they do the thieves are so well disguised by masks that a useful description isn't possible." "Were the fellows who held up your father's truck masked?" asked Jimmy with interest. Herb nodded. "From all I can hear," he said. "It was a regular highway robbery affair--masks, guns, and all complete. The driver of the truck said there were only two of them, but since they had guns and he was unarmed, there wasn't anything he could do. "They made him get down off the truck, and then they bound his hands behind him and hid him behind some bushes that bordered the road. He would probably be there yet if he hadn't managed to get the gag out of his mouth and hail some people passing in an automobile. Poor fellow!" he added. "Any one might have thought he had robbed the truck from the way he looked. He was afraid to face dad." "Well, it wasn't his fault," said Joe. "No man without a weapon is a match for two armed rascals." "Didn't he say what the robbers looked like?" insisted Jimmy. "He must have known whether they were short or tall or fat or skinny." "He said they were about medium height, both of them," returned Herb. "He said they were both about the same build--rather thin, if anything. But their faces were so well covered--the upper part by a mask and the lower by bandana handkerchiefs--that he couldn't give any description of them at all." "I bet," Bob spoke up suddenly, "that whoever is at the head of that rascally gang knows the danger of radio to him and his plans. That's why his men are so careful to escape recognition." The boys stared at him for a minute and then suddenly the full force of what he intimated struck them. At the same instant the name of the same man came into their minds--the name of a man who used radio for the exchange of criminal codes, a man who stuttered painfully. "Cassey!" they said together, and Herb added, thoughtfully: "I wonder!" CHAPTER XV OFF TO THE WOODS For days the town hummed with the excitement that followed the daring robbery of the truck belonging to Mr. Fennington, but as time passed and there seemed little prospect of bringing the robbers to justice, interest died down. But the radio boys never abated their resolve to do all in their power to recover the stolen merchandise, although at that time they were kept so busy in high school, preparing for a stiff examination, that they had little time for anything else. "It's getting so bad lately that I don't even get time to enjoy my meals," grumbled Jimmy, one sunny spring afternoon. "Swinging an oar a la Ben Hur would be just a little restful exercise after the way we've been drilling the last week." "Get out!" exclaimed Joe. "Why, you wouldn't last two hours in one of those galleys, Doughnuts. They'd heave you over the side as excess baggage once they got wise to you." "After two hours of rowing in one of those old galleys, he'd be glad to get heaved overboard, I'll bet," put in Herb, grinning. "I think Jimmy would rather drown any day than work that hard." "Huh! I don't see where you fellows get off to criticize," retorted the harassed youth. "I never saw any of you win gold medals for hard and earnest work." "Lots of people deserve medals who never get them," Bob pointed out. "Yes. But, likewise, lots of people don't deserve 'em who don't get 'em," retorted Jimmy, and for once appeared to have won an argument. "I guess you're right at that," conceded Bob. "But, anyway, I'm going to pass those examinations no matter how hard I have to work. It will pretty near break my heart, but it can't be helped." The others were equally determined, and they dug into the mysteries of Horace and Euclid to such good effect that they all passed the examinations with flying colors. After that came a breathing space, and just at that time a golden opportunity presented itself. Mr. Fennington, Herbert's father, had become interested, together with several other business men of Clintonia, in a timber deal comprising many acres of almost virgin forest in the northern part of the state. He was going to look over the ground personally, and when Herb learned of this, he urged his father to take him and the other radio boys along for a brief outing over the Easter holiday. When his father seemed extremely dubious over this plan, Herb reminded him that Mr. Layton had taken them all to Mountain Pass the previous autumn, and that it would be only fair to reciprocate. "But the Lookers are up in that part of the country, too," said Mr. Fennington. "Aren't you fellows scared to go where Buck Looker is?" he added, with a smile lurking about his mouth. "Oh, yes, we're terribly afraid of that!" answered Herb sarcastically. "We'll take our chances, though, if you'll only let us go with you." "Well, well, I'll see," said his father, and Herb knew that this was practically equivalent to surrender. Accordingly he hunted up his chums and broached the project to them. "Herb, your words are as welcome as the flowers in May," Bob told him, with a hearty slap on the back. "If this trip actually works out, we'll forgive you all last winter's jokes, won't we, fellows?" "It's an awful lot to ask of a fellow, but I suppose we can manage it," said Joe, and Jimmy, after pretending to think the matter over very seriously, finally said the same. They were all overjoyed at the prospect of such a trip, and had little difficulty in getting the consent of their parents. Mr. Fennington eventually consented to take the radio boys with him, and there ensued several days of bustle and excited packing. At length all was ready, and they found themselves, one bright spring morning, installed in a big seven-passenger touring car _en route_ for Braxton Woods, as the strip of timberland was called. "This is the life!" chortled Jimmy, as the miles rolled away behind. "Fresh air, bright sun, the song of birds, and--doughnuts!" and he produced a bulging paper bag full of his favorite dainty. "How do you get that way?" asked Joe severely, although he eyed the bag hungrily. "The 'song of doughnuts!' You're the only Doughnut that I ever heard of that could sing, and you're no great shakes at it." "Oh, you know what I meant!" exclaimed Jimmy. "At least, you're thicker than usual if you don't." "Do you hear that, Joe?" laughed Bob. "The boy's telling you that you're thick. Are you going to stand for that?" "He knows it's true. And, anyway, he doesn't dare talk back for fear I won't give him one of these delicious little morsels," said Jimmy placidly. "How about it, Joe?" "That's taking mean advantage of a poor fellow who's practically dying of starvation," said Joe. "Give me a doughnut, and I won't talk back--until after I've eaten it, anyway." "That's all right then," said his plump friend. "After you've eaten one, you'll feel so grateful to me that you'll regret all the low-down things you've ever said about me." "Oh, you're the finest pal any fellow ever had," declared Joe. "How many doughnuts have you left, Jimmy?" "Something tells me that you don't mean all you say," said Jimmy suspiciously. "Just the same, I'll take a chance and give you another one. They won't last long at the rate they're going; I can tell that without half trying." "Well, a short life but a merry one," said Bob. "Come across with another, Jimmy, will you?" "You know I love you too much to refuse you anything, Bob," said Jimmy. "Just the same, I'm going to hold out another for myself, and then you big panhandlers can finish them up. I've just had four, but I suppose those will have to last me for the present." "Say, that's tough--only four!" exclaimed Herb, in mock sympathy. "What will you ever do until lunch time, I wonder?" "I'm wondering the same thing myself; but I'm used to suffering whenever I'm with you fellows, so I suppose I'll have to grin and bear it somehow." "I don't see why you didn't bring some more, while you were about it," complained Bob. "You might have known that wouldn't be half enough." "It will be a long time before I buy any more for you Indians, you can bet your last dollar on that," said Jimmy, in an aggrieved voice. "You've been going to school a number of years, now, but you still don't know what 'gratitude' means." "The only one that should be grateful is yourself, Doughnuts," Joe assured him. "You know if you had eaten that whole bag full of doughnuts that you'd have been heading a funeral to-morrow or next day. It's lucky you have us around to save you from yourself." While Jimmy was still framing an indignant reply to this there was a loud report, and the driver quickly brought the big car to a halt. "Blowout," he remarked laconically, walking around to view a shoe that was flat beyond the possibility of doubt. It was not an unmixed evil to the boys, however, for they welcomed the chance to get out and stretch their cramped muscles. They helped the driver jack up the wheel and change shoes, and in a short time they were ready to proceed. Back they climbed into their places, and with a rasp of changing gears they were on their way once more. Braxton Woods lay something over a hundred miles from Clintonia, but the roads were good most of the way, and they had planned to reach their destination that evening. When they had covered sixty miles of the distance, Mr. Fennington consented to stop for the lunch for which the boys had been clamoring for some time. They took their time over the meal, building a fire and cooking steak and frying potatoes. "Gee, this was a feast fit for a king!" exclaimed Jimmy, when it was over. The boys lay down on the newly sprouted grass, but had hardly got settled when the driver, who appeared restless, summoned them to proceed. "We've got a long way to go yet," he said, "and the last fifteen miles are worse than all the rest of the trip put together. The road is mostly clay and rocks, and at this time of year it's apt to be pretty wet. I don't want to have to drive it after dark." Mr. Fennington was also anxious to get on, so their rest was a brief one, and they were soon on their way again. The radio boys laughed and sang, cracked jokes, and waved to passing cars, while the mileage record on the speedometer mounted steadily up. The sun was still quite a way above the western horizon when they reached the place where the forest road branched off from the main highway. The driver tackled this road cautiously, and they soon found that his description of it had not been overdrawn. It was a narrow trail, in most places not wide enough for two cars to pass, and they wondered what would happen should they meet another car going in the opposite direction. But in the whole fifteen miles they met only one other motor, and fortunately that was at a wide place in the road. The scent of spring and growing things was strong in the air, and compensated somewhat for the atrocious road. The boys were often tossed high in the air as the car bumped over logs and stones, or came up with a lurch out of some deep hole. But they hung on to each other, or whatever else was most convenient, and little minded the rough going. After one particularly vicious lunge, however, the heavy car came down with a slam, and there was a sharp noise of snapping steel. With a muttered exclamation the driver brought his car to a halt and climbed out. "Just as I thought!" he exclaimed. "A spring busted, and the nearest garage twenty miles away. Now we're up against it for fair!" "Do you mean that we can't go on?" asked Mr. Fennington anxiously. "It will be dark in another hour." "I know it will," replied the chauffeur. "But what can we do about it?" "Can't we make a temporary repair?" suggested Bob. "We can't have much further to go now." "Well, I'm open to suggestions, young fellow," growled the driver. "If you can tell me how to fix this boiler up, go to it. It's more than I can do." Bob and the others made a thorough examination of the damage, and they were not long in concocting a plan. Bob had brought with him a small but very keen-edged ax, and it was the work of only a few minutes to cut a stout limb about six inches in diameter from a tree. With this, and a coil of heavy rope that was carried in the car for emergencies, they proceeded to make the temporary repair. CHAPTER XVI PUT TO THE TEST First of all the boys trimmed the branch to a length slightly greater than the distance between axle and axle of the car. Then, near each end, they cut a notch about two inches deep, one to fit over the front and one over the rear axle. Next they placed the branch in position, and with the heavy rope lashed it securely into position. Thus the front and rear axles were kept at the proper distance from each other, and, moreover, the side of the car that was over the broken spring could rest on the stout pole. The driver, who at first had watched their efforts with a derisive grin, took their plan more seriously as he realized the scheme, and now he examined the completed job with an air of surprised respect. "I've got to admit that that looks as though it might do the trick," he admitted, at length. "I've seen a lot of roadside repairs in my time, but blest if that hasn't got 'em all beat. I'll take it at slow speed the rest of the way, and we'll see if it will stand up long enough to get us in." And get them in it did, in spite of much creaking and groaning and bumping. The automobile drew up before a long one-story building, constructed roughly but substantially of unpainted boards. Supper was being served, and they were just in time to partake of a typical lumber camp meal. The big table was laden with huge joints of meat, platters of biscuits and vegetables, while strong, black coffee was served in abundance. After this plates of doughnuts were passed around, greatly to Jimmy's delight, and for once he could eat all he wanted with nobody to criticize, for the lumbermen were no tyros at this sort of thing, and packed away food in quantities and at a speed that made the boys gape. "Gee!" exclaimed Bob, after they had emerged into the balmy spring air outside, "I used to think that Jimmy could eat; but he can't even make the qualifying heats with this crowd. You're outclassed, Doughnuts, beyond the chance of argument." "I don't see but what I'll have to admit it," sighed his rotund friend. "But I don't care. It seems like Heaven to be in a place where they serve doughnuts like that. There's none of this 'do-have-a-doughnut' business. Some big husky passes you a platter with about a hundred on it and says, 'dig in, young feller.' Those are what I call sweet sounding words." "And you dug, all right," remarked Joe, grinning. "I saw you clean one platter off all by your lonesome--at least, you came pretty near it," he qualified, with some last lingering regard for the truth. "I didn't anything of the kind! But I only wish I could," lamented Jimmy. "Never mind, Doughnuts, nobody can deny that you did your best," laughed Herb. "After you've had a little practice with this crowd, I'll back you against their champion eater any day." "So would I," said Bob. "We've often talked about entering Jimmy in a pie-eating contest, but I never before thought we could find anybody who would even stand a chance with him. Up here, though, there's some likely-looking material. Judging from some of those huskies we saw to-night, they might crowd our champion pretty hard." "You can enter me any time you want to," said Jimmy. "Even if I didn't win, I'd have a lot of fun trying. I never really got enough pie at one time yet, and that would be the chance of a lifetime." At first the boys were more than half joking, but after they had been at the camp a few days and had begun to get acquainted, they let drop hints regarding Jimmy's prowess that aroused the interest of the lumbermen. He was covertly watched at meal times, and as the bracing woodland air and long hikes combined to give an added edge to his appetite, his ability began to command attention. There were several among the woodsmen who had a reputation for large capacity, but it was soon evident that Jimmy was not to be easily outdistanced in his own particular department. At length interest became so keen that it was decided to stage a real old-fashioned pie-eating contest, to determine whether the champions of the camp were to be outdistanced by a visitor from the city. The cook was approached, and agreed to make all the pies that, in all human probability, would be needed. "Jimmy, you're in for it now!" exclaimed Herb, dancing ecstatically about his plump friend. "Here's your chance to make good on all the claims we've ever advanced for you. You're up against a strong field, but my confidence in you is unshaken." "It simply isn't possible that our own Jimmy could lose," grinned Bob. "I've seen him wade into pies before this, and I know what he can do." "I appreciate your confidence, believe me," said Jimmy. "But I don't care much whether I win or not. I know I'll get enough pie for once in my life, and that's the main thing." The time for the contest was set for the following evening, the third of their stay. Five lumbermen had been put forward to uphold the reputation of the camp, and they and Jimmy ate no supper that night, waiting until the others had finished. Then the board was cleared, and the cook and his helper entered, bringing in several dozen big pies of all varieties. One of these was placed before each of the contestants, and they could help themselves to as many more as their capacity would admit. The cook, as having the best knowledge of matters culinary, was appointed judge, and was provided with a pad and pencil to check up each contestant. A time limit of two hours was set, the one having consumed the greatest amount of pie in that time to be declared the winner. The cook gave the signal to start, and the contest was on. The lumbermen started off at high speed, and at first wrought tremendous havoc among the pies, while Jimmy ate in his usual calm and placid manner, evidently enjoying himself immensely. Each of the lumbermen had his following, who cheered him on and urged him to fresh endeavors. Bob and Joe and Herb said little, for they had observed Jimmy's prowess over a period of several years, and knew his staying qualities. At the end of the first half hour their friend was badly outdistanced, but the other contestants had slowed up noticeably, while Jimmy still ate calmly on, no faster and no slower than when he had started. He was only starting on his second pie when all the others were finishing theirs, but the confidence of his three comrades remained unshaken. They observed that the lumbermen chose their third pies very carefully, and started to eat them in a languid way. They were only about half through when Jimmy disposed of his second one, and started on a third. "How do you feel, Jimmy?" asked Herb, with a grin. "Are you still hungry?" "No, not exactly hungry, but it still tastes good," replied Jimmy calmly. "You sure can make good pies, Cook." The other contestants essayed feeble grins, but it was easy to see that their pies no longer tasted good to them. More and more slowly they ate, while Jimmy kept placidly on, his original gait hardly slackened. He finished the third pie and started nonchalantly on a fourth. At sight of this, and his confident bearing, two of the other contestants threw up their hands and admitted themselves beaten. "I used to like pie," groaned one, "but now I hope never to see one again. That youngster must be made of rubber." "I've often said the same thing myself," chortled Bob. "Just look at him! I believe he's good for a couple more yet." Excitement ran high when two of the remaining lumbermen were forced out toward the middle of their fourth pie, leaving only Jimmy and a jolly man of large girth, who before the start had been picked by his companions as the undoubted winner. "Go to it, Jack!" the lumbermen shouted now. "Don't let the youngster beat you out. He's pretty near his limit now." It was true that flaky pie crust and luscious filling had lost their charm for Jimmy, but his opponent was in even worse plight. He managed to finish his fourth pie, but when the cook handed him a fifth, the task proved to be beyond him. "I've reached my limit, fellers," he declared. "If the youngster can go pie number five, he'll be champion of the camp." Excitement ran high as Jimmy slowly finished the last crumbs of his fourth pie, and the cook handed him a fifth. Would he take it, or would the contest prove to be a draw? CHAPTER XVII THE BULLY GETS A DUCKING "Our man doesn't have to eat another whole pie," protested Bob. "If he just eats some of it he'll win, Mr. Judge." "That's right," nodded the cook. "How about you, young feller? Are you able to tackle it?" "Sure thing," responded Jimmy. "Hand it over." He forced himself to cut and eat a small piece, and when he had finished, pandemonium broke loose. The judge declared him undisputed champion of the camp, and he was caught up and elevated to broad shoulders while an impromptu triumphal procession was organized that circled the camp with much laughter and many jokes at the expense of the defeated aspirants for the title. After this was over, the boys held a little private jubilation of their own in the little cabin where they were quartered with Mr. Fennington. He had been away during the contest, but he returned shortly afterward, and laughingly congratulated Jimmy on his newly won honors. "How do you feel?" he inquired. "Do you think you could manage another piece of pie? I'll see that you have a large piece if you think you can." "No, sir! I've had enough pie to last me for a good while to come," declared Jimmy positively. "I'll be ashamed to look a pie in the face. For the next week or so I'll have to stick to my favorite doughnuts for dessert." "Well, you did nobly, Doughnuts, and I love you more than ever," declared Bob. "You were up against a field that anybody might be proud to beat." "And the best part of it, to me, is the feeling that our confidence in Jimmy's eating powers was justified," declared Joe. "After all the wonderful exhibitions he's given in the past, it would have been terrible if he hadn't come up to scratch to-night." "The way that fellow they call Jack started off, I never thought you had a chance, Jimmy," confessed Herb. "If he could have held that pace, I wouldn't have had a look-in," admitted Jimmy. "I figured he'd have to slow down pretty soon, though. 'Slow but sure' is my motto." "How would you like to take a nice three-mile sprint now?" asked Herb mischievously. "Three mile nothing!" exclaimed Jimmy scornfully. "I couldn't run three yards right now. I think I'll lie down and give my digestion a chance," and in a few minutes he was peacefully snoring. The next morning he showed no ill effects from the prodigious feast, but ate his usual hearty breakfast. The others were forced to the conclusion that his table ability was even greater than they had suspected, and from that time on they firmly believed him to be invincible in his particular department. By this time they were thoroughly familiar with the camp, and decided to make an excursion into the woods the following day, taking lunch with them and making it a day's outing. The cook so far departed from his usual iron-clad rules as to make them up a fine lunch, making due allowance for Jimmy's proven capacity. They started out immediately after breakfast. Not being particular as to direction, they followed the first old logging road that they came to. It led them deeper and deeper into the forest that was alive with the sounds and scents of spring. Last year's fallen leaves made a springy carpet underfoot, while robins sang their spring song in the budding branches overhead. For some time the boys tramped in silence, breathing deeply of the exhilarating pine and balsam atmosphere and at peace with all the world. Soon there was a glint of water through the trees, and the boys, with one accord, diverged from the faint trail that they had been following and were a few minutes later standing at the water's edge. They found themselves on the shore of a large lake. It was ringed about with big trees, many of which leaned far out over it as though to gaze at their reflections in the water. The ripples lapped gently on a sloping sandy beach, and the invitation to swim proved irresistible to all but Jimmy. "I know what lake water is like at this time of year," he said. "You fellows can go in and freeze yourselves all you like, but I'll stay right here and look after the things. Just dive right in and enjoy yourselves." "Well, we won't coax you," said Bob. "But that water looks too good to miss. It is pretty cold, but I guess that won't kill us." Off came their clothes, and with shouts and laughter they splashed through the shallow water and struck out manfully. The icy water made them gasp at first, but soon the reaction came, and they thoroughly enjoyed their swim. They tried to coax Jimmy in, but he lay flat on his back under a tree and was adamant to all their pleadings. The others did not stay in very long, but emerged glowing from the effects of exercise and the cold water. As they were getting into their clothes they heard voices coming toward them, and they had hardly finished dressing when the voices' owners came crashing through the underbrush close to where the boys were standing. The two groups stared in astonishment for a few moments, for the newcomers were none other than Carl Lutz, Buck Looker, Terry Mooney, and another older fellow, who was a stranger to the radio boys. Buck's expression of surprise quickly gave place to an ugly sneer, and he turned to his friends. "Look who's here!" he cried, in a nasty tone. "I wonder what they're up to now, Carl?" "We're not hiding from the cops because we broke a plate glass window and were afraid to own up to it," Bob told him. "Who broke a window?" demanded Buck. "You can't prove that it wasn't a snowball that one of your own bunch threw that broke that window." "We don't throw that kind of snowballs," said Joe. "What do you mean by that?" asked Buck. "Are you trying to say that we put stones in our snowballs?" "I don't have to say it," retorted Joe. "You just said it yourself." Too late Buck realized his mistake, and his coarse red face grew purple as Herb and Jimmy grinned at him in maddening fashion. "Don't you laugh at me, Jimmy Plummer!" he exclaimed, picking on Jimmy as being the least warlike of the radio boys. "I'll make you laugh out of the other side of your mouth in a minute," and he started to dash past Bob to reach his victim. But to do so he had to pass between Bob and the bank of the lake, which just at this point was a foot or so above the water. As he rushed past, Bob adroitly shot out a muscular arm and his elbow caught the bully fair in the side. Buck staggered, made a wild effort to regain his balance, and with a prodigious splash disappeared in the icy waters of the lake. For a few seconds friend and enemy gazed anxiously at the spot where he had gone under, but he soon came to the surface, and, sputtering and fuming, struck out for the shore and dragged himself out on to dry land. He made such a ludicrous figure that even his cronies could not forbear laughing, but he turned on them furiously and their laughter suddenly ceased. Then he turned to Bob. "If I didn't have these wet clothes on, I'd make you pay for that right now, Bob Layton," he sputtered. "I'll make you sorry for that before you're much older." "Why not settle it right now?" offered Bob. "Your clothes will dry soon enough, don't worry about that." "Yes, I know you'd like nothing better than to see me get pneumonia," said Buck. "You wait here till I go home and get dry clothes on, and I'll come and give you the licking that you deserve." "That's only a bluff, and you know it," said Bob contemptuously. "But if any of your friends would like to take your place, why, here I am. How about you, Lutz?" But Carl muttered something unintelligible, and backed away. The others likewise seemed discouraged by the mischance to their leader, for they turned and followed his retreating form without another word. "Some sports!" commented Joe. "Game as a mouse," supplemented Herb. "That was a swell ducking you gave Buck," chuckled Jimmy. "Just when he was going to pick on me, too. I owe you something for that, Bob." "Pay me when you get rich and famous," laughed his friend. "You don't owe me anything, anyway. It was a pleasure to shove Buck into the lake. I'm perfectly willing to do it again any time I get the chance." "Oh, it's my turn next time," said Joe. "I can't let you hog all the fun, Bob." "All right," replied his friend. "If we run into him again, I'll leave him to your tender mercies. But I don't imagine he or his friends will bother us any more to-day, so why not have lunch?" "I was thinking the same thing," remarked Jimmy, and they forthwith set to work to prepare what Jimmy termed a "bang-up lunch." CHAPTER XVIII A STARTLING DISCOVERY The cook had supplied the radio boys with a lavish hand, but their long walk and the swim had given them ravenous appetites, and by the time they finished there was little left of the lunch. Even this little was soon disposed of by the bright-eyed birds that ventured close in pursuit of the tempting bits. By sitting as still as statues the boys succeeded in enticing the little fellows almost within arm's length, and derived no little amusement at the evident struggle between greed and caution. But soon the last crumb was gone, and after a short rest the lads began to think of returning to camp. They did not want to go back by the same road over which they had come, however, so decided to follow the shores of the lake until they should find some other path. This was, of course, a roundabout way of getting home, but they had the better part of the afternoon before them, and were in no particular hurry. "Come on over to the north," suggested Joe. "I think there is another trail in that direction." "Yes, and I imagine the walking is better," put in Herb. "Say, you don't want to go too far out of the way," came hastily from Jimmy. "We've got to walk back remember." "Forward it is!" cried Bob. "Come on, Jimmy, you've got to walk off that big lunch you stowed away." "Gee, if I walk too far I'll be hungry again before I get home," sighed the stout youth. "Wow! hear Jimmy complain," burst out Joe. "He hardly has one meal down than he's thinking of another." To find another trail was not as simple a matter as it had seemed, and they must have traveled over two miles before Bob's keen eyes detected a slight break in the dry underbrush that might denote a path such as they sought. They found a dim trail leading in the general direction in which they wished to go, and set out at a brisk pace, even Jimmy being willing to hurry as visions of the loaded supper table floated before him. Gradually the path widened out, as others ran into it, until it became a fairly well-defined woods road. It was thickly strewn with last year's soft and rotting leaves, and the boys made little sound in spite of the rapidity of their pace. Bob and Joe and Herb were striding along in a group, Jimmy having dropped behind while he fixed a refractory shoe lace, when suddenly Bob halted abruptly and held up a warning hand. The others, scenting something amiss, stopped likewise, looking inquiringly at Bob. Silently he pointed to a spot slightly ahead of them and several paces off the road. Even as the others gazed wonderingly, Bob beckoned them to follow and slipped silently into the brush that lined the road. On the other side stood a big tree, its trunk and branches sharply outlined against the clear sky. At the base of this tree, with his back toward them, stood a man. Now, the surprising part of it all, and that which had caused the boys to proceed so cautiously, was the fact that the man wore headphones and was evidently receiving a message of some kind. Fastened to the tree was a box, which evidently contained telephonic apparatus. At first the boys thought he must be listening at an ordinary telephone, but the fact that he had no transmitter indicated that he was listening in on a radio receiving set. The boys had hardly reached their place of concealment when the man turned sharply about, darting furtive glances here and there, evidently in search of possible intruders. The boys crouched lower behind the bushes and prayed fervently that Jimmy would not arrive before the man had gone. The fellow was of fair size, with a deeply tanned face, and wore a moustache. Fortunately, after they had been watching him a few minutes, he removed the earphones, placed them in the box, and, after locking it, started into the woods, following a dimly marked footpath. It was well that he left when he did, for not two minutes later Jimmy came puffing along, looking anxiously for the others. He stopped in amazement when he saw his friends emerge from the bushes, and was about to raise his voice in vehement questionings when Bob leaped at him and clapped a hand over his mouth. "Be quiet!" he hissed into his ear. "There's some funny work going on here, and we want to find out what it is." Thus admonished, Jimmy was released, and in low tones the others told him of what they had seen and showed him the box fastened to the tree. While they were about it, they made a hasty search for the antenna, and found it strung close to the trunk of the tree, extending from the top almost to the roots. After this discovery they hurried after the man with the moustache, fearful lest they should lose his trail. It was no easy matter to follow the dimly marked path, for it passed at times over stony ground and big boulders, where often it took much searching here and there before they picked up its continuation. "We may be taking all this trouble for nothing," said Bob, after one of these searches. "Maybe he's just a lumberman receiving instruction by wireless from his employers. Big business firms are using radio more and more for such purposes." "I didn't like the way he kept looking about him, as though he had something to conceal," objected Joe. "It can't do any harm to see where he goes, anyway. We may find out something important." "His hands weren't those of a lumberman," observed Herb. "Those hands never saw rough work nor, judging from the man's face and manner, honest work. Come on, fellows." Accordingly the boys followed the difficult trail with untiring patience, and at last their perseverance was rewarded. The path widened out into a little clearing, and at the further side of this was a rough log cabin. The little shack had two small windows, and with infinite caution the boys approached until they could see into the nearest one. The interior was rudely furnished with a heavy table and two crudely fashioned chairs, while in the corner furthest from them two bunks had been built, one above the other. In another corner was a compact radio transmitting set. At the table was seated the man with the moustache, intently studying a notebook propped up before him. From this he made notes on a sheet of paper, scowling at times like one engaged in a difficult task. At length he shoved back his chair, rose to his feet, and, striding across the little shack, carefully placed the notebook under a board on a shelf. Luckily he was so absorbed in what he was doing that he did not even glance toward the window where the radio boys were observing his every motion. But Bob now judged that they had seen enough, and he wished to run no unnecessary risk of detection. At a signal from him they made for the underbrush at the edge of the clearing, where they could command a view of the door, and waited to see if the mysterious stranger would emerge. In a few minutes the door opened and the man stepped out, stopping to fasten it securely behind him. Then, with a quick glance about the little clearing, he made for the path leading to the main road and in a short time the sound of his going died away. The boys waited a few minutes, thinking that possibly he might return for something forgotten, but no further sound came from the path. At length they ventured to approach the deserted cabin. The door had been fastened with a heavy padlock, but this was not sufficient to deter the radio boys. Searching through their pockets for some implement with which they could undo the lock, Jimmy discovered a stout fish-hook, and after they had ground off the barbs against a flat stone this made an ideal tool. With it Bob probed about in the interior of the padlock, and at length, with a sharp click, it sprung open. Ordinarily he would not have done this, but he had every reason to believe that he was dealing with a criminal and that he was justified in the interest of law and order in taking steps that would prevent any further depredations against society. "More ways than one of killing a cat," remarked Bob, as he pushed open the heavy door and entered the cabin. "We've got to know what's in that notebook before we leave this place. Let's have a look." The boys quickly brought the book from its place of concealment and carried it to the table, where they bent eagerly over it as Bob turned the pages. "It doesn't look like sense to me," complained Jimmy. "I never saw such a lot of fool words jumbled together." "Yes, but something tells me there's method in this madness," said Bob, his brows knit as he concentrated on the problem before him. "Say, fellows!" he exclaimed, as sudden excitement gripped him, "do you remember those nights we were listening to our big set and we heard the mysterious messages? They were just a lot of words, and we couldn't make anything out of them at the time." "You bet I remember!" exclaimed Joe. "I think I could even tell you most of the words. Why, there's some of them in that book, right now!" "Exactly," replied Bob, nodding. "I remember them, too, and this must be the key to the code. My stars, what luck! Let's see how close we can recall the words we caught, and then we'll see if we can make sense of them with the help of this key." "I'll tell you the words as I remember them, and you check me up," suggested Joe, and this they accordingly did. Between them they managed to get it straight, just as they had heard it, "Corn-hay-six-paint-water-slow-sick-jelly." "I think that's right," said Bob. "Anyway, we'll see if it comes right with the key. You read the words, Joe, and I'll find them in this notebook and you can write them down. Shoot the first one." "Corn," said Joe. Bob hunted rapidly down the columns of code words and their equivalents, and soon found the one he was after. "Motor truck," he read out. "That sounds promising!" exclaimed Joe. "The next word I've got is 'hay.' What's the answer to that?" "Silk," said Bob, after a shorter search this time. "Six," read Joe. "Castleton Road!" exclaimed Bob, his voice shaking with excitement as he traced down the columns of words. Herb and Jimmy were also excited; especially the former, as he realized better than the others how serious a loss the theft of his father's truckload of silk had been and now thought he saw some clue in this message that might throw light on the whereabouts of the stolen goods. CHAPTER XIX THE ROBBERS' CODE "The next word is 'paint,'" said Joe. "What does that stand for, Bob?" "Just a minute, till I find it," replied his friend, and after turning over several pages found the word he sought. "It means 'to-night,'" he said. "Read what we've got so far." "Motor truck--silk--Castleton Road--to-night," read Joe. "That's clear enough so far. The next code word is water." "'No guards,'" said Bob. And so they went, until the completed message read as follows: "Motor truck--silk--Castleton Road--to-night--no guards--hold up--take everything to usual place--notify when job is done." "That's the message that caused the theft of my father's merchandise!" exclaimed Herb, jumping to his feet. "If we had only had the key then, when there was still time, we could have prevented the hold-up." "Very likely we could," agreed Bob soberly. "But we may be able to do the next best thing, Herb--get the stuff back again. If we make a copy of this key and then leave the book just where we found it, the thieves will never dream that anybody knows their secret, and they'll keep right on using the same code." "I see," said Herb slowly. "And then if we hear any more code messages we can translate them with this key, and likely get on the trail of the crooks." "Exactly!" replied Bob. "Now, I have a notebook here, and if one of you fellows will dictate that code, I'll copy it down and we'll get out of here while the getting's good. There's no telling what minute some of the gang will show up." "I'll dictate," volunteered Joe. "But while you and I are doing that, Bob, why can't Jimmy and Herb act as lookouts? Then if any of the gang comes along they can give us warning and we'll clear out." "That's good advice," agreed Bob, and Herb and Jimmy went outside and up the path a short distance, where they crouched, listening, with every muscle tense to warn their comrades if danger threatened. Meanwhile, in the cabin, Bob's pencil flew at furious speed as Joe dictated. The code was very complete, and consisted of over two hundred words, each word, in some cases, standing for a whole phrase. Bob wrote as he had never written before, but in spite of his utmost efforts it took over an hour to copy the entire list. He and Joe expected every minute to hear Herb or Jimmy give the alarm, but the woods remained calm and peaceful, and they finished their task without interruption. "There's the last word, Bob!" exclaimed Joe, with a sigh of relief. "Let's put that little book back on the shelf where we found it, and make a quick getaway." "Yes, we've got to make tracks," agreed Bob. "It will be away after dark now when we get back to the camp. If we don't hurry they will be organizing searching parties for us." With great care he placed the notebook back on the shelf, under the board, and then gazed searchingly around the cabin to make sure that no signs of their visit were left behind to warn the thieves. After assuring himself that everything was exactly as they had found it, he and Joe left the rude habitation, snapping the big padlock through the hasp. "That's a swell lock," observed Joe, grinning. "It looks strong enough to discourage anybody, but Jimmy's fish-hook licked it to a frazzle in no time." "That's the way with a lot of padlocks," said Bob, as the two started off in search of the others. "It would take dynamite to break them open, but they're easy enough to pick." "If you know how, that is," supplemented Joe, with a grin. "Oh, that's understood," replied Bob. "It's hard to do anything without the know-how." They soon picked up the two sentinels, who were greatly relieved to see them. "I thought you were going to spend the night there," grumbled Jimmy. "What happened? Did you both fall asleep in the middle of it?" "You're an ungrateful rascal, Doughnuts," answered Joe. "Here Bob and I have worked like slaves for the last hour, while all you had to do was loaf around in the nice fresh air. Then instead of thanking us, you growl because we took so long." "Well, don't get sore," protested Jimmy. "I suppose we should all be so happy over this discovery that we shouldn't mind anything. I'll bet your father will be tickled to death, Herb." "I guess he will," agreed Herb. "Although we're still a long way from getting back the stolen silk. There's no doubt that we've struck a mighty promising clue, that much is sure." Bob was about to make some remark when he checked himself and halted in a listening attitude. "I think some one is coming!" he exclaimed, in a low tone. "I'm sure I heard voices. Let's duck into the underbrush, quick!" They were not a moment too soon, for they had hardly reached a place of concealment behind a great fallen tree when two men appeared around a bend in the path. One was the same whom they had followed a few hours before, while the other was a stranger to them. This man was of a desperate and unprepossessing appearance, and a bulge under his coat suggested the possible presence of a weapon. The boys congratulated themselves that this formidable looking personage had not arrived half an hour sooner, for they were of course unarmed and would have been hard put to it had they been caught in the cabin. They lay snugly hidden in their retreat behind the fallen tree until the voices of the two men had died away in the direction of the lonely cabin. Then they returned cautiously to the path and hastened toward the main road. This they reached without meeting any one else, and set out for camp at a pace that caused Jimmy to cry for mercy. But the shadows lay long athwart the path, camp was still an indefinite distance away, and they hurried the unfortunate youth along at a great rate in spite of his piteous protests. "It will be the best thing in the world for you, Doughnuts," said Joe unfeelingly. "What you need is plenty of exercise to take that fat off you." "Besides, think of what a fine appetite you'll have when we reach camp," laughed Bob. "I've got all the appetite now that I know how to have," groaned Jimmy. "You fellows haven't a heart between you. Where other people keep their hearts, you've all got chunks of Vermont granite." "Flash a little speed, and don't talk so much," advised Herb. "Be like the tramp that the fellow met going down the street one day with an expensive rug." "Who wants to be like a tramp?" objected Jimmy. "You do, when you want to loaf all the time," retorted Herb. "But now I'll tell you a good joke to make the way seem shorter. Jimmy got me started, and now I'll have to get it out of my system." "Is it about a tramp?" asked Jimmy suspiciously. "Yes. And it's a pippin," Herb assured him. "It seems this tramp was running down the street with an expensive rug over his shoulder, and somebody stopped him and began to ask questions. "'Where did you steal that rug from?' asked the suspicious citizen. "'I didn't steal it,' answered the tramp, trying to look insulted. 'A lady in that big house down the street handed it to me and told me to beat it, and I am.'" "Say, that's a pretty good joke, for you, Herb," said Bob, laughing with the others. "Oh, that's nothing. I've got others just as good," said Herb eagerly. "Now, here's one that I made up myself the other day, but I forgot to tell it to you. Why----" "Suffering tomcats!" exclaimed Joe. "Don't tell us anything that you made up yourself, Herb! Or, at least, wait until we get back and have supper, so that we'll be strong enough to stand it." "That's what I say," agreed Jimmy. "I'm so hungry that I can't think of anything but supper, anyway. I know your joke is as good as usual, Herb, but I wouldn't be able to appreciate it just now." "It's discouraging to a high-class humorist to have to throw away his choice offerings on a bunch like this," said Herb, in an injured voice. "Some day, when I am far away, you'll wish you had listened to those gems of humor." "I'd like to believe you, but that hardly seems possible," said Bob. "Can you imagine the day ever coming when we'd actually want to sit down and listen to Herb's line of humor?" "My imagination isn't up to anything like that," replied Joe. "But, of course, you don't really ever have to ask Herb to spill some of those jokes. The hard thing is to keep him from doing it." "Oh, all right," retorted Herb. "Only, remember that it is 'easier to criticize than to create.'" For some time after this they plodded along hoping to reach camp before it got entirely dark. Bob was the first to see a distant point of light through the trees, and he emitted a whoop that startled the others. CHAPTER XX ON THE TRAIL "I can see the lights from the camp!" Bob exclaimed. "Use your eyes, fellows. A little to the left of us, through the trees." "Well, it's about time," groaned Jimmy, as they all looked in the direction indicated. "I was just getting ready to lie down and die peacefully. I couldn't travel another mile if you paid me for it." "Oh, buck up, Doughnuts, and get a move on!" exclaimed Bob. "You never know what you can do until you try. Come on, let's take it on the double." He and Joe and Herbert broke into a lively trot, and rather than be left behind Jimmy overcame his reluctance for further effort, and with much puffing and blowing and fragmentary complaint managed to hold the pace until they arrived at the mess house. Luckily for them, supper had been delayed owing to the failure of some supplies to arrive on time, and the lumbermen had just started eating when the radio boys burst in through the door. The lumbermen stopped eating long enough to welcome their arrival, and they found their places set as usual. "Glory be!" exclaimed Jimmy, as he slid into his chair. "If there were a pie-eating contest on to-night, I could show you fellows some real class. I feel empty right down to my toes." "It's lucky we got a head start, Champ," remarked one of the men, with a grin. "Pass everything down this way, you amateurs. There's a professional here wants to show us some fancy eating." By this time Jimmy was too busily occupied to make any answer, and the other radio boys were also showing good appetites. The long trip and the excitement of their discovery of the secret code had sharpened their naturally keen appetites until for once they all felt on equal terms with the lumbermen. Jimmy surpassed himself, and great was the admiration expressed for his ability as a trencherman. After supper the boys sought out Mr. Fennington and told him of their discovery in the lonely cabin. Then Bob showed him the copy he had made of the code, and Mr. Fennington studied this a long time with knit brows. "There seems little doubt that you boys have unearthed an important clue, and one that may easily lead to the discovery of the crooks who stole my merchandise," he said, at length. "I suppose I should put this information in the hands of the police. And yet perhaps we had better say nothing until we learn something further. With your radio outfit you may be able to catch another code message that would give us more definite information, and then it would be time enough to call in the police." "I think that would be the best thing to do, Dad," agreed Herb. "As soon as we get back home we'll fix it so one of us will be at the set a good part of every afternoon and evening, and we'll be almost certain to catch some more messages like the last one." His father nodded, and was still considering the matter when there came a knock at the door. Herb crossed over and opened it, and he and his friends uttered exclamations of astonishment and delight as they recognized the visitor. He was none other than Frank Brandon, the government radio inspector. On his part, he was no less pleased to see them, and they all shook hands heartily, with many questions and explanations, after which the radio inspector was introduced to Mr. Fennington. "I suppose you're all wondering what I'm doing up here," he said, after the greetings were over. "Yes, in a way," admitted Bob. "Although we know that your position calls you all over, and we may expect to meet you almost any old place." "Yes, that's a fact," replied Brandon. "I'm up here on the same old business, too. Somewhere in this neighborhood there's an unauthorized sending station, but in these thick woods it may prove a rather difficult place to locate exactly. However, it will only be a matter of time when we nail it." The boys glanced at one another, and the same thought was in all their minds. They remembered the radio apparatus they had seen in the lonely cabin, and had little doubt that this would prove to be the unauthorized station of which the radio man was in search. He must have read something of this in their expression, for he looked searchingly from one to another. "Looks to me as though you fellows knew something," he remarked. "I might have known if there was anything going on in the radio line within fifty miles of where you are that you'd know something about it." "Well, I've got a hunch that we could lead you right to the place you're looking for," said Bob quietly. "What?" shouted Brandon, leaping excitedly to his feet. "Do you really mean that? Tell me all about it." For the second time that evening Bob recounted the happenings of their eventful excursion, while the radio inspector listened intently, throwing in a question here and there. When Bob had finished he made no comment for a few minutes. Then he took the copy of the code and examined it intently, jotting down phrases here and there in his own notebook. "Well," he said at length, "this looks to be a much bigger thing than I had supposed. Of course I heard of the robbery of the motor-truck, but I never for a moment connected that with this sending station we've been looking for. It seems fairly evident, though, that if we can lay our hands on the operators of the unauthorized sending outfit, we'll also have the perpetrators of that hold-up. This is a case where we'll have to think out every move before we act." "Just before you arrived I was considering the advisability of putting the matter into the hands of the police," said Mr. Fennington. "What would you do?" "Keep the whole thing to ourselves for the present," said Mr. Brandon decisively. "I'll send for a couple of good men to come up here and help me, and we'll keep a watch on that cabin for a few days. If this thing got into the papers, it would put the crooks on their guard, and probably spoil our chances of catching them and getting back the loot. I've got a small but extremely efficient receiving and sending set in my car, and if any more code messages are sent out we'll catch them." His confidence was contagious, and the boys felt almost as though the capture of the criminals had already been accomplished. "What puzzles me, though," remarked Mr. Fennington, "is how you knew that there was an unauthorized radio sending station in this neighborhood, Mr. Brandon. I should think it would be almost impossible to locate such a station, even approximately." "On the contrary," replied Frank Brandon, "it is little more than a matter of routine. Probably any of these radio fiends here could explain the method as well as I can, but I'll try to make it plain to you. "There is a certain type of aerial that has what we call 'directional' properties, that is, when it is shifted around, the incoming signals will be loudest when this loop aerial, as it is called, is directly in line with the sending station. The receiving antenna is wound on a square frame, and when the signals are received at their maximum strength, we know that the frame is in a practically straight line with the sending station we're after." "Yes, but that still leaves you in the dark as to whether the station is one mile away or a hundred miles," observed Mr. Fennington, as Brandon paused. "That's very true," answered the other. "And for that reason we can't stop at using just one loop aerial. What we actually do is to have three stations, each one equipped with a loop. These three stations are located a good many miles apart. Now, with these three loops, we have three lines of direction. We lay out these lines on a chart of the territory, and where they intersect, is the place where the unlicensed station is located. Is that clear?" "Perfectly," said Mr. Fennington. "But what looks like a point on the map may be a large space on the actual territory." "Oh, yes, our work isn't done by any means after we have got our first rough bearings," continued Brandon. "Having determined the approximate position, we take the loops and receivers to what we know is a place quite near the station we're after, and then we repeat the former process. This time it is much more accurate. Gradually we draw the net tighter until we find the antenna belonging to the offender, and then--well, we make him wish he hadn't tried to fool the government." "You certainly have it reduced to an exact science," acknowledged Mr. Fennington. "I don't wonder that everybody interested in radio gets to be a fanatic." "We'll make a 'bug' out of you before we get through, Dad," declared Herb, grinning. "If my load of silk is recovered through the agency of radio, I'll be enthusiastic enough over it to suit even you fellows," said his father. "It will mean the best set that money can buy for you if I get it back." "We'll hold you to that promise," threatened Herb. "Radio can do anything," he added, with the conviction of a devotee. "Well, pretty nearly everything," qualified Mr. Brandon. "A little while ago it was considered marvelous that we could transmit the voice by radio, and now the transmission of photographs by radio has been successfully accomplished." "What!" exclaimed Mr. Fennington incredulously. "Do you mean to say that an actual recognizable photograph has been sent through the air by radio? That seems almost too much to believe." "Nevertheless, it has been done," insisted Frank Brandon. "I saw the actual reproduction of one that had been sent from Italy to New York by the wireless route, and while I can't claim that it was perfect, still it was as plain as the average newspaper picture. And don't forget that this is a new phase of the game, and is not past the experimental stage yet." "Well, after that, I am inclined to agree with Herbert that 'radio can do anything,'" admitted Mr. Fennington. "I don't think we'll have much trouble making a convert of you," laughed the radio inspector. "No doubt the quickest way, though, will be to recover your stolen shipment, so we'll start working in that direction the first thing in the morning." And in this he was as good as his word. He was up betimes, getting in touch with headquarters by means of his compact portable outfit. He kept at work until he had received the promise of two trustworthy men, who were to report to him at the lumber camp as soon as they could get there. Then he routed out the radio boys, and after a hasty breakfast they all set out to locate the cabin where the boys had found the code key. CHAPTER XXI THE GLIMPSE THROUGH THE WINDOW The sun was just climbing above the treetops when the radio boys and Frank Brandon set out over the forest road, to the accompaniment of a full chorus of lusty feathered singers. Robin and starling and thrush combined to make the dewy morning gladsome, and the boys whistled back at them and wished Larry Bartlett were there to learn some new notes. "This would be just his dish," commented Herb. "After he got warmed up, you wouldn't be able to tell him from the birds." "The only difference is, that he's better," declared Joe. "If he were here now, he'd be teaching the dicky birds a new song or two. That boy is certainly a wonder." "He's very clever," acknowledged Brandon. "He's getting along wonderfully well at the broadcasting station, and I understand he's had several good offers from the big vaudeville circuits." "Why doesn't he accept one?" questioned Joe. "He hasn't fully recovered from the effects of the accident yet. And, besides, he says he likes the radio work better. He can stay in one place, and cut out all the traveling. That seems to be a strong consideration with him." "I don't know that I can blame him," commented Bob. "I should think that continual jumping around from place to place would get on anybody's nerves." "Still, it gives one a fine chance to see the country," argued Frank Brandon. "If any of you fellows ever get into radio work in a commercial way, the chances are you won't be able to 'stay put' in one place very long." "There's one great advantage about traveling, anyway," said Jimmy. "What's that, Doughnuts?" queried Joe. "I should think that with your restful nature you'd rather stay in the same place and grow old and fat in perfect comfort." "Oh, that part of it is all right," admitted Jimmy. "But don't forget that different parts of the country have different kinds of cooking. In New York the specialty is shore dinners; go a little South, and you get fried chicken and corn pone cooked by guaranteed southern mammies; go up North, and you get venison steaks; in the West they'll feed you mutton chops as big as a plate. And so it goes." "You've even forgotten some places," laughed Bob. "How about a steaming dish of beans in Boston?" "Yes, or frijoles and chile con carne in New Mexico," suggested Herb. "Cease, cease!" groaned Jimmy. "Why talk about such things when we're such a long way from them? Every time you mention something new it makes me feel hungrier." "Hungrier!" exclaimed Mr. Brandon. "Why, it's hardly half an hour since we finished breakfast!" "What has breakfast got to do with it?" demanded the insatiable Jimmy. "That's past and done with. It's time to think of lunch, now." "You win," laughed Brandon. "Your capacity will make you famous some day." "It's made him famous already--at least, up here," Bob informed the radio inspector. "Didn't you know that he is the undisputed champion pie eater of the camp?" "No, I didn't know that, but it doesn't surprise me in the least to hear it," said Brandon, with a smile. "How did he gain his laurels?" Then Bob told him about the contest, and when he had finished Mr. Brandon laughingly congratulated Jimmy. "I always had a sneaking idea that you could do it," he admitted. "But after my experience with lumbermen's appetites, I realize that you must have been on your mettle all the way." "It was rather hard at the end," admitted Jimmy, "but take it all together it was a real pleasure. That cook sure does know how to make good pies," and an expression of blissful reminiscence spread over his round countenance. "He made a regular pig of himself, but we knew he would, and that's why we had such confidence in him," said Joe. "Nothing of the kind!" protested Jimmy. "You know you fellows got me into it in the first place. You fixed it all up, and I only went in as a favor to you. But I might know better than to expect gratitude from this bunch." "You'll find it in the dictionary," Joe informed him. "You ought to be grateful to us for providing you with a feed like that. It would have cost you a lot of money to buy all those pies back home." "I think he came well out of it, at any rate," interposed the radio man. "But we must now be getting somewhere near that cabin, and we'd better go as quietly as we can. We know that there are two of the gang hanging out in it, and there's no telling how many more there may be." "Not so very near the cabin yet," answered Bob. "Nearer that tree to which they had the receiving set attached." Nevertheless, they advanced as silently as possible, keeping a sharp lookout for any sign of the black-moustached stranger and his friend. The woods seemed devoid of human presence other than their own, however, and they saw nothing to arouse suspicion until at length they reached the tree to which the receiving set was fastened. Frank Brandon examined this with interest. The box was securely locked, but the radio man drew a big bunch of various-sized keys from his pocket. "I want to see what's in this box, but first I think we'd better post sentries," he said, in a low voice. "Suppose you go back a few hundred feet the way we came, Jimmy. You go the same distance in the other direction, Herb. And Joe can go a little way up the path that leads toward the cabin. You can stay here and help me get this box open, Bob. If any of you hear some one coming, imitate a robin's note three times, and then keep out of sight. We don't want the crooks to suspect yet that anybody is on their trail." The three radio boys scattered to their appointed posts, and Frank Brandon proceeded to try key after key in the lock. He had to try fully a dozen before at last the lock clicked and the door of the box swung open. Inside was a complete radio receiving set, with vacuum tube detector and batteries in perfect working order. Between the roots of the tree an iron pipe had been driven into the earth to act as a ground. The antenna was strung from top to bottom of the tree on the side away from the path, and there was nothing to differentiate the box from an ordinary wire telephone set, except that it was slightly larger. There were a number of regular wire telephones scattered throughout the woods, to aid in fighting forest fires, so that anybody traveling along the path would have been unlikely to give this outfit more than a passing glance, if they noticed it at all. Had the radio boys not chanced to see the black-moustached man listening, with wireless headphones over his ears, the fact that the box contained a wireless receiving outfit might never have been discovered. Brandon and Bob went carefully over every article of the equipment. They were on the lookout for another notebook such as the boys had found in the cabin, but there was nothing of the kind in the box. When they were satisfied of this, Mr. Brandon carefully replaced everything as he had found it, and snapped the lock shut. "So much for that!" he exclaimed. "Now, let's get hold of the others and we'll see what that mysterious cabin looks like." Joe and Herb and Jimmy were soon recalled from their sentry duty, and all set out along the path to the cabin. When they got close to the clearing the three sentries were again posted, while Bob and the inspector made a detour through the woods so as to approach the cabin on the side away from the path, where there was little likelihood of those inside keeping a lookout. Very cautiously they advanced from the concealment of the woods, Frank Brandon with his right hand on the butt of a deadly looking automatic pistol. They crept close to the wall of the cabin, and listened intently for some sign of life within. That there was at least one man in the cabin, and that he was still sleeping, soon became evident, for they heard the heavy breathing of one sound asleep. Mr. Brandon cautiously raised himself as high as the window, and peered within. From this position he could not see the sleeper, however, and he and Bob moved silently to the other side of the shack. From there they commanded a good view of the interior, and could plainly see the sleeping man, who was the same whom the boys had first encountered the day before. His black-moustached face was toward them, and Brandon gave a start of recognition, while his fingers tightened on his pistol. For a few moments he stood tense, evidently deciding what to do. Then he beckoned to Bob to follow, and made for the path where the others anxiously awaited them. "I know that man in there!" exclaimed Brandon excitedly. "He is known as 'Black' Donegan, on account of his black hair and moustache. He's wanted by the police of New York and Chicago, and I guess other cities, too. We could easily get him now, but if we did, the chances are the rest of the gang would take alarm, and we'd miss the chance of bagging them and getting back Mr. Fennington's stolen property. It's hard to say what is the best thing to do." But on the instant a plan occurred to Bob, and he lost no time in communicating it to the others. CHAPTER XXII A NEFARIOUS PLOT "If this fellow in the cabin is such a bad man, we can't afford to risk losing sight of him," said Bob. "Suppose Joe and Jimmy and I stay here, while Herb goes back with you, Mr. Brandon. We can stay here until your two regulars show up, and Herb can then bring them here to relieve us. How does that strike you?" "It's a way out of the predicament," answered Frank Brandon, his frown vanishing. "You fellows are apt to have a long vigil, though. My men won't get to the camp until this afternoon, and after that it takes quite a while to reach this place." "I guess we can stand it," said Bob. "Can't we, fellows?" he asked, glancing at the others. Both Joe and Jimmy agreed, although the latter had secret misgivings as he thought regretfully of the dinner he would miss. However, such considerations were of little weight just then, and it was finally decided to adopt Bob's plan. "I'll leave my pistol with you," said Brandon, as he and Herb prepared to leave. "But whatever else you do, steer clear of this gang and don't use firearms unless as a last resort. Remember, that if they once find out their hiding place is discovered, our whole scheme will be ruined." The boys promised to exercise the greatest caution, and then Mr. Brandon and Herb started back toward camp. Bob, after a brief inspection, dropped the deadly automatic pistol into his pocket, and then the three friends considered how they might best keep watch on the cabin without being discovered. First of all, at Joe's suggestion, they armed themselves with serviceable clubs, that might come in handy in time of necessity. Then they slipped silently into the underbrush, and worked their way along until they had attained a position where they commanded a view of the cabin's only door. The spot they had chosen was surrounded by dense thickets, and one might have passed within ten feet without spying them. Bob carefully parted the bushes and broke off twigs here and there until they could see plainly enough, and yet were securely hidden from the cabin. This done, the boys made themselves as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, and prepared for a long vigil. They had been in their retreat less than half an hour when the door of the shack was flung open, and the black-moustached man appeared on the threshold. He gazed searchingly about the little clearing, then glanced up at the mounting sun and stretched prodigiously. At length, apparently satisfied that all was as it should be, he turned back into the cabin, and soon the aroma of bacon and coffee came floating down the wind to where the boys lay. Jimmy's nose twitched and his mouth watered, but he thought of the importance of the mission that had been intrusted to them by the radio inspector and stifled his longings. The man in the cabin ate a leisurely breakfast, and apparently was in no hurry. Indeed, from the way he loitered over the meal, the boys rather suspected that he was awaiting the arrival of some other members of the gang. Nor were they mistaken. After a time the lads could hear the sound of approaching voices, and soon three men entered the clearing and made for the cabin. At the first sound of their voices, the man inside had stepped swiftly to the door, one hand in the bulging pocket of his coat; but when he recognized the others an ugly grin spread over his face, while his hand dropped to his side. "So you have got here at last, eh?" he snarled. "I'm glad to find you didn't hurry yourselves any. I thought I sent you a wireless message to get here early." "So you did, chief," spoke up one of the newcomers. "But we couldn't get here no sooner." "You couldn't?" snapped the other. "Why couldn't you?" "We got word that one of the government radio inspectors was at the lumber camp, so we had to come here by the long way. We were afraid he might recognize one of us if we happened to bump into him." "Well, the cops have photoed all of you so often that I don't wonder you're shy," sneered the leader. "But come on inside. There's no use of standing chinning here." Two of the men muttered sullenly to themselves, but ceased abruptly as the leader's frowning gaze fell on them. They all shuffled into the cabin, and the black-moustached man shut the door with a bang. "Say," whispered Bob, "we've got to listen in on this pow-wow, fellows. I'm going to sneak up to the window and try to hear what they're saying. They must have some purpose in meeting here like this." "Well, be mighty careful, Bob," said Joe anxiously. "They're a tough crowd, and we've got to watch our step. If they discover you, head for here, and if we can't get away we'll put up a battle." "If I have any kind of luck, they won't discover me," Bob assured him. "Just sit tight, and I'll be back in a jiffy." Very cautiously he crept through the underbrush toward the cabin. In spite of all his care a branch snapped under him and the second time the door was flung wide and the ill-favored leader of the gang stepped out and peered about him. Bob flattened out as close to the ground as he could get and lay tense, while the outlaw gazed suspiciously at the bushes amid which he was concealed. "What's the matter, Blackie?" called one of the gang. "Did you think you heard somethin'?" "I know I did!" exclaimed the other. "But I suppose it was only some animal prowling around." "Bein' alone in this shack has got on your nerves, maybe," taunted one of the gang. "Nerves, my eye!" exclaimed the other. "I don't own such things! But I've got a notion to take a look through those bushes, anyway," and he started in Bob's direction. "Come on back, Blackie," urged another of the gang. "We can't be foolin' around here all day. Be yourself, can't you?" The others chimed in to the same effect, and their leader reluctantly abandoned his search and returned to the cabin. Had he gone another twenty feet he would inevitably have discovered Bob, who had been on the point of springing to his feet and giving battle. It was a narrow escape, and the radio boys heaved sighs of relief as the door of the cabin closed on the formidable figure of the leader. They knew that these men were desperate criminals, heavily armed, who would not hesitate at murder to avoid capture. Bob resumed his advance, an inch at a time, and at length reached the edge of the clearing. Before him lay a stretch of perhaps twenty feet of open ground, and should one of the desperados chance to open the door while he was crossing this space, discovery would be certain. However, this was a chance that Bob knew he must take, and without hesitation he sprang to his feet and ran swiftly but silently toward the cabin. Fortunately he reached it unobserved, and crouched close to the wall beneath one of the little windows. There were numerous cracks in the side of the rude structure, and he had no difficulty in hearing what was going on inside. The crooks were engaged in a heated debate, but soon the voice of their leader spoke out commandingly and the others fell silent. "I tell you we haven't had a chance to get rid of that last load of silk we got near Castleton," he said, in an angry voice. "I couldn't get the price I wanted for it, and, besides, it will be just as easy to get rid of two loads as one, and no more risk. Now, I'm going to send out a radio message in code to the rest of the gang, and we'll pull off the job to-night, just as I've already told you." There were no dissenting voices, and presently Bob heard the whirr of the sending set, followed by the voice of the leader. "HDEA' HDEA'," he called again and again, switching over to the receiving set to get an answer. At length he evidently reached the station he was after, for he listened intently for a few minutes. Then the generator hummed again, and Bob heard the black-moustached man speaking again. "Get this, and get it right," he commanded, and there followed a string of words that would have been mere gibberish to Bob had he not held the key to their meaning. He searched frantically in his pockets for a pencil, and scribbled the words down as the man spoke them. When he had finished, the leader of the gang shut down the generator, and turned to the others. "That's fixed," he said. "There won't be much to do for the rest of the day but look over your guns and make sure they're in good working order. Since we got that last truck they've been putting guards on them, and we want to be prepared to shoot before they do." There was a general pushing back of chairs, and Bob realized that at any moment the door might open. His mind worked quickly, and instead of going back to his friends the way he had come, he made a rush for the woods on the opposite side of the clearing. In this way the "blind," or windowless, end of the cabin was toward him, so that he would not be likely to be detected unless the robbers came out and walked around the house. Lucky it was for Bob that he acted as he did, because he had barely started when the door was flung open and those inside came streaming out. For a few moments they stood in a group in front of the door, talking, and then scattered, some walking about, while others threw themselves on the ground and smoked. But by this time Bob had reached the cover of the woods undiscovered, and set out to rejoin his friends. This necessitated a long detour, and it was a full hour later that he crept silently into their hiding place. So quietly did he come that Jimmy was on the point of uttering a startled exclamation, but checked himself just in time. CHAPTER XXIII PREPARING AN AMBUSH "Say, you came as quietly as a shadow," whispered the plump youth. "How do you ever do it?" "You don't expect me to blow a whistle under the circumstances, do you?" asked Bob. "Never mind that, but tell us what you heard," said Joe impatiently. "What are they up to, Bob?" "I can't tell you until I compare what I copied down with the code key," said Bob, as he fished in his pocket for the bit of paper on which he had noted down the robber's message. Having found this, he and Joe searched through the key and soon had the following message pieced together: "Truck--silk--Barberton Road--to-night. Meet me and others--Hicks Bridge--eight o'clock. Truck due--ten o'clock." Having deciphered the message, the boys gazed questioningly at one another. "That doesn't give us much time to act," said Joe. "If we wait here it may be close to eight o'clock before the others come to relieve us, and then it will be too late to prevent the robbery." "The answer is, that we won't wait here," said Bob decisively. "As long as we know their plans up until this evening, there's no need of watching this cabin any longer, anyway. We'd better start back right away, and tell Mr. Brandon what we've found out. He'll know the best thing to do then." "That sounds all right to me," said Joe, and as Jimmy saw a chance of getting back to camp in time for dinner, he put in no objections. "Now, for the love of butter, try to go quietly, Jimmy," warned Bob. "If those fellows hear a sound from this direction, they'll be right after us, because their suspicions are already aroused." "I'll do the best I can," promised his rotund friend. "But I'm heavier than you fellows, and I can't slide around so easily." "Well, go easy, anyway," said Bob. "Now, are we all ready?" With infinite caution the boys wormed their way through the brushwood, Bob leading. By luck rather than good management Jimmy managed to be as quiet as his friends, and after almost an hour of this slow progress Bob judged that they were far enough away from the cabin to risk a faster pace. The shack was out of sight among the trees when he sprang to his feet, followed by the others, and in a short time they had reached the path leading to the main road. Here it was still necessary to be extremely careful, for they never knew at what moment some turn in the path would bring them face to face with some of the robber band. Fortunately nothing of the kind happened, and soon they reached the main road and started at high speed for camp. "I wonder if we can't take some sort of a short cut," came from Joe as they raced along. "That's the talk," puffed poor Jimmy, who had great difficulty in keeping up with his chums. "The shorter the better." "We won't dare risk it," returned Bob. "Why we might get lost." "Who's afraid of getting lost?" "We are, for we might lose too much time and all our plans would go to smash. No, we've got to stick to the main road." "How much further have we to go?" "I don't know." "We've got to chase along until we reach camp," put in Joe. "Hustle now, every minute may be precious." "I can't hustle any more than I am hustling," panted poor Jimmy. "Do you want me to drop down of heart failure or something like that?" "Maybe we'd better go along and leave Jimmy behind," suggested Joe, with a wink at Bob. "Not much," cried the stout youth, and after that did his best to keep up with the others. Not a great while later they came in sight of camp, much to their relief. Mr. Brandon was astonished to see them back so soon, but as briefly as possible Bob told him of what they had learned and showed him the code message. "You fellows have done a clever bit of detective work, and with reasonable luck it ought to be possible to bag the whole gang to-night," said Brandon. "I know where Hicks Bridge is. It's about five miles this side of Barberton, and an ideal place for an ambuscade. The road runs between high banks just before it gets to the bridge, and some of the gang posted on those banks could command the road from either direction. But I'll get in communication with the chief of police of Barberton, and we'll see if we can't catch the thieves in their own trap." "I suppose the two men you were expecting haven't arrived yet, have they?" inquired Bob. "No. And I'm afraid we won't be able to wait for them, either," said Brandon. "I could radio to the Barberton chief, but I'm afraid the message might be intercepted by the crooks, if one of them happened to be listening. I guess it will be better to go by way of my automobile, although I hate to lose the time that it will take." "Isn't there a telephone line from the camp?" suggested Joe. "No, unfortunately, one hasn't been installed yet," replied the inspector. "But we can do the trick with the car if we start right away. I suppose there's no need of asking if you fellows would like to come with me?" "None whatever," answered Bob, grinning. "Just give us a chance to go in and snatch a little grub off the table, and we'll eat it on the way." Frank Brandon nodded, and the three boys dashed into the mess hall and caught up anything in the way of eatables that came nearest to hand, Jimmy, of course, specializing on his favorite doughnuts. Then they hurried out, and found Mr. Brandon waiting for them, with the motor running. After a short search they found Herb fast asleep in his bunk, and roused him unceremoniously, hustling him out before he was fairly awake. "What's it all about?" he questioned, rubbing his eyes. "Has the camp caught fire, or do you just want to borrow some money from me?" "Never mind the funny business now, we'll tell you all about it while we're traveling," said Bob, as they reached the automobile. "In you go, Herb." Before they could find seats Mr. Brandon had let in the clutch, and the car started with a jerk that landed them in a heap on the cushions. Regardless of the rough road, he kept picking up speed, and soon it was all they could do to stay in the car at all. Barberton was about thirty miles from the camp, and to reach it they had to cross Hicks Bridge. All looked calm and peaceful just then, and it was hard to believe that in a few short hours a desperate fight might be raging between the high banks that flanked the road. The bridge was some two hundred feet long, and passed over a deep cut between two hills. In spite of its present peaceful appearance it was easy to see that the place would be an ideal one to perpetrate such a crime as the robbers contemplated, and after they had passed over the bridge Mr. Brandon opened the throttle wider in his impatience to reach Barberton. They slowed down to go through the streets of the town, and as they drew up in front of the police station, Brandon shut off his motor and leaped to the sidewalk. "Come on in, boys, and we'll tell the chief about the little party scheduled for this evening," he said, and the boys followed him into the police station. Fortunately the chief of police, Mr. Durand, was in, and he greeted Mr. Brandon with a heartiness that showed they were old friends. After they had shaken hands, Brandon introduced the radio boys, and then proceeded to acquaint the chief with the details of the plot they had discovered. As Mr. Durand listened a dark frown gathered between his bushy eyebrows, and his fingers drummed angrily on the table before him. When Mr. Brandon had finished, the chief jumped to his feet and strode fiercely up and down the room. "This won't be the first trouble we've had with those rascals!" he exclaimed wrathfully. "Members of the same gang have held up and robbed stores in this town, and we have two of them doing their bit in jail right now. And if we have any luck to-night we'll have the whole gang under lock and key before the morning. These young fellows must have been right on the job from start to finish, Frank." "Yes, I guess they were," replied Brandon. "If we land this gang, we'll have them to thank for it. But now what are your plans for capturing the crooks?" For answer the chief pressed a button, and a capable looking police lieutenant appeared. "Get together ten of our best men," he directed, "and put them into two automobiles. When they are ready to start, report to me." The lieutenant saluted, and left the room. "According to the code message, the robbers won't be at Hicks Bridge much before eight o'clock, which is after dark these days," said the chief. "We'll get there a lot earlier than that, and I'll conceal my men in the woods. Then I'll leave orders here to stop the motor truck as it comes through, and replace its crew with a few picked men from my force. When the robbers try to hold up that truck, they'll have a big surprise in store for them." "It might be a good plan," suggested Bob, "to mount a searchlight or two on the motor truck. At the right minute you could turn these on the crooks, and while it would confuse them, it would give your men in the woods a big advantage, as they'd be able to see the hold-up men plainly without being seen themselves." "Young man, that's a first-rate suggestion!" exclaimed the chief, eyeing him appraisingly, "and you can believe we'll take advantage of it. I'll commandeer a couple from the Electric Light Company in readiness to mount on the truck when it comes along. I wish we could persuade you and your friends to join the Barberton police force." "We'll be pretty nearly a part of it until those crooks are captured, if you'll let us," said Bob. "We all want to be in at the finish." "It will be a dangerous business, and bullets may fly thick," the chief warned him. "You fellows have done more than your full duty already, and we can hardly call on you to do any more." "Just the same, we'll come along if you don't mind," insisted Bob. "Oh, I'll be very glad to have you, as far as I'm concerned," said Mr. Durand. "I suppose you'll want to be in on it, too, Frank?" "You're dead right," Brandon assured him emphatically. "I've gone too far with this to want to drop out now." At this point the lieutenant appeared and reported that the men were in the automobiles, ready to start. Picking up the telephone, the chief ordered his own car. He invited Mr. Brandon and the radio boys to ride with him. "You can leave your car in the police garage, Frank," he said, and Brandon was not slow in availing himself of this offer. In a short time he returned, and the three automobiles started for the scene of the projected hold-up, the chief's car leading and the other two following close behind. CHAPTER XXIV LYING IN WAIT "Doesn't look as though there's going to be much monotony in our young lives to-night," remarked Bob, as, tightly packed in the tonneau of the car, the boys rode on through the gathering darkness. "For that matter there hasn't been much for several days past," chuckled Joe, who sat at his right. "A fellow would have to be a glutton to want more adventure than we've had since we came to Braxton Woods. What with Buck Looker and Black Donegan, we ought to be pretty well satisfied." "I only hope Cassey will be in the gang that is rounded up to-night," observed Herb. "It would be too bad if only the rest were captured and that all-around scoundrel slipped through the meshes." "I guess Cassey is the brains of the whole bunch," put in Jimmy. "Probably the others didn't know anything about radio until he put them on to it. He'll be there all right. And he's likely to put up a pretty stiff fight before he lets himself be captured, for he knows what it means to him to be sent back to prison. With a new sentence tacked on to the old one it'll probably mean that he'll be in for life." In a little while they reached the scene of the proposed robbery. They were well in advance of the time set by the plotters, and the chief took his time in carefully disposing his forces, availing himself of Frank Brandon's advice in doing this. The bridge stretched between two hills at the bottom of which was a small stream, about a hundred feet below. On each side, almost down to the bridge itself, extended trees and shrubbery that afforded excellent hiding places. The only trouble was that both the outlaws and the officers who were trying to apprehend them were likely to seek the same shelter and might in this way stumble across each other before the trap was ready to be sprung. This, however, was a contingency that had to be faced, and preparations were made accordingly. The men were placed at strategic points on both sides of the bridge. Whether the attempt at hold-up would be made at the entrance to the bridge or on the further side was a matter of speculation. The chief went on the theory, however, that it would probably take place at the entrance, and there he placed the majority of the men under him. The radio boys hinted that there was where they would like to be also, but in this the chief was adamant. "I've stretched a point in letting you young fire-eaters come along at all," he said. "As it is, I may have a hard time explaining to your parents. And I hate to think what my position would be if anything happened to you. So I am going to put you where I think you'll be comparatively out of danger. You're just to be lookers on at this shindig. And if the bullets begin to fly, you just lie flat on the ground behind the trees until they stop. It may not be so glorious, but it's likely to be a mighty sight more healthy." So, much against their will, the boys were compelled to obey orders and take the place assigned to them which was on the further side of the bridge. "Putting us up in the gallery when we ought to have seats in the orchestra," grumbled Joe, as the boys ensconced themselves in a thicket behind a big clump of trees. "Cheer up, you old gloom hound," chaffed Bob. "We may get in on this yet. At any rate, if we are in the gallery, we have a good view of the stage. Or at least we shall have, when the searchlight gets busy." The darkness deepened until the night became as black as Egypt. There was no moon, and even the stars were obscured by clouds that heavily veiled the sky. The night was chill, and the boys buttoned their coats tightly about them as they sat waiting for developments. They had perhaps an hour to wait, but it was not known but that some of the robbers would be on the ground at an earlier time than had been set, and every sense was on the alert as all strained their ears for the slightest sound and peered into the darkness on the chance that they might catch glimpses of shadowy forms. After the first few moments they had not ventured to talk for fear that they might be overheard. But this did not debar them from thinking, and they thrilled with excitement as they pictured each to himself the struggle that seemed about to take place on the road. The minutes dragged along interminably, and in the intense silence the lads could almost hear the beating of their hearts. Then at a little distance a twig cracked and sent the blood racing madly through their veins. Soon footsteps were heard approaching, and the lads crouched still lower in their hiding place. The sounds came nearer, and they could detect the tread of two men. They were approaching without any excessive degree of caution, as they had no reason to believe that their plans had been discovered. As they drew closer, the boys could hear them conversing in low tones. "I tell you it's all right," said a rough voice, which they recognized as that of Black Donegan. "All the fellows are tipped off and know just what they've got to do. Jake and Toppy will do the holding up, and then the rest of us will jump in if the driver cuts up rough. If he does, there'll be one more dead driver." The boys waited for the answer that seemed to be long in coming. What they heard finally was a whistle that made them jump. They had heard that whistle before! "Cassey!" whispered Bob to Joe. "Cassey, as sure as you're born!" The next instant his belief became a thrilling certainty. "It-t-t-t isn't the d-d-driver." The voice came out, with an explosive quality. "It's the g-g-guards he may have w-w-with him. The p-p-police are getting pretty l-l-leary about all the robberies t-t-t-that have been taking place around here lately, and they've g-g-g-," again came the whistle, "g-got to do something or lose their jobs. At any rate t-t-this is the last thing we're g-g-going to pull off around here----" "I guess he's right about that," Joe whispered to Bob. "----and j-j-just as soon as we're through with this, w-w-we'd better p-pull up stakes and try somewhere else." The voice was now so close at hand that if the boys had reached out of the thicket they would almost have touched the speaker. At this thought Jimmy and Herb, especially, felt a thrill of excitement. CHAPTER XXV AN EXCITING STRUGGLE "I think myself that we've hung round this neck o' the woods about long enough," agreed Donegan. "And I ain't any too well pleased to have that radio inspector snooping around the woods. He ain't up to any good if you ask me. But brace up, Cassey, for this last haul. You ain't generally chicken-hearted." "You'll f-f-find that I have my n-n-nerve with me when the pinch comes," replied Cassey. "I'd rather be k-k-killed by a bullet than g-g-g-go back to prison." The voices receded as the men went on, and soon the sound of their footsteps ceased. It was evident they were searching for the most advantageous place for the crime that they contemplated. "I told you that I had a hunch that that villain would be here," whispered Jimmy, when they felt that it would be safe to speak. "Good thing, too," said Bob grimly. "Cassey'll get to-night what's coming to him." Half an hour passed--an hour--an hour and a half. Then far in the distance the boys heard the hum of a motor engine and the rumble of a heavy truck. "There it comes!" ejaculated Joe, throwing caution to the winds in his excitement. The rumbling grew louder, and soon the boys knew that it must be close to the bridge. Then they saw the lamps of an auto truck sending out their beams of light a hundred feet in advance, and could just discern above them the massive body of the truck. It came on at a moderate rate of speed, slowing up somewhat as it struck the bridge. Suddenly shots rang out and the boys could see two dark figures standing on the bridge and waving their hands at the driver, as they bellowed out orders to stop. At the same time, as though the shots had been a signal, three other figures came rushing from other directions. It was impossible for the boys to keep still, and they too sprang to their feet and started for the scene of the hold-up, running at the top of their speed. Just as they left their covert there was a blinding flash that made the whole bridge as bright as day. A searchlight had been turned on from the top of the truck full in the faces of the robbers. They staggered as though they had been struck, and at the same instant there came a volley of shots and the police were upon the hold-up men. There was a wild mélée of struggling men, as they swayed back and forth in a desperate struggle. The robbers had been taken completely by surprise and were outnumbered two to one. There were shouts and the crack of revolvers, and the thud of pistol butts. But the battle, though fierce, was of short duration. In a few minutes the robbers had been subdued. One lay stunned on the bridge and another lay by him wounded. Two more were held in the grasp of officers. One, however, tore himself away from the officer who had grappled with him, and came rushing in the direction of the radio boys. In the glare from the searchlight they recognized Cassey. He saw them, too, and fired his revolver at them. The shot went wild. He pressed the trigger again but with no result. Then, realizing that his weapon was empty, he hurled it at Bob, who was nearest to him. Bob dodged, and the next instant grabbed at Cassey's legs. The expertness that had made him the star of his football team stood him in good stead. His arms closed round Cassey in a flying tackle, and they came heavily to the bridge together. Cassey struggled desperately to rise, but Bob held him in an unbreakable grip, and a second later his comrades had come to his assistance and the scoundrel was overpowered and delivered over to the police, who came rushing up. The robbers were securely bound and bundled into the auto truck that they had planned to rob. Then in high spirits the party drove back to Barberton. The chief was jubilant, and the praises he heaped upon the radio boys made their ears burn. They stayed long enough at his office to see the prisoners safely jailed and then, though the hour was late, rode back to their quarters in the woods with Mr. Brandon. They slept long and late after their exciting experience, and it was almost noon the next day when they awoke. Bob was somewhat surprised to find a letter waiting for him. It bore no stamp, and had evidently been brought there by one of the lumbermen. He opened it curiously and glanced at the signature. Then he gave a shout that brought his comrades quickly to his side. "What do you think of this, fellows?" he cried. "Buck Looker's writing to me." There was a chorus of wondering exclamations. The last paragraph caught Bob's eye and he read it aloud: "As for Bob Layton and those other chumps, all we've got to do is to stand pat. No one saw us put the stones in the snowballs, and if we just deny it, they can't pin anything on us. They'll have to pay for the window, and that'll even up things for what they did to us at Mountain Pass. "Yours, "Buck." Bob was utterly dumbfounded. Then he glanced at the heading of the letter and let out a whoop. "Oh, this is too rich!" he cried, almost choking with laughter. "This letter is directed to Carl Lutz. You know he went home two or three days ago. Buck has written two letters, one to Lutz and the other to me--probably a roast--and he's put them in the wrong envelopes. Oh, how he's given himself away!" Bob's comrades were fairly convulsed, and Jimmy grew so purple in the face that they had to slap him vigorously on the back. They had scarcely got him into a calmer frame, before he threatened to go off again, for he saw Buck Looker strolling along the road. "Probably's come along to see how you were bearing up under the roast," chuckled Joe. Bob ran over toward Buck, followed by his comrades. Buck looked alarmed and put himself in a posture of defense. "Oh, we're not going to hurt you," said Bob. "I only wanted to tell you that I got your letter." "I hope it blistered your hide," growled Buck. "It made me nearly laugh myself to death," replied Bob. "But let me advise you, Buck, to make sure the next time that you get the right letter in the right envelope." "What do you mean by that?" asked Buck, in apprehension. "Only that I got the letter you meant for Carl Lutz," replied Bob. "Maybe you've forgotten what you said, so I'll read the last paragraph," and, dwelling on every word, he read it over deliberately. Before he had quite finished, Buck made a desperate grab at the letter, but Bob was too quick for him. "No, you don't!" he exclaimed, as he folded it and put it carefully into his pocket. "That letter's going to cost you about two hundred dollars, for that's what it will cost to pony up for the broken window. We've got you dead to rights, and you'd better pay up and pay up quick. So long, Buck. And do be more careful next time to get the right letter in the right envelope." With all his bluster knocked out of him, Buck slunk away. The boys were not surprised to learn in the next letter from home that the insurance company had been paid. "Some excitement we have had here," remarked Bob. "Wonder if we'll ever have such strenuous times again." "Sure," declared Joe promptly, and he was right, as we shall see in the next volume of this series, to be called, "The Radio Boys with the Forest Rangers." In that volume we shall see how they fought a fire that came close to ending tragically. After a good dinner, the boys lay sprawled out on the grass basking in the spring sunshine and utterly at peace with themselves and the world. "Well, it's been hard work, but we've had pretty good luck at trailing a voice," observed Bob. "Yes," agreed Joe with a grin, "and s-s-s-such a v-v-v-voice!" And Jimmy whistled. THE END * * * * * * THE RADIO BOYS SERIES (Trademark Registered) By ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of the "Railroad Series," Etc. Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers For Each Story. Every Volume Complete in Itself. A new series for boys giving full details of radio work, both in sending and receiving--telling how small and large amateur sets can be made and operated, and how some boys got a lot of fun and adventure out of what they did. Each volume from first to last is so thoroughly fascinating, so strictly up-to-date and accurate, we feel sure all lads will peruse them with great delight. Each volume has a Foreword by Jack Binns, the well-known radio expert of the New York Tribune. THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS; Or, Winning the Ferberton Prize. THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT; Or, The Message That Saved the Ship. THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION; Or, Making Good in the Wireless Room. THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS; Or, The Midnight Call for Assistance. THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE; Or, Solving a Wireless Mystery. THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FOREST RANGERS; Or, The Great Fire on Spruce Mountain. THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE ICEBERG PATROL; Or, Making Safe the Ocean Lanes. Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York * * * * * * THE TOM SWIFT SERIES By VICTOR APPLETON Uniform Style of Binding. Individual Colored Wrappers For Each Story. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading. TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL TOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANK TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCH TOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVE TOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT OIL GUSHER Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York * * * * * * THE OUTDOOR CHUMS SERIES By CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN The outdoor chums are four wide-awake lads, sons of wealthy men of a small city located on a lake. The boys love outdoor life, and are greatly interested in hunting, fishing, and picture taking. They have motor cycles, motor boats, canoes, etc., and during their vacations go everywhere and have all sorts of thrilling adventures. The stories give full directions for camping out, how to fish, how to hunt wild animals and prepare the skins for stuffing, how to manage a canoe, how to swim, etc. Full of the spirit of outdoor life. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS Or The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE Or Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST Or Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF Or Rescuing the Lost Balloonists. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME Or Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON A HOUSEBOAT Or The Rivals of the Mississippi. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE BIG WOODS Or The Rival Hunters at Lumber Run. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AT CABIN POINT Or The Golden Cup Mystery. 12mo. Averaging 240 pages. Illustrated. Handsomely bound in Cloth. Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York * * * * * * THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH SERIES By GRAHAM B. FORBES Never was there a cleaner, brighter, more manly boy than Frank Allen, the hero of this series of boys' tales, and never was there a better crowd of lads to associate with than the students of the School. All boys will read these stories with deep interest. The rivalry between the towns along the river was of the keenest, and plots and counterplots to win the champions, at baseball, at football, at boat racing, at track athletics, and at ice hockey, were without number. Any lad reading one volume of this series will surely want the others. THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH Or The All Around Rivals of the School THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE DIAMOND Or Winning Out by Pluck THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE RIVER Or The Boat Race Plot that Failed THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE GRIDIRON Or The Struggle for the Silver Cup THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE ICE Or Out for the Hockey Championship THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH IN TRACK ATHLETICS Or A Long Run that Won THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH IN WINTER SPORTS Or Stirring Doings on Skates and Iceboats 12mo. Illustrated. Handsomely bound in cloth, with cover design and wrappers in colors. Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York * * * * * * THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS SERIES BY VICTOR APPLETON UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS. Moving pictures and photo plays are famous the world over, and in this line of books the reader is given a full description of how the films are made--the scenes of little dramas, indoors and out, trick pictures to satisfy the curious, soul-stirring pictures of city affairs, life in the Wild West, among the cowboys and Indians, thrilling rescues along the seacoast, the daring of picture hunters in the jungle among savage beasts, and the great risks run in picturing conditions in a land of earthquakes. The volumes teem with adventures and will be found interesting from first chapter to last. THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE WEST THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LAND THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AND THE FLOOD THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS UNDER THE SEA THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE WAR FRONT THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON FRENCH BATTLEFIELDS MOVING PICTURE BOYS' FIRST SHOWHOUSE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT SEASIDE PARK MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON BROADWAY THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS' OUTDOOR EXHIBITION THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS' NEW IDEA Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York * * * * * * THE FAMOUS ROVER BOYS SERIES BY ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) OVER THREE MILLION COPIES SOLD OF THIS SERIES Uniform Style of Binding. Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR THE ROVER BOYS IN NEW YORK THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA THE ROVER BOYS IN BUSINESS THE ROVER BOYS ON A TOUR THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL THE ROVER BOYS ON SNOWSHOE ISLAND THE ROVER BOYS UNDER CANVAS THE ROVER BOYS ON A HUNT THE ROVER BOYS IN THE LAND OF LUCK THE ROVER BOYS AT BIG HORN RANCH THE ROVER BOYS AT BIG BEAR LAKE THE ROVER BOYS SHIPWRECKED Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York * * * * * * THE PUTNAM HALL STORIES Companion Stories to the Famous Rover Boys Series By ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS. Being the adventures of lively young fellows at a Military Academy. Open air sports have always been popular with boys and these stories that mingle adventure with fact will appeal to every manly boy. THE MYSTERY OF PUTNAM HALL Or The School Chums' Strange Discovery The particulars of the mystery and the solution of it are very interesting reading. CAMPING OUT DAYS AT PUTNAM HALL Or The Secret of the Old Mill A story full of vim and vigor, telling what the cadets did during the summer encampment, including a visit to a mysterious old mill, said to be haunted. The book has a wealth of fun in it. THE REBELLION AT PUTNAM HALL Or The Rival Runaways The boys had good reasons for running away during Captain Putnam's absence. They had plenty of fun and several queer adventures. THE CHAMPIONS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Bound to Win Out In this volume the Cadets of Putnam Hall show what they can do in various keen rivalries on the athletic field and elsewhere. There is one victory which leads to a most unlooked-for discovery. THE CADETS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Good Times in School and Out The cadets are lively, flesh-and-blood fellows, bound to make friends from the start. There are some keen rivalries, in school and out, and something is told of a remarkable midnight feast and a hazing with an unexpected ending. THE RIVALS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Fun and Sport Afloat and Ashore It is a lively, rattling, breezy story of school life in this country, written by one who knows all about its pleasures and its perplexities, its glorious excitements, and its chilling disappointments. Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York * * * * * * THE RAILROAD SERIES By ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of the Radio Boys, Etc. Illustrated. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Every Volume Complete in Itself. In this line of books there is revealed the whole workings of a great American railroad system. There are adventures in abundance--railroad wrecks, dashes through forest fires, the pursuit of a "wildcat" locomotive, the disappearance of a pay car with a large sum of money on board--but there is much more than this--the intense rivalry among railroads and railroad men, the working out of running schedules, the getting through "on time" in spite of all obstacles, and the manipulation of railroad securities by evil men who wish to rule or ruin. RALPH OF THE ROUND HOUSE; Or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man. RALPH IN THE SWITCH TOWER; Or, Clearing the Track. RALPH ON THE ENGINE; Or, The Young Fireman of the Limited Mail. RALPH ON THE OVERLAND EXPRESS; Or, The Trials and Triumphs of a Young Engineer. RALPH, THE TRAIN DISPATCHER; Or, The Mystery of the Pay Car. RALPH ON THE ARMY TRAIN; Or, The Young Railroader's Most Daring Exploit. RALPH ON THE MIDNIGHT FLYER; Or, The Wreck at Shadow Valley. RALPH AND THE MISSING MAIL POUCH; Or, The Stolen Government Bonds. GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK 
28735	----	[Illustration: He sprang to the instrument table, seized and adjusted a headpiece, pulled a transmitter to him, he began calling. (_Radio Boys With the Revenue Guards_) _Page 140_] THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE REVENUE GUARDS By GERALD BRECKENRIDGE Author of "The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border," "The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty," "The Radio Boys' Search for the Inca's Treasure," "The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition." [Illustration: Frontispiece] A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York THE RADIO BOYS SERIES A Series of Stories for Boys of All Ages By GERALD BRECKENRIDGE The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty The Radio Boys with the Revenue Guards The Radio Boys' Search for the Inca's Treasure The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition Copyright, 1922 By A. L. BURT COMPANY THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE REVENUE GUARDS Made in "U. S. A." CHAPTER I TWO MYSTERIES "Not much like last summer, is it, Jack?" "Not much, Frank." "No Mexican bandits. No Chinese bad men. No dens in Chinatown. Say, Jack, remember how you felt when we were licked in our attempt to escape from that dive out in San Francisco? Boy, that was the time when things looked mighty blue. Jack?" No answer. "Jack?" In a louder tone. Still no answer. Frank turned around impatiently from where he lounged in the open doorway of the radio station, and faced his chum at the receiver. "Oh, listening-in," he exclaimed, and fell silent. Facing about, he gazed southward to where, less than a mile away, sparkled in the bright July sunshine the clear waters of the open Atlantic. Frank Merrick was thinking of the adventures crowded into the lives of himself and his two chums, Jack Hampton and Bob Temple, during their summer vacation the previous year. All three boys were sons of wealthy parents and lived on country estates at the far end of Long Island. Jack's mother was dead. Frank who was an orphan, lived with the Temples. All had attended Harrington Hall Military Academy, but Jack, a year older and a class ahead of his chums, had graduated the previous spring and already had spent his Freshman year at Yale. The previous year Jack had gone to New Mexico with his father, an engineer, who was then superintendent in charge of field operations of a syndicate of independent oil operators. Mr. Hampton had been captured by Mexican rebels, and rescued by the boys, for Frank and Bob with Mr. Temple had joined Jack after his father's loss. Later Mr. Temple had taken the boys on to San Francisco with him, and there they had become involved in the plottings of a gang of Chinese and white men, smuggling coolies into the country in violation of the Exclusion Act. It is not to be wondered at that Frank, dreaming of those adventurous days as he lounged in the doorway, felt a twinge of regret at what promised to be a dull vacation by comparison. It was true, he thought, they had everything to make them happy and keep them interested, however. Here was the powerful radio station built by Mr. Hampton under government license to use an 1,800 meter wave length, for purposes of trans-oceanic experiment. Then, too, Frank and Bob jointly owned a powerful all-metal plane, equipped with radio, and adapted for land or water flying. Besides, there was the new and powerful speed boat bought for the three of them this summer by Mr. Hampton and Mr. Temple. And their homes were admirably located for vacationing, too. On the far end of Long Island, miles from another human habitation, with dense woods, miles of lonely beach, and the open sea--all at their command. Well, Frank thought, after all it might not be so exciting a summer as the last, yet the three of them ought to be able to have a pretty good time. An exclamation of anger from Jack caused Frank to face about. His chum had taken the receiver from his head. "That interference again?" asked Frank. "Yes," replied Jack, rising and joining his chum in the doorway. "Oh, there comes Bob," he added, pointing to a tall, broad figure swinging over the top of a low sandhill from the beach. Frank's glance followed in the direction Jack indicated. Although Bob was still distant there was a purposefulness about his stride and about the way he waved a response to their greetings that caught his chum's attention. "Bob's got something on his mind," he said, with conviction. "Wonder what it is?" "Maybe, he found something, hiking along the beach." "Maybe, he did," agreed Frank. "I didn't feel like hitting it up with him this morning, felt kind of lazy, as if I had spring fever. It would be just my luck to have him make a discovery on the one morning I wasn't along with him." Bob's figure disappeared in a fold in the sandhills, and Frank remembering Jack's disgust over interference in the radio receivers, began to question him about it while waiting for Bob to arrive. "What was it like this time, Jack?" he asked. "Just the same, only worse," answered Jack. "Tune up to 1,375 meters for receiving and then comes that snarling, whining, shrieking sound. It's steady, too. If it were dot and dash stuff, I might be able to make something out of it. But somebody somewhere is sending a continuous wave, at a meter length, too, that is practically never used. From 1,100 meters to 1,400 meters, you know, is reserved and unused wave territory." "I wonder what it can be," said Frank. Bob by now had approached within calling distance, and he was so excited that he began to run. "What's the matter?" called Frank. "Somebody chasing you?" asked Jack, as the big fellow ploughed through the sand and halted before them. Bob grinned tantalizingly. "What would you give to know?" "At him, boys. At him," cried Jack, making a flying tackle. His arms closed about Bob's waist. At the same time, Frank who had been standing to one side, dived in. His grip tightened about Bob's legs below the knees. All three lads rolled over in the sand in a laughing, struggling heap. Presently, Jack and Frank bestrode the form of their big chum and Frank, who sat on his chest, gripped Bob's crisply curling hair. "Now will you tell?" he demanded in mock ferocity. "If you don't----" "All right, you big bully," answered Bob. "Why don't you pick on a fellow your size?" With which remark, he gave a mighty heave--as Frank afterwards described it "like a whale with a tummyache"--and Frank and Jack went sprawling. Then he stood upright, brushing the sand from his khaki walking clothes. "Oh, is that you down there?" he asked. "Why, where did you come from?" Then, as Frank made a clutch for his ankle, he brushed him aside and sat down on the sand: "Say, listen, cut out the fooling. I've got something to tell you fellows." Bob was so plainly excited that his chums were impressed. Scrambling up they seated themselves beside him. "Fire away," said Jack. "What would you say to my finding the tracks of a peg-legged man coming up out of the sea, crossing the sands of Starfish Cove and disappearing into the trees beyond there?" The inlet which Bob thus referred to was some three miles distant, with a patch of timber some twenty yards back from the water and a ring of low sandhills behind the woods. "A peg-legged man?" said Frank. "That certainly sounds piratical. Go on. Your imagination is working well to-day." "Did he arrive in a boat?" asked Jack. Bob nodded. "Yes. I found where the boat had been run up on the sand. But--he didn't leave. The boat went away without him. He disappeared inland, and there were no tracks marking his return." Jack whistled. "Whew. Did you follow?" "Did I follow? Huh. You can just bet I did follow. And, say, fellows----" "What?" "I know now where that strange interference in our radio receivers comes from." "Is that so?" demanded Jack, excitedly. "It was cutting up didoes just a few minutes ago, just before you arrived. Had been for some time, too." "Well," said Bob, "that's not to be wondered at. For when I followed Peg Leg's tracks through the trees I discovered a radio station tucked away in a hollow behind the timber, with sandhills hiding it on the landward side. I watched for a while from behind a tree, but couldn't see anybody. Then I hustled here to tell you fellows about it." Puzzled, the trio regarded each other in silence. Presently Jack spoke. "Look here, fellows. There's something queer about this. A mysterious radio station, hidden away, that sends a continuous wave on a hitherto unused wave length. This has been going on for a week. What does it mean? Then there is this man, this Peg Leg, whom Bob discovers arriving from the sea." "Let's go together and investigate," cried Frank, jumping to his feet. "I'm with you," declared Bob, also arising. "I would have gone up to the station and done that very thing, by myself, but--I don't know--there was something about it all--something sinister." "Wait a minute, you fellows," said Jack, also springing upright. "We can't go putting our heads into trouble recklessly. Bob's good sense prompted him when he refrained from pushing up to that radio station by himself. There is something sinister about this. That place is isolated, there are no roads near it, nobody ever hikes along that beach except us. How did the station ever come to be built? Why, the material and supplies must have been brought by boat. They couldn't have been transported overland very well." "What shall we do, though, Jack?" asked Frank, impatiently. "You can't reasonably expect to have a thing like this rubbed under our noses without our going ahead and investigating." There was so much plaintiveness in his voice, as of a child from whom a toy was being withheld, that Bob and Jack both burst into laughter. Then Jack sobered. "Tell you what I think," he said. "It's only mid-afternoon. Let's get out your plane, and take a look at this place from the air." "I guess the old boat is working all right now," said Frank. "How about it, Bob? You know we haven't been up for two or three weeks, Jack. Bob's been tinkering with it. When I last saw him at work, he seemed to have the engine entirely dismantled. Looked to me as if he had enough parts for three planes. Did you get it together again, Bob?" "Yes," said Bob. "And she'll fly now, boy, believe me. Well, come on," he added, starting for the hangar, not far distant but out of sight behind the sandhills. The others followed. CHAPTER II A STRANGE AIRPLANE APPEARS From the Hampton radio station to the hangar on the Temple estate where Frank and Bob kept their plane was a short jaunt, and the ground soon was covered. Then Bob unlocked the big double doors and rolled them back, and the three trundled the plane out to the skidway where Jack spun the propeller while Bob manipulated the controls. As the machine got under way, Jack ran alongside and was helped in by Frank. Out over the sandy landing field trundled the plane rising so quickly that Bob nodded with satisfaction. The loving work he had put in on the machine had not been wasted. It was in fine flying condition. They were not far from the coast and in a very short time were flying over the water, whereupon Bob made a sweep to the right and the plane headed westward. The Atlantic rocked gently below, serene under a smiling sun and with only the merest whisper of a breeze caressing it. On the southern horizon a plume or two of smoke, only faintly discernible, marked where great liners were standing in for the distant metropolis. To the north, far away, showed a sail or two, of fishing craft or coastwise schooner. An exclamation escaped Frank and he leaned sidewise, gripping Jack by the arm and pointing with his free hand. But Jack had a radio receiver clamped on his head and was frowning. He glanced only hastily in the direction indicated by Frank, then shut his eyes as if in an effort at concentration. Frank continued to gaze, then bent down and unlashed a pair of binoculars from a pocket in the pit and, putting the glasses to his eyes, threw back his head and began scanning the sky. After staring long minutes, he hastily put aside the glasses, lifted the radio transmitter strapped to his chest and spoke in it to Bob: "Bob, there's a plane overhead. So high you can't see it with the naked eye. But I spotted it before it rose too high, and followed it with the glasses. The fellow's up where the sun plays tricks with your eyesight. And, Bob, I've got a hunch he's watching us. There's Starfish Cove below us now. Keep right on flying. Don't turn inland." Bob nodded, and the plane continued its way westward offshore. Frank again took up the glasses and searched the sky, gradually increasing the focal radius. An exclamation from Frank and a hurried request in the transmitter presently reached Bob's ears: "Shut her off, Bob, and let's land on the water. Quick. I'll explain in a minute." Obediently, big Bob shut off the engine, and the plane coasted on a long slant to a safe landing some hundreds of yards out from the sandy, deserted shore. Bob and Jack snatched the headpieces off, and turned inquiringly to their chum. "Here," cried Frank, pressing the glasses into Bob's hands. "Take a look. That plane is landing way back there, and I believe it is at Starfish Cove." Bob was too late to see if the situation was as Frank described, however. Putting up the glasses, he turned to his chum. "Tell us about it," he said. "Yes," said Jack. "I heard what you told Bob, but not having the glasses I couldn't see. At first, when you punched me, besides, I was thinking over that business of the strange interference with our radio and wondering what it could be. So I didn't get to see. I suppose you were trying to point out this other plane to me then?" Frank nodded. "Yes," he said, "it was just a tiny speck at that time, but I could see it with the naked eye. However, it disappeared immediately afterwards." "Well, what made you believe the other plane was watching us?" inquired Bob. Frank laughed in half-embarrassed fashion. "Oh, one of my hunches," he said. His two chums grinned understandingly at each other. It was a recognized fact among them that Frank was super-sensitive and frequently, as a result, received sharp impressions concerning people and events which were unsupported by evidence at the time, but which later proved to be correct. Frank was the slightest of the trio, of only medium height but wiry build, while Bob and Jack both were six feet tall and Bob, besides, had a broad and powerful frame. "Seeing spooks again?" chaffed Bob. Immediately, they became more serious as Frank, ignoring the banter, leaned forward and made his proposal: "That plane landed, and I believe it landed at Starfish Cove. Let's fly back and take a look. See what's it like, at any rate." "Good idea," approved Jack. Bob had been taxying about slowly since landing, in order to keep the engine going and the propeller slowly revolving. Now he picked up speed, straightened out, shifted the lifting plane, and the machine shot forward, skirled over the water and presently took the air. For some minutes they flew in silence, at no great height, and a little distance out from the coast. Bob's attention was devoted to the plane, but Frank and Jack scanned the shore with eager eyes. Presently they saw what they were looking for. A strange plane rode in the lazy swell offshore in Starfish Cove. There was nobody aboard. Not a soul was in sight on land. The little stretch of sandy beach, between the two horns of the cove, stretched untenanted back to the thick fringe of trees. Bob swooped so low the plane almost skimmed the water, and all three obtained a good view of the stranger, before once more Bob soared aloft and forged ahead. Looking back, Frank trained the glasses on the scene. But nobody appeared from among the trees, and, far as they could determine, they were unobserved. They made a quick run to their own landing field, descended and put the plane away. Not until the doors were closed and locked did they sit down on the skidway outside the hangar to discuss what they had seen. There had been remarks made by all after they had seen the strange plane at close range and on the hasty trip home, but all had been too busy with their own thoughts for extended discussion. Discovery of the plane had altered their original plans to fly over the secret radio station. They had decided not to advertise their presence as, if Frank was correct in his surmise that the other plane had been watching them, their return would create suspicion and put the mysterious strangers on guard against them. "They may be on a perfectly legitimate enterprise, whoever they are," Jack said, as all three took seats on the skidway. "And we may be fools for butting in where we have no business to be," said Bob. "That your idea?" "Yes." "But look here," said Frank. "I have the feeling that there's something about all this business that isn't open and aboveboard. I, for one, vote that we do our best to find out what is going on." Jack sat silent for several moments. "That isn't what concerns me at the present moment, after all," he said. "Whether these people with their strange plane and their secret radio are on legitimate business or not, doesn't interest me so much. What puzzles me--and I reckon it puzzles the rest of you, too--is the design of that plane." The others nodded vigorously. "What a tiny thing," was Frank's comment. "I was busy and couldn't see much," supplemented Bob. "But what impressed me was her short hood. Why, she looked as if she had no engine at all." "That's right," agreed Frank. "I never saw a plane like it. And I can't recall any designs of that nature, either. It must be a foreign-built plane, one of those little one-man things the Germans and French have been building." Jack shook his head, puzzled. "There's something strange about it," he said, "a little thing like that, with practically no engine space. Another thing that you fellows want to remember, too, is that probably it has been flying about here for some time, yet we have never heard it. Now, down here the sound of most planes would travel far, in this quiet and secluded place, where there are no competing noises." "Why do you say it has been flying about here for some time?" asked Bob. "Well, the familiarity with which the aviator landed shows he's been at Starfish Cove before. Evidently, after landing he struck inland to that secret radio station, because we saw no sign of him." "We haven't been up in the air for three weeks," said Frank. "That plane might easily have come and gone in that time without our seeing it. But, surely, as Jack says, we would have heard it at some time or other. Haven't either of you heard the sound of a plane lately?" he appealed to the others. "I know I haven't." Bob and Jack both shook their heads in negation. "No planes ever come out this way," Bob said. "They fly south or north of us, but not out here. I haven't heard anything." Jack rose and stretched. "Well, I, for one, vote that we do not pursue our investigations into this mystery by going back and, perhaps, getting peppered with gunshot." "But, Jack," protested Bob, the impetuous, "we want to know what's going on. You can't have a mystery dumped right in your own dooryard without digging into it." Frank was thoughtful. "That's true, Bob, old thing," he said. "Just the same, I agree with Jack. What do you say to laying the matter before Uncle George and Mr. Hampton at dinner? Jack and his father are coming over to our house to-night, you know." "Good," said Jack. "We can put it up to them, and, perhaps, they will know something about the man who owns that land around Starfish Cove, where this secret radio is located." Big Bob grumbled. Delay irked his soul. "All right, you old grumbler," laughed Frank. "Come on, I'll give you some action. We have several hours of good daylight left before dinnertime. I'll take you on at tennis. Della and I will play you and Jack, and we won't give you time to worry about anything." Della was Bob's sister, two years younger than he. Frank, whose parents were dead and who lived with the Temples, referring to Mr. Temple, his guardian, as "Uncle George," was very fond of her. The others joshed him about Della frequently. Bob took occasion to do so now, as the three walked away from the hangar toward the Temple home and tennis courts. "Huh," he said, "you'll be looking at your partner so often you won't be able to play. Why, you won't even be good practice for Jack and me." CHAPTER III THE HAUNTED HOUSE Della was lithe-limbed, quick of eye and strong of wrist, a born tennis player. As for Frank, tennis was the one sport at which he could excel his chums. The result was that, despite the strong game played by Jack and Bob, Frank and Della won two sets, 7-5, 8-6. Mr. Hampton appeared on the scene when the second set stood at six-all, bringing with him an alert, thin-faced man of middle age, clad in the uniform of a colonel in the United States Engineers. Mr. Temple with his wife emerged from the house to greet their guests, and all four were interested spectators of the two concluding games which were bitterly contested, went to deuce a number of times, but finally were won by Della and Frank. "Well, Jack," said Mr. Hampton, jokingly, as the players joined the spectators at the conclusion of the set; "I suppose you were just being chivalrous and that's why Della beat you." Jack grinned. He and Bob knew they would be in for a certain amount of twigging because of their defeat, but he knew how to take it in good part. "Chivalrous? Oh, yes," he scorned. "We'd have beaten that pair of kids if we had been able. But it couldn't be done. Della's got a serve there that would put Mlle. Lenglen to shame. As for Frank, the boy goes crazy when he plays tennis." A general laugh greeted his generous praise of his opponents. Then Mr. Hampton turned to his companion and introduced him to the players as "Colonel Graham." After that the players hurried away to brush up and prepare for dinner. "Shall we speak of our discoveries this afternoon?" asked Frank, brushing his hair while big Bob peered over his shoulder into the mirror, adjusting his tie. "Why not?" asked Bob. "Well, on account of this Colonel Graham. Who is he, by the way, Jack?" Jack did not know. He recalled, or believed he recalled, that his father had spoken of a friend named Colonel Graham who was a famous engineer. "But if he's a friend of Dad's," added Jack, with calm confidence, "you can count on it that he's a good sport. It will be safe to speak about our discoveries before him." At dinner it developed that Colonel Graham was, indeed, a friend of Mr. Hampton. They had been classmates years before at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. During the World War, Colonel Graham had obtained a reserve commission in the Engineers and, at the conclusion of hostilities, while thousands of other officers were being demobilized, he had been given a commission in the regular army because of his distinguished record. At dinner, the older people took the lead in the conversation, while the boys and Della were content to listen unless addressed. Colonel Graham was a brilliant conversationalist, and once he became launched on a series of war stories there was no time for the boys to interrupt, nor had they any inclination. He had been one of the handful of American engineers impressed into a make-shift army by General Byng to stop the Germans when they smashed through at Cambrai, and his gripping account of those days and nights of superhuman effort to hold back the enemy until reinforcements arrived, had the boys neglecting their dinner and sitting on the edges of their chairs. Mr. Hampton was a radio enthusiast. It was his interest in radio development, in fact, which had caused him to build the station on his estate, for purposes of trans-oceanic experiment. Eventually, therefore, the talk came around to the subject of radio. Colonel Graham was well-informed, and he told of several army officers then at work on behalf of the government at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, experimenting with radio-controlled automobiles, tanks and water craft. An exclamation from Jack drew attention to him and covered him with confusion. "Well, Jack," said his father, in mild reproof. And he looked expectantly at his son as if awaiting an explanation. Frank came to his rescue. His quick mind also had grasped the significance of Colonel Graham's remark. "I know what Jack is thinking of, Mr. Hampton," he said. "He's thinking of a radio-controlled airplane." Colonel Graham smiled. "Oh, yes," he said, tolerantly. "I mentioned only that these government experts were experimenting with radio-controlled automobiles, tanks and water craft. Of course, airplanes are being studied, too. Is that what you mean?" he asked, looking inquiringly at Jack. "I understand you lads are interested in flying." "No, sir," answered Jack, flushing a bit. "To tell you the truth, we saw a plane to-day of strange design. And we had reason to believe it was controlled by radio. I was puzzled at the time. I didn't think of radio controls. But your remarks about the officers at Massachusetts Tech. were illuminating. I see now that this plane must have been radio-controlled." Frank and Bob nodded approval. Their eyes were shining. Mr. Hampton, Mr. Temple and Colonel Graham showed startled interest. Della leaned forward close to Frank and looked at him reproachfully, a hand on his arm. "And you never told me a thing about it," she said. "Didn't have any time to tell you," whispered Frank, in an undertone. Mr. Hampton was speaking. "Where did you see this plane, Jack?" "Well, Dad," said Jack, "it was this way." Then he paused and looked at his chums. "Shall I tell?" "Go ahead, Jack," urged Frank. Bob nodded approval. With that Jack told as briefly as possible the circumstances of their day's adventure, and also spoke of the recent interference in their radio receivers by a sharp and continuous dash sounded over a wave length of 1,375 meters. A frown of growing concentration fastened on Mr. Temple's brow as Jack proceeded. When it was apparent that Jack had concluded, Mr. Temple leaned forward. "I suspected there was something mysterious about that man," he said. "What man?" asked Mr. Hampton. The others at the table looked blank. "Why, the chap who bought the old Brownell house and property. You know the place. There are about 750 acres of land, mainly timber. This inlet, Starfish Cove as the boys call it, is on the property. And there is an old house back in the trees. It is isolated, there is no habitation near, and the house has a bad name to boot. Some of the old-timers in the settlement at the crossroads declare the place is haunted." "So that is part of the Brownell property?" asked Mr. Hampton. The boys looked at each other. Della surreptitiously squeezed Frank's hand beneath the table. This promised to be interesting. The Brownell place was one of the delightful bugaboos of their childhood. Old Captain Brownell, a Yankee whaling skipper, was long since dead. The house had stood boarded up and untenanted for years. Tradition declared he had committed acts of piracy on the high seas during the period of his whaling voyages and that, having retired uncaught, he had come down to this secluded nook and built the great house in order to hide there from some of his old associates whom he had cheated, but that they had found and slain him. It was his ghost, it was said in the countryside, which haunted the place. "Yes," replied Mr. Temple, in answer to Mr. Hampton's question. "Starfish Cove and all that land around there, where Bob found this secret radio plant located, is part of the Brownell property." "And who is this man who bought it?" asked Bob, putting the question in all minds. "I don't even know his name," confessed Mr. Temple. "But what I do recall are some things told me by McKay, a real estate dealer in the city who had the Brownell property on his list for a long time. He said this chap who bought the place impressed him as a man who only recently had come into the possession of money, and he wondered what he wanted with the Brownell property. The newly-rich man usually wants to make a splurge, he doesn't want to buy a country home away off somewhere, in an out of the way nook, where people can't see him. He wants to be seen. "This man, on the contrary, apparently wanted seclusion--and he wanted a place in a secluded spot on the seacoast. That was his impressing requirement. So McKay sold him the Brownell place. "Afterward, said McKay, he learned the new owner had put up signs all around the property, warning away trespassers. McKay said he even understood guards were to be employed to keep out intruders." "On the landward side of that old Brownell place, Dad, they've built a high fence of heavy strands of wire on steel poles," said Bob. "I bumped into it the other day. They haven't quite reached the shore with it, however, although I suppose they intend to." "Well, this is interesting," said Mr. Hampton. "I wonder----" He paused, looking thoughtful. "What, Dad?" asked Jack. "Oh," said his father. "New York undoubtedly is the center of powerful groups of men seeking to evade the prohibition law by bringing liquor illicitly into the country. Much of the liquor is brought by ship from the Bahamas and the West Indies, and then smuggled ashore in various ways. Perhaps, the old Brownell house, built by a pirate of yesterday, is the home of a modern pirate, who directs activities from this secluded spot." CHAPTER IV ON THE TRAIL After a rather late breakfast next morning for, it being vacation, the boys were under no necessity to rise early and being healthy lads took full measure of sleep, Jack appeared at the Temple home, and the three went into conference. Mr. Temple, head of a big exporting firm, had left early for the city by automobile. Mr. Hampton, reported Jack, had done likewise with his guest. "Fellows," said Jack, "when I got up this morning, it was with the feeling that this mystery was too good to be overlooked." Frank's eyes brightened. "Just the way I feel about it," he declared. "I told Bob when we were dressing that we were in luck, because right at the moment it was beginning to look as if we were in for a dull summer, Fortune went and put an exciting mystery on our doorstep." Big Bob yawned. "Oh, you fellows don't know when you have a good thing," he said. "I suppose you want to go and stir up a lot of trouble as you did last summer. Why can't you let well enough alone?" They were in the sitting room shared by Bob and Frank, and the latter picking up a handy pillow promptly smothered his big chum with it and then sat on him. "Don't mind him, Jack," he panted, in the resulting tussle. "He's always like this when he gets up in the morning." A spirited engagement followed, from which Jack discreetly kept apart. Presently, when the couch was a wreck and Bob had Frank over his knees and was preparing to belabor him, Jack interfered. "Listen to reason, you fellows," he pleaded. "I've got a proposal." "Shall we listen to the proposal, Frank?" asked Bob, now fully awake, and grinning broadly. "Or shall we muss him up a bit?" "'Ark to his Royal 'Ighness," shouted Frank, his equilibrium restored. "'Ear. 'Ear." "Very well," said Bob, addressing Jack with mock solemnity. "My friend says you are to be spared. But, mind you, it must be a good proposal. Now, out with it." Jack, ensconced in a deep easy chair, uncrossed his knees and leaned forward. "You remember what was said last night about the operations of the liquor smugglers in and around New York?" he inquired. The others nodded. After the conversation the previous night had been directed by the revelations of the boys regarding their mysterious neighbors, and by Mr. Hampton's comments on the operations of liquor smugglers, the boys had learned from the older men surprising facts regarding the situation. Since the adoption of prohibition, they had been told, liquor-smuggling had grown to such an extent that a state of war between the smugglers and the government forces practically existed. Single vessels and even fleets were engaged by the smugglers to bring liquor up from the West Indies and land it on the Long Island and New Jersey coasts, and to combat these operations the government had formed a so-called "Dry-Navy" comprising an unknown number of speedy submarine chasers. A number of authentic incidents known to Colonel Graham and to Mr. Hampton and Mr. Temple had been related in which the daring of the smugglers had discomfited the government men, in one case a cargo of liquor having been landed at a big Manhattan dock by night and removed in trucks while a sub chaser patrolling the waterfront passed the scene of operations several times, unsuspecting. There were other stories, too, of how the tables were turned, an occasion being cited when a sub chaser put a shot across the bow of what appeared to be a Gloucester fishing schooner which thereupon showed a clean pair of heels and tried to escape but was run down and captured inside the three-mile limit and proved to contain a $30,000 cargo of West Indian rum. Some of these facts, of course, had appeared in the newspapers. Others had not been made public. But, far from New York City as they were and not interested in reading about news events, for they had their own interest to engage their attention, the boys were not familiar with the situation. What they had been told came as a tremendously interesting revelation. "Very well," continued Jack, as Bob and Frank prepared to listen; "remembering what we heard last night about the liquor smugglers, it certainly seems likely, doesn't it, that the man who has bought the haunted Brownell house, built a secret radio plant and introduced a radio-controlled airplane into our exclusive neighborhood, may be involved with the smugglers?" "Righto, Jack," Frank declared. "But what's your proposal?" "Simply that we do a little investigating on our own account." "If you intend to propose that we go nosing around the Brownell place, trying to spy and snoop, I vote against it," declared Bob. "I ran away yesterday, after discovering that radio plant, because I felt danger in the air. With a wire fence built to keep out intruders and with New York gunmen posted in the woods, I have a feeling it wouldn't be healthy to do any investigating. If I were tiny as Frank here"--reaching over to rumple his chum's hair--"it might do. They couldn't hit me. But, as it is, I'd make a fine target." Jack smiled and nodded agreement. "Agreed on that," he said. "Dad always tells me it is only a foolhardy idiot who puts his head into danger unnecessarily. But that isn't the kind of investigating I had in mind." "Then what?" asked Frank. "Well, first of all, this is a fine day for flying," answered Jack, pointing out the open window, to where warm sunshine lay over the country and the sparkling sea in the distance. "You fellows lie abed so long. You haven't had a chance yet to see what an ideal day it is; warm, cloudless, and with hardly a trace of wind." "What's flying got to do with it?" asked Bob. "We saw yesterday about all we can see from the air. Any more flying over there will make somebody suspicious." "I was thinking of a little trip to Mineola," said Jack. "Then we can leave the old bus on the flying field there and motor into the city in an hour. Once in the city we might ask Mr. McKay, your father's real estate friend, who the fellow is who has bought the old Brownell house." "Then what, Hawkshaw?" "Oh, Bob, don't be such a grouch," protested Jack. "What if nothing comes of it? We'll have had a good trip, anyhow." Bob grinned. "I'm not grouching, Jack," he said. "Only I wanted to see what you had in mind. If it's just a flying trip you're after, well and good. I'm with you. The plane is limbered up since I worked it over, and yesterday's little spin gave me a taste for more, too. But if you are really intent on getting at the bottom of this mystery, I have a proposal, too. What's the matter with our hunting up the Secret Service men? Maybe they would be glad of our tip." "Good for you, old ice wagon," cried Frank, slapping his chum's broad shoulder. Jack likewise nodded approval. The previous summer the boys had been instrumental in thwarting the plots of an international gang on the California coast to smuggle Chinese coolies into the country in violation of the Chinese Exclusion Act. As a consequence, they had made the acquaintance of Inspector Burton of the Secret Service and had even been called to Washington to receive the personal thanks of the Chief for their service and to be introduced to the President. Their adventures during that exciting period are related in "The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty." "Very good," said Jack, bounding to his feet. "Come on, let's go. It's ten o'clock now. If we hurry, we can cover the sixty miles to Mineola, put up the plane, and be in the city by noon. That will give us two or three hours there, and we can be home easily in time for dinner." "All right," said Bob. "I'll tell Della where we are going, in case Mother isn't up yet. She had a bad headache, and may be staying in bed. You fellows go down to the hangar, and start getting out the plane. I'll join you right away." Jack and Frank hurried away, while Bob went to execute his mission. When he rejoined them at the hangar, the plane already was on the skidways. "You take the wheel going up, Bob," said Frank. "I'll pilot her home." The trip to Mineola flying field, where Bob and Frank and Mr. Temple as well had taken their flying lessons, was made without incident. Planning not to arouse the suspicions of anybody who might be on watch, Bob was careful to steer a course over the water a good mile out from Starfish Cove. Watching through the glass, Frank reported the little plane missing and no sign of life on the tiny beach or in the woods beyond where the radio plant was hidden. Mechanics at the flying field, who knew them, took the plane in charge when they alighted. Although they had planned to hire an automobile to take them into the city, they learned they were in time to catch an express train, and boarded it. After a fast run, they emerged from the train which had borne them through the tunnel under the East River and under Manhattan and ascended to the main waiting room of the Pennsylvania Terminal. The hour still lacked several minutes of noon. "I'm not particularly hungry," said Jack. "If you fellows feel the same way about it, suppose we defer luncheon until we have seen Mr. McKay. Probably we can catch him at his office now. But if we lunch first, there is no telling when we can get to see him. These business men take three or four hours for lunch lots of times." "Lead on," said Frank. "Do you know where his office is located?" "At Times Square," said Bob. "I've been there once with Dad. Come on. We'll take the Subway. It's only one station up the line." The three boys were familiar with the great city, having lived on Long Island all their lives. Although many miles distant from New York, they were frequent visitors. Crossing the big waiting room, they entered the West Side subway, and a few minutes later disembarked from an express train at the Times Square station. Mounting to the surface, Bob led the way to a towering office building. An express elevator shot them to the twentieth story, and there they entered the anteroom of a handsome suite of offices occupied by the J. B. McKay Realty Corporation, and inquired of the information clerk--a young woman--for the head of the firm. Here, however, they met disappointment. Mr. McKay was not in the city. "Mr. McKay's secretary is here, however," said the clerk, taking pity on their evident dismay. "Wait a moment and I'll call him." She spoke into the telephone receiver, and then nodded brightly. "Mr. Higginbotham will see you," she said. "He is in that corner office." Jack was undecided. He looked to his companions. "Shall we try him?" "May as well," said Frank. "Probably he can give us the information we want, just as well as Mr. McKay." Following directions, they entered a roomy office, furnished in walnut and with walnut panelling on the walls. Two big windows gave a commanding view up Broadway below and west to the Hudson river and the Jersey shore. A small, sharp-eyed man, with graying hair, immaculately dressed in gray, rose from the desk as they entered and regarded them inquiringly. Jack wasted no time on preliminaries, but after introducing himself and his companions, stated their mission. They wanted to know who was the man who had bought the old Brownell place, and what was known about him. His name? Mr. Higginbotham could not recall it. He doubted whether there was a record of it at hand. The old Brownell place? Yes, he remembered the property. Why were the young men interested. Sharp-eyed Frank detected a slight start at Jack's query. Moreover, he thought there was an air of guarded watchfulness about Higginbotham, for no apparent reason. That mysterious sixth sense which so often had been of value in the past now came to the fore. Before Jack could reply, he took over the conversation. "Oh," said he, lightly, "being neighbors, we were just curious, we wondered who had bought the haunted house. That's all. My uncle, Mr. Temple, is a friend of Mr. McKay. So, being near, we thought we would stop in and ask him. That's all. Sorry to have bothered you. Good day." And taking the bewildered Jack and Bob by their arms, he gently propelled them to the door. CHAPTER V PURSUING THE "RADIO" PLANE Not before they had reached the street did Frank vouchsafe an explanation of his amazing conduct. Then Jack, refusing to be put aside any more, gripped him by the arm and swung him about so that they stood face to face. "Out with it, now," he demanded. "Why did you hurry us away from that office? And why didn't you tell Mr. Higginbotham our reason for trying to discover something about this man who has taken the Brownell place?" Big Bob quizzically regarded his smaller companion. "Guess I know," he said. "Frank had another hunch. Didn't you?" "Yes," confessed Frank, "and that's about all I had to go on, too. But it was a strong one. Something inside of me kept saying that man Higginbotham wasn't to be trusted. There was a look in his eyes, watchful and cunning. And he made a little start when we asked him about the Brownell place. I don't know. There was nothing definite, nothing I can point out to you now. I feel almost ashamed of myself, as a matter of fact." Bob put an arm over his shoulder. "You needn't," he said. "Forget it. I'll put my faith in your hunches every time. Well, what'll we do now? Look up the Secret Service men, or have lunch first?" "Let's eat," said Jack. He was a bit out of sorts because his plan to pump Mr. McKay had miscarried. Bob who read him aright, grinned and slapped him resoundingly on the back. "How much money you got, old thing?" he asked. "I came without any. Do we eat at a Child's restaurant or at the Knickerbocker Grill." They stood on the corner of Broadway and Forty-second street, immediately in front of the Knickerbocker. Toward it Bob, who was fond of good eating, gazed with longing. "Too high-priced for my purse," said Jack. "Besides, we haven't the time to waste over eating there. Takes too long. We must be on our way. However, I can do you better than a lunch counter, so come on. I know a place around here on Forty-second street." Taking the lead, Jack led the way through the busy throng that congests traffic at Times Square at all hours of the day and practically all of the night, too. They turned in at a small restaurant on Forty-second street, and despatched lunch in double-quick time. During the course of the meal, Bob gave an exclamation. "I planned to call Dad and tell him we were in town and why," he said. "But it's too late now. He'll have gone out to lunch." Jack knew it would be impossible to reach his father by telephone. Mr. Hampton the night before had announced he planned to spend the day going over certain engineering plans with Colonel Graham, and Jack had only a vague idea where they would be in conference. "Now for the Secret Service men," said Jack, at conclusion of the meal. "Luckily I have a card of introduction from Inspector Burton in my purse. Also it gives the address--down on Park Row. Well, the Subway again. Only this time, the East Side branch to Brooklyn Bridge." Once more stemming the torrent of human traffic flowing along Forty-second street, the boys made their way eastward to the Grand Central station, boarded a southbound express train on the Subway tracks, and were whisked to their destination at lightning-like speed. Park Row also was crowded, the noon hour crowds of workers, from the towering skyscrapers of the financial district to the south, loitering in City Hall Park and sauntering up and down the thoroughfare to which the park gives its name. Jack and Bob felt their spirits react to the impulse of the busy life around them, but the sensitive Frank, who hated crowds, became peevish. He urged his companions to hurry. "Forget the sight-seeing," he said, "and let's move along. The quicker I'm out of this mass of humanity, the better pleased I'll be. These crowds of New Yorkers don't give a fellow a chance to take a deep breath for fear he'll crush in somebody else's ribs." "Here we are," said Jack, turning in at a tall office building, near lower Broadway, with old St. Paul's and its churchyard, filled now with loitering clerks spending their dinner hour among the graves, just across the way. Once more an express elevator whisked the trio skyward. At the fourteenth floor they alighted, made their way to an office, the glass door of which bore no lettering except the number "12," and entered. "Inspector Condon, please," said Jack, to a fat young man, smoking a long black cigar, who sat in his shirtsleeves at a desk, reading through a mass of papers. The latter got to his feet, and held out his hand. He had a jolly face which broke into a grin of welcome, as he extended his hand. "That's me," he said. Jack was rather taken aback. He had not expected to meet so young a man in a position of such responsibility. This man could not have been more than 26 or 28 years of age. Passing over his astonishment, however, Jack introduced himself and his companions and then extended the card of introduction given him a year before by Inspector Burton, when they left Washington, but which heretofore had not been presented. "So," said Inspector Condon, reading the note on the back of the card; "you are the three chaps who made such a stir in that business in California? Mighty glad to meet you. Sit down. What can I do for you?" "That remains to be seen," said Jack. "However, we have run into something rather curious, and we thought you might be interested. So if you have time to listen, we'll spin the yarn." "All the time in the world, friend," said Inspector Condon, genially. "Shoot." Thereupon, Jack proceeded to relate the story of the secret radio plant, the mysterious plane probably controlled by radio and thus able to operate in silence, and the facts as they had obtained them from Mr. Temple regarding the occupant of the old Brownell place known as the "haunted house." "Ha," said Inspector Condon; "if that fellow is a liquor smuggler, the 'haunted house' has spirits in it, all right, all right." And he laughed uproariously at his own joke. "But, now, boys," he added, sobering; "an investigation into this matter would be somewhat outside of my province. However, I'll place this information before the prohibition enforcement officials, who will be glad to get it, I can assure you. Let me thank you, in behalf of the government, for coming to us with your information." After a few more moments of conversation, during which Inspector Condon made a note of their names and addresses, the boys left. At the door, Jack turned for a last word. "If we can be of any help," he said, "call on us. We have a radio plant and an airplane at our command, and, besides, are admirably situated near the scene." "Fretting for more adventure, are you?" asked Inspector Condon, clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, that's a kind offer, and I'll pass it along to the proper people to handle this matter. If they need any help, you'll hear from them shortly. I expect they won't let any grass grow under their feet on this case." When once more they stood on the sidewalk, Jack's gaze lifted to the clock in the tower of St. Paul's. Two o'clock. "Well, we haven't gotten very far with our adventure," he said, a bit dispiritedly. "I thought we would start something that would give us a bit of excitement. But, apparently, all we have done has been to let the whole business slip out of our hands." "Oh, forget it," said Frank irritably. The noise, the heat and the bustle of the city had irritated his nerves. "Come on. Let's get out of this. I hate all this hurly-burly. If we take the Subway over to the Flatbush Avenue terminal of the Long Island Railroad, we'll just about have time to make an express to Mineola." The roar of the Subway was not conducive to conversation, and little further was said until the trio boarded the train in Brooklyn, and pulled out for the short run to Mineola. Early editions of several afternoon newspapers were purchased at the terminal newsstand, and the boys settled down to glance at the day's happenings when once ensconced in the train. Presently Frank, his irritation forgotten now that the city was being left behind, called the attention of his companions to a first page story under flaring headlines which read: RUM RUNNERS LAND BIG LIQUOR CARGO; ELUDE "DRY NAVY." "Say, I haven't been reading any of this stuff," said Frank. "But after what the men told us last night about the size of these operations, and with my interest aroused by developments at Starfish Cove, I'm beginning to see that this defiance of the prohibition law is just about the most stirring thing before the Nation to-day. At least, here on the Eastern seaboard, where these smugglers are organized and have a handy base in the West Indies." The others nodded agreement, and the conversation proceeded in similar vein until they tumbled from the train at Mineola. Speeding to the flying field in a taxi, they were soon aboard the plane. This time Frank took the wheel. And to the friendly farewells of the mechanics, they took off and began the homeward journey. After forty minutes of speedy flying, Bob, idly scanning the sky through the glass, focussed upon a tiny speck in the distance. All three had clamped on their radio receivers and hung the transmitters by straps across their shoulders. Speaking into the transmitter now, Bob announced: "I think that radio-controlled plane is flying away from us, out to sea, off to the right. I'm going to tune up to that 1,375-meter wave length, and we'll see if there's a continuous dash in the receivers." "All right," answered Jack, "but look out for your eardrums. The interference at that wave length is very sharp and you want to be ready to tune down at once, or your head will feel as if it were ready to burst." A moment later the high crashing shriek, with which Jack had become familiar of late, signalled in the receivers, and Bob promptly tuned down. "Wow," said he. "That's it, all right. That's the continuous dash which is being sent out from the secret radio plant to control that little plane. Let's keep it in sight, Frank, and see where it goes. Don't close in on it. Keep just about this distance. I can watch it through the glass, and I'll give you your bearings if you lose sight of it. Probably there is only one man aboard, and he won't have a glass, and won't know we are following him." "All right," responded Frank. "Here's where we'd turn toward shore. But we'll stick to his trail a while." With that he began edging the plane out to sea. CHAPTER VI A FALL INTO THE SEA Out over the shining sea flew the glistening all-metal plane, and the spirits of the boys lifted to the chase. The oldest fever of the blood known to man is that of the chase. It comes down to us from our prehistoric ancestors who lived by the chase, got their daily food by it, wooed and won by it, and fought their battles by it in that dim dawn of time when might was right and the law of tooth and claw was the only rede. Gone was the irritability that had possessed Frank in the noise and din, the crowding walls and swarming hordes of human beings, back in the city. Below him lay the broad Atlantic, from their height seeming smooth as a ball-room floor, with the surface calm and unruffled. No land was in sight ahead. The water stretched to infinity, over the edge of the world. For a wonder, not a sail broke that broad expanse due south, although to the west were several streamers of smoke where ships stood in for port, hull down on the far horizon, while closer at hand was a little dot which Bob, swinging the glasses, made out to be a four-masted schooner. It was a long distance off, ten or fifteen miles, judged Bob. The tiny plane was heading in that direction. Was it bearing away for the schooner? The question leaped into Bob's mind. He put it into spoken words, into the transmitter. "There's a schooner southwest," he said. "The plane is going in that direction. Bear up a trifle, Frank, and slow her down. Let's see whether the plane is heading for it." Frank slowed the engine and altered the course sufficiently to keep the plane in view on the new tack, but not to bring them so close to it as to arouse suspicion. In a few moments, all could see the tiny speck coasting down on a long slant and Bob, watching through the glasses, exclaimed excitedly: "The little fellow is going to land. There, he's on the water now. He's taxying close to the ship." "I'm going to climb," stated Frank, suiting action to word. "Good idea," said Jack. "Let me have the glasses a minute, Bob, will you?" Bob complied. "I don't believe they know of our presence," Jack presently declared. "Do you fellows consider the plane was forced to land? Is that how it happened to come down near the schooner? There doesn't seem to be any attempt to put out a boat and get the pilot." "Forced to land, my eye," said Bob, repossessing himself of the glasses. "Do you want to know what I think? I believe the pilot is holding a confab with the schooner. By Jiminy, that's right, too. And it's ended. He's taxying again, and starting to rise." Frank, at Bob's words, had swung away again to the south. After describing a long circle, which carried them so far aloft and so wide of the ship as to lose it from sight, he again turned the plane toward home. "I expect they never saw us, either from the schooner or the plane," Jack said. "There was never any indication of alarm. Of course, we were too far off to tell exactly, even spying through the glass." "Somehow, however," replied Frank. "I have the feeling that they didn't." "Didn't what?" asked Bob. "Didn't see us," answered Frank. Frank had accelerated the speed of the engine, and was driving at eighty miles an hour, straight for home. Suddenly, an exclamation from Bob, who again was swinging his glasses over the sea below, smote the ears of the boys. "Something's the matter with that little plane. Say"--a breathless pause--"it's falling. Come on, Frank. We'll have to see if we can help. Swoop down. There, to the left." Rapidly Frank began spiralling and in a very short time was near enough to the small plane for it to be seen clearly with the naked eye. It had been flying at a considerable height. As the boys watched, it went into a dive, with the pilot struggling desperately to flatten out. He succeeded, when not far from the surface of the ocean. As a result, instead of diving nose foremost into the water, the plane fell flat with a resounding smack, there was a breathless moment or two when it seemed as if the little thing would be swamped, then it rode lightly and buoyantly on the little swells. Descending to the water, Frank taxied up close to the other plane. The figure of the pilot hung motionless over the wheel. Probably, considered the boys, the man had been flung about and buffeted until he lost consciousness. "I'll close up to him head on," Frank said. "Then, if necessary, one of you can climb into the other plane and see what we can do to help. Probably the thing to do will be to get him aboard here, and carry him ashore." "Righto," said Bob, climbing out to the fuselage, behind the slowly revolving propeller. "Now take it easy. We don't want to smash. I can drop into the water and swim a stroke or two, and get aboard." As the boys swung up close, however, the figure at the wheel of the other plane stirred. Then the man lifted his head and looked at them, in dazed fashion. "Mr. Higginbotham," exclaimed Frank, under his breath. "Well, what do you know about that?" It was, indeed, the man they had interviewed earlier that day in the McKay realty offices, back in New York. "How in the world did he get here?" asked Jack, who also had recognized the other. Frank had brought their plane to a halt. It bobbed up and down slowly on the long ground swell, not far from the smaller machine. Bob was still astride the fuselage. "Hello," he called. "We saw you fall and came over to see if we could help. Engine gone wrong, or what was it?" Higginbotham was rapidly recovering his senses. He stared at his interlocutor keenly, then at the others. Recognition dawned, then dismay, in his eyes. But he cloaked the latter quickly. "Why, aren't you the lads who were in my office to-day?" he asked, ignoring Bob's proffer of help. "You're Mr. Higginbotham, aren't you?" answered Bob. "Yes, we are the fellows you spoke to." "What in the world are you doing out here?" Higginbotham demanded, sharply. "Why, we told you we lived near here. We had flown to Mineola and then motored to the city. And we were just flying home when we saw you fall, and came over to do what we could." "Oh." Higginbotham stared from one to the other. Had he seen them pursue him and spy on him as he visited the schooner? That was the question each boy asked himself. Apparently, he had not done so, for his next question was: "Do you fly around here often in your plane?" Frank took a hand in the conversation. If big Bob were left to carry on alone, he might blunderingly give this man an inkling of what the boys knew or suspected about their mysterious neighbors. Frank felt that his chill of suspicion, experienced when he encountered Higginbotham in New York, was being justified. Decidedly, this man must be in with the mysterious inhabitant of the old Brownell place. Equally certain was it that he had lied in stating he did not know the name of the man who had bought the property. "Oh," said Frank, "we haven't had the plane out for weeks until a day or two ago, when we made a trial spin, and again to-day. We've been busy for a month overhauling it." That, thought Frank, ought to stave off Higginbotham's suspicions. Evidently, the other was feeling around to learn whether they had flown sufficiently of late to have spied out the secret radio plant or seen the radio-controlled plane in operation. "And I'll bet," Frank said himself, "that it is a complete surprise to him to find there is a plane in his neighborhood. Probably, he thought he could operate without fear of discovery in this out-of-the-way neighborhood, and it's a shock to him to find we are here." Some such thoughts were passing through Higginbotham's mind. How could he get rid of these boys without disclosing to them that his was a radio-controlled plane? "I'm very much obliged to you, gentlemen," he said, smoothly, "for coming to my aid. As it is, however, I do not need help. This is a plane of my own design, I may as well state, for I can see its surprising lines have aroused your curiosity. I would prefer that you do not come any closer but that, on the other hand, you would leave me now. I want to make some minor repairs, and then I shall be able to fly again." "Very well, sir," answered Bob composedly, climbing back from the fusilage to his seat in the pit. "We don't want to annoy you. Good day." With that, Frank swung clear, the propeller to which Bob had given a twist began anew to revolve, the plane taxied in a circle, then rose and started for the shore. "We certainly surprised him," chuckled Jack. "He didn't know what to say to us. In his excitement and his fear of discovery of some secret or other, he acted in a way to arouse suspicion, not dispel it. Well, Frank, you win the gold medal. Your hunch about Higginbotham being untrustworthy certainly seems to have some foundation." "I'll say so, too," agreed Bob. "But what do you imagine happened to him?" Bob sat with the glasses trained backwards to where the little plane still rode the sea. "That's easy," answered Jack. "Something went wrong at the secret radio plant and the continuity of the dash which provides the juice for the plane's motor was broken. That's the only way I can figure it. I say. Let's tune up to 1,375 meters, and see whether that continuous dash is sounding." "It's not there," Bob announced presently. "Not a sound in the receivers. Neither does the plane show any signs of motion. Look here. Suppose that whatever has happened at that fellow's radio plant cannot be fixed up for a long period, what will Higginbotham do? Ought we to go away and leave him?" "Well," said Jack, doubtfully, "it does look heartless. He's four or five miles from shore. Of course, we might shoot him a continuous dash from our own radio plant." "Zowie," shrieked Bob, snatching the receiver from his head, and twisting the controls at the same time, in order to reduce from the 1,375-meter wave length. "There's his power. No need for us to worry now. Oh, boy, but wasn't that a blast in the ear?" Ruefully, he rubbed his tingling ears. Jack was doing the same. Poor Frank, whose eardrums had been subjected to the same shock, also had taken a hand from the levers at the same time and snatched off his headpiece. "She's rising now," cried Bob. Without his headpiece, Frank could not hear the words and kept his eyes to the fore, as he swung now above the line of the shore. Jack, however, also was straining his eyes to the rear, and he snatched the glasses from Bob and trained them on the plane. True enough, Higginbotham was rising. CHAPTER VII A CALL FROM HEADQUARTERS It was not yet five o'clock when, the airplane safely stowed away and the doors of the hangar closed and locked, the boys once more stood on the skidway. "What say to a plunge before we go up to the house?" proposed Frank. "There's nobody to see us. We can strip down at the beach, splash around for ten minutes, and then head home. It's a hot, sticky day and that trip to the city left me with the feeling that I wanted to wash something away." The others agreed to the proposal and they started making their way to the shore, discussing the latest turn of events on the way. "It certainly looks as if your hunch about Higginbotham, when we met him in his office, was justified," said Jack, clapping Frank on the shoulder. "The boy's a wonder," agreed Bob. Then, more seriously, he added: "But, I say. Higginbotham isn't the man who flew the radio-controlled plane before. I mean the fellow whose tracks I found in the sand. That chap was peg-legged." "That's right," agreed Jack. "And where does Higginbotham figure in this matter, anyhow? It's some mystery." "Well, let's see what we do know so far," suggested Frank. "It's little enough that we have found out. But I like mysteries. First of all, Bob finds a secret radio plant, and----" "No," interrupted Jack. "First of all, I discover interference in the receivers at a 1,375-meter wave length." "Yes, that's right," said Frank. "Well, second is Bob's find of the radio plant to which he is led by tracks in the sand made by a peg-legged man. Look here. Bob thought at the time that man had arrived in a boat. He saw marks on the sand indicating a boat had been pulled up on the shore. Might not that have been the indentation made by the radio plane?" "Just what I was thinking to myself a minute ago," said Bob. "Anyhow," continued Frank, "we then discovered the radio plane in Starfish Cove. From Uncle George we learned a mysterious stranger had recently bought the Brownell place, the 'haunted house,' and had built a fence about the property and set armed guards to keep out intruders. The plot was thickening all the time." By now the boys had reached the shore and well above the tide mark they began to strip, dropping their clothes in heaps. Frank continued talking as he shed his garments: "So we decided to go up to the city and ask Mr. McKay who it was had taken the Brownell place. Instead of Mr. McKay we found his secretary, Higginbotham, who professed to know nothing about the matter. Yet, when we arrive down here, we find Higginbotham in the radio plane, visiting a schooner well off shore. "Say, fellows," he added, as having dropped the last article of clothing, he stood prepared to plunge in; "that man Higginbotham must have left his office immediately after we interviewed him, and probably came down by motor car. We spent two or three hours longer in the city, which gave him the chance to beat us. Now what brought him down here?" "Search me," said Bob. "There may be a big liquor plot, and he may be in it. Probably, is. Perhaps he was alarmed at our inquiries and hurried down to keep things quiet for a while." "That's just what he did, Bob, I do believe," said Jack, approvingly. "I believe you've hit it." "Oh, well, come on," said Bob. "Let's have this plunge." Scooping up two handsful of wet sand he flung it at his companions. Then the fight began. Forty-five minutes later, as they strolled across the lawn of the Temple home, Della came running to join them from the tennis court where she was playing with a girl visitor. "Where have you been?" she cried. "Some man has been calling for the three of you on the telephone. Two or three times in the last hour." "Calling for us, Sis?" said Bob. "Who is he?" "I don't know," she said. "He hasn't given his name. I believe he's calling from New York." The boys looked at each other, puzzled. Who could it be? "Oh, there's Mary again," said Della, pointing to a maid who at that moment emerged on the side veranda, overlooking the tennis court. "Mister Robert, you're wanted on the telephone," came the maid's voice. Bob hurried indoors, Jack at his heels. Frank hung behind. "Well, Mr. Frank Merrick," said Della pertly. "Give an account of yourself, if you please. What were you boys doing in the city to-day? You think you're grand, don't you, to go flying off in your airplane, on the very day I invite a girl down here to meet you?" "Is she good looking, Della?" asked Frank, anxiously. "I won't meet her if she isn't good looking." Della realized he was merely teasing, but she made a cruel thrust in return. "You don't expect a good looking girl to be interested in you, do you?" she said. Frank laughed, then reached out to seize her by the shoulders, but she eluded his grasp and went speeding off across the lawn with him in pursuit. They reached the tennis court, laughing and flushed, Della still in the lead. There Della beckoned the other girl to them, and managed introductions. "This is that scatter-brained Frank Merrick, I told you about, Pete," she said. "Frank, this is my own particular pal at Miss Sefton's School, Marjorie Faulkner, better known as Pete. If you can beat her at tennis, you will have to play above your usual form." "That so?" said Frank, entering into the spirit of badinage. "Give me a racquet, and I'll take you both on for a set. About 6-0 ought to be right, with me on the large end. Never saw a girl yet that could play passable tennis." "You scalawag," laughed Della. "When it was only my playing that enabled us to beat Bob and Jack last light. Well, here's your racquet, all waiting for you. Come on." Della was a prophet. The slender, lithe Miss Faulkner, with her tip-tilted nose, freckles, tan and all, proved to be almost as good a player as Della herself. The result was that, although both games were hotly contested, Frank lost the first two of the set. He was about to start serving for the third game, when Bob and Jack, giving evidences of considerable excitement, approached from the house. "Hey, Frank, come here," called Bob. Frank stood undecided, but Della called to her brother: "He's a very busy boy, Bob. You and Jack better come and help him." Noting the presence of the other girl, Bob and Jack came forward, whereupon Della once more managed introductions. Bob, usually rather embarrassed in the presence of girls, seemed at once at ease, and apparently forgot entirely his urgent business with Frank. He and Miss Faulkner fell into the gay chatter from which the others were excluded. Jack seized the opportunity to pull Frank aside. "Look here," he said. "Something has happened already. That call was from one of the government prohibition enforcement agents up in New York. He said Inspector Condon had carried our information and surmises about our neighbors to him immediately after seeing us. He's coming down to-night to the house. Said he thought he could make the trip in about three hours, and would be here at 9 o'clock." "Is that so?" said Frank. "Has Uncle George come home yet?" "No, and he won't be home. It seems he telephoned earlier that he was running down to Philadelphia on business for a day or two. He always keeps a grip packed at his office, you know, for such emergencies." Frank nodded, then looked thoughtful. "He ought to be here, however," he said. "Well, anyway, there's your father." Jack shook his head. "No, Dad planned to stay in town to-night at his club." "Well," said Frank. "We'll have to handle this alone. I suppose, however, this man just wants to talk with us at first hand and, perhaps, by staying until to-morrow, get an idea of what's down here for himself. He might even ask us to take him up in the plane over the Brownell place, to-morrow." "What did Bob say to him?" "Told him to come on down," said Jack. "What else could he say? We had told Inspector Condon that we placed ourselves at the government's service. I expect I had better put him up at our house overnight. Then we won't have to make any useless explanations to Mrs. Temple." Frank nodded. Mrs. Temple, though kindly soul enough, was so involved in social and club duties that she had little time to give the boys. As a matter of fact, Frank was not at all certain that she would be at home for dinner that night. As to putting up the stranger at Jack's home, that would be an easy matter. Jack's mother was dead, and a housekeeper managed the house and servants for himself and his father. She was an amiable woman, and all Jack would have to do would be to prefer a request that a guest room be prepared, and it would be done. "Hey, Frank," called Bob, interrupting their aside; "see how this strikes you? Miss Faulkner and I will play you and Della. We shall have time for a set before dressing for dinner." "Righto," agreed Frank, taking up his racquet, while Jack sank to the turf bordering the court, to look on. Bob really outplayed himself, and several times, when he approached Della, Frank whispered to her that her brother was smitten and trying to "show off" before the new girl. Della, well pleased, nodded agreement. Nevertheless, Frank and Della played their best, and the score stood at three-all when Jack hailed them from the sidelines with the information that, unless they preferred being late to dinner, it behooved them to quit playing and hasten indoors. Dinner at the Temples was served promptly at 7 o'clock, and never delayed. Accordingly, the game was broken up. "Come along, Jack," said Frank, linking an arm in that of his pal; "your father's not at home, and we won't let you dine in solitary splendor. You are coming to dinner with us." CHAPTER VIII A CONSULTATION "This man Higginbotham is not the chief figure in the liquor smuggling ring," stated Captain Folsom emphatically. Captain Folsom sat in the Temple library, with the boys grouped about him. The time was nearing ten o'clock. From the moment of his arrival, shortly after the hour of nine, he had been in conference with the boys, and they had explained to him in detail all that they had discovered or surmised about their neighbors of the old Brownell place. An army officer with a distinguished record, who had lost his left arm in the Argonne, Captain Folsom upon recovery had been given a responsible post in the prohibition enforcement forces. His was a roving commission. He was not attached permanently to the New York office, but when violations of the law at the metropolis became so flagrant as to demand especial attention, he had been sent on from Washington to assume command of a special squad of agents. Lieutenant Summers, U. S. N., in command of the submarine division known as the "Dry Fleet," was operating in conjunction with him, he had told the boys. Still a young man in his early thirties, he had a strong face, an athletic frame and a true grey eye, and had made a good impression on the boys. "No," he repeated emphatically, "this man Higginbotham is not at the bottom of all this devilment. There is somebody behind it all who is keeping utterly in the dark, somebody who is manipulating all the various bands of smugglers around this part of the world. I believe that when we unearth him we shall receive the surprise of our lives, for undoubtedly, from certain evidences that have come to my attention so far, he will prove to be a man of prominence and importance in the business world." "But why should such a man engage in liquor smuggling?" asked Jack, astonished. Captain Folsom smiled. "My dear boy," he said, "wherever 'big money,' so to speak, is involved, you will find men doing things you would never have suspected they were capable of. And certainly, 'big money' is involved in bootlegging, as liquor smuggling is termed. "Evidently, you boys have not been interested in watching developments in this situation, since the country became 'dry.' Well, it's a long story, and I won't spin out the details. But, as soon as the prohibition law went into effect, in every city in the country bootleggers sprang up. Many, of course, were of the lawless type that are always engaged in breaking the laws. Others, however, were people who ordinarily would not be regarded as law-violators. In this case, though, they felt that an injustice had been done, that human liberty had been violated, in the foisting of prohibition on the country. They felt it was a matter the individual should be permitted to decide for himself, whether he should take a drink of liquor or not, you know. "These people, therefore, did not regard it as a crime to break the law. "Another salve to conscience, moreover, was the fact that tremendous sums of money were to be made out of bootlegging. Liquor was selling for prices that were simply enormous. It still is, of course, but I am speaking about the beginnings of things. People who never had drunk liquor in any quantities before, now would buy a case of whiskey or wine, and pay $100 a case and up for it, and consider themselves lucky to get it. They would boast quietly to friends about having obtained a case of liquor. "The bootlegging industry, accordingly, has grown to astonishing proportions to-day. Right in New York City are men who are rated as millionaires, who a few years ago did not have a penny, and they have acquired their money through liquor smuggling. "At first these bootleggers operated individually, and elsewhere in the Nation that is still largely their method. But here in New York there have been increasing evidences lately that some organizing genius had taken charge of the situation and was swiftly bending other bootleggers to his will. For some time, we have been of the opinion that a syndicate or ring, probably controlled and directed by one man, was responsible for most of the liquor smuggling here." "And do you believe," interrupted Frank, "that this man who has bought the old Brownell place may be that central figure?" Captain Folsom nodded. "It is entirely possible," he said. "Moreover, what you have told me about the construction of a secret radio plant, and about the appearance of this radio-controlled airplane, fits in with certain other facts which have puzzled us a good deal lately." "How so?" asked Jack. "For one thing," said Captain Folsom, "my colleague, Lieutenant Summers of the submarine division, tells me that his radio receivers aboard the boats of his fleet have picked up any number of mysterious series of dots and dashes lately. Code experts have been working on them, but they have proved meaningless. "He was puzzled by them. He still is puzzled. But, we have noticed that after every such flooding of the ether with these dots and dashes, a shipment of liquor has appeared on the market. And one theory advanced is that the liquor was landed along the coast of Long Island or New Jersey in boats controlled by radio from a powerful land station. The boats, of course, according to this theory, were launched from some liquor-laden vessel which had arrived off the coast from the West Indies. Radio-driven boats, automobiles or planes, Lieutenant Summers tells me, are directed by a series of dots and dashes. So you see, our theory sounds plausible enough, and, if it is correct, the direction probably has come from this secret radio station." Big Bob's brow was wrinkled in thought. He seldom spoke, but usually when he did so, it was to the point. "In that case," he asked, "what would be the necessity for this radio-driven airplane? Apparently, the airplane is for communication from ship to shore. But, with a radio land station, why can't such communications be carried on by radio in code?" Captain Folsom looked thoughtful. "There is something in that," he said. "Perhaps, these plotters are playing safe," suggested Frank. "They may figure that code would be intercepted and interpreted. Therefore, they confine their use of radio to the transmission of power waves, and do not employ it for sending messages. The airplane is the messenger." Jack nodded approvingly. "Yes," he agreed, "Frank's idea is a good one. Besides, by using a radio-controlled plane, the plotters can scout over the surrounding waters for miles whenever a ship is about to land a cargo. The plane can make a scouting expedition over the shore, too, for that matter. You see a radio-controlled plane has an immense advantage for such scout work, inasmuch as it proceeds practically without noise." Captain Folsom slapped his knee resoundingly with an open palm. "By George," he cried, "I believe you boys have hit it. This scout plane is the answer to what has puzzled us the last few weeks. We know liquor is being landed somewhere from ships, but despite our best efforts both ashore and on the water, we have been unable to run down the smuggling ships or the receiving parties ashore. Well, this plane warns the ships away from the vicinity of the sub chasers, and also directs the landing of the radio-controlled boats with their cargo at lonely spots where there are no guards. Yes, sir, I believe that is the way it has been worked." He fell silent, and sat with brow wrinkled in concentrated thought. The boys respected his silence, and also were busied with their own thoughts. "There is one thing that has got to be done," said Captain Folsom, presently. There was a gleam of determination in his eye. "You mean the radio-controlled plane must be put out of commission?" asked Frank quickly. "You have read my thought," accused Captain Folsom. "Yes, that is just what I was going to suggest. But how to do it, with no evidence against Higginbotham or this mysterious individual living at the Brownell house, is beyond me." "Jack's a shark at the use of radio," declared Bob. "Perhaps he can suggest some method." All turned toward Jack. "It wouldn't do, of course, to make a raid and capture the plane and their radio plant?" Jack asked. Captain Folsom shook his head. "No," he said. "That wouldn't do, for a number of reasons. In the first place, as I said, we have no evidence that would stand in court that Higginbotham or anybody else connected with the matter is a law-breaker. It may even be that whoever is behind the plot has obtained a government license for the operation of the radio station. The power of these bootleggers reaches far, and goes into high places. Therefore, we cannot afford to make an open attack. "But, in the second place," he added, leaning forward and uncrossing his legs; "what good would that do? It would only warn the Man Higher Up that we were on his track. We don't want him warned. We want to close in on him. For I do believe you boys have given us a lead that will enable us to do so. At the same time--we do want to put that plane out of commission." "Look here," said Jack, suddenly. "It's strange, if with our airplane and our own radio plant, one of the most powerful private plants in the world, certainly in America, it's strange, I say, if with this equipment we are not enabled to work out some method for accomplishing your ends. "But, let's think it over. Let's sleep on it. I have the glimmerings of an idea now. But I'm tired. It's been a hard day. Suppose we all turn in and talk it over to-morrow morning." "Good idea, Jack," declared Bob, yawning unrestrainedly. "I'm tired, too." "Very good," said Captain Folsom. "Meanwhile, I shall have to take advantage of your kind offer to put me up for the night." "No trouble at all," said Jack, heartily. "Come along. Night, fellows. Come over to my house after breakfast. Night." With mutual farewells the party broke up, Frank and Bob retiring to their rooms, and Jack and his guest starting to make their way to the Hampton home. On the part of none of them was there any prevision of the strange events the night would bring forth. CHAPTER IX THE ENEMY STRIKES In the middle of the night, Jack awoke with a start, and lay silent a moment, listening, wondering what had aroused him. The next moment he heard a cry outside his window of "Jack, Jack, wake up." It was Frank's voice. Leaping from bed, Jack sprang to the upflung window overlooking the side lawn nearest the Temple house. Outside in the moonlight stood Frank, a pair of trousers pulled over his pajamas, hands cupped to his mouth. He was preparing to yell again. "What's the matter?" called Jack. "The hangar's afire. Tom Barnum saw the blaze from your radio station and called the house. I'm off. Come as fast as you can." Turning, Frank plunged away toward the airplane hangar, clutching at his trousers as he ran. Jack could not help laughing a little at the ridiculous spectacle which his chum provided. Then he turned back to the room and started feverishly to dress, ignoring everything except trousers, shirt and shoes. While he was thus engaged, the voice of Captain Folsom hailed him sleepily from next room. "You up, old man? Thought I heard voices. Anything the matter?" "Yes, there is," replied Jack, going to the communicating door. "Tom Barnum, the mechanic-watchman in charge of our radio plant, which isn't far from the Temples' airplane hangar, says the latter is afire. Frank and Bob already are on the way down, and stopped to warn me." "Afire?" cried Captain Folsom, leaping from his bed, and reaching for his trousers. "That's bad. Just when we need the airplane, too, to spy on these rascals. Half a minute, old man, and I'll be with you. Not so devilish easy to get into trousers with one arm." "Can I help you?" proffered Jack. "I'm all fixed. Here, let me lace your shoes." "Well, if you insist," said Captain Folsom. As Jack deftly laced up the other's shoes, he said in an anxious tone: "Do you think, sir, those people set the fire? It would be a catastrophe if the plane burned just at this particular time, wouldn't it? There. All ready." "Mighty good of you," said Captain Folsom. "Lead on, then, and I'll follow. As to the fire, I'll reserve opinion until I get the facts. But these liquor smugglers are unscrupulous, and if they feared the airplane was being used against them, they would have no compunctions about burning it." From the side of the house on which their rooms were located, Jack and his guest were unable to see anything of the fire, as the hangar lay in an opposite direction. But the moment they emerged outdoors, the blaze showed dully against the sky above an intervening grove of trees. Without wasting breath in further speculation, Jack and Captain Folsom started running for the scene. The hangar stood a considerable distance away, and so fast had they covered the ground that they arrived pretty well blown. They found the airplane standing like a singed bird on the sands in front of the hangar, and gathered about were Frank and Bob, Tom Barnum, and Old Davey, Mr. Hampton's gardener. "The wings are gone, Jack," said Bob, turning as his chum approached. "But, thanks to Tom's rapid work with the extinguisher, the fire did not reach the tank, and the old bus will be able to fly again after she sprouts new wings." Jack turned his gaze to the hangar. The sides and roof were of corrugated iron. Practically the only wood in the construction was that employed in the skidway. It needed only a glance to tell him the latter had been torn up and piled inside the hangar where it was still smouldering. "What happened?" he asked. There were excited answers from all, but presently the story was made clear. Some miscreant apparently had forced open the doors of the hangar, torn up the wooden planks and flooring of the skidway, piled them inside and then set them afire. Probably whoever was guilty employed this method in order to give himself time to escape before the fire should attract attention. He had overlooked, however, the presence of a large tank of chemicals with which to fight fire stored at the rear of the hangar, and Tom Barnum, after telephoning the Temple home, had appeared so quickly at the hangar that, by employing the chemical extinguisher, he had managed to save the airplane from being blown up. Old Davey, a light sleeper, had hurried over from his cottage and the pair were in the act of pushing apart the burning brands in order to wheel out the plane, when Bob and Frank arrived to help them. "Et's mighty cur'ous," said Old Davey, shaking his head dolefully; "mighty cur'ous, the trouble you boys hev with thet airyplane. D'ye think now et was them Mexicans comin' back?" "No, Davey," said Jack. "Not this time. Some other set of rascals was responsible." "What does he mean, may I ask?" inquired Captain Folsom, his curiosity aroused. Briefly, Jack related to him how the previous summer two representatives of a faction of Mexican bandits engaged in making war on a group of independent oil operators headed by his father in New Mexico, had appeared at the quiet Long Island home, stolen the airplane, and flown with it to Old Mexico where they had employed it in kidnapping Mr. Hampton. The boys, said Jack, not only had effected Mr. Hampton's release but also had recovered the plane, as related in "The Radio Boys On The Mexican Border." "It's too long a story to be told now, however," he concluded, after giving the above bare outline. "Some other time I'll give you the details if you are interested." "I certainly am interested," said Captain Folsom, regarding Jack with increased respect. "To think of you boys having done all that!" "Oh, it was fun," said Jack hastily, embarrassed by the other's praise. "Come on, let's see what the fellows are doing." The others proved to be engaged in spraying the last of the chemical on the expiring embers of the blaze, and in stamping and beating out the last of the fire. As the light died out, Bob fumbled for and found the switch in the hangar and the electric lights sprang on. "Whoever did this made a hurried job of it," said he. "I wonder----" "What?" asked Jack. "Oh, I was just wondering why the job was left uncompleted? Tom," he added, turning to Tom Barnum; "how big was the blaze when you saw it?" "Nothin' much," answered the other, his round, good-natured face shining through a fog of pipe smoke. "I was restless. Somethin' I et for dinner, I guess. So I got up to smoke a pipe an' stroll around outside the station a bit, to see if I couldn't get myself sleepy. My room's back o' the power house, ye know. Well, as I come outside I see a light over here. Not much bigger than a flashlight. But it was 2 o'clock in the mornin' an' I knew none o' you could be there. So I thinks either that's fire or some rascal, an' telephoned you, then hustled over here." "That's it," said Bob. "That explains it. I was wondering why whoever set this fire didn't make a more complete job of it, but I see now. You probably scared him away." "Might be," said Tom. "He might a heard me callin' to Old Davey as I run past his cottage." "Well," said Frank, "let's push the bus inside. She's not much good till we get new wings, but we don't want to leave it out here all night." All lent a hand, and then as he started to swing shut the doors Bob examined the lock and gave an exclamation. "Not even broken open," he said, disgustedly. "I must have forgotten to lock up when we left. Good night." This time, he fastened the lock, and then fell in with his comrades and the party started for their homes. "Whoever did that wasn't far away," Captain Folsom said, thoughtfully. "If we had made a search we might have gotten some trace of him. But it is too late now. I imagine, of course, as I said to Mr. Hampton here earlier, that our bootlegger friends set the fire. When they discovered your airplane in their neighborhood, they feared it would interfere with their plans and decided to get rid of it." "Well, they got rid of it, all right," said Bob, "for to-night, anyhow, as well as for some time come." They proceeded in gloomy silence for the most part, although the voice of Old Davey, an incorrigible conversationalist, floated back to them from where he led the way with Tom Barnum. Where their courses diverged, the pair waited for them to call "Good nights." "I say," said Jack suddenly, to his companions as Tom and Old Davey departed; "I have an idea. Let's go over to the radio station, just for luck, and listen in on the ether to see whether we can pick up the interference on the 1,375-meter wave length. Maybe, we can get some of those dots and dashes, too, of which Captain Folsom spoke. It's only a step or two out of our way." Bob yawned sleepily but stumbled ahead for the station, without a word, and Frank fell in with him. Jack called to Tom Barnum and ran ahead, leaving Captain Folsom to proceed with his chums. When the others arrived, the door of the station's transmitting room stood open, the lights were turned on, and Jack already was seated at the instrument table, a headpiece clamping the receivers to his ears while he manipulated the tuner. Bob slumped down on the outside step, and Frank took a seat beside him, with an arm flung over his shoulders. The damage to their airplane was felt keenly by both. Captain Folsom, with a pitying glance at them, entered the station. "Put on that headpiece," said Jack, motioning. The other complied. "By George," he cried, a moment later. CHAPTER X A NIGHT EXPEDITION For several minutes Jack and Captain Folsom listened with strained attention while through the receivers came to their ears a series of dots and dashes which to one corresponded exactly with the similar sounds picked up by the prohibition enforcement officials on other occasions, and which to the other were meaningless and, therefore, significant. That statement is not difficult to explain. Jack was familiar with the Morse and Continental codes. What he heard in the receivers represented neither. Therefore, either the station he had picked up and was listening-in on was sending in some mysterious code or, as was more likely, it was radiating control. And, all things considered, the latter was the more likely supposition. Meanwhile, Bob and Frank, unaware of what was forward, sat disconsolately on the stoop outside in the warm night air, glooming over the damage to their airplane. Finally Captain Folsom took off the headpiece and, seeing that Jack had done likewise, turned to him with an air of exasperation. "This is maddening," he declared to Jack. "Evidently, if I know anything about it, the smugglers are landing liquor somewhere along the coast by means of a radio-controlled boat or boats." Jack was thoughtful. "Do you know what I think?" he asked. "I believe they are landing the liquor somewhere near us. For one thing, the sounds in the receivers are very clear and distinct. That, however, does not portend a great deal. The night is exceptionally good for sending, clear and with practically no static. But there is another thing to be considered, and it's that I have in mind." "What do you mean?" asked Captain Folsom. "I am thinking of the attempt to destroy the airplane, and the probable reason for it." "Hm." "You see," continued Jack, "if the smugglers planned to operate to-night, and were made fearful by recent events that we either had learned anything about them or suspected them, they might decide it would be unwise to have us at large, so to speak. Suppose we were to swoop down on them in our airplane, they might think, what then? This man Higginbotham, now. He might not have been deceived by our explanation of how we came to be on hand when he was flying in his radio-controlled plane and fell into the water. Besides, and this is the biggest point of all, we had appeared at his office to try and find out who had bought the Brownell property. Oh, the more I consider it, the more I realize that he could not help but suspect that we were on the track of the liquor smugglers." Captain Folsom nodded. "Sound sense, all of it," he declared; "especially, your deduction that they are landing liquor near us. Look here," he added, with sudden resolution; "where does that man, Tom Barnum, sleep?" "He has quarters opening from the power house here," said Jack, in a tone of surprise. "Why, may I ask?" "Well, I think so well of your supposition that I want to do a bit of investigating. Barnum looks like a stout, reliant man. Besides, he knows the neighborhood. I'll ask him to accompany me." Jack's eyes glittered. "What's the matter with us?" he demanded. "Oh, I couldn't think of drawing you boys into this. It might involve some little danger." "Well," said Jack, "danger would be nothing new to us. If you do not actually forbid our accompanying you, we'll go along. I'm keen to go. And I can say the same for Bob and Frank without questioning them. Besides, you must remember it was their airplane which these rascals damaged. They'll be eager for a chance to even scores." Captain Folsom still looked dubious. "You are unarmed," he objected. "And we might, just might, you know, stumble into a situation where we would need to protect ourselves." "Oh, if that's all that stands in your way," said Jack, rising, "you need not worry. Tom Barnum keeps a whole armory of weapons here. He has at least a half dozen pistols and automatics. As for us, we are all pretty fair shots and used to handling weapons. Now, look here, Captain Folsom," he said, pleadingly, advancing and laying a hand on the other's arm; "I know what you are saying to yourself. You are saying how foolish it would be for you to encumber yourself with three harum-scarum boys. But that is where you make a mistake. We have been through a lot of dangerous situations, all three of us and, I can tell you, we have been forced to learn to keep our wits about us. I can promise you that we would not be a hindrance." Captain Folsom's face cleared. "Good," said he, heartily; "spoken like a man. I'll be only too glad to have you fellows." "We'll take Tom Barnum, too," said Jack. "He can be relied on in any crisis. Wait here until I stir him up and tell the boys." Leaving the other, Jack went outside and apprised his chums of the new plan. It was just the thing they needed to rouse them from the despondency into which contemplation of the damage to their airplane had thrown them. Then he went to Tom Barnum's quarters. Tom had not yet returned to sleep. He was eager to join in the adventure. Bringing three or four pistols, Jack and Tom quickly rejoined the party. "What is your idea, Captain Folsom?" Jack inquired, when all were ready to depart and everything had been made tight about the station. "First of all, how far is it to Starfish Cove?" "Between two and three miles," answered Bob. "But the tide is out, and we shall have good going on the hard sand, and ought to make it under forced draught in a half hour or a little more." "Is there any other place where small boats might land conveniently, any other place reasonably near?" The boys and Tom Barnum shook their heads. "That's far and away the best place," said Jack. "Well, then, I propose that we make our way close to the Cove, and then take to the cover of the trees, which you have given me to understand, come down there close to the water." "They fringe the beach," Bob explained. "Good. With reasonable care we ought to be able to make our way undiscovered close enough to see what is going on, supposing a landing such as I have in mind is taking place." "There's armed guards on the Brownell place nowadays," interjected Tom Barnum, to whom Jack had given a brief explanation of things. "Maybe, them fellers have sentries posted." "Well, we'll have to exercise caution when we get close to the Cove," said Captain Folsom. "And now, if we are all ready, let us start. Every second's delay is so much time lost. They'll be working fast. If we are to gain any information, we must hasten about it." "Righto," said Bob, striding off. "And just let me get my hands on the sneak that tried to burn the airplane," he added, vindictively. "I'll give that gentleman a remembrance or two of the occasion." The others fell in, and with long strides started making their way along the sand left hard-packed by the receding tide, under the moonlight. Bob set a terrific pace but, fortunately, all members of the party were young men and accustomed to physical exercise, and none found it any hardship to keep up with their pacemaker. On the contrary, three at least enjoyed the expedition and found their spirits uplifted by the zest of this unexpected adventure undertaken at 2 o'clock in the morning. When they drew near the first of the two horns enclosing the little bay known as Starfish Cove, Bob pulled up, and the others came to a halt around him. "Just ahead there," said Bob, pointing, and addressing Captain Folsom, "lies our destination. I expect it would not be wise to make our way any farther along the sands." Captain Folsom nodded. "Right. We'll take to those trees up yonder. I'll go first with Jack." Unconsciously, he had taken to addressing the boys by their given names. "Do you others keep close behind." In this order they started making their way through the grove, just inside the outer belt of trees. The moonlight was bright on the water and the sands, and illuminated the aisles of the grove in fairylike fashion. "Keep low and take advantage of cover," whispered Captain Folsom, as he saw how the matter stood. And crouching and darting from tree to tree, they worked their way forward until a low exclamation from Jack halted his companion who was a bit behind him. The others came up. "Fence," whispered Jack, succinctly. Sure enough. There it was, just ahead, a high wire fence, the strands barbed and strung taut on steel poles. "We can't see the Cove yet from here," whispered Jack. "Our first glimpse of it won't come until we move forward a bit farther. We'll either have to try to climb over this or go out on the beach to get around it. It doesn't go down to the water, does it, Bob?" "No, and I didn't see it when I was here several days ago," Bob replied in a low voice. "I suppose it must have been here then, but I didn't see it. There was no fence on the beach, and I was following the water's edge." "There's a big tree close to it," said Frank, pointing. "And, look. There's a limb projects over the fence. We might shin up the tree and out on that limb and drop." "I'm afraid I couldn't do it," said Captain Folsom, simply. "This arm----" "Oh, I forgot," said the sensitive Frank, with quick compunction, silently reproaching himself for thus reminding the other of his loss. "I'm not sensitive," said Captain Folsom, and added grimly: "Besides, the German that took it, paid with his life." There was an awkward silence. "Anyhow," said Jack, breaking it, "it would be ticklish work for any of us to get over that fence by climbing the tree. The fence is a good ten feet high, and the strands of barbed wire curve forward at the top. That limb, besides, is twelve feet or more from the ground, and not very strong, either. It looks as if we would have to make our way around the fence and out on the beach." "Let's go, then," said Bob, impatiently. "Now that I'm here I want a look at Starfish Cove. I have one of Frank's hunches that there is something doing there." He started moving forward toward the edge of the grove, which here was out of sight, being some distance away, as Jack had led the way well within the shelter of the trees because of the radiance cast by the moon. "Wait, Bob, wait," whispered Frank, suddenly, in a tense voice, and he restrained his companion. "I heard something." All crouched down, listening with strained attention. In a moment the sound of voices engaged in low conversation came to their ears, and a moment later two forms appeared on the opposite side of the fence, moving in their direction. CHAPTER XI PRISONERS "I heard a fellow shouting and beat it, or I'd'a done a better job. Anyhow, that's one plane won't be able to fly for a while." One of the two men dropped this remark as the pair, engrossed in conversation, passed abreast of the party on the outside of the boundary fence and not ten feet from them. The speaker was a short, broad, powerfully built man in appearance, and he spoke in a harsh voice and with a twang that marked him as a ruffian of the city slums. He wore a cap, pulled so low over his features as to make them indistinguishable. And he walked with a peg leg! The moonlight was full on the face of the other, and the boys recognized him as Higginbotham. There was an angry growl from Bob, farthest along the line toward the beach, which he quickly smothered. Apparently, it did not attract attention, for Higginbotham and his companion continued on their way oblivious to the proximity of the others. "The young hounds," said Higginbotham, in his cultivated, rather high voice. And he spoke with some heat. "This will teach them a lesson not to go prying into other people's business." The other man made some reply, but it was indistinguishable to those in hiding, and the precious pair proceeded on their way, now out of earshot. But enough had been overheard. It was plain now, if it had not been before, where lay the guilt for the attempt to destroy the airplane. Plain, too, was the fact that Higginbotham was engaged in some nefarious enterprise. For several seconds longer, after Higginbotham and his companion had gotten beyond earshot and were lost to view among the trees, Jack remained quiet but inwardly a-boil. Then he turned to Captain Folsom and Tom Barnum, crouching beside him. "What an outrage," he whispered, indignantly. "Poor Bob and Frank. To have their airplane damaged just because that scoundrel thought we were prying into his dirty secrets. I wish I had my hands on him." Suddenly his tone took on a note of alarm. "Why, where are Bob and Frank?" he demanded. "They were here a moment ago." He stared about him in bewilderment. The others did likewise. But the two mentioned could not be seen. With an exclamation, Jack rose to his feet. "Come on," he urged. "I'll bet Bob decided to go for the fellow who burned his plane and take it out of his hide. When that boy gets angry, he wants action." He started striding hastily down toward the beach, alongside the wire fencing. The others pressed at his heels. Presently, they caught the glint of water through the trees, and then, some distance ahead, caught sight of two figures moving out from the grove onto the sands on the opposite side of the fence. Jack increased his pace, but even as he did so two other figures stole from the woods on the heels of the first pair. Involuntarily, Jack cried out. The second pair leaped upon the backs of the first and bore them to the ground. The next moment, the air was filled with curses, and the four figures rolled on the sands. "Come on, fellows," cried Jack, breaking into a run, and dashed ahead. He broke from the trees and discovered the boundary fence came to an abrupt end at the edge of the grove. It was here Bob and Frank, he felt sure, had made their way and leaped on Higginbotham and the thug. For so he interpreted what he had seen. As he came up the fight ended. It had been bitter but short. Frank was astride Higginbotham and pressing his opponent's face into the sand to smother his outcries. Bob had wrapped his arms and legs about the city ruffian and the latter, whose curses had split the air, lay face uppermost, his features showing contorted in the moonlight. Bob knelt upon him. As Jack ran up, he was saying: "You want to be careful whose airplane you burn." An exclamation from Captain Folsom drew Jack's attention from the figures in the immediate foreground, and raising his eyes he gazed in the direction in which the other was pointing. Some fifty yards away, on the edge of Starfish Cove, a half dozen objects of strange shape and design were drawn up on the sand. They were long, shaped somewhat like torpedoes and gleamed wet in the moonlight. Not a soul was in sight. The moonlit stretch of beach was empty except for them. "What in the world can those be?" asked Captain Folsom. "They are made of metal," said Jack. "See how the moonlight gleams upon them. By George, Captain, they are big as whales. Can they be some type of torpedo-shaped boat controlled by radio?" "This is luck," exclaimed Captain Folsom. "That's just what they are. Probably, those two scoundrels were coming down here to see whether they had arrived, coming down here from their radio station. Come on, let's have a look." He started forward eagerly. Jack was a step behind him. An inarticulate cry from Tom Barnum smote Jack's ears, and he spun about. The next instant he saw a man almost upon him, swinging for his head with a club. He tried to dodge, to avoid the blow, but the club clipped him on the side of the head and knocked him to the ground. His senses reeled, and he struggled desperately to rise, but to no avail. A confused sound of shouts and cries and struggling filled his ears, then it seemed as if a wave engulfed him, and he lost consciousness. When he recovered his senses, Jack found himself lying in darkness. He tried to move, but discovered his hands and feet were tied. He lay quiet, listening. A faint moan came to his ears. "Who's that?" he whispered. "That you, Jack?" came Frank's voice in reply, filled with anxiety. It was close at hand. "Yes. Where's Bob?" "He's here, but I'm worried about him. I can't get any sound from him." "What happened?" asked Jack, his head buzzing, and sore. "Where are the others?" "Guess we're all here, Mister Jack," answered Tom Barnum's voice, out of the darkness. "Leastways, Captain What's-his-name's here beside me, but he don't speak, neither." "Good heavens," exclaimed Jack, in alarm, and making a valiant effort to shake off his dizziness. "Where are we? What happened? Frank, do you know? Tom, do you?" "Somebody jumped on me from behind," said Frank, "and then the fellow I was sitting on, this Higginbotham, squirmed around and took a hand, and I got the worst of it, and was hustled off to the old Brownell house and thrown in this dark room. I had my hands full and couldn't see what was going on. I heard Tom yell, but at the same time this fellow jumped on me. That's all I know." "There was a dozen or more of 'em come out of the woods," said Tom. "They sneaked out. We was pretty close to the trees. I just happened to look back, an' they was on us. Didn't even have time to pull my pistol. They just bowled me over by weight of numbers. Like Mister Frank, I had my own troubles and couldn't see what happened to the rest of you." There was a momentary silence, broken by Jack. "It's easy to see what happened," he said, bitterly. "What fools we were. Those things on the beach were radio-controlled boats which had brought liquor ashore, and a gang was engaged in carrying it up to the Brownell house. We happened along when the beach was clear, and Higginbotham and that other scoundrel were the vanguard of the returning party. When they shouted on being attacked by you and Bob, and Frank, the rest who were behind them in the woods were given the alarm, sneaked up quietly, and bagged us all. A pretty mess." A groan from Bob interrupted. "Poor old Bob," said Jack, contritely, for he had been blaming the headstrong fellow in his thoughts for having caused their difficulties by his precipitate attack on Higginbotham. "He seems to have gotten the worst of it." "Look here, Jack," said Frank suddenly. "My hands and feet are tied, and I suppose yours are, too. I'm going to roll over toward you, and do you try to open the knots on my hands with your teeth." "Would if I could, Frank," said Jack. "But that clip I got on the side of my head must have loosened all my teeth. They ache like sixty." "All right, then I'll try my jaws on your bonds." Presently, Frank was alongside Jack in the darkness. "Here, where are your hands?" he said. After some squirming about, Frank found what he sought, and began to chew and pull at the ropes binding Jack's hands. It was a tedious process at first, but presently he managed to get the knot sufficiently loosened to permit of his obtaining a good purchase, and then, in a trice, the ropes fell away. "Quick now, Jack," he said, anxiously. "We don't know how long we'll be left undisturbed. Somebody may come along any minute. Untie your feet and then free Tom and me, and we can see how Bob and Captain Folsom are fixed." Jack worked with feverish haste. After taking the bonds from his ankles, he undid those binding Frank. The latter immediately went to the side of Bob, whose groans had given way to long, shuddering sighs that indicated a gradual restoration of consciousness but that also increased the alarm of his comrades regarding his condition. Tom Barnum next was freed and at once set to work to perform a similar task for Captain Folsom, who meantime had regained his senses and apparently was injured no more severely than Jack, having like him received a clout on the side of the head. Tom explained the situation while untying him. Fortunately, the bonds in all cases had been only hastily tied. "Bob, this is Frank. Do you hear me? Frank." The latter repeated anxiously, several times, in the ear of his comrade. "Frank?" said Bob, thickly, at last. "Oh, my head." "Thank heaven, you're alive," said Frank fervently, and there was a bit of tremolo in his tone. He and the big fellow were very close to each other. "Now just lie quiet, and I'll explain where you are and what happened. But first tell me are you hurt any place other than your head?" "No, I think not," said Bob. "But the old bean's humming like a top. What happened, anyhow? Where are we? Where are the others?" "Right here, old thing," said Jack, on the other side of the prone figure. Thereupon Bob, too, was put in possession of the facts as to what had occurred. At the end of the recital, he sat up, albeit with an effort, for his head felt, as he described it, "like Fourth of July night--and no safe and sane Fourth, at that." "I don't know if you fellows can ever forgive me," he said, with a groan. "I got you into this. I saw red, when I discovered it was Higginbotham and that other rascal who had set the plane afire. There they were, in the woods, and I set out to crawl after them. Frank followed me." "Tried to stop him," interposed Frank. "But he wouldn't be stopped. I didn't dare call to the rest of you for fear of giving the alarm, so I went along. Anyhow, Bob," he added, loyally, "I felt just the same way you did about it, and you were no worse than I." "No," said Bob. "You weren't to blame at all. It was all my fault." "Forget it," said Jack. "Let's consider what to do now? Here we are, five of us, and now that we are on guard we ought to be able to give a pretty good account of ourselves. I, for one, don't propose to sit around and wait for our captors to dispose of us. How about the rest of you?" "Say on, Jack," said Frank. "If Bob's all right, nothing matters." "You have something in mind, Hampton, I believe," said Captain Folsom, quietly. "What is it?" CHAPTER XII THE WINDOWLESS ROOM "I have no plan," said Jack, "except this: We have freed ourselves of our bonds, and we ought to make an effort to escape. And, if we can make our escape," he added, determinedly, "I, for one, am anxious to try to turn the tables." "Turn the tables, Jack?" exclaimed Frank. "What do you mean? How could we do that?" "If we could capture the smugglers' radio plant," Jack suggested, "and call help, we could catch these fellows in the act. Of course, I know, there is only a slim chance that we could get immediate aid in this isolated spot. But I've been thinking of that possibility. Do you suppose any boats of the 'Dry Navy' about which you spoke are in the vicinity, Captain Folsom?" In the darkness, the latter could be heard to stir and move closer. All five, as a matter of fact, had drawn together and spoke in whispers that were barely audible. "That is a bully idea, Hampton," said Captain Folsom, with quickened interest. "Yes, I am certain one or more of Lieutenant Summers's fleet of sub chasers is along this stretch of coast. From Montauk Point to Great South Bay, he told me recently, he intended to set a watch at sea for smugglers." "Very good," said Jack. "Then, if we can gain possession of the smugglers' radio plant and call help, we may be able to catch these fellows and make a big haul. For, I presume, they must be bringing a big shipment of liquor ashore now. And, as the night is far advanced, doubtless they will keep it here until, say, to-morrow night, when they would plan to send it to the city in trucks. Don't you fellows imagine that is about what their plan of procedure would be?" All signified approval in some fashion or other. "Our first step, of course," said Captain Folsom, "must be to gain our freedom from the house. Are any of you familiar with the interior? Also, has anybody got any matches? My service pistol has been taken, and I presume you fellows also have been searched and deprived of your weapons?" General affirmation followed. "But about matches? Will you please search your pockets, everybody?" The boys never carried matches, being nonsmokers. Tom Barnum, however, not only produced a paper packet of matches but, what was far more valuable at the moment, a flashlight of flat, peculiar shape which he carried in a vest pocket and which his captors had overlooked in their hurried search. He flashed it once, and discovered it was in good working order. "So far, so good," said Captain Folsom. "Now to discover the extent of our injuries, before we proceed any further. Mine aren't enough to keep me out of any fighting. How about the rest of you?" "Frank's been binding up my head with the tail of my shirt," said Bob. "But I guess he could do a better job if he received a flash from that light of yours, Tom. Just throw it over here on my head, will you?" Tom complied, and it was seen Bob had received a nasty wound which had laid the scalp open on the left side three or four inches. The cut had bled profusely. With the light to work by, Frank, who like his companions was proficient in first aid treatment of injuries, shredded a piece of the white shirting for lint, made a compress, and then bound the whole thing tightly. Jack's blow was not so serious, but Frank bound his head, too. None of the boys nor Tom Barnum ever had been inside the Brownell house before, although all were more or less familiar with its outer appearance. Tom now made a careless survey of the room by the aid of his flashlight. He would flash it on for only a moment, as he moved about soundlessly, having removed his shoes, and he so hid the rays under his coat that very little light showed. This he did in order to prevent as much as possible any rays falling through cracks in the walls or floor, and betraying their activity. The room, Tom found on completing his survey, was without windows and possessed of only one door, a massive oaken affair with great strap iron hinges and set in a ponderous frame. From the slope of the ceiling at the sides, he judged the room was under the roof. Walls and ceiling were plastered. Not a sound had penetrated into the room from the outside, or from the other parts of the house, and at this all had marveled earlier. Tom's report of the survey supplied an answer to the mystery. There was little chance for sound to penetrate within. "But a room without windows?" said Jack. "How, then, does it happen the air is fresh?" "There's a draught from up above," answered Tom. "I cain't see any skylight, but there may be an air port back in the angle of the roof tree. Say, Mister Jack, this room gives me the creeps," he added, his voice involuntarily taking on an awed tone. "A room without windows. An' over in the far corner I found some rusted iron rings fastened to big staples set deep into a post in the wall." "What, Tom? You don't say." "Yes, siree. Ol' Brownell, the pirate whaler's, been dead for a long time. But there's queer stories still around these parts about him an' his house; stories not only 'bout how he was killed finally by the men as he'd cheated, but also 'bout a mysterious figure in white that used to be seen on the roof, an' yells heard comin' from here. You know what?" He leaned closer, and still further lowered his voice. "I'll bet this room was a cell fer some crazy body an' ol' Brownell kept him or her chained up when violent. Some people still say, you know, as how that white figure wa'n't a ghost but the ol' man's crazy wife." "Brrr." Frank shivered in mock terror and grinned in the darkness. "Some place to be," he added. Nevertheless, light though he made of Tom's story, the hour, the circumstances in which they found themselves, the mystery of the windowless room, all combined to inspire in him an uncanny feeling, as if unseen hands were reaching for him from the dark. "Getting out is still our first consideration," Captain Folsom said. "What Barnum reports makes it look difficult, but let's see. Have you tried the door? Is it locked?" "Tried it?" said Tom. "Ain't possible. There ain't neither handle nor knob inside, to pull on. No lock nor keyhole in it, neither. Must be barred on the outside. That's another reason for thinkin' it was built for a prison cell." "And if the old pirate kept a crazy woman in here when she was violent," supplied Jack, "you can bet he built the walls thick to smother her yells. That's why we hear no sounds." There was silence for a time. Each was busy with his own thoughts. The prospect, indeed, looked dark. How could they escape from a cell such as this? Jack was first to break the silence. "Look here," said he, "fresh air is admitted into this room in some fashion, and, probably, as Tom surmised, through an air port in the ceiling. It may be the old pirate even built a trap door in the roof. Obviously, anyhow, our best and, in fact, our only chance to escape lies through the roof. It may be possible to break through there, whereas we couldn't get through walls or the door. Let's investigate." Eager whispers approved the proposal. "Come on, Tom," Jack continued, "we'll investigate that angle in the roof tree. You brace yourself against the wall, and I'll stand on your shoulders." The two moved away with the others close behind them. Jack mounted on Tom Barnum's shoulders. He found the ceiling sloped up to a lofty peak. Running his hands up each slope, he could discern no irregularity. But, suddenly, nearing the top, where the sides drew together, he felt a strong draught of air on his hands. Their positions at the time were this: Tom was leaning against the end wall, with Jack on his shoulders, and facing the wall. The ceiling sloped upward on each side and it was up these slopes Jack had been running his hands. Tall as he was, and standing upright, his head still was some feet from the roof tree above, where the sloping sidewalls joined. When he felt the inrush of air on his hands, which were then above his head, Jack reached forward. He encountered no wall at all. But, about a foot above his head, instead, his fingers encountered the edge of an opening in the end wall and under the roof tree. Trembling with excitement, he felt along the edge from side wall to side wall, and found the opening was more than two feet across. Not a word had been said, meanwhile, not a whisper uttered. Now, leaning down, and in a voice barely audible, Jack whispered to the anxious group at his feet: "Fellows, there's an opening up here under the roof tree. I can't tell yet what it is, but if you hand me up Tom's flashlight I'll have a look at it." Frank passed the little electric torch upward, flashing it once to aid Jack in locating it in the darkness. Again Jack straightened up carefully. Holding the flat little flashlight between his teeth, he gripped the edge of the opening and chinned himself. Then, holding on with one hand, with the other he manipulated the flashlight. One glance was sufficient. It revealed a tunnel-like passage under the roof tree. This passage was triangular in shape, with the beam of the roof tree at the peak, the sloping, unplastered sides of the roof and a flat, solid floor. It extended some distance forward, apparently, for the rays of the flashlight did not reveal any wall across it. The floor was solidly planked, probably a yard wide, instead of two feet-plus of Jack's original estimate, and the height from floor to roof tree was all of two and a half feet. Laying down the flashlight, Jack drew himself over the edge of the opening. Then, moving cautiously forward in the darkness, not daring to throw the light ahead of him for fear of betraying his presence, he crawled on hands and knees. The draught of air through the passageway was strong, and he had not proceeded far before he saw ahead faint bars across the passage, not of light but of lesser darkness. He decided there was some opening at the end of the passage, but could not imagine what it might be. When he came up to it, however, the solution was simple. Immediately under the peak of the roof tree, in a side wall, was an opening in which was set a slatted shutter. This admitted air, yet kept rain from beating in. And in a flash, Jack realized to what ingenious lengths the original owner of the house had gone in order to provide for his prisoner a cell that would be virtually soundproof, yet have a supply of fresh air. So high, too, was the opening of the passage in the cell that one person could not reach it unaided. Jubilant at his discovery and with a plan for putting it to use as a means of escape, Jack, unable to turn about in the narrow passage, worked his way backward until the projection of his feet into emptiness warned him he had reached the room. Then he let himself down and, when once more with his companions, explained the nature of his discovery. "We can lift that shutter out," he added, "and swing upward to the roof tree. There is a cupola, an old-fashioned cupola, on this house, as I remember it. Once we are on the roof, we can work our way to that cupola and probably find a trapdoor leading down into the house. If we decide that is too dangerous, we may be able to slide down the gutters. Anyhow, once we are in the outer air and on the roof, we'll be in a better position than here. Come on. I'll go up first, and then help Captain Folsom up. Do the rest of you follow, and, as Frank is the lightest, he ought to come last. The last man will have to be pulled up with our belts, as he will have nobody to stand on." CHAPTER XIII THE TABLES TURNED Negotiation of the entrance of all into the passageway was made without accident, Tom Barnum staying until next to last and then, with a number of belts buckled together, aiding Frank to gain the opening. Meanwhile Jack, who was in the lead, found on closer investigation that the slatted shutter obscuring the air port was on hinges and caught with a rusted latch. To open the latch and unhinge the shutter and then, by turning it sideways, pull it back into the passageway and place it noiselessly on the floor, was a comparatively simple matter. Whispering to Captain Folsom, next in line, to pass the word along that all should stay in the passageway while he investigated the situation outside, Jack squirmed partway through the opening, faced upward, took a good clutch on the shingled edge of the rooftree and gradually drew his body out and over the edge of the roof. When, finally, he lay extended on the roof, clutching the saddle for support, he was of the opinion that Captain Folsom with only one arm to aid him, certainly could not negotiate the exit in similar fashion, and examined the shingles to see whether they could be torn up sufficiently to admit of his friends climbing through. The moon shone brilliantly. On that side of the house were no lights in any windows. No sounds of any human activity came to him. The house was large, with numerous gables that prevented Jack from seeing seaward. Leaning over the edge of the roof, he called in a low voice to Captain Folsom who looked up from the little window. Jack told him to wait, and explained he was going to try to rip off a number of shingles. "But the crosspieces to which the shingles are nailed are close together," Captain Folsom objected. "They are too close to permit of our crawling through. And, while they are light and might be broken, yet we would make considerable noise doing so and might give the alarm." Jack considered a moment. "That's true," he replied. "But, if I break off the shingles around the peak of the roof, here at the very end, you will have a better chance to climb out, then, because you will have the exposed crosspieces to cling to." Working rapidly, Jack managed to remove a patch of shingles over a space of several square feet, in short order. By the exercise of extreme caution, he was enabled to complete the work without making other than very slight noise. "Now," he said, speaking through the bars made by the crosspieces, "come ahead, Captain. Put your head backward out of the window, and place your hand just where I tell you. I shall hook my feet under these crosspieces to brace myself. That will leave both hands free to aid you." Captain Folsom followed directions, and with Jack lending his support, he managed to gain the roof. Then Bob, Tom Barnum and Frank followed in quick succession. To make room for them, Jack and Captain Folsom had worked their way along the rooftree, which was not the main rooftree of the house, they had discovered, but that of one of the side gables, with which, as Jack phrased it, "the house was all cluttered up." This particular rooftree was blocked ahead by the cupola, to which Jack earlier had referred. It was a square, truncated tower with a breast-high wooden balustrade around it. Jack climbed up this balustrade, and Captain Folsom, with Bob aiding him from the rear and Jack giving him a hand in front, followed. Then, while the others were clambering up, Jack cast a quick look around from this eminence. He found, however, that the trees of the grove cut off any view of the beach. But he was enabled to see the grill-like towers of the radio station some distance to the left of the house. With satisfaction, he noted not a light was shown, and apparently the place was deserted. Still not a sound of human activity of any sort reached him, and Jack was puzzled. Had their captors departed, and left them bound, in that apparently impregnable cell, to die? He could not believe it. No, surely they were not to be killed. Either the house was to be abandoned by the smugglers, and their friends and families would be notified where to find them, or else, the smugglers intended to return for them presently. If this latter supposition were correct, then, thought Jack, it behooved him to act quickly. For, if the smugglers returned and found they had escaped from the cell, there would be only one conclusion to draw as to their method of escape, and that would be the right one. Bending down, he saw at once in the bright moonlight the outlines of a big trapdoor under his feet. A ringbolt at one edge showed how it was raised. Seizing it in a firm grip, Jack started to raise the trap. His heart beat suffocatingly. What would he find underneath? An inch at a time Jack raised the trap, while the others knelt at the sides, peering through the growing opening. Only darkness met their gaze, and the smell of hot air imprisoned in a closed house came out like a blast from a furnace door. The hinges, apparently long unused and rusted, creaked alarmingly despite all the care Jack exercised. But not a sound came up from below. At length Jack threw back the door, and the bright moonlight pouring down the opening in a flood of silver revealed a narrow, ladder-like stairway descending to an uncarpeted hall. Jack started down with the others at his heels. In the hall he paused, to once more accustom his eyes to the dimness which now, however, was not impenetrable, as in their cell, because of the moonlight. Presently he was able to make out a long hall with only two doors breaking the double expanse of wall. One door, on the right, was massive and over it was a huge iron bar in a socket. "That's the door to the cell they had us in," said Frank, with conviction, as they stood grouped before it. "Brrr. We'd have had a fine chance to break that down." Leading the way and walking on the balls of his feet, shoes in hand, Jack moved forward to the other door and had just laid his hand on the knob and was about to turn it, when he heard voices on the other side and the sound of footsteps mounting upward. His mind worked lightning-fast in this crisis. It was the door of a stairway leading to the lower part of the house. Somebody was ascending it, not one man but several. They could have only one purpose. There was only one room up here on this upper floor--the cell. Therefore, whoever was coming up intended to visit them, thinking they still were in that room. These thoughts flashed through Jack's mind in less time than it took a man to mount a step. And, as quickly, he thought of a plan. Turning to his companions, he whispered: "Quick, get back to the cupola stairs, Frank, because you're nearest. Then run up and lower the trapdoor, and crouch outside until I call you. The rest of us can crouch down in this little space beyond the door, and we'll be hidden by it when the door swings open." Frank was off on noiseless feet, while the other four huddled into the space indicated by Jack. By the time the men mounting the stairs swung the door inward, Frank had succeeded in gaining the cupola. The noise made by the rusted hinges, as the trap was lowered was covered up by the voices of the men. Fortunately, they did not close the stair door, but left it standing open, thus hiding the four behind it. There were three in the party, judging by the sound of voices and footsteps, and one at least carried a powerful electric flashlight. "Thought I heard a scratching sound," said a voice, which Jack and Bob recognized as that of Higginbotham. "But I guess it was made by mice. This old house is filled with them." A few steps farther along the party paused, and Jack, looking from his hiding place, saw three figures, shadowy and indistinct, before the huge door of the cell, upon which one man had thrown the light, while another was fumbling at the bar. The door swung open, and the three walked in. "Come on," whispered Jack. Not waiting for the others, realizing it would be only a moment or two before their disappearance from the cell would be discovered, he leaped from hiding, tore down the little hall like a whirlwind, dashed against the great door and swung it into place. Bob, who was close at his heels, dropped the iron bar into place. They were not a moment too soon. Shouts of amazement and alarm came from the room even as the door was swinging shut. And hardly had Bob dropped the bar into the socket than those within threw themselves against the door. So tremendously thick and strong was the latter, however, that with its closing all sound from within was reduced to the merest whisper. As for trying to move it, as well attempt to push an elephant over by hand. This those within must have realized, for presently they desisted. "Got 'em in their own cage," said Jack, triumphantly. And, pulling from his pocket Tom Barnum's little flashlight, he reassured himself the door really was barred, then mounting the stairway thumped on the trapdoor as a signal to Frank. The latter at once raised the door. "Come on down, Frank," said Jack. "There were three of them, and we penned them in the cell." Hastily he explained what had occurred. "Now, fellows," said he. "Let's see who else is downstairs. Let's see if we can't get out of here, so we can radio Lieutenant Summers for help." "But how about leaving these chaps behind, Jack?" protested Bob. "They can get out the same way we did, and give the alarm. What we want to do is to bring Lieutenant Summers to the scene without letting these rascals get an inkling of what's hanging over them. If Higginbotham and his companions escape, he'll start a search for us, and our plans will stand a fair chance of being spoiled." "You're right, Bob," said Jack. "But what can we do? They can't get out of there in a minute. It will take them some time because, for one reason, they will be fearful of our lying in wait for them, perhaps. Meantime, we can be moving fast. Captain Folsom," he added, deferring to the older man, "what do you think we ought to do?" But the latter laid his sound arm on Jack's shoulder. "Listen," he cautioned. Muffled, but distinct, there came an outbreak of pistol shots, followed by shouts faintly heard. "What I feared," said Captain Folsom. "They are out on the roof already, and shooting and calling to attract help. Come. We have no time to lose." Fumbling his way along the dark hall toward the stair door, he said: "Quick, Hampton, with your light. I can't find the knob. Ah"--as the light of the little torch winked on--"that's better." He pulled the door open, and started down the stairs, Jack at his shoulder and flashing the light ahead. The others crowded at their heels. CHAPTER XIV THROUGH THE TUNNEL At the foot of the stairway was another door, and this stood open. It gave upon another hallway, carpeted richly, and dim, yet not so dark but what Captain Folsom could see his way. This faint illumination came up a great open stairway from a wide and deep living room below into which descended another stairway at the far end of the hall. A male voice, not unmusical, singing a rousing chorus in Italian, and peering circumspectly through an open balustrade into that lower room, Captain Folsom saw the singer seated at a great square piano, a giant of a man with a huge shock of dark brown hair and ferocious mustaches, while a coal black negro, even huger in size, lolled negligently at one end of the keyboard, his red lips parted wide in a grin of enjoyment and ivory white teeth showing between, and at the other end of the piano, with his elbows planted on the instrument and his head pressed between his hands, stood or rather leaned a rough-looking man of medium height, his grizzled hair all awry where he had run his fingers through it, and wearing a khaki shirt open at the throat. "Sing that again, Pete. What d'ye call it? The Bull Fighter Song, hey? Well, I don't know much about music, but that gits under my skin. Come on." The man called Pete was about to comply, and the Negro was nodding his head in violent approval, when the door from the outside gallery was burst open unceremoniously, and a villainous looking individual whirled into the room in a state of great excitement. Others were behind him but, evidently not daring to venture within, stood grouped in the open doorway. "Here, Mike, wot d'ye mean, comin' in like this? Into a gentleman's house, too. Don't ye know any better, ye scut?" demanded the first speaker, he who had asked for a repetition of the song. Evidently, thought Captain Folsom, here was the leader, for the other deferred to him, although it was apparent he was a privileged character. "Ah, now, Paddy Ryan," said the man called Mike; "ah, now, Paddy Ryan, sure an' I know 'tis a gentleman's house since you rule it. But do them fellers on the roof know it?" "Fellers on the roof?" said Ryan, advancing a step, threateningly. "Mike, ye been drinkin' again. An' the night's work not done yet. Out on ye, ye--ye----" "Listen," said Mike, holding up a hand. "Listen. 'Tis all I ask. Sure an' wid Pete caterwaulin', 'tis no wonder at all ye cannot hear wot's goin' on. Hear the shootin' now, don't ye?" As if he were a magician calling the demonstration into being at command, the shooting and shouting of the trio on the roof, which for the moment had died down, was now violently renewed. Ryan's lower jaw dropped open grotesquely. "Now will ye believe me?" demanded Mike, triumphantly. "Who--who is it?" asked Ryan, still in the grip of his astonishment. "How should we know?" asked Mike. "We was comin' up from the beach wid another cargo o' the stuff when we hear it." "Mistuh Higginbotham went up to de roof wid two men," interposed the gigantic negro. "Leastways, he done went up to see 'bout dem prisonahs an' ax 'em a few quistions." "You're right, George," said Ryan. "I'd forgotten. Listen to that. There they go again. Come on." He darted for the outer door, the negro George, Pete and Mike at his heels. The crowd of mixed whites and blacks in the doorway gave 'way before him. In a trice they all were gone. The room was deserted. "Now is our chance," said Captain Folsom, to the three boys and Tom Barnum, crouching beside him. "Come on. We must get downstairs and out of the house before they return, for return they will as soon as they understand what the fellows on the roof have to tell of our mysterious disappearance." He darted down the stairs, two at a time, with the four others close behind him. Halfway across the big room, however, he halted abruptly and groaned: "Too late. They're coming back." "Here," cried Jack, seizing him by an arm, and pushing him along. "Quick, fellows, through this door. It's a chance." Jack had observed a closed door, near the piano, and the others followed pell-mell behind him and Captain Folsom. Frank, the last to enter, closed the door and, finding his hand encounter a key, turned it in the lock. None too soon. They could hear shouts and curses, as the mob surged up the stairway. Jack, meanwhile, had been flashing Tom's torch about and, discovering a wall switch, had pressed a button. At once an electric light in the ceiling flashed on, revealing that they were in a large pantry. Bottles of liquor stood about and, on a tray, were a number of sandwiches. "That black butler was preparing to feed his boss," surmised Frank. "Well, those chicken sandwiches look all right. I'm goin' to have one. Hungry." And without more ado, Frank took a sandwich and began eating. "Great stuff," he said. "Say, you, come on," called Jack, smiling a little, nevertheless, despite his anxiety. "Think of eating at a time like this!" "Why not?" said Frank, polishing off the first sandwich and taking another. "Well, lead on, Macduff. Where you going?" "There's no way out of this except by the cellar," Jack replied, already having opened the other door of the pantry and shot the rays of his searchlight down the stairway. "Shall we try it?" "We can't stay here," answered Captain Folsom. "They're searching the rooms above us right now, by the sound of it. Soon they'll be down here. And we can't go out through the living room, because I've withdrawn the key and peeped through the keyhole in the door and can see two men on guard at the foot of the stairway." Tom Barnum up to this moment had had little to say. Now, however, he came forward with a remark that caused the others to stare in amazement. "There's said to be a secret passage from the cellar to Starfish Cove or thereabouts," he said. "I don't know nothin' about it, but that's what folks say. They say as how old Pirate Brownell was afraid his sins would catch up with him some day, and hoped to escape by the passage when the avengers came. He couldn't do it, however. He wasn't quick enough." "A secret passage?" said Jack. "Come on. Last man closes the cellar door and locks it from the inside." Frank was the last to go. Before quitting the pantry, he stuffed the remaining sandwiches into his trousers pockets, seized on a tremendous butcher knife which was lying on the butler's cabinet, and switched off the light. Then he locked the cellar stairway door, and descended to where the others awaited him at the foot. They stood, as well as they could discern, in the midst of a huge cellar piled high with cases upon cases of bottles and barrels, too. "Whew," said Captain Folsom, "this looks like a bonded liquor warehouse. If we could only raid this place right now, it would be the richest haul in the history of the country since the nation went dry." "Is all this liquor?" asked Frank, incredulously. "It is," said Captain Folsom, pulling a bottle from the nearest case and examining the label critically. "And it's the genuine stuff, too. Brought in from the Bahamas. English and Scotch whiskey." Louder shouts overhead and the noise of many feet descending stairs warned them the pursuit had drawn to the ground floor, and that they were in momentary danger of discovery. "Those two doors won't hold long," said Jack, anxiously. "If we can't find that tunnel entrance, we are out of luck. I think myself, we had better look for a door to the outside and try to escape that way." At that moment, Tom Barnum's voice, low but tense and thrilling with excitement, came out of the darkness ahead. "Mister Jack, Mister Jack, come here. Here where ye see my light." The others had not missed Tom before. But immediately on reaching the cellar, he had gone exploring by the light of the matches he had found in his pockets, without troubling Jack for the flashlight. Hurriedly, the others now made their way to where a dim gleam of light which went out before they reached it only to be succeeded by another, showed where Tom was awaiting them. When they reached his side, they found him crouched at the foot of a wall, pushing and straining at a big barrel. "Lend a hand," he panted. "The entrance is back here." Almost over their heads on the floor above, an attack was made at this moment on the door connecting living room and pantry. They could hear the shouts to surrender, to unlock the door, and the blows being rained upon the barrier. "Push. It's a-movin'." The barrel did move aside sufficiently to admit of a man getting between it and the wall, and in the rays of the flashlight appeared a small, door-like opening in the stone. "In with ye, every one," said Tom. "I'll pile a couple o' these cases on top of each other to cover up the entrance, an' climb over it." The door above, the first of the two impeding pursuit, fell with a splintering crash. There was a shout of triumph, giving way to surprise when the pantry was found untenanted. Captain Folsom and the boys without more delay crawled into the opening. They could hear Tom piling cases over the entrance, then a thud as, having climbed his barricade, he dropped to the cellar floor on the inside. Then he joined them. Once more, Jack called the precious flashlight into play, and all could see they stood in a narrow, brick-walled tunnel, with a vaulted roof above. It was some four feet high, preventing them from standing upright, and the walls were a yard apart. The next moment the flashlight flickered and died. "Gone," said Jack. "Burned out. Now we are ditched." "Not yet," said Captain Folsom, resolutely. "Barnum, how many matches have you?" "About a dozen left in this packet," answered Tom's voice in the darkness. "But they're them paper things the cigar companies give away. Got 'em the other day when I was to the village. They're not much good." "They're better than nothing," answered the captain. "They were good enough to enable you to find this tunnel. Come, there's no need to despair. I've got some matches myself, big ones. I'll give them to you, and do you lead the way." Striking a match, he located Tom behind him. Handing him a dozen big matches which he had found in a trousers pocket, he pressed against the wall to permit of Tom's passing him. The others did likewise. "Keep right behind me an' touchin' each other," said Tom. "I can feel the wall on each side with my hands, an' so can the rest of ye as we go along. I'll save the matches till we need them." Without more ado, he set out, Jack, Bob, Frank and Captain Folsom at his heels in the order mentioned. They found that, despite the pitchy-black darkness, they were able to make good progress, for the narrow confines of the tunnel permitted of no going astray. All kept listening with strained attention for sounds of pursuit, but none came for so long they began to feel more hopeful. Perhaps, their pursuers did not know of the secret passage. No, that was unlikely, inasmuch as one or other of the smugglers must have seen the tunnel mouth when he placed that barrel before it. Faint shouts from the cellar came to their ears, indicating a search for them was in progress there. The smugglers probably would look to see whether they were hidden among the barrels and cases, and not until that search had been thoroughly prosecuted would they investigate the tunnel. These reflections were exchanged among them as they proceeded. Suddenly the air, which had been remarkably fresh, although earthy-smelling, became cleaner. All felt they were approaching an exit. The next moment Tom Barnum stumbled and fell forward. CHAPTER XV RESCUE AT HAND For a moment Tom could be heard muttering rueful exclamations as he caressed his bruises. Jack who was next in line was trying to help him to his feet. His foot, too, struck an obstruction which caused him to lose balance. To avoid falling on Tom, he put out his arms toward the walls. Instead of meeting solid brickwork as before, however, he felt his hands encounter crumbling earth. He lurched forward, and his face was buried in a mass of mould. Spluttering and blowing, he scrabbled around and his fingers closed over a root. It came away in his clutch. The next moment a slide of earth cascaded downward and Jack found himself leaning against a bank of dirt, an uprooted bush in one hand, and a patch of moonlight and sky overhead. It was all clear. Where the tunnel approached close to the surface, the roof and walls had caved in. Tom had stumbled over this mound and fallen, and Jack accidentally had torn away the screen of bushes obscuring the hole above. "Come on, fellows," he cried, delightedly, scrambling upward, while Tom Barnum, who had regained his feet and observed how the land lay, boosted him; "come on, here's a place to get out of the tunnel." Quickly the others followed. They stood in the midst of a grove of trees. Some distance to the rear twinkled lights which indicated the location of the Brownell house. No sounds of pursuit reached them. But, stay. What was that? Captain Folsom bent down, his ear close to the opening whence they had climbed out and up to the surface. "They've found the tunnel, I'm afraid," he said. "They are coming." "Can't we keep 'em back here?" said Bob, unexpectedly. "We can kick more dirt down into the tunnel. And we can jump down and heave out a lot of those fallen bricks, and so keep the gang back when they arrive." "But we couldn't keep up a defense like that forever," objected Jack. "Some of them would be bound to go back through the tunnel, swing around, and attack us from the rear. They have weapons, and we haven't. We'd be caught between two fires." Bob grunted. "Guess you're right. But I hate all this running away. I'd like to take a crack at them. Never gave me a fair chance the first time, jumping on me in a gang, and when I had my back turned, too." "I know how you feel, Bob," said Jack. "But, without weapons, run we must. And we had better be quick about it now, too. They won't be long working through that tunnel, if they have lights." "No, the shouts are growing closer," said Captain Folsom, bending down again to the hole. "But, look here, Hampton, you make a run to that radio station which I see above the trees there, to the right, in that opening. We'll stay here until they reach the hole. Then we'll batter them with bricks, and flee to the left. That will create a diversion, and give you a chance to try to raise Lieutenant Summers." "Good idea," grunted Bob, immediately dropping into the hole and tossing out broken bricks from the crumbling walls. "Don't let them get too close to you," warned Jack. "They're armed. And run toward home. They won't follow far. I'll rejoin you somewhere along the beach beyond the boundary fence, if you wait for me." "We'll wait, if they don't make us run too far," promised Captain Folsom. "In that case, make your way home. And if you cannot get Lieutenant Summers by radio, don't endanger yourself by delaying too long around here. Now go." With a nod of understanding, Jack turned and darted down the forest aisles toward the radio station. Who would he find there? He wondered. Or, would the station be deserted? That it was in working order, there was no doubt, for it was the station's issue of radio control to the liquor containers offshore which they had overheard before deciding to investigate. Clutching the big butcher knife, the only weapon in the party, which Frank had pressed into his hand as he set out on his lonely mission, Jack dashed ahead recklessly through the trees. The radio plant of the smugglers burst full on his sight, as he came to the edge of the trees fringing a little clearing. No lights showed. Nevertheless, he paused to reconnoitre, asking himself how best to approach it to avoid discovery in case it should have an occupant. As he stood there, a sudden outburst of shouts to the rear, followed by a few revolver shots, warned him the pursuers had reached the hole in the tunnel. He hoped big Bob was controlling his recklessness, and not running into danger. If his friends kept down, there was no great danger of their being shot, for only one man at a time could approach through the tunnel and him they could pelt into retreat with their bricks. The shots ceased. The shouts died. Jack grinned in satisfaction. The enemy had been halted. Now, if his friends only utilized their opportunity to hurry away before being attacked from the rear, all would be well. He listened with strained attention. No further sounds of combat reached him. Meanwhile, he had been examining the ground. The moon was low down. What time had they left home? Two o'clock? By the look of the moon it must be near four now. That would be about right. Although it seemed a lifetime, although an excess of excitement had been crowded into that period, still only about two hours had elapsed. Having the door of the radio station in full view, and observing no signs of life, as would have been the case providing some one had been present, for he would have been drawn to the door by this new and closer outburst of fighting, Jack decided to chance crossing the glade directly. Darting ahead, he crouched listening, heard nothing, then flung wide the door which opened outward and sprang back. The moonlight fell full inside a long bar of light. The sending room, at least, was empty. Now for the power plant. Jack entered, going warily, knife clutched in his hand, despite his growing confidence that he had the place to himself. There was a door at the rear. Behind that must be the power plant. He set his ear to the door. Only the low hum of a dynamo came to his ears. He had expected that, for wiring glimpsed outside the Brownell house and leading in this direction through the trees had indicated the house current was supplied from the power house here. But was anyone in that other room, in attendance? There was a key in the connecting door. He tried the handle softly. The door was locked. Good. At least he would be safe from surprise from that quarter. All the while, in order to guard against surprise from the outside, he had been standing sideways, one eye on the outer door. Now something glimpsed there surprised an exclamation from him. It was not that anyone appeared in the doorway. No, but offshore and not far distant a bright searchlight suddenly cut athwart the night, putting the moonlight to shame. It swung in a wide arc across the sky and then came down to the shore and began moving relentlessly along the beach. He could not follow its movements fully. He could not see whence it came. The grove of trees intervening between the shore of Starfish Cove and the radio plant cut off complete view. But a wild hope leaped into his mind. Would the smugglers in the liquor ship offshore be likely to show a light? He did not consider it likely. Then, what sort of ship was it probable the light came from? "By George," he said aloud, "maybe that's a boat of the 'Dry Navy' already on the track of these scoundrels." He stood, gazing at that finger of light, spellbound. What else could the ship be that would be casting a searchlight along the shore, along this particular stretch of shore of all places, and at this particular time, what else could it be than a government boat? Breaking the spell that bound him, he sprang to the instrument table, seized and adjusted a headpiece, pulled a transmitter to him, threw over the rheostat and adjusting the tuner to the 575 meter wave length which Captain Folsom had told him the government boats employed, he began calling. What should he say if a government boat replied? He decided on a plan of procedure. Presently his receivers crackled, and he manipulated the controls until the sputtering ceased, when he heard a voice saying: "U. S. Revenue Cutter Nark. Who is calling?" Scarcely able to control his excitement at this almost unbelievable good luck, Jack stammered in reply. Then getting a grip on his emotions, he replied: "Speaking for Captain Folsom. Is Lieutenant Summers aboard? Are you offshore?" "We're offshore, all right," answered his correspondent, in a tone of the utmost surprise. "But how in the world do you know?" "I want to speak to Lieutenant Summers," answered Jack, grinning to himself at the other's bewilderment. Even at this crucial moment, he could not resist the temptation to mystify the other a little. "As to knowing you're offshore," he added, "I can see you." "See us? Say, this is too much for me. Wait till I call Lieutenant Summers," said the other. "Did you say Captain Folsom?" "That's the name," said Jack. "Hurry, please. This is a matter of life and death." Almost at once another voice took up the conversation, and from the tone of crisp authority, Jack sensed it must be the officer he had asked for speaking. Such, indeed, was the case. Lieutenant Summers was aboard the Nark, directing operations, and, as the radio room was in the chart house of the cutter, he had intervened on hearing his operator mention his own name and that of his colleague, Captain Folsom. "Now, what's this all about?" he demanded. "Is Captain Folsom there? If so, put him on the phone." "Are you Lieutenant Summers, sir?" asked Jack, respectfully. "I am. Who are you? Where are you calling from? Where is Captain Folsom?" "He's not here," said Jack, "but I am speaking for him. He's in grave danger ashore. Moreover, he wanted me to call for you, and if you are offshore near Starfish Cove--that's a little bay far down the south shore of Long Island--and if it's your ship that is playing a searchlight on the beach, then it's a miracle, sir. I'll try to explain." Briefly as possible, then, Jack detailed the necessary facts for putting Lieutenant Summers in touch with the situation. "Good," said Lieutenant Summers, in conclusion; "very good, indeed. We have received a tip liquor was to be landed somewhere along this coast to-night, and were scouting when you saw our light. It's a piece of luck, as you say. Do you think our searchlight has been seen by these rascals?" "Probably," said Jack, "although I don't know. Captain Folsom and my friends may have kept them so busily engaged, they had no time to keep a lookout at sea." "Well, I'll throw off the searchlight at once, anyhow. We want no advertising. I'll come in close and land my boats. Can you be at the beach to guide us?" "I'll be there," replied Jack. "Very well. We're about a mile offshore. We should land in fifteen minutes. Good-bye." Jack took off the headpiece, threw the rheostat back to zero, and looked about him, as if dazed. He could hardly believe his luck. CHAPTER XVI BOB REDEEMS HIMSELF After Jack's departure the group which he left at the tunnel exit worked busily making what preparations were possible to receive their pursuers. Big Bob, who had jumped down into the opening, kept tossing out bricks at a furious rate, and Frank joined him and did likewise. Meanwhile, by the light of his matches, aided by the moonlight, which here in the woods, however, was not direct enough to be of any great help, Tom Barnum investigated the ground about the hole. "As soon as the boys get out o' there," he reported to Captain Folsom, "we can all four of us kick down enough dirt to block up the tunnel pretty well. The earth is loose around here. That must'a been a recent cave-in. By yanking up some o' these bushes I already loosened the soil some more." "Very good," said Captain Folsom, who had been listening closely to the sounds coming through the tunnel. "They're getting too close for comfort. I agree with you in believing this must have been a recent cave-in. I believe it is unsuspected by the enemy. They are coming along through that tunnel and making plenty of noise, as if they expected to have a considerable distance to go and fancied us pretty far ahead." "We'll give 'em a surprise," said Tom, grinning. The watchman-mechanic of the Hampton radio plant was still a young man. He had served in France. And he was enjoying the situation. "Come out now, Temple. And you, Merrick," said Captain Folsom, in a whisper. "To stay any longer would be only to expose yourselves needlessly. You have thrown out a lot of ammunition, as it is. Besides," he added, as he and Tom helped the others climb to the surface, "we want to kick down this dirt to block the tunnel." The others followed Tom to the lip of the cave-in, overhanging the tunnel, and, exercising care to avoid tumbling in, succeeded in kicking down sufficient earth to more than half fill the opening. Little more than a foot of open space remained, after uprooted bushes had been thrown down on top of the earth. Working feverishly and in a silence broken only by the dull sounds of the falling dirt, they had completed their task when the nearer approach of voices and of stumbling footfalls within the tunnel warned them to desist. Bob and Frank on one side of the slight opening, Captain Folsom and Tom Barnum on the other, they threw themselves prone on the ground. The bricks had been divided into two piles, one by the side of each pair. They were none too soon. Barely had they taken their positions when the first man of the pursuers, proceeding without a light, stumbled against the dirt they had kicked down, and fell forward into the tangle of uprooted bushes. He let out a wild yell: "Murder. Save me." Bob raised himself on one hand, craned forward, took good aim at the hole, and let drive with a chunk of broken brick. There was a crack, a howl of anguish, succeeded by an outbreak of curses, as, following Bob's example, his companions also poured in a fire of brickbats from each side. Several scattered revolver shots rang out, but, as all again had thrown themselves prone on the ground, the bullets sped harmlessly overhead. After waiting a moment, Bob again let drive with a piece of brick. That his aim was good was attested by a howl of anguish, succeeded this time not by more shots but by a scurrying sound of retreat. Evidently, the one or two men in the forefront had had enough, and had withdrawn into the tunnel. By holding their breath and listening intently, they could, in fact, hear sounds of scuffling that indicated a considerable number of men were within the tunnel and were moving backward on each other to get away from the danger zone. Suddenly to Bob's ears came the sound of a faint groan, not a foot from his head, it seemed to him, as he lay on the very edge of the hole, straining to listen. It startled him, but at once he realized whence it came. One of the pursuers, perhaps the man who had stumbled first into their barricade, must have been knocked out by a missile, and was coming to. Then Bob had a wild idea. Rising to his knees, he peered down into the hole, descried a dark, round object just below him which he took to be the head of a man, and bracing himself with one arm, plunged the other into the hole. Then, while Frank gasped and Tom Barnum swore softly, from the opposite side, in wondering admiration, the big fellow rose to his feet and with a mighty tug pulled an inert body clear through the hole. One look at the face was sufficient for identification despite the blood streaming from an ugly gash over the right temple. It was the man called Mike. His eyelids were fluttering. He was recovering consciousness. "Quick, some of you," gasped Bob, retaining his hold of the body, and holding the fellow up as a fisherman lifts up his catch to admire it; "search him. Get his revolver." Frank sprang to obey, being the nearest. Running his hands up and down the man's body, he was met only with disappointment. But then he felt something bulky at the belt. It was a revolver in a holster. Stripping off the weapon, he once more ran his hands over the fellow's body and, in a trousers' pocket, found a handful of bullets, which he abstracted. Mike now began to squirm, and lash out with his heels. "Got them?" gasped Bob. "Yes," said Frank. "Searched him twice." "Then back with you, Mister Mike," said Bob, dropping the other back into the hole. "We want no prisoners on our hands. And, listen," he added, "we've got your revolver. Just tell that to your friends if they get inquisitive and want to follow us." A curse was his answer. Then they could hear Mike start to scramble back through the tunnel, and to call to his mates. "My boy," said Captain Folsom, "I want to tell you that was one of the quickest bits of work I've ever seen. You certainly have put a different complexion on matters." "Oh, that was just a bit of luck," said Bob. "When I heard him groan, it came to me all in a flash what to do." "Look here," interrupted Frank, "thanks to Bob, we have stalled off pursuit. Besides, we have a revolver now. I don't feel like running off and leaving Jack. The way things have turned out, we can get away without being discovered, anyhow, so we wouldn't be drawing anybody away from Jack's trail if we did go in the opposite direction. Let's run for it before they get a chance to circle back through the tunnel and house, but head for the radio station instead of home. What say?" "Right," said Captain Folsom. "You chaps certainly know how to use your heads. Come on." And swinging about, he started running through the trees in the direction taken by Jack a few short minutes before. They had not gone far, however, before another volley of revolver shots broke out behind them. "That's at the tunnel again," said Captain Folsom, pausing to listen. "They must realize that we wouldn't stay there, so, although they will be cautious, it won't be long before they come out of the tunnel." "Yes," said Frank, "and some of them have gotten out already, and are coming down from the house." For, as he spoke, from farther back in the woods bullets began to fly. The party from the house was shooting as they came. "I don't think they've seen us yet," said Bob. "The moon is pretty low down and these trees are thick. Anyhow, they wouldn't expect us to take this course, as it is away from our home. Come on." The shrubbery was less dense now, thinning out, as they neared the clearing in which the radio station was located. Dashing ahead, they cleared the last of the trees and started across the clearing. As they drew nearer the station, heading for the doorway, where the outward-swinging door stood open, Jack saw the four figures in the moonlight and, believing them foes, sprang up from the seat by the instrument table, and dashed out to try to escape. Running at top speed as he hit the sand, he started in the opposite direction. Bob, however, had an advantage Jack did not possess. He was looking for Jack at the station, and was quick to recognize the familiar figure. Jack, not expecting his friends here, naturally considered the approaching figures those of some of the smugglers. "Hey, Jack, it's us," Bob called. Jack knew that voice. There was no mistake. He paused, dumbfounded, and spun about. Then he started to retrace his steps. The others, pretty well blown, slowed down their pace. As they approached, Jack called: "I wasn't looking for you, and thought you some of the other fellows. How did you happen to change your plans and come here?" Frank started to explain. But this was not time for explanations. Paddy Ryan, heading a dozen of his men, had seen the four fleeing through the woods and followed. At this moment the pursuers reached the edge of the clearing. The first intimation which any of the five, engrossed in their meeting, had of the near approach of the enemy, was an outburst of bullets, some of which sang unpleasantly close while others kicked up the sand around them. None, however, took effect. Where the others had come up with Jack was near a corner of the radio plant. All leaped for cover behind it. With a yell of triumph, Paddy Ryan jumped out into the clearing, his men at his heels. Frank, who carried the captured revolver and spare ammunition taken from the man called Mike, realized it was distinctly up to him to halt the enemy, if possible. He did not want to shoot to kill, although he knew that the others had no such compunctions, especially since Higginbotham must be aware that if they escaped he would be a ruined man, as they would be able to identify him. Nevertheless, the emergency demanded action. All this passed through his mind in a twinkling. Then he peered out from behind the shelter of the radio station, took deliberate aim, and fired. The leading figure, that of Paddy Ryan, stumbled, lurched forward and fell. Some of the others in the pursuing party paused, others came on. Once more Frank fired. A second man, the foremost, fell. It was sufficient to deter the others. While some ran back helter-skelter for the shelter of the woods, others threw themselves prone in the sand, and began to shoot from that position. "I shot them in the legs," said Frank. His voice trembled. His legs felt weak, his hands numb. It was with an effort he refrained from dropping the revolver. Like his chums, Frank was a crack shot, for Mr. Temple early had accustomed them to the use of rifle and shotgun, and the previous summer in New Mexico Tom Bodine, their cowboy friend, had given all three valuable instructions in revolver shooting. Nevertheless, to take deliberate aim at a human being was unnerving. It was only the realization that the safety of his comrades hung on his aim that had nerved him to the task and steeled his arm. "Steady, old thing," said Bob, patting him on the shoulder. Then, turning to Captain Folsom, he added: "Well, captain, where do we go from here? We've got all Long Island ahead of us. I expect we had better start traveling." "Not at all, Bob," said Jack, unexpectedly. "If we can only hold these fellows off a few minutes more, they'll get the surprise of their lives. I raised Lieutenant Summers by radio. He was close offshore by the greatest of good luck. He's sending a landing party in boats, and I was to meet them at the beach and act as guide." CHAPTER XVII RESCUE ARRIVES Tom Barnum had disappeared. Now he ran up from the rear of the radio station. "Quick, Mister Frank, with that revolver," he said. "They've split up an' the fellows in the woods are trying to work their way around to take us in the rear. I been watchin' from the back side." Frank nodded and started to follow. Then he spun around, ran again to his former vantage point, and sent a couple of bullets towards the figures in the sand. "That'll hold 'em there for a minute," he said. As he ran after Tom Barnum to the other corner of the station on the side which sheltered them, he refilled the emptied chambers of the precious weapon. "There," said Tom Barnum, crouching low, and pointing. Frank tried to follow directions but saw nothing. He pressed the revolver into Tom's hand. "Don't waste time trying to show me," he said. "If you see anybody, shoot." Tom took the weapon, glanced along the barrel, and pressed the trigger. A yell of pain was the response. Twenty yards away there was a crash in the bushes, then silence. "Back to the other corner," said Tom, chuckling, and dashed again to the post from which Frank originally had fired. Frank sat down, with his back against the wall of the station and laughed hysterically. "Golly, but this is a game of hide and seek, all right," he gasped. Again the revolver spoke, a yell followed, and then came a rain of bullets. "Here they come," cried Tom, and in quick succession he pumped out four more shots. Howls and shrieks of anguish rose. Tom was shooting with deadly intent. The attempted rush was halted, broken. The desperadoes composing the attacking force could not stand before that deadly aim. They broke and ran back toward the trees, leaving three figures groveling in the sand. "One for Mister Frank, and three for me, them two and one back behind," said Tom Barnum grimly, to Bob and Jack, who were peering over his shoulder. "That ain't so bad." A cry from Captain Folsom, followed by Frank's voice calling urgently, caused the three to spin around. They were just in time to see one man go down under a terrific blow from the doughty, one-armed officer, while Frank leaped in under the arm of a second desperado, upraised to fire, and brought him crashing down with a flying tackle. "As pretty as I ever saw," muttered Bob. "Old Frank ought to make the All-American team for that." Quick as thought, having felled his man, Captain Folsom stooped down and wrenched a revolver from his grasp, then spun about on his knee and fired just as a third rounded the corner. The man toppled forward. By this time Bob and Jack had reached the scene. But the attack from the rear had spent its force. The three most daring evidently had taken the lead. And the way they had been disposed of deterred the others. A half dozen in number, they hung uncertainly in a group along the wall of the radio station. Captain Folsom helped them make up their minds as to which direction to take by sending several shots over their heads. Without even waiting to reply, they ran for cover toward the trees and bushes at the edge of the clearing. The man whom Frank had tackled capitulated without a struggle, seeing the fight had gone against him. Frank took his revolver. From the fellow whom Captain Folsom had shot, and who proved to be wounded only in the thigh, Bob obtained a revolver. All except Jack were now armed, and he had the butcher knife which Frank had carried away from the Brownell house, although he laughed as he flourished it. "The way you fellows treat our friends," he said, "I expect none of them will come close enough to give me a chance to use this." "Look here," said Captain Folsom, approaching the boys, after having ascertained first that the man whom he had shot had only a flesh wound; "we aren't out of the woods yet. These fellows are determined scoundrels, and they know they can't afford to let us escape. Finding they can't rush us, they will next try to work around through the trees and attack us from this side. I think we had better make a dash around Tom Barnum's corner and get into the radio station." "But how about my going to the beach to meet Lieutenant Summers?" asked Jack. "Our position ought to be evident to him," said Captain Folsom. "He can understand what is going on, and come up cautiously. I can't risk having any of you lads run the gauntlet. I've reproached myself a hundred times already for leading you into danger." "Nonsense, Captain," said Jack. "We volunteered. And we're safe so far, aren't we?" The other shook his head with a smile of admiration. These boys were made of manly stuff. "Come," said he, "there is no time to waste. Any minute we may expect to be peppered from the woods on this side. Here, you two," he added, addressing the two unwounded prisoners, "help your pal and march. We're going into the radio station." The men, young, smooth-shaven and looking like what they were, city toughs, were cowed. Without a word, they moved to obey. "All clear there, Tom?" asked Captain Folsom of Tom Barnum, who had kept up his watch at the forward end of the side wall. "If we move fast we can make it," Tom replied. "There's nobody out here in front but the wounded, an' they're crawlin' to cover." "Good," answered Captain Folsom. "Now, altogether." A quick dash from cover, and the party was safely within the sending room of the station. Jack's first move was to ascertain whether any of the enemy had gained entrance to the power house. He approached the connecting door at the rear of the room. It still was closed and locked. Tom Barnum had taken up his post inside the door, which he had swung shut behind him, not, however, until Frank had found and pressed a wall button which switched on a cluster of electric lights overhead. "Lucky for us there is no other entrance to the power house than through this door," said Jack. "At least there is none, so far as I have seen. If there had been, they might have slipped in that other room, come through here and have gotten close enough to rush us before we could have stopped them." Captain Folsom approached Tom Barnum, after asking the boys to keep an eye on the prisoners. "I see you are keeping watch through a crack in the door," he said. "But, I believe we would be better off with the door open entirely. That would give us a clear view of the side from which attack must come. We can push this big table across the doorway, upending it. So." And, suiting action to word, he and Tom dragged the heavy article of furniture into position. "Now let us push the door open," he said. Just as Tom was about to comply, an outburst of shooting in the clearing split the air. "Hurray," shouted Jack. "The 'Dry Navy' got on the job. Come on, fellows, open the door." As Tom Barnum, who had paused in that very act, stunned by this new development, completed the task and the door swung outward, the others crowded to the barrier of the upended table. Jack's surmise was apparently correct. Along the wall of the radio station were ranged a dozen men. They had been stealing up to pour a hot fire through the door. But Lieutenant Summers with his landing party, drawn to the clearing by the sounds of combat, had made a hurried march up from the beach, and opened fire. His men were advancing across the clearing, scattered out fanwise, crouching and shooting as they came. Taken by surprise, the smugglers were returning only a ragged fire. Seeing how matters stood, Captain Folsom directed the table be pulled away and then, commanding the boys to keep in the background, he and Tom Barnum stepped out to the stoop and poured the contents of their revolvers, fast as they could pump them, into the smugglers. The surprise of the latter was complete. Caught between two fires, they did not know which way to turn. They wavered a moment, then dashed away along the wall of the radio plant in an opposite direction from the door. As they disappeared among the trees, pursued by a detachment of Lieutenant Summer's men, the latter with a half dozen followers dashed up to the radio plant and, in the lighted doorway, recognized the figure of his colleague, Captain Folsom. Greetings were exchanged, and then Captain Folsom called the boys forward and introduced them. "Plucky lads, if ever I met any," he said, warmly, "and resourceful, too. Their ingenuity has pulled us through time and again to-night." "Not to mention," said Bob, gruffly, "that it was my darned foolishness that got us into this scrape to begin with." "Nonsense, my boy," said Captain Folsom. "You did only what any of us would have done in jumping that rascal, Higginbotham. Well, now, let us head for the house. Probably that is where these rascals will take refuge. They must be wondering who you are, Lieutenant, and how you happened to appear on the scene." CHAPTER XVIII HIGGINBOTHAM ESCAPES A hasty marshalling of forces was first made. Besides the three boys, Captain Folsom and Tom Barnum, Lieutenant Summers had twelve men under his command. Thus they numbered eighteen in all. It was decided to split this force into two equal parties, one commanded by Lieutenant Summers, the other by Captain Folsom. Tom Barnum went with Lieutenant Summer's party as guide, the boys with Captain Folsom. They were to move against the front and rear entrances of the house, summon those within to surrender and, if necessary, to blockade the house until surrender was made. As an afterthought, each party detached a man, as they moved up through the woods, to stand guard over the tunnel and thus prevent any who had taken refuge either therein or in the house from making their escape. As it proved, however, when Paddy Ryan discovered he was besieged by government forces, he surrendered without resistance, together with the half dozen men with him. The others had scattered and made their escape. And when the government forces came to take inventory of their prisoners, it was discovered that among those who had fled was Higginbotham. "Ye'll get nothin' out of me," said Ryan sullenly, when he was questioned as to Higginbotham's whereabouts. "He beat it away. That's all I know." Frank's quick eye, however, was caught by the gleam in Ryan's glance, and he suspected the other knew more than he would admit. Drawing his chums to one side, he said in a low voice: "Look here, fellows, I believe Higginbotham is hiding in one of two places. Either he is up in the attic, in that secret passage through which we made our escape from the dark room, or else hiding in the tunnel." "Maybe you're right," said Bob. "But we couldn't ferret him out alone. If he is hiding in either place, he is armed, and would have us at his mercy. A desperate man would shoot. I believe we would be foolhardy to take such a chance." "Let's ask Captain Folsom's advice," suggested Jack, sensibly. Waiting an opportunity, they beckoned Captain Folsom aside and Frank propounded his suspicions. The latter looked thoughtful. "I agree with Temple," he said, emphatically. "I am glad you boys told me of this and did not attempt to make a search by yourselves. Let me see, however, if we cannot evolve some scheme to bring the rascal out, provided he is in hiding in one or other of these places." Facing about, he called: "Ryan, come here." The leader of the smugglers, who stood lined up with his men, including the negro, Mike and Pete, against the wall, under guard, stepped forward. Quickly Captain Folsom explained his suspicions as to where Higginbotham might be in hiding. Then he added: "Higginbotham knows your voice. I want you to go to whichever place he may be hiding and summon him to come out and surrender. Say that if he refuses, I shall not imperil the lives of any of my men by sending them to dig him out, but shall starve him into submission." There was a slight smile of triumph on Paddy Ryan's face as he replied: "Sure, an' I'll go to both places an' whistle in the wind. But it's in nather place he is, for he did not return to the house, I'm tellin' ye." "Do as I say, Ryan," commanded Captain Folsom, shortly. "Try the attic first. The tunnel is guarded, I may as well tell you, and Higginbotham cannot make his escape that way." "All right. You're the captain," said Ryan. "Follow me." As he turned to proceed up the steps, after ordering two sailors to accompany Ryan, Captain Folsom said to the boys and Lieutenant Summers, who had joined the party: "From the way Ryan is acting, I believe he is trying to throw us off the scent, and that Higginbotham really is hidden hereabouts." No reply, however, was received in response to Ryan's announcement of the ultimatum laid down by Captain Folsom, both at the secret passage under the roof and the other underground. "Very well," said Captain Folsom, lips compressed, at the failure of his stratagem. "We shall post guards here until we can decide what to do." Ryan therefore was returned to keep company with the other prisoners under guard in the big living room. In another room the two officers, together with the boys, gathered for a consultation. Tom Barnum, meantime, seeing that dawn had come, and that the first faint streaks of daylight were beginning to light up the woods outside, left the knot of sailors to whom he had been recounting the events of that exciting night and re-entering the house called Jack aside. "Mister Jack," he said. "It'll be broad day in another hour. Don't you think I had better go back and tell the Temples and your housekeeper what's become of you three and of Captain Folsom, too. If they happen to notice you're missin' they'll be worried." "Right, Tom," approved Jack. "But do you think it's safe for you to make the trip alone? Some of these fellows may be lurking in the woods." "Oh," said Tom, "it'll soon be daylight, as I said. Besides, I'll be on the beach. And, anyhow, why should any of them attack me? They'll be runnin' like hares to get away, and none of 'em will be around here." Thereupon Tom set out, and Jack returned to the conference. On his re-entry, he learned the two officers had decided to remove the liquor in the cellar to the beach and thence by boat to the Nark, as the easiest method for getting it to New York and the government warehouses for the storage of confiscated contraband. A sailor appointed to inspect the premises had reported finding a large truck and a narrow but sufficiently wide road through the woods to the beach. Evidently, it was by this method that liquor had been brought from the beach to the house on occasion. This would be a long process, but it was considered better than to attempt to remove the liquor by truck to New York. Only one truck was available, in the first place, and that would not carry more than the smallest portion of the big store of liquor. Before the two officers departed to issue the necessary orders for the carrying out of their plans, Jack for the first time since he had had that one brief glimpse of them at the beginning of their adventure, remembered the torpedo-shaped metal objects on the beach and spoke about them. "I am quite sure they must be great containers controlled by radio," he said. "Probably they were launched from a liquor ship well out to sea, and then brought to shore by radio. I suppose Higginbotham directed the current, although it might have been that thug with him whom you first attacked, Bob. That fellow who said it was he had damaged the airplane. Remember?" "By George, yes," said Bob, starting up, a vengeful expression on his face. "And that reminds me. Where is that particular ruffian, I'd like to know. He isn't among the prisoners." "Maybe, he's among the wounded," suggested Jack. "A half dozen have been gathered up, none seriously wounded, and are out in the kitchen where that apprentice surgeon is fixing them up." He referred to one of the sailors, a medical student who because of ill health had enlisted in the "Dry Navy" in order to obtain an outdoor life. Lieutenant Summers earlier had assigned him to look after the injured. Despite all the shooting that had taken place, none of the sailors had been wounded, and the boys, Captain Folsom and Tom represented, with their injuries from blows, the sole casualties in the government forces. Of the half dozen smugglers injured, moreover, none had been shot other than in the arms or legs. As Lieutenant Summers had explained to the boys, even in pitched battle a good deal of powder and shot was spent often without anybody being injured. Bob made hasty examination of the kitchen and returned to report the man he sought could not be located. He found Jack and Frank awaiting him, the officers having departed to see about preparations for moving the liquor. "Believe me, if I could find that fellow," grunted Bob, and he did not finish the sentence. "Well," said Jack, looking out of the window, "it's daylight now. Let's go down and have a look at those torpedo things on the beach. Then we can take a plunge and go home. I'm beginning to feel let down now, and I could sleep the clock around." The others agreed, and passing through the living room made their way outdoors and headed for the beach. Frank stopped suddenly, and emitted an exclamation of disgust. "We're a fine crowd," he said. "Why hasn't one of us thought of that radio-controlled airplane before? What's become of it?" "Oh, I guess it's somewhere along shore in Starfish Cove," said Jack. "We'll soon see." But arrival at the beach failed to disclose the tiny speedster of the sky. Only the great metal objects lay outstretched above the tide, like so many seal basking in the sun. The disappearance of the plane was temporarily forgotten, while they investigated. As they had surmised, these objects proved to be liquor containers, from several of which the cases of bottled liquor in the holds had not yet been removed. They were replicas of each other. At the rounded end was a propeller driven by an electric motor. A rudder governed by an electric compass imparted direction. A wire trailing overside and a spiral aerial coiled upright about a mast completed the mechanism. "Mighty ingenious," declared Jack, inspecting one of the contrivances. "And it must have cost a pretty sum to build it, too. These liquor smugglers certainly must have money behind them. Until we became involved in this business, I had no idea except in a general way that all this was going on, certainly no idea that it was organized as it is." While Jack and Bob bent above the radio boats, absorbed in examination of them, Frank pursued further search for the missing radio-controlled airplane. Presently he rejoined his comrades with the information that it was to be found nowhere along the shore and that apparently it had not drifted away, as at first he had suspected might have been the case, because the sun had risen now and except for the Nark and her two boats drawn upon shore, there was nothing in sight. Suddenly, as he concluded his report, another idea came to Frank and he laughed aloud. "What's the joke?" demanded Bob. "Have you done----" "No, sir," Frank interrupted, "I've not gone crazy, at least not any more than the rest of you. It just occurred to me that the reason why we couldn't find Higginbotham links up with the reason why his airplane is missing. Higginbotham flew away in it, while that plugugly who damaged our airplane and whom Bob couldn't locate worked the radio for him." "You mean he had the nerve to come back here while we were up at the house? And that his man calmly walked into the radio plant and operated it for him? Oh, say." Bob was contemptuous. "Why not?" said Frank coolly. "What was to stop him? The airplane makes no noise, and it would be the easiest matter in the world for Higginbotham thus to make his escape." CHAPTER XIX WARNED! Frank's surmise was communicated to Captain Folsom, and the latter at once sent a radio message to the Custom House at New York, giving a bare outline of the details of the raid and asking that a watch be kept for Higginbotham. Custom House communicated with the New York Police Department, and a guard was set at the bridges and ferries leading from Long Island to Manhattan. Several days elapsed, however, with Higginbotham still uncaught. Meanwhile the next day after that eventful night, the radio-controlled plane was found floating in the waters of Great South Bay, so near the shore as to make it practically impossible Higginbotham had been drowned but, on the contrary, to give rise to the belief that he had made his way ashore. A fisherman made the discovery. It was some twenty-five miles as the crow flies from the Brownell place to the point where the airplane came down. That, Jack estimated, when told of the discovery, probably was the limit of the radio plant's radius of control. Higginbotham, therefore, had not descended until compelled to do so. All this, however, did not come until later. Meanwhile, after saying farewell to the two officers, the boys returned afoot to their homes with the understanding on Jack's part that Captain Folsom, the main portion of whose wardrobe still was at his house, would return later. On arrival, Jack learned that Tom Barnum already had explained the reason for his absence to the housekeeper and, after telling her Captain Folsom should be shown to his room on arrival, turned in and went instantly to sleep. As for Bob and Frank, only the servants as yet were astir at the Temple home. And the boys, after stating only that they had been routed out by a fire at the airplane hangar, went instantly to bed. Once Bob was partially awakened by Della, who demanded indignantly if he intended to sleep his young life away and commanded that he awaken Frank in order that she and her guest might have company. Bob merely grunted unintelligibly, and Della retired in a high state of indignation, resolved to give the boys a "piece of her mind" when finally they should arise. That event, however, did not come to pass until mid-afternoon. Bob on his sister's departure the first time had gotten up and locked the doors of his room and that of Frank, which adjoined. Thus, although Della several times came to the door and knocked, she received no reply. The "piece of her mind," however, went undelivered when once the boys did arise, for in the absorbing story which they had to tell of the night's occurrences, her sense of injury evaporated speedily. The recital occupied considerable time. At its conclusion, Bob, who had been looking so frequently at Della's guest, Marjorie Faulkner, as to cause Frank to chuckle to himself, suggested they play tennis. But Della protested. "That's all we've had to do to-day while you boys slept," she said. "We're tired of tennis. Propose something else." "The airplane's out of commission, or I'd take you up for a flight," said Bob. "Wouldn't you like that, Miss Faulkner?" "Oh, wouldn't I, just," she exclaimed. "I've never been up in an airplane, and I'm dying to try it. What is it like? Does it make you sick?" Bob grinned. Before he could reply, Frank interrupted. "Say, Bob," he exclaimed, "we ought to telephone the factory over in Long Island City right away, and tell them to send a couple of mechanics over here with new wings and whatever else is needed. First, though, we ought to make a thorough inventory to see what we need." Bob agreed, and, accompanied by the girls, they repaired to the hangar. After returning to the house, Frank rang up the airplane factory, and gave the necessary orders. He was told the mechanics would arrive the next day with all that was required, but that putting the plane into condition would take three or four days at the least. "Just when I had it all in good shape for flying," mourned Bob, on his chum's return. "Oh, what I'd do to that little monkey, Higginbotham, if I had the chance." He grinned as he uttered the threat, yet it could be seen that he was badly cut up by the damaging of the plane. Frank said nothing, but threw an arm over his shoulder as they walked back to the house, and for the remainder of the journey neither had much to say, leaving it to the girls to carry the burden of conversation. Arrived at the house, they found Jack with Captain Folsom. The latter was introduced to the girls, whom he had not met on his arrival the night previous. "I've come to say good-bye," he explained to Bob and Frank. "I have to go back to the city, and Hampton is going to motor me to the railway. I can't thank you fellows enough for your part in this affair. If it hadn't been for your perspicacity, in the first place, we might not have gotten wind of what was going on. And the way you all fought and acted on your own initiative time and again when we were in trouble was fine, indeed." "You've got to come down again, Captain," said big Bob, on whom the other had made a favorable impression. "I'd be delighted to do so, sometime," Captain Folsom replied. "By the way, Captain," interposed Frank, "keep us posted, will you, on how this affair turns out? Let us know if Higginbotham is located." "I'll do that," the other promised. "Well, good-bye." And bowing to the girls, he crossed the lawn to Jack's side and the two swung down the drive to where Jack had left the car parked by the side of the main road at the gate. On Jack's return, he informed his chums that the liquor at the Brownell place had been removed to the Nark, the captives placed aboard, and that then Lieutenant Summers had steamed away, leaving a detail of men on guard at the house and the radio plant to round up any of the smugglers who, thinking the place deserted, might straggle back. "He gave me a bit of advice to be passed on to you fellows," Jack added, out of hearing of the girls. "That was, to go about armed for a time, and to be on guard." "Why?" asked Bob, in surprise. "Well," Jack replied, "he said some of those fellows who escaped into the woods undoubtedly would have it in for us for having spoiled their plans, and that it was barely possible they might have learned where we live and might try to waylay us. He pointed out the men were a desperate lot, and that some of them were Italians who are notoriously revengeful." "Huh," grunted Bob, contemptuously. Frank, however, showed anxiety. "That's all right, Bob," he commented. "But Captain Folsom wouldn't have given Jack that warning if there were no grounds for it. Look here, Jack," he added, "Uncle George won't be home to-night. Have you heard from your father?" "The housekeeper received a message while I slept that he wouldn't be out for several days," Jack replied. "Well," said Frank, "I believe it would be a good plan for you to sleep at our house. At any rate until your father returns home. You can bunk in with me. I've got a big bed. Then, if anything happens at night, we'll all be together." "All right, I'll do that," Jack agreed. "Not that I expect anything will occur. But, as you say, if there is trouble, it is best to be together. Well, now let's join the girls. We've still got some daylight left, and we might make up doubles for tennis." CHAPTER XX OUT FOR REVENGE After dinner, which the five young people ate without the presence of their elders, as even Mrs. Temple was absent, having been picked up in a friend's motor car during the afternoon and whisked away to a country home near Southampton, all adjourned to the gallery. A desultory conversation was maintained, but presently at a whisper from Frank, Della slipped indoors with him. Then from the long french windows of the music room came two voices mingling harmoniously in the strains of an old Southern melody to an accompaniment played by Della on the piano. The others listened until the conclusion which they greeted with spirited applause. Then by common consent all three arose and went in to join. Thereafter for an hour, the singing continued, with first Della and then Miss Faulkner at the piano. When the common repertoire of songs had been nigh exhausted, Bob who had wandered off to a window and stood there in the breeze, looking out at the play of moonlight on the lawn, returned with a suggestion that they all go for a short spin in the motor boat. The others eagerly assented. What a lark. A spin in a speed boat under the moonlight. Wraps and sweaters were procured, for although the night was warm it would be cool on the water, especially if any speed were attained. Then the party set out, Jack and Bob squiring Miss Faulkner, and Frank slightly in the rear with Della. On the walk to the boathouse Della reproached Frank for having taken so many risks the previous night. He regarded her slyly. "But Jack and Bob took risks, too," he said. Della flushed. Was the young rascal intimating her interest in him was greater than in the others. She was about to reply tartly, but Frank awkwardly took her hand and squeezed it, then hurriedly released it again. Demonstrations of affection were not frequent between these two, yet they had a pretty good understanding. They walked on in silence. "Just the same, Frank," said Della presently, "you must take better care of yourself." Frank nodded. He did not trust himself to speak. The interest shown by this girl with whom he had grown up, living in the same household with her from early boyhood, threw him into a softened mood. Then, too, the moonlit surroundings were not without their effect. He knew that if he spoke now, he would say something "soft." So he maintained his silence. The trio ahead meanwhile chattered gaily. And at length the boathouse was reached. Bob swung back the door and, all pushing together, the boat was trundled out on its little trucks, removed to the chute in which rollers were set, and rolled down to the water and launched. Then all climbed in, Bob examined the fuel supply and found the boat well stocked, Jack seized the tiller, they seated themselves in the little cockpit and, with Bob manipulating the engine, the boat moved away, gathered speed and, with a roar, began zipping out to sea. It was glorious sport, to which four of the five were accustomed, but which they enjoyed enormously no matter how often engaged in. To Miss Faulkner it was a revelation, and bundled in a sweater, her hair loosed and flying back in the wind, her eyes dancing with the zest of the adventure, she looked like an elf, as Della told Frank in a whispered aside. Frank nodded and grinned. "Bob thinks so, too," he whispered in reply. "He can't keep his eyes off her. If we didn't have the whole sea ahead of us, he'd run into something sure." Up and up and up went the speedometer. The boat seemed no longer to be rushing through the water. It spurned that heavier element, and took to the air. It leaped from crest to crest of the swells. The girls shrieked, the boys let out great chesty whoops of pure animal delight. Then Bob cut down the speed and Jack, controlling the tiller, swung her about towards home. They had been out only half an hour, but the shore was miles away. However, the return was made without incident or trouble of any kind, the motor working perfectly, and once more they stepped ashore at the boat landing. "Which do you like best, Mr. Temple," asked Marjorie Faulkner, as big Bob rejoined the party on the landing, after locking the doors; "boating, flying or motoring?" "Oh, I don't know," replied Bob, "there's something fascinating about every one of the three. To feel that powerful engine under your control, that's what grips me. It's power, you know; you have vast power under your control. They're all good," he concluded, with a quick look at the others who were moving away, "but to-night I like boating best." He looked at her so pointedly that her eyes dropped. Then she laughed. "And think of you saying that," she declared. "Why, Della always told me you were a perfect bear and never made a pretty speech to a girl in your life." "Neither did I," said Bob, boldly, "before to-night." Once more the girl laughed as she danced away after the others, but Bob following her was sure he had not displeased. Events of the previous night were far from the thoughts of any of the boys, as they moved across the open sandhills along the beach and approached the grove separating them from the Temple home. There was no thought of danger in their minds. But barely had they entered the narrow trail, walking single file, Jack in the lead, followed by Frank, Della and Miss Faulkner, with Bob bringing up the rear, than from the trees on either side darted a number of men who sprang upon them. The girls screamed in fright and alarm, their shrieks rending the silence of the night. Cursing, several of the attackers sprang for them, too, they were seized, and rough hands clapped over their mouths. But, attacked thus unexpectedly though they were, and without weapons, the boys fought desperately. How many their assailants numbered they could not tell. There was no time to take account. Frank was bowled over by the sudden rush, Jack borne back against a tree, Bob managed to keep his footing, his arms wrapped about the body of his own assailant. Every muscle and nerve taut, Frank sprang up as if actuated by a spring, tripped the man who had attacked him and leaped towards the fellow who had Della in his arms. In falling, his hand had come in contact with a stone the size of his fist and he had clutched it. Della's assailant had seized her from the rear and was bending her backward, a hand across her mouth. His back was towards Frank. The latter brought down the stone on the man's head with a tremendous crash, and the fellow's arms relaxed, setting Della free, then he fell to the ground, stunned. The man whom he had tripped made a leap for Frank, but his blood up, the boy dodged aside to avoid the blind rush and, as the man lurched past, he lashed out with his right fist. The blow caught the other under the ear, a fatal spot, and sent him toppling to the ground. Meantime, Jack, with his back to a big tree, was hard pressed by two men. In the hand of one gleamed a dagger. Good boxer though he was, Jack could not ward off an attack like that for long, and Frank realized it. He sprang forward to go to the rescue. Then a blow on the head felled him, and all became darkness. That blow came from a blackjack in the hands of Marjorie Faulkner's assailant. Seeing the danger to his comrades from Frank, he released the girl and attacked Frank. But his act brought down on him a perfect fury, tearing, scratching at his face. It was Della, crying with rage at the danger to Frank, insensible to everything else. She was a whirlwind and the man had all he could do to ward her off. In fact, he did not fully succeed, for her hands found his face and her tearing fingers ripped a long gash down over his right eye, from which the blood began to spout. Temporarily blinded, he dropped his blackjack, and stumbled back, cursing. Della did not follow up her advantage, but dropped to her knees beside Frank and pillowed his head in her lap. His eyes were closed. The blow that had felled him had been a shrewd one. Fortunately, however, instead of descending full on his head, it had glanced off one side. As she cradled him, smoothing back his hair and crying unrestrainedly, Frank opened his eyes and gazed up. For a moment his daze continued. Or did it? Was there not a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, quickly veiled, as he saw who had come to his rescue? Then he started to struggle to his feet. All this had taken very little time and, while it progressed, Bob had been gripped body to body with the biggest of the attacking party, a husky fellow of his own six foot height but with the added weight of a greater length of years. As this man leaped for him from the woods, arm upraised with a blackjack clutched in his hand, Bob had seized the descending wrist and thrown his other arm about the fellow's body. Thus they had wrestled. As Frank shakily, with Della's assistance, was getting to his feet, there came a panting cry from Bob, another scream from Miss Faulkner. Then through the air went flying the form of Bob's assailant. He had fallen victim to Bob's famous wrestling grip, which lifted the man from his feet and sent him flying over Bob's head. But into the propulsion this time Bob put all his great strength. The result was that, instead of falling immediately behind Bob, the fellow cannoned through the air a distance of several yards. As luck would have it, this human meteor descended upon one of Jack's assailants, and the pair went down to the ground together. At this, the other man turned and fled incontinently into the woods. The first round had been won. But there were still five assailants left. And all armed, while the boys were without weapons. Frank saw the danger of delay and called: "Bob, Jack, quick. We must get the girls home." Shaking his head to clear it, he seized Della by the hand and started running towards the house. A glance sufficed to show him the others saw the danger of delay, and were pelting after him with Marjorie Faulkner. Bob was bringing up the rear. But their troubles were not ended. Thus far the attackers had refrained from using revolvers in order to avoid bringing others to the scene. But, seeing their prey escape, several now whipped out weapons and began to fire. Bob, the last in line, groaned: "Got me." He fell. Jack spun around, took in the situation, then called: "Girls, you run on home and get help. Frank and I will stay with Bob." "I'm not hurt much," Bob declared. "Just put my leg out." He struggled to regain his feet. Several more shots whistled unpleasantly close. Their assailants were approaching, shooting as they came. "Run, girls," cried Jack. They darted away. Suddenly Tom Barnum came crashing through the woods, service revolver gripped in his hand. He had been aroused, as he slept nearby at the Hampton radio plant, by the cries of the girls on first being attacked. In the moonlight, it was not difficult to see at which party to fire, and Tom did not hesitate. He sent a half dozen bullets whistling about the attacking party in quick succession. The arrival of reinforcements completed the discomfiture of the latter. They fled back towards the beach. Tom was all for pursuing them, but Jack called to him. "Here, Tom, let 'em go. Bob's hurt. Help us get him to the house." CHAPTER XXI THE MOTOR BOAT STOLEN When the boys and Tom Barnum arrived at the Temples', they found the household in a great state of excitement. Some of the maids were hysterical. But Frank and Della, with a few sharp-spoken words, shamed the women and brought them to their senses. However, it was not to be wondered at that hysteria prevailed, as there were few men about to give protection in case of an attack on the house, the butler being an oldish and timorous man and the chauffeur absent. Frank assured the women, however, that they need not fear attack, and they retired to the servant's quarters. Meantime, Jack and Tom Barnum had assisted Bob to his rooms and examined his injury. It was found he had been struck by bullets not only once but twice. In neither case, however, was the injury serious. One had creased his right thigh, the other pierced the calf without touching the bone. The wounds were bandaged and dressed. Then a consultation was held, which both Della and Marjorie Faulkner insisted on attending. Both had been thoroughly frightened, but were plucky spirits, and the boys were loud in praise of their behavior. Frank could not thank Della enough for her interference to save him from the ruffian who had felled him. It was decided that, due to their isolation and the nature of the country, it would be highly unwise as well as unprofitable to attempt to go in search of the ruffians. Tom Barnum, however, was instructed to send a warning by radio to the government men at the Brownell radio plant that these fellows were in the neighborhood, and this commission he duly carried out on his return to his quarters. The boys were of the opinion that they had seen the last of the smugglers, and that, thwarted in their attempt to gain revenge, the latter would now make their way to the railroad and return to Brooklyn and Manhattan. For that the attack upon them was caused by a desire to obtain revenge, they had no doubt. It was what Captain Folsom had told them they might expect. What was their dismay, however, the next day when, on arriving at the boathouse they discovered the door broken open, and the new speed boat, pride of the trio, gone. Bob who had hobbled along by the aid of a cane groaned as he stared at the vacant space where the boat had been stowed on their return the night before. "We're out of luck," he said. "That's all." "Airplane damaged, motor boat stolen," said Frank. "What next?" But Jack refused to lament. His eyes blazed with wrath. "This is too much," he said. "We'll have to do something about this. That's all." After a consultation, it was decided to call Captain Folsom by radio at the Custom House and apprise him of the latest turn in the situation. By great good luck, Captain Folsom was in the Custom House at the time, on business connected with the disposal of the vast amount of liquor taken from the Brownell house. He commiserated with the boys on their hard luck, as well as on their lucky escape the previous night when unexpectedly attacked. He promised to notify the New York police who would keep a lookout for the motor boat along both the Brooklyn and Manhattan water fronts. Furthermore, he agreed to undertake to notify the police authorities of towns along the Long Island shore between the Temple estate and the metropolis, so that in case the smugglers made a landing and abandoned the boat, the boys would be notified where to recover it. In conclusion, he added that the big raid and the arrest of Paddy Ryan and others at the Brownell house had not as yet brought to light the principals in the liquor-smuggling ring. The lesser prisoners, questioned separately, maintained that Ryan and Higginbotham were the sole principals known to them. Higginbotham had not been found, and Ryan refused to talk. It was Captain Folsom's opinion, however, that one or more men of wealth and, possibly, of social or financial position, were behind the plot. "You boys have been of such assistance," he said, "that I'm telling you this, first, because I know you will be interested, but, secondly, because I want to put you on the lookout. You have shown yourselves such sensible, clever fellows that, if you keep your ears open, who knows but what you will stumble on something of importance. I believe the man or men behind the plot may live in the 'Millionaire Colony' down your way." What Captain Folsom had told the boys opened a new line for thought, and they discussed the matter at some length after finishing the radio conversation. The girls also were keenly interested. "It's so romantic," said Della. "Just like the olden days when smuggling was a recognized industry in England, for instance, and big merchants holding positions of respectability and honor connived with the runners of contraband." "You needn't go that far from home," said Frank, a student of Long Island colonial history. "There was a time when, on both coasts of Long Island, pirates and smugglers made their headquarters and came and went unmolested. In fact, the officials of that day were in league with the rascals, and there was at least one governor of the Province of New York who feathered his nest nicely by having an interest in both kinds of ventures." The boys knew the names of most of the owners of great estates along the Long Island shore up to Southampton and beyond, and some time was spent in laughing speculation as to whether this or that great man was involved in the liquor-smuggling plot. "Captain Folsom said," explained Jack, "that so much money necessarily was involved in the purchase and movement of all that liquor, in the radio equipment, the buying of the Brownell place, the hiring of ships, the employment of many men, and so on, that he was pretty certain the men captured were only underlings and not principals. And, certainly, the business must have taken a great deal of money." Several days passed without the boys hearing further from Captain Folsom, nor was any word received that their motor boat had been recovered. They came to be of the opinion that it had been either scuttled or abandoned in some lonely spot upon which nobody had stumbled, or else that the thieves had managed to elude police vigilance in the harbor of New York. That the thieves might have used it to make their way to sea to a rendezvous where the ships of the liquor-smugglers' fleet gathered did not occur to them, for the reason that despite the knowledge they had gained of the contraband traffic they were not aware as yet of its extent. Yet such was what actually had happened, as events were to prove. Meantime, both Mr. Temple and Mr. Hampton returned to their homes, to be amazed at the tale of developments during their absence. Over their cigars in Mr. Hampton's library, the two, alone, looked at each other and smiling shook their heads. "I had to scold Jack for running his head into trouble," said Mr. Hampton. "But--well, it's great to be young, George, and to have adventure come and hunt you out." Mr. Temple nodded. "I gave Bob and Frank a talking-to," he commented. "Told them they had no business getting into trouble the minute my back was turned. But Bob said: 'Well, Dad, we got into trouble when your back wasn't turned, too, out there in California last year. And we got you out of it, as a matter of fact.' And Frank said: 'We manage to come out on top, Uncle George.'" Mr. Hampton laughed. "Jack said something of the sort to me, too," he said. "He recalled that it was only by putting his head into trouble, as I called it, that he managed to rescue me when I was a prisoner in Mexico and to prevent international complications." "It's great to be young," said Mr. Temple, looking at the glowing tip of his cigar. Both men smoked in silence. Sunday came and went without further developments. But on the next day, Monday, the fifth day after the momentous night at the Brownell place, Captain Folsom called the boys by radio. Tom Barnum, on duty at the plant, summoned Jack. The latter presently appeared at the Temple home in a state of high excitement. "Say, fellows," he cried, spying his chums sprawled out on the gallery, reading; "what would you say to a sea voyage, with a chance for a little excitement?" Frank dropped his book and rolled out of the hammock in which he was swaying lazily. "What do you mean?" he demanded, scrambling to his feet. "Yes," said Bob, who was comfortably sprawled out in a long low wicker chair; "what's it all about?" He heaved a cushion at Jack, which the latter caught and returned so quickly that it caught Bob amidships and brought him to feet with a bound. He winced a little. His injured leg, although well on the road to recovery, was not yet in a condition to withstand sudden jolting. "Ouch," he roared. "Sic 'em, Frank." "Let up," declared Jack, warding off the combined attacks of his two chums, who began belaboring him with cushions; "let up, or I'll keep this to myself." The pair fell back, but with cushions still held aloft menacingly. "If it isn't good," said Frank, "look out." "Well, this is good, all right," said Jack, and hurriedly he explained. Captain Folsom was about to set out from New York with Lieutenant Summers aboard the Nark to investigate reports that a veritable fleet of liquor-smuggling vessels was some miles out to sea off Montauk Point, the very tip of Long Island. On their way, they would stop off at the Brownell place and send a boat ashore with a change of guards to relieve those on duty. They would be at the rendezvous in the course of the next three hours. "Captain Folsom said," concluded Jack, "that it had occurred to him the smugglers who stole our motor boat might have made out to this fleet, and invited us to go along to identify the boat in case it was found. He said there was just a bare chance of its being located, and he didn't want to arouse our hopes unduly. Also, he added that there would be no danger, and he thought we would enjoy the outing. This time, however, he said, he would not take us unless by the permission of our parents. If that could be obtained, we should make our way to the Brownell place and the boat would pick us up." "Hurray," cried Frank, executing a war dance. "Whoo-oo-oo-oo-oo!" "Call up your father, Bob," said Jack, "and ask him. I'll run home and get my Dad on the long distance." Both boys hastened to execute the commission, and when Jack returned in an incredibly short time it was with his father's permission to make the trip. Mr. Temple proved similarly amiable. Both men felt there could be no danger to the boys on such an expedition, as it was altogether unlikely that any liquor-runners would make a stand against an armed vessel of the United States Navy. Also, they were struck by Captain Folsom's reasoning as to the possible whereabouts of the motor boat and, knowing how the boys were put out at the loss, they felt it was only fair to the chums to permit them to run down this clue. "It's a good three miles to Starfish Cove," said Jack, anxiously. "Can you make it all right on that bum leg, Bob?" For answer Bob swung the wounded member back and forth several times. "I'll hold out all right," he said. "If I can't make it all the way, you fellows can carry me. I'm only a slight load." Frank groaned in mock dismay. The girls had gone visiting with Mrs. Temple. So, leaving a note to explain their absence, the boys set out. CHAPTER XXII WORD OF A STRANGE CRAFT Picked up by the boat at Starfish Cove, to which Bob had made his way without suffering any great inconvenience, the boys were rowed to the Nark where they were greeted on deck by Captain Folsom and Lieutenant Summers. At once the speedy craft got under way again, and was soon edging seaward yet with the low coast line on her bow, a creaming smother of water under her forefoot. Lieutenant Summers, after greeting the boys pleasantly, returned to his duties. Leaning over the rail with them, Captain Folsom began to speak of the liquor smugglers. No trace had been found of Higginbotham, he said. Inquiry had been made at the McKay Realty Company offices, but Mr. McKay who was said to be out of the city on business, had not yet returned, and nobody else could be found who could give any information of Higginbotham's haunts. It was learned he led a bachelor existence and had rooms at a downtown apartment hotel. The hotel had been visited, but Higginbotham had not put in an appearance nor called by telephone. A search warrant had been obtained and the rooms entered and inspected. But no papers of any sort that would give a clue to Higginbotham's connections in the liquor traffic were found. A canny man, he had avoided keeping any such incriminating documents about. Ryan and the other prisoners had been released on bail, Ryan himself putting up the bond money which amounted to a large sum. "If only I could lay my hands on the principals behind this plot," said Captain Folsom, thoughtfully. "The liquor smuggling is growing, and there is every evidence that some organizing genius with a great deal of money at his command is behind it. The newest manifestation of the smugglers' activities came the other day when an airplane which fell into a field near Croton-on-Hudson and was abandoned by the aviator, who was unhurt, was found to have carried 200 bottles of expensive Canadian liquor. And a map of the route from an island in the St. Lawrence near Montreal to Glen Falls, New York, thence to New York City was found in the cockpit. It was well-thumbed, and showed the trip must have been made many times of late." "But, if you do catch the principal, won't that merely result in curtailing activities of the smugglers for the time being, but not in putting a permanent stop to them?" asked Frank. "Aren't the profits so large that somebody else with money, some other organizing genius as you say, will take up the work?" "Perhaps, you are right," said Captain Folsom. "This prohibition law has brought to pass a mighty queer state of affairs in our country. It is one law that many people feel no compunctions at violating. Nevertheless, I feel that behind all these liquor violations in and around New York City to-day there is a man of prominence, someone who has united most of the small operators under his control, and who virtually has organized a Liquor Smugglers' Trust. "If we can land that man," he added, "we will strike a blow that will deter others for a long time to come from trying to follow his example. And I have the feeling that the events which you boys precipitated will lead us to that man--the Man Higher Up." So interested were the boys in this conversation that they failed to note the near approach of the Nark to an ancient schooner. They stood gazing at the creaming water under the bow, caps pulled low over their eyes to protect them from the sun's glare, and their radius of vision was strictly limited. Now, however, the speed of the Nark sensibly diminished until, when they looked up in surprise and gazed around to see what was occurring, the boys found the Nark practically at a standstill while a cable's length away rode an ancient schooner, lumbering along under all sail, to take advantage of the light airs. "By the ring-tailed caterpillar," exclaimed Frank, employing a quaint expression current the last term at Harrington Hall, "where did that caravel of Columbus come from? Why, she's so old you might expect the Ancient Mariner to peer over her rail. Yes, and there he is." He pointed at the figure of a whiskered skipper, wearing a dingy derby, who peered over the rail at this moment in response to a hail from the Nark. There was some foundation, in truth, for Frank's suggestion. The old schooner whose name they now discerned in faded gilt as "Molly M," seemed like a ghost of other days. Her outthrust bow, her up-cocked stern and the figurehead of a simpering woman that might have been mermaid originally but was now so worn as to make it almost impossible to tell the original intent, was, indeed, suggestive of galleons of ancient days. This figurehead jutted out beneath the bowsprit. "Heh. Heh." As the skipper of the ancient craft thus responded to the hail from the Nark, he put a hand to his ear as if hard of hearing. "Lay to. U. S. patrol boat," returned Lieutenant Summers, impatiently. "Evidently our friend believes we have come up with a liquor smuggler," said Captain Folsom, in an aside, to the boys. But the old skipper, whose craft was drawing away while the Nark rocked idly in the swell, with her engines barely turning over, merely repeated his gesture of putting a hand to his ear, and once more called: "Heh. Heh." Suddenly the deck beneath the feet of the boys quivered slightly, there was the report of a three-pounder, and a shot fell across the bow of the old schooner, kicking up a feather of spray. The Ancient Mariner, as Frank had dubbed him, came to life. He danced up and down on his deck, where two or three other figures of seamen now appeared. He shook his fist at the Nark. "I'm outside the three-mile limit," he screamed. "I'll have the law on ye." "He means," explained Captain Folsom to the boys, "that he is beyond the jurisdiction of United States waters and on the open sea." Nevertheless, the old skipper barked out an order, sailors sprang to obey, sails came down, and the schooner lay hove to. Then the Nark approached until only a boat's length away. On the deck of the schooner, only the skipper stood. The seamen had gone below, their tasks completed. "Look here, my man," said Lieutenant Summers, "you may be outside the three-mile limit, but you are drawing the line pretty fine. What are your papers?" The old skipper looked at him shrewdly, quizzically, from out his ambush of whiskers. A slow grin broke over his features. "Ye know well as I we'm outside the three-mile limit," he said. "So I don't mind tellin' ye. I got liquor aboard. But my papers is all clear, an' ye can't touch me. I'm from Nassau in the Bahamas for St. John. Two British possessions. An' I'm on my course." Lieutenant Summers's face grew red. Captain Folsom's eyes twinkled, and the boys saw one of the Nark's crew, an old salt, put up a big palm to hide a smile. "The old shellback has our skipper," whispered Captain Folsom to the boys. "He has him on the hip. We are outside the three-mile limit, undoubtedly. To think of the old Yankee's spunk in telling us he has liquor aboard. His papers will be as he says, too, but just the same that liquor will never reach St. John. It is destined for a landing on our own coast." Lieutenant Summers also was of the opinion apparently that he had been foiled. And little as he relished the fact that the old skipper was laughing at him up his sleeve, there was naught he could do about it. However, he decided to pay a visit to the "Molly M," for he called: "Stand by to receive a boat. I am coming aboard." Presently, the boys saw the little boat dancing over the waves, then Lieutenant Summers climbed to the deck of the schooner, and he and the old skipper disappeared together down the companionway. Awaiting his return, Captain Folsom enlightened the boys about the difficulties of preventing liquor from being smuggled into the country. "As you can see from this instance," he said, "the traffic is carried on openly, or under only a thin coating of camouflage. That boat fully intends, no doubt, to land its cargo along our coast somewhere. But her papers are all in order and as long as she stays outside the three-mile limit we can do nothing about it. Of course, we can hang to her heels and prevent her from landing. But while we are doing that, other smugglers slip ashore somewhere else. It's a weary business to try and enforce such a law at first. And, what makes it harder," he concluded, his brow clouding, "is that every now and then some member of the enforcement service sells out to the liquor ring, and then the rest of us who are doing our work honestly and as best we can are given a black eye, for everybody says: 'Ah, yes, they're all crooks. I thought so.' "But here," he said, "is Lieutenant Summers returning. Now we shall see what he found out." The old skipper and the naval officer appeared on the schooner's deck, Lieutenant Summers went overside, and the boat returned with him. Once more the schooner put on sail, and began to draw away. When he reached the deck, Lieutenant Summers sent a sailor to summon Captain Folsom and the boys below. They joined him in the cabin. "I have news for you boys," said Lieutenant Summers, at once. "Captain Woolley of the 'Molly M' proved to be a pretty smooth article," and he smiled wryly, "but from a member of his crew, one of my men learned that a speed boat answering the description of your stolen craft had been seen alongside a sub chaser manned by a crew in naval uniform off Atlantic Highlands on the Jersey coast." "Hurray," cried Frank, "one of your fleet must have recaptured it." Lieutenant Summers shook his head. "That's the puzzling thing," he said. "If one of our boats had found your craft adrift or captured it with the fugitive smugglers aboard, I would have been notified by radio. You see, the schooner sighted the sub chaser and motor boat yesterday. This sailor, a talkative chap apparently, told my man they thought the chaser was a ship of the 'Dry Navy' and crowded on all canvas to edge away from dangerous company. Then, he said, they could see these uniformed men aboard the chaser leaning on the rail and holding their sides from laughing at the schooner. What it all meant, he didn't know, but at any rate the chaser made no attempt to pursue." "And you haven't heard from any of your fleet that our boat was recovered?" asked Jack, in surprise. "From none," said Lieutenant Summers. "However, I shall order 'Sparks' at once to query all the ships." CHAPTER XXIII IN STARFISH COVE AGAIN "Sparks" as the radio operator aboard the sub chaser was known, sat down to his key at once and sent out a wireless call for all members of the "Dry Navy," requesting information as to whether any had recovered the stolen speed boat belonging to the boys. One by one, from their various stations along the coast, the boats responded, giving negative replies. Several hours elapsed before all had been heard from. Meantime the Nark crisscrossed and quartered the sea off Montauk Point, in search of the rumored "fleet" of liquor runners, but without success. Numerous sail were sighted as well as steamers, but the latter were all so large as to preclude in the opinion of the revenue men the possibility of their being liquor carriers, and the former never stood close enough to be examined. Nor did any assemblage of vessels sufficiently large to warrant the designation "fleet" appear. Late in the day, when the low descending sun warned of the approach of nightfall, and the boys' watches showed 7 o'clock, Lieutenant Summers again consulted with Captain Folsom, who presently rejoined the boys with word that they were going to turn back and cruise offshore and that the boys in an hour or two could be landed, not at Starfish Cove, but at their own boathouse, thus involving only a short trip afoot home for Bob. Hardly had the boat's course been altered, however, when "Sparks" appeared from the radio room in a state of high excitement, addressed Lieutenant Summers who was on the little bridge, and the two returned together. The wireless room originally had been the chart house. It was equipped for the employment, both sending and receiving, of wireless telegraphy and telephony. "I wonder what is up," said Captain Folsom to the boys, with whom he was talking in the bow. "Something has come by radio that has excited 'Sparks.' Excuse me, boys, a moment, while I go to inquire." Captain Folsom, however, had not had time to reach the radio room when Lieutenant Summers again appeared on the bridge, and beckoned both him and the boys to approach. "I'll explain in a moment," he said, "as soon as I can give the necessary orders." A number of orders were delivered, and the men on deck leaped to execute them with alacrity. What their purport, was not made known, of course, but the helmsman was given a course direct for Starfish Cove and, in response to signals to the engine room for full speed ahead, the craft seemed fairly to leap through the water. "Something has happened ashore," said Frank, to his companions. "I wonder what it is." Their curiosity was soon to be satisfied. Lieutenant Summers led the way below to his cabin, and, once all five were gathered inside, he lost no time in coming to the point. "The mystery of that sub chaser seen by the crew of the 'Molly M' with your speed boat in tow is in a fair way to be solved," he said. "Also, I have high hopes of catching the ringleader of the liquor smugglers whom Captain Folsom and I have been seeking." "What? What's that?" demanded Captain Folsom, excitedly. Lieutenant Summers nodded. "You couldn't imagine in a thousand years where the radio call came from," he declared, "nor what it was all about. Well, I'll not attempt to mystify you any further. The call was from one of the guards I left posted at the Brownell place, and he was calling, not from the Brownell radio station, but from yours, Hampton." "From our station?" Jack was puzzled. "What's the matter with his own?" asked Frank. "Our guards have been captured by raiders dressed in naval uniform who disembarked from a sub chaser," said Lieutenant Summers, exploding his bombshell. "Only one man escaped. And he made his way to your station, Hampton, found your man, Tom Barnum, there and began calling for me." The eyes of the three boys shone, as the implication reached them. The smugglers evidently had obtained possession of a sub chaser and wearing U. S. naval uniforms had carried out a bold coup d'etat, although for what purpose could not be seen at the time. It looked as if there were a fair prospect of action, and all were excited in consequence. Captain Folsom, however, began hunting at once for causes. "But why in the world should such a move have been carried out?" he demanded. "Of course, I take it the smugglers have obtained a sub chaser somewhere, together with uniforms. Yet why should they seek to recapture the Brownell place? They could not hope to hold it." Lieutenant Summers shook his head. "It's too much for me," he declared. "It's a mystery, indeed. But I am not going to puzzle over that phase of the matter now. What I am interested in is in getting on the ground." Frank, who had been lost in thought, spoke up unexpectedly. "Captain Folsom," he said, "isn't it pretty certain such a move would not be carried out except by a man high in the councils of the smugglers?" "I should imagine so." "And he would not run the risk of discovery and capture without some very good cause?" "True." "Then," said Frank, "is it possible his reason for this act is to drive the guards away or take them prisoner in order to obtain temporary possession of the house and remove incriminating papers--perhaps, from some secret repository--which the smugglers failed to take away or destroy when Lieutenant Summers captured the place last week?" The others were silent a few moments. Then Captain Folsom said: "Perhaps, you are correct. Certainly, your theory is plausible. And it would account for such a rash step being taken, by the smugglers." Further general discussion was abandoned, as Lieutenant Summers felt his services were needed on deck. The boat was nearing Starfish Cove. Night had fallen. Another half hour would bring them in sight of the strand. Captain Folsom went with the boat's commander to discuss campaign plans. The boys were left to themselves. "Who do you think this mysterious man behind the operations of the liquor runners can be?" Frank asked, as they leaned in a group apart on the rail, watching the phosphorescence in the water alongside. "I haven't the least idea," confessed Jack. "Nor I," said Bob. "Unless, after all, it is Higginbotham." "No," said Frank, "Captain Folsom declares it cannot be he, that he himself is not a wealthy man, and that he probably is only an agent." "The little scoundrel," exclaimed Bob. "He's a smooth one to take in Mr. McKay like that. Dad always speaks of Mr. McKay very highly. Think of Higginbotham playing the perfect secretary to him, yet behind his back carrying on such plots as this." The beat of the engines began to slow down. They were stealing along as close to the shore as Lieutenant Summers dared venture with his craft. Not long before, on this same coast, although not this very spot, Eagle Boat 17 had run aground in the shallows during a fog, between East Hampton and Amagansett. It behooved the Nark to proceed with caution. The boys were in the bow now, peering ahead. Starfish Cove was very near. Ahead lay the nearer of the two horns enclosing it. Gradually the little bay opened out around the point of land, and a dark blot showed in the water. The moon had not yet risen high, but it was a Summer night and not dark. Suddenly, from the bridge, the glare of the great searchlight carried by the Nark cut through the darkness like the stab of a sword. Lieutenant Summers directed it be played full upon the dark blot ahead, and instantly the latter stood out fully illumined. It was a sub chaser. Smoke was coming from her funnel. She had steam up. She was preparing to depart. There were a score of figures on her deck. But what delayed her departure was the fact that she waited for a small boat, dancing across the water toward her from the shore. The latter caught full in the glare of the searchlight contained a pair of men tugging frantically at the oars, and a third seated in the stern, grasping the tiller ropes and urging the rowers to exert themselves to the utmost. He wore a cap pulled far down to obscure his features, and did not look up as did his companions when the light smote them. There was excitement among those on deck of the strange sub chaser. Men ran here and there, as if undirected, not knowing what to do. "He's running away," cried Frank, suddenly. "Look. In the small boat." He pointed. True enough, the man at the tiller had swung her about for shore, and the rowers were bending their backs as they sent her along on the opposite course. Moreover, a few strokes more would interpose the strange sub chaser between her and the Nark, and whoever was aboard would escape. It was a time for quick action. Lieutenant Summers was equal to the occasion. Unknown to the boys, he had ordered the three pounder unlimbered, and now sent a shot ricochetting so close to the small boat that the oarsmen were spattered by the spray and the boat rocked violently. Nevertheless, exhorted by their commander, the rowers, who had ceased at first, bent anew to their oars. Another moment, and they were under the stern of the strange vessel and temporarily safe from danger of shot. Jack, who had been watching developments breathlessly, ran to the bridge, and called: "May I make a suggestion, sir?" "What is it?" asked Lieutenant Summers. "Whoever is in that boat is heading for the other horn of land enclosing the cove," said Jack, speaking rapidly. "He will land far out on a narrow peninsula. If we send a boat ashore, on a tangent, we can strike the base of the peninsula in time to cut off his escape by land." "Good," cried Lieutenant Summers. "I'll order the boat out at once. Do you go in it and point the way." CHAPTER XXIV THE MAN HIGHER UP The menace of the shot under her stern, while intended to bring-to the small boat, had the effect of overaweing the strange sub chaser also. As Jack at the tiller, with four men bending to the oars and making the boat sweep through the water at a tremendous rate, passed close astern, he was half fearful a demonstration would be made against them. Nothing of the sort occurred, however, and not even a curious pair of eyes stared at them from the rail. This was to be accounted for partly by the fact that, immediately after launching and sending away Jack's boat, Lieutenant Summers dropped another overside from the davits, and, accompanied by Captain Folsom, headed directly for the ladder of the strange sub chaser, which was down. And those aboard had eyes only for him. At the last minute, just as he was about to enter his boat, he saw Frank and Bob watching him longingly from the rail. He smiled. "Want to come along?" Did they? The two chums tumbled down the ladder and into the boat so quickly that the invitation was barely uttered when they already occupied seats. "Let us have a pair of oars, sir," said Bob, "for we can row, and otherwise, if you brought other oarsmen in, we would be in the way." "Very well," consented Lieutenant Summers. However, he detailed two sailors to take the other pair of oars. The boat bearing the boarding party drew up at the floating stage and quickly Lieutenant Summers bounded over the rail, followed by Captain Folsom, Bob and Frank, and the two sailors. The boys drew up in rank with the latter, while the two leaders advanced a few steps. Nearly a score in number, the crew of the strange sub chaser were grouped at the foot of the bridge. None coming forward, Lieutenant Summers said sharply: "Lieutenant Summers, U. S. N., come aboard. Who commands here?" There was no response. Instead, a struggle seemed to be going on within the group, as if one of its members were trying to escape and the others were restraining him. At a sign from Lieutenant Summers, the sailors loosed the automatics swinging in holsters about their waists, and prepared for trouble. "We'd stand a fine chance of getting shot without being able to talk back," whispered Frank to Bob. "Neither of us armed." "Huh," Bob replied, out of the side of his mouth. "I'd grab me somebody's gun." The flurry, however, was short-lived. Suddenly, a shrinking figure was expelled from the group of men, as if shot from a cannon's mouth. The searchlight from the Nark was playing full upon the scene. "There's your man," cried a voice, from the group. "Tryin' to hide, he was." The man looked up, fear and defiance in his features. He was Higginbotham. "Ah," cried Captain Folsom, sharply, taking a step forward, "so it is you." Higginbotham looked about desperately, as if seeking a way of escape. But he was cut off at the rail by the guard from the Nark and the boys, while the others had swung about him in a half-circle, barring the way. Seeing an attempt to flee would be futile, he pulled himself together, not without dignity, and faced Captain Folsom and Lieutenant Summers. It was to the former that he addressed himself. "You've caught me," he said. "The game is up." He folded his arms. "What does this mean?" demanded Lieutenant Summers, taking a hand in the proceedings. "Captain, who is this man?" "That fellow Higginbotham, about whom I told you," said Captain Folsom in an aside. "The man who escaped from the Brownell place." "Ah." Lieutenant Summers saw the light. He addressed Higginbotham sternly: "You and your men, masquerading in the uniforms of officers and sailors of the U. S. N.," he said. "You will pay heavily for this, my man. Such masquerade is severely punished by the government." Higginbotham started to reply, but Frank had an idea. Not waiting to hear what the other had to say, he impulsively stepped forward and plucked Captain Folsom's sleeve. "That man is trying to delay us, Captain," he whispered. "I am sure of it. He wants the men in the small boat to escape. I'll bet, sir," he said excitedly, "that whoever is in that boat is the Man Higher Up whom you are so anxious to capture." Captain Folsom was struck by the cogency of Frank's reasoning. Signing to him to fall back, he whispered to Lieutenant Summers. The latter listened, then nodded. He stood silent a moment, thinking. "I have it," he said. "We'll call another boat from the Nark to go to the assistance of young Hampton." Placing a whistle to his lips, he blew a shrill blast. A hail came from Jackson, second in command of the Nark, at once. Lieutenant Summers ordered his assistant to come aboard with four men. Waiting the arrival of the other boat, Frank and Bob grew fidgetty and spoke in whispers, while the two officers questioned Higginbotham in low voices. "All right," said Frank to Bob, "I'll ask him." Approaching the officers, he stood where Captain Folsom's eyes fell upon him, and the latter, seeing he wanted a word with him, stepped aside. "Captain," said Frank, eagerly, "Bob and I feel that we have got to go to help Jack. Can't you persuade Lieutenant Summers to let us accompany the party?" The other smiled slightly, then once more whispered to Lieutenant Summers. The latter looked at Frank, and nodded. Frank fell back to Bob's side, content. They had not long to wait, before the boat bearing Jackson and four men from the Nark nosed up to their own craft at the landing stage, and Jackson reported to his commander on deck. "Jackson," Lieutenant Summers said to his young petty officer, "I want you to take command here with your four men. Disarm these fellows. I do not believe they will show trouble, but it will be well to let them know right at the start that the Nark has them under her guns. I am going to young Hampton's assistance." Jackson saluted, and called his men aboard. Without more ado, Lieutenant Summers, who was in haste to be off, turned to descend to the boat when once more Frank halted him: "We are unarmed, Lieutenant," he said. "Ah. Just a moment. Jackson!" "Yes, sir." "I shall order these men to give up their weapons. Stand ready, and keep them covered. Now, my men," he added, addressing the crew; "I am going to place you under arrest. I want you to advance one at a time and submit to being searched and disarmed. I warn you to submit without resistance, for if you do not, the Nark yonder has orders to open fire, and you cannot escape. Now, one at a time." Sullenly, unwillingly, but overawed, the men advanced. While the sailors from the Nark kept their automatics in their hands, ready for action, Jackson searched each man in businesslike fashion. The weapons thus taken away--regulation automatics, as well as a miscellaneous assortment of brass knuckles and a few wicked daggers, all marking the men as city toughs--were placed in a heap. Before the work had been completed, Lieutenant Summers, anxious to depart, signed to the boys to arm themselves. They complied. "Now, let us go," said he. The boys and their two young sailor companions tumbled into the outside boat, while Captain Folsom and Lieutenant Summers delayed for another word with Jackson. Then, they, too, descended. The oars dipped, and the boat sped away. All this had taken only a very short space of time. However, the boat bearing the fugitives no longer could be seen, although that carrying Jack--or, at least, what they took to be his boat--was still offshore, though close to it. It looked like a little dark blot some distance ahead, nearing the landward base of the peninsula. On that horn of land, all felt assured, the fugitives had landed, and along it were making their way to shore. Jack's boat now reached the shore. Lieutenant Summers, gazing through the nightglass, spied Jack and his quartette leap to land. Then he searched the spit of land through the glass. An exclamation broke from him. "Young Hampton is just in time," he said. "I can see three figures running along the peninsula towards him. Pull your hardest, lads, and we shall soon be up with them." The two sailors and Bob and Frank bent to the oars with a will, and the boat fairly leaped through the water. Their backs were towards the land and they could not see the development of events, but Lieutenant Summers, realizing, perhaps, the anxiety of the chums for their comrade, gave them occasional bulletins. Jack and his party had taken cover, apparently, for they could no longer be seen. Lieutenant Summers was of the opinion, however, that their presence was known to the enemy. It could not well have been otherwise, as the latter must have seen Jack's manoeuvre to cut them off. Suddenly a half dozen shots rang out. "Pull your best lads. Almost there," cried Lieutenant Summers, who was in the bow. "Now. One more big pull and we'll be up on the sand." There was a soft jar. The boat's nose tilted upwards. Then, disregarding footgear, all leaped overside into the shallow water, and six pairs of hands ran the boat well up on the sand. "This way," cried Lieutenant Summers, dashing ahead. The others followed on the run. No further shots had been fired. But the sounds of panting men engaged body to body in the brush came to them. As he ran, Lieutenant Summers cast the rays of a powerful hand light ahead. Right at the edge of the trees the two parties were engaged. But the fugitives were outnumbered, five to three, and, as the reinforcements against them arrived, the struggle came abruptly to an end. The first upon whom Lieutenant Summer's light fell was Jack, astride a form. Then the light fell on the fallen man's features and a cry broke from Bob's lips. "Why, it's Mr. McKay." CHAPTER XXV MCKAY'S STORY After all, the Mystery Was Easily Explained; The Mystery as to the identity of the man behind the operations of the liquor-smugglers. The explanation of the whole situation was unfolded by Captain Folsom several nights later at the Temple home. He had come from New York City at the invitation of Mr. Temple, whose curiosity was aroused by the tales of the boys, and who wanted to hear a connected account of events. In this matter, Captain Folsom was willing to oblige, more especially by reason of the aid given the government forces by the boys. J. B. McKay was the Man Higher Up. Higginbotham was his agent. This man, one of the wealthiest realty operators in New York, was a born gambler. He could never resist the impulse to engage in a venture that would bring him big returns on his investment. In his realty operations, this quality had earned him the name of "Take a Chance" McKay. When the Eighteenth Amendment to the Federal Constitution was adopted--the prohibition amendment--he watched developments. He felt certain that liquor smuggling would spring up. In this he was not mistaken. New York became a vast center of the traffic. And as he beheld the great sums made by the men bringing liquor into the country in defiance of the law, the thought came to McKay of how these individual operators might be united by a strong and ruthless man, their methods improved, and a vast fortune made by the man in control. Thereupon he set about obtaining this control. It was McKay, said Captain Folsom, who organized the motor truck caravan which brought liquor across the Canadian border into Northern New York to a distributing center, a night's run to the South, whence it was sent across the land by express as china and glassware from a china and glassware manufactory. This factory was mere camouflage. A plant did exist, but it was nothing more than a storage warehouse at which the motor trucks unloaded their cargoes. Police protection was needed, of course, and police protection McKay obtained. The factory so-called was in the open country, on the outskirts of a tiny village. The local authorities were bribed. All along the route from Canada, money was liberally spent in order to prevent interference from police. Big cities en route were avoided. The Highway of Grease ("grease" meaning bribery) led around all such, for in them usually the police were incorruptible. It was McKay, too, who organized the airplane carriage of liquor from Canada to points outside New York City and to Stamford, Conn. One of his planes only recently, explained Captain Folsom, had fallen in a field near Croton-on-Hudson, with a valuable cargo of liquor aboard after a night's flight from Canada. But it was in organizing the importation of liquor from the Bahamas that McKay reached his heights. He had assembled a fleet of old schooners, many of which had seen better days and lacked business, commanded by skippers who were in desperate need of money, and he had taken advantage of their necessity by making what to them were tempting offers. Some boats he had purchased outright, others chartered for long periods. These boats would work their way up the Atlantic coast to specified points on the Jersey and Long Island coastlines. Then they would discharge their cargoes, and men waiting alongshore with trucks would carry the liquor to distributing points. More recently, Captain Folsom added, McKay had begun to utilize radio. To avoid the employment of more than a minimum force of men, was his primary object. In the first place, big crews made a steady drain in wages. Likewise, there was an added danger of mutiny when large crews were employed. The men were bound to realize that, inasmuch as he was violating the law, he could not appeal for legal retaliation in case they should seize a vessel and dispose of it and its contents. Therefore, he decided to depend on trusty skippers, whom he paid well, and skeleton crews whom the skippers and mates could control. Thus the radio-controlled boats, which were really not boats at all, came into existence. And for their control, the station on Long Island was established and two others, in isolated spots on the Jersey coast, were in process of construction when the end came. At the time of Higginbotham's discovery by the boys and their interference in McKay's schemes, McKay was absent in New Jersey, personally superintending the construction of the plants. Higginbotham, in fleeing from the Brownell place, had neglected some damaging correspondence which would have betrayed McKay's identity as the controlling power in the liquor smuggling ring. He had fled to his employer, and told him of the danger. At the time, McKay had standing offshore an Eagle boat, built for submarine chasing during the World War, but which two years earlier the United States government had sold during a period of reduction of expenses. This boat he had kept in the Bahamas, but recently had brought North. He intended to use it to protect liquor runners as escort, the assumption being that, thinking it one of themselves, other boats of the "Dry Navy" would leave the vessels alone. How he had obtained possession of the naval uniforms for his men Captain Folsom did not know. However, the doughty captain assumed McKay probably had bought discarded uniforms in some manner, or else had had them made on order. When Higginbotham reached him with the news, after working his way through Brooklyn and New York in disguise, having lain hidden several days in order to avoid the first heat of the search which he knew would be made for him, McKay had decided to go to the Brownell place in the sub chaser. He figured its appearance would disarm the suspicions of the guards left by Lieutenant Summers, and that his men in uniform would get close enough before their identities were discovered to carry the place without force. Their superior numbers would compel surrender on the part of a handful of guards. Such proved to be the case. One of the guards, however, escaped and, making his way to the Hampton radio station, had sent out the call which brought the Nark to the scene just as McKay was making his escape. CHAPTER XXVI CONCLUSION The boys received great praise for their part in breaking up the plot, and bringing the perpetrators to book. For them, the balance of the summer went quietly. The escaping thieves who had stolen their speed boat had made their way to McKay's retreat in New Jersey, and there later the boat was recovered. In it, all spent many pleasant hours. The budding romance between Marjorie Faulkner and big Bob developed considerably during the balance of her stay at the Temple home, which lasted for several more weeks. They were together much of the time, walking, swimming, boating, flying. For the damaged airplane was repaired and Bob took the young girl frequently aloft. All five young people took part jointly in many affairs, but Bob got Marjorie to himself as much as possible. The others chaffed them a good deal, but as the banter was all good-natured, it was not resented. Della and Frank, too, drew more closely together that summer. They had lived in the same house for years, and had grown up together. Now as they stood on the verge of young manhood and young womanhood, a subtle change in their relations of comradeship came to pass. They were still good pals, but there was something deeper in their feelings for each other. Jack sighed one night, as he and his chums sat alone on the beach, after a late plunge. The girls had gone visiting with Mrs. Temple. "Here's Frank," he said, "getting thicker every day with Della. Here's old Bob, who has lost his head over Marjorie. I'm left out in the cold." "Well, why don't you go back to capture Senorita Rafaela?" asked Bob, slyly. "When we flew away from her ranch that day, you said you were going to come back for her, you know." Bob's reference was to the daughter of Don Fernandez y Calomares, an aristocrat of pure Castilian blood living in a palace in the Sonora mountains in Old Mexico. The previous summer, the Don as leader of a faction of Mexican rebels had kidnapped Jack's father, mining engineer in charge of oil properties in New Mexico, and carried him prisoner to his retreat. Thereby, the Don had hoped to embroil the United States with President Obregon of Mexico, perhaps to bring about American intervention, all of which would be of benefit to the rebel cause. Mr. Temple, however, had decided the kidnapping of his friend and business associate should be kept secret, in order to prevent American intervention which he considered would be harmful to both countries. The boys had gone into Old Mexico and, through a series of exciting adventures as related in "The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border," had effected Mr. Hampton's rescue. Jack had fallen victim to the charms of the Don's daughter. Now, at Bob's words, Jack said nothing, but looked away over the moonlit water. Well, his thoughts often when he was alone were concerned with the fascinating Spanish girl. Even the passage of a year's time had not served to efface her image from his memory. Someday---- "Come on," said he, jumping up, and pushing his two companions over into the sand. "Beat you home." He darted away, and they tore after him. At the end of the summer, all three boys went away to Yale at New Haven, Conn. Jack was in his second year, a Sophomore. Bob and Frank entered as Freshmen. During their college year, all three kept alive their interest in radio, and followed every new development. Jack even went further, inventing a revolutionary device for the application of radio. Of that, there is no space to speak now. But in an account of their further adventures it will be properly introduced. The following vacation period, Mr. Hampton went to Peru in connection with the development of rich mining properties in a new region, and took Jack with him. Frank and Bob pleaded so hard for permission to accompany the Hamptons that Mr. Temple gave his consent. There, an amazing series of adventures befell them. But they will be duly recorded in "The Radio Boys Search for the Incas' Treasure." The End THE RADIO BOYS SERIES BY GERALD BRECKENRIDGE A new series of copyright titles for boys of all ages. Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH THE RADIO BOYS ON THE MEXICAN BORDER THE RADIO BOYS ON SECRET SERVICE DUTY THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE REVENUE GUARDS THE RADIO BOYS' SEARCH FOR THE INCA'S TREASURE THE RADIO BOYS RESCUE THE LOST ALASKA EXPEDITION THE RADIO BOYS IN DARKEST AFRICA THE RADIO BOYS SEEK THE LOST ATLANTIS For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration] THE BOY ALLIES (Registered in the United States Patent Office) WITH THE ARMY BY CLAIR W. HAYES For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH In this series we follow the fortunes of two American lads unable to leave Europe after war is declared. They meet the soldiers of the Allies, and decide to cast their lot with them. Their experiences and escapes are many, and furnish plenty of good, healthy action that every boy loves. THE BOY ALLIES AT LIEGE; or, Through Lines of Steel. THE BOY ALLIES ON THE FIRING LINE; or, Twelve Days Battle Along the Marne. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE COSSACKS; or, A Wild Dash Over the Carpathians. THE BOY ALLIES IN THE TRENCHES; or, Midst Shot and Shell Along the Aisne. THE BOY ALLIES IN GREAT PERIL; or, With the Italian Army in the Alps. THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALKAN CAMPAIGN; or, The Struggle to Save a Nation. THE BOY ALLIES ON THE SOMME; or, Courage and Bravery Rewarded. THE BOY ALLIES AT VERDUN; or, Saving France from the Enemy. THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE STARS AND STRIPES; or, Leading the American Troops to the Firing Line. THE BOY ALLIES WITH HAIG IN FLANDERS; or, The Fighting Canadians of Vimy Ridge. THE BOY ALLIES WITH PERSHING IN FRANCE; or, Over the Top at Chateau Thierry. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE GREAT ADVANCE; or, Driving the Enemy Through France and Belgium. THE BOY ALLIES WITH MARSHAL FOCH; or, The Closing Days of the Great World War. For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration] THE BOY ALLIES (Registered in the United States Patent Office) WITH THE NAVY BY ENSIGN ROBERT L. DRAKE For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH Frank Chadwick and Jack Templeton, young American lads, meet each other in an unusual way soon after the declaration of war. Circumstances place them on board the British cruiser, "The Sylph," and from there on, they share adventures with the sailors of the Allies. Ensign Robert L. Drake, the author, is an experienced naval officer, and he describes admirably the many exciting adventures of the two boys. THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL; or, Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet. THE BOY ALLIES UNDER TWO FLAGS; or, Sweeping the Enemy from the Sea. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON; or, The Naval Raiders of the Great War. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE TERROR OF THE SEA; or, The Last Shot of Submarine D-16. THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE SEA; or, The Vanishing Submarine. THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC; or, Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar. THE BOY ALLIES AT JUTLAND; or, The Greatest Naval Battle of History. THE BOY ALLIES WITH UNCLE SAM'S CRUISERS; or, Convoying the American Army Across the Atlantic. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE SUBMARINE D-32; or, The Fall of the Russian Empire. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE VICTORIOUS FLEETS; or, The Fall of the German Navy. For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration] THE BOY SCOUTS SERIES BY HERBERT CARTER For Boys 12 to 16 Years All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH New Stories of Camp Life THE BOY SCOUTS' FIRST CAMPFIRE; or, Scouting with the Silver Fox Patrol. THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE BLUE RIDGE; or, Marooned Among the Moonshiners. THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country. THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The New Test for the Silver Fox Patrol. THE BOY SCOUTS THROUGH THE BIG TIMBER; or, The Search for the Lost Tenderfoot. THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES; or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver Mine. THE BOY SCOUTS ON STURGEON ISLAND; or, Marooned Among the Game-Fish Poachers. THE BOY SCOUTS DOWN IN DIXIE; or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp. THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE BATTLE OF SARATOGA; A story of Burgoyne's Defeat in 1777. THE BOY SCOUTS ALONG THE SUSQUEHANNA; or, The Silver Fox Patrol Caught in a Flood. THE BOY SCOUTS ON WAR TRAILS IN BELGIUM; or, Caught Between Hostile Armies. THE BOY SCOUTS AFOOT IN FRANCE; or, With The Red Cross Corps at the Marne. For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration] THE GOLDEN BOYS SERIES BY L. P. WYMAN, PH.D. Dean of Pennsylvania Military College. A new series of instructive copyright stories for boys of High School Age. Handsome Cloth Binding. PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH. THE GOLDEN BOYS AND THEIR NEW ELECTRIC CELL THE GOLDEN BOYS AT THE FORTRESS THE GOLDEN BOYS IN THE MAINE WOODS THE GOLDEN BOYS WITH THE LUMBER JACKS THE GOLDEN BOYS RESCUED BY RADIO THE GOLDEN BOYS ALONG THE RIVER ALLAGASH THE GOLDEN BOYS AT THE HAUNTED CAMP For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration] THE BOY TROOPERS SERIES BY CLAIR W. HAYES Author of the Famous "Boy Allies" Series. The adventures of two boys with the Pennsylvania State Police. All Copyrighted Titles. Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs. PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH. THE BOY TROOPERS ON THE TRAIL THE BOY TROOPERS IN THE NORTHWEST THE BOY TROOPERS ON STRIKE DUTY THE BOY TROOPERS AMONG THE WILD MOUNTAINEERS For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York [Illustration] THE JACK LORIMER SERIES BY WINN STANDISH For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER; or, The Young Athlete of Millvale High. Jack Lorimer is a fine example of the all-around American high-school boys. His fondness for clean, honest sport of all kinds will strike a chord of sympathy among athletic youths. JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS; or, Sports on Land and Lake. There is a lively story woven in with the athletic achievements, which are all right, since the book has been O. K'd by Chadwick, the Nestor of American Sporting journalism. JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAYS; or, Millvale High in Camp. It would be well not to put this book into a boy's hands until the chores are finished, otherwise they might be neglected. JACK LORIMER'S SUBSTITUTE; or, The Acting Captain of the Team. On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling, and tobogganing. There is a good deal of fun in this book and plenty of action. JACK LORIMER, FRESHMAN; or, From Millvale High to Exmouth. Jack and some friends he makes crowd innumerable happenings into an exciting freshman year at one of the leading Eastern colleges. The book is typical of the American college boy's life, and there is a lively story, interwoven with feats on the gridiron, hockey, basketball and other clean honest sports for which Jack Lorimer stands. For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration] THE RANGER BOYS SERIES BY CLAUDE H. LA BELLE A new series of copyright titles telling of the adventures of three boys with the Forest Rangers in the state of Maine. Handsome Cloth Binding. PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH. THE RANGER BOYS TO THE RESCUE THE RANGER BOYS FIND THE HERMIT THE RANGER BOYS AND THE BORDER SMUGGLERS THE RANGER BOYS OUTWIT THE TIMBER THIEVES THE RANGER BOYS AND THEIR REWARD For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York [Illustration] THE GIRL SCOUTS SERIES BY EDITH LAVELL A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wide experience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia. Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs. PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLENS SCHOOL THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP THE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURN THE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIP THE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALS THE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCH THE GIRL SCOUTS' VACATION ADVENTURES THE GIRL SCOUTS' MOTOR TRIP For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET--NEW YORK [Illustration] THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SERIES By HILDEGARD G. FREY A Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go Camping. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, The Magic Garden. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along the Road That Leads the Way. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, The House of the Open Door. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven Cedars. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; or, Glorify Work. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure at Carver House. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEWAYDIN; or, Down Paddles. For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration] MARJORIE DEAN COLLEGE SERIES BY PAULINE LESTER. Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series. Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High School Series will be eager to read this new series, as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine in these stories. All Clothbound. Copyright Titles. PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH. MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SOPHOMORE MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE JUNIOR MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SENIOR For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York [Illustration] MARJORIE DEAN HIGH SCHOOL SERIES BY PAULINE LESTER Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great interest to all girls of high school age. All Cloth Bound--Copyright Titles PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK [Illustration] THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS SERIES BY CAROLYN JUDSON BURNETT For Girls 12 to 16 Years All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH Splendid stories of the Adventures of a Group of Charming Girls. THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' VACATION ADVENTURES; or, Shirley Willing to the Rescue. THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS; or, A Four Weeks' Tour with the Glee Club. THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS; or, Shirley Willing on a Mission of Peace. THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER; or, Exciting Adventures on a Summerer's Cruise Through the Panama Canal. [Illustration] THE MILDRED SERIES BY MARTHA FINLEY [Illustration] For Girls 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 60 CENTS EACH A Companion Series to the famous "Elsie" books by the same author. MILDRED KEITH MILDRED AT ROSELAND MILDRED AND ELSIE MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE MILDRED AT HOME MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK 
30688	----	[Transcriber's Note: An underscore character "_" is used around text to signify italics in the _original_ text, as illustrated. It also is used to signify a subscript, used frequently in technical descriptions. For example _E_{C}_ would have been originally typeset as a capital E followed by a smaller C subscript, and both would have been in an italic typeface.] [Illustration: Pl. I.--One of the Lines of Towers at Radio Central (Courtesy of Radio Corporation of America).] LETTERS OF A RADIO-ENGINEER TO HIS SON BY JOHN MILLS Engineering Department, Western Electric Company, Inc., Author of "Radio-Communication," "The Realities of Modern Science," and "Within the Atom" NEW YORK HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC. PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY THE QUINN & BODEN COMPANY RAHWAY, N. J. TO J. M., Jr. CONTENTS 1 Electricity and Matter 3 2 Why a Copper Wire Will Conduct Electricity 9 3 How a Battery Works 16 4 The Batteries in Your Radio Set 27 5 Getting Electrons from a Heated Wire 34 6 The Audion 40 7 How to Measure an Electron Stream 48 8 Electron-Moving-Forces 57 9 The Audion-Characteristic 66 10 Condensers and Coils 77 11 A "C-W" Transmitter 86 12 Inductance and Capacity 96 13 Tuning 112 14 Why and How to Use a Detector 124 15 Radio-Telephony 140 16 The Human Voice 152 17 Grid Batteries and Grid Condensers for Detectors 165 18 Amplifiers and the Regenerative Circuit 176 19 The Audion Amplifier and Its Connections 187 20 Telephone Receivers and Other Electromagnetic Devices 199 21 Your Receiving Set and How to Experiment 211 22 High-Powered Radio-Telephone Transmitters 230 23 Amplification at Intermediate Frequencies 242 24 By Wire and by Radio 251 Index 263 LIST OF PLATES I One of the Lines of Towers at Radio Central Frontispiece II Bird's-Eye View of Radio Central 10 III Dry Battery for Use in Audion Circuits, and also Storage Battery 27 IV Radiotron 42 V Variometer and Variable Condenser of the General Radio Company. Voltmeter and Ammeter of the Weston Instrument Company 91 VI Low-Power Transmitting Tube, U V 202 106 VII Photographs of Vibrating Strings 155 VIII To Illustrate the Mechanism for the Production of the Human Voice 170 IX Western Electric Loud Speaking Receiver. Crystal Detector Set of the General Electric Co. Audibility Meter of General Radio Co. 203 X Audio-Frequency Transformer and Banked-Wound Coil 218 XI Broadcasting Equipment, Developed by the American Telephone and Telegraph Company and the Western Electric Company 235 XII Broadcasting Station of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company on the Roof of the Walker-Lispenard Bldg. in New York City where the Long-distance Telephone Lines Terminate 250 LETTERS OF A RADIO-ENGINEER TO HIS SON LETTER 1 ELECTRICITY AND MATTER MY DEAR SON: You are interested in radio-telephony and want me to explain it to you. I'll do so in the shortest and easiest way which I can devise. The explanation will be the simplest which I can give and still make it possible for you to build and operate your own set and to understand the operation of the large commercial sets to which you will listen. I'll write you a series of letters which will contain only what is important in the radio of to-day and those ideas which seem necessary if you are to follow the rapid advances which radio is making. Some of the letters you will find to require a second reading and study. In the case of a few you might postpone a second reading until you have finished those which interest you most. I'll mark the letters to omit in this way. All the letters will be written just as I would talk to you, for I shall draw little sketches as I go along. One of them will tell you how to experiment for yourself. This will be the most interesting of all. You can find plenty of books to tell you how radio sets operate and what to do, but very few except some for advanced students tell you how to experiment for yourself. Not to waste time in your own experiments, however, you will need to be quite familiar with the ideas of the other letters. What is a radio set? Copper wires, tinfoil, glass plates, sheets of mica, metal, and wood. Where does it get its ability to work--that is, where does the "energy" come from which runs the set? From batteries or from dynamos. That much you know already, but what is the real reason that we can use copper wires, metal plates, audions, crystals, and batteries to send messages and to receive them? The reason is that all these things are made of little specks, too tiny ever to see, which we might call specks of electricity. There are only two kinds of specks and we had better give them their right names at once to save time. One kind of speck is called "electron" and the other kind "proton." How do they differ? They probably differ in size but we don't yet know so very much about their sizes. They differ in laziness a great deal. One is about 1845 times as lazy as the other. That is, it has eighteen hundred and forty-five times as much inertia as the other. It is harder to get it started but it is just as much harder to get it to stop after it is once started or to change its direction and go a different direction. The proton has the larger inertia. It is the electron which is the easier to start or stop. How else do they differ? They differ in their actions. Protons don't like to associate with other protons but take quite keenly to electrons. And electrons--they go with protons but they won't associate with each other. An electron always likes to be close to a proton. Two is company when one is an electron and the other a proton but three is a crowd always. It doesn't make any difference to a proton what electron it is keeping company with provided only it is an electron and not another proton. All electrons are alike as far as we can tell and so are all protons. That means that all the stuff, or matter, of our world is made up of two kinds of building blocks, and all the blocks of each kind are just alike. Of course you mustn't think of these blocks as like bricks, for we don't know their shapes. Then there is another reason why you must not think of them as bricks and that is because when you build a house out of bricks each brick must rest on another. Between an electron and any other electron or between two protons or between an electron and a proton there is usually a relatively enormous distance. There is enough space so that lots of other electrons or protons could be fitted in between if only they were willing to get that close together. Sometimes they do get very close together. I can tell you how if you will imagine four small boys playing tag. Suppose Tom and Dick don't like to play with each other and run away from each other if they can. Now suppose that Bill and Sam won't play with each other if they can help it but that either of them will play with Tom or Dick whenever there is a chance. Now suppose Tom and Bill see each other; they start running toward each other to get up some sort of a game. But Sam sees Tom at the same time, so he starts running to join him even though Bill is going to be there too. Meanwhile Dick sees Bill and Sam running along and since they are his natural playmates he follows them. In a minute they are all together, and playing a great game; although some of the boys don't like to play together. Whenever there is a group of protons and electrons playing together we have what we call an "atom." There are about ninety different games which electrons and protons can play, that is ninety different kinds of atoms. These games differ in the number of electrons and protons who play and in the way they arrange themselves. Larger games can be formed if a number of atoms join together. Then there is a "molecule." Of molecules there are as many kinds as there are different substances in the world. It takes a lot of molecules together to form something big enough to see, for even the largest molecule, that of starch, is much too small to be seen by itself with the best possible microscope. What sort of a molecule is formed will depend upon how many and what kinds of atoms group together to play the larger game. Whenever there is a big game it doesn't mean that the little atomic groups which enter into it are all changed around. They keep together like a troop of boy scouts in a grand picnic in which lots of troops are present. At any rate they keep together enough so that we can still call them a group, that is an atom, even though they do adapt their game somewhat so as to fit in with other groups--that is with other atoms. What will the kind of atom depend upon? It will depend upon how many electrons and protons are grouped together in it to play their little game. How any atom behaves so far as associating with other groups or atoms will depend upon what sort of a game its own electrons and protons are playing. Now the simplest kind of a game that can be played, and the one with the smallest number of electrons and protons, is that played by a single proton and a single electron. I don't know just how it is played but I should guess that they sort of chase each other around in circles. At any rate I do know that the atom called "hydrogen" is formed by just one proton and one electron. Suppose they were magnified until they were as large as the moon and the earth. Then they would be just about as far apart but the smaller one would be the proton. That hydrogen atom is responsible for lots of interesting things for it is a great one to join with other atoms. We don't often find it by itself although we can make it change its partners and go from one molecule to another very easily. That is what happens every time you stain anything with acid. A hydrogen atom leaves a molecule of the acid and then it isn't acid any more. What remains isn't a happy group either for it has lost some of its playfellows. The hydrogen goes and joins with the stuff which gets stained. But it doesn't join with the whole molecule; it picks out part of it to associate with and that leaves the other part to take the place of the hydrogen in the original molecule of acid from which it came. Many of the actions which we call chemistry are merely the result of such changes of atoms from one molecule to another. Not only does the hydrogen atom like to associate in a larger game with other kinds of atoms but it likes to do so with one of its own kind. When it does we have a molecule of hydrogen gas, the same gas as is used in balloons. We haven't seemed to get very far yet toward radio but you can see how we shall when I tell you that next time I shall write of more complicated games such as are played in the atoms of copper which form the wires of radio sets and of how these wires can do what we call "carrying an electric current." LETTER 2 WHY A COPPER WIRE WILL CONDUCT ELECTRICITY MY DEAR YOUNG ATOMIST: You have learned that the simplest group which can be formed by protons and electrons is one proton and one electron chasing each other around in a fast game. This group is called an atom of hydrogen. A molecule of hydrogen is two of these groups together. All the other possible kinds of groups are more complicated. The next simplest is that of the atom of helium. Helium is a gas of which small quantities are obtained from certain oil wells and there isn't very much of it to be obtained. It is an inert gas, as we call it, because it won't burn or combine with anything else. It doesn't care to enter into the larger games of molecular groups. It is satisfied to be as it is, so that it isn't much use in chemistry because you can't make anything else out of it. That's the reason why it is so highly recommended for filling balloons or airships, because it cannot burn or explode. It is not as light as hydrogen but it serves quite well for making balloons buoyant in air. This helium atom is made up of four electrons and four protons. Right at the center there is a small closely crowded group which contains all the protons and two of the electrons. The other two electrons play around quite a little way from this inner group. It will make our explanations easier if we learn to call this inner group "the nucleus" of the atom. It is the center of the atom and the other two electrons play around about it just as the earth and Mars and the other planets play or revolve about the sun as a center. That is why we shall call these two electrons "planetary electrons." There are about ninety different kinds of atoms and they all have names. Some of them are more familiar than hydrogen and helium. For example, there is the iron atom, the copper atom, the sulphur atom and so on. Some of these atoms you ought to know and so, before telling you more of how atoms are formed by protons and electrons, I am going to write down the names of some of the atoms which we have in the earth and rocks of our world, in the water of the oceans, and in the air above. Start first with air. It is a mixture of several kinds of gases. Each gas is a different kind of atom. There is just a slight trace of hydrogen and a very small amount of helium and of some other gases which I won't bother you with learning. Most of the air, however, is nitrogen, about 78 percent in fact and almost all the rest is oxygen. About 20.8 percent is oxygen so that all the gases other than these two make up only about 1.2 percent of the atmosphere in which we live. [Illustration: Pl. II.--Bird's-eye View of Radio Central (Courtesy of Radio Corporation of America).] The earth and rocks also contain a great deal of oxygen; about 47.3 percent of the atoms which form earth and rocks are oxygen atoms. About half of the rest of the atoms are of a kind called silicon. Sand is made up of atoms of silicon and oxygen and you know how much sand there is. About 27.7 percent of the earth and its rocks is silicon. The next most important kind of atom in the earth is aluminum and after that iron and then calcium. Here is the way they run in percentages: Aluminum 7.8 percent; iron 4.5 percent; calcium 3.5 percent; sodium 2.4 percent; potassium 2.4 percent; magnesium 2.2 percent. Besides these which are most important there is about 0.2 percent of hydrogen and the same amount of carbon. Then there is a little phosphorus, a little sulphur, a little fluorine, and small amounts of all of the rest of the different kinds of atoms. Sea water is mostly oxygen and hydrogen, about 85.8 percent of oxygen and 10.7 percent of hydrogen. That is what you would expect for water is made up of molecules which in turn are formed by two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen. The oxygen atom is about sixteen times as heavy as the hydrogen atom. However, for every oxygen atom there are two hydrogen atoms so that for every pound of hydrogen in water there are about eight pounds of oxygen. That is why there is about eight times as high a percentage of oxygen in sea water as there is of hydrogen. Most of sea water, therefore, is just water, that is, pure water. But it contains some other substances as well and the best known of these is salt. Salt is a substance the molecules of which contain atoms of sodium and of chlorine. That is why sea water is about 1.1 percent sodium and about 2.1 percent chlorine. There are some other kinds of atoms in sea water, as you would expect, for it gets all the substances which the waters of the earth dissolve and carry down to it but they are unimportant in amounts. Now we know something about the names of the important kinds of atoms and can take up again the question of how they are formed by protons and electrons. No matter what kind of atom we are dealing with we always have a nucleus or center and some electrons playing around that nucleus like tiny planets. The only differences between one kind of atom and any other kind are differences in the nucleus and differences in the number and arrangement of the planetary electrons which are playing about the nucleus. No matter what kind of atom we are considering there is always in it just as many electrons as protons. For example, the iron atom is formed by a nucleus and twenty-six electrons playing around it. The copper atom has twenty-nine electrons as tiny planets to its nucleus. What does that mean about its nucleus? That there are twenty-nine more protons in the nucleus than there are electrons. Silver has even more planetary electrons, for it has 47. Radium has 88 and the heaviest atom of all, that of uranium, has 92. We might use numbers for the different kinds of atoms instead of names if we wanted to do so. We could describe any kind of atom by telling how many planetary electrons there were in it. For example, hydrogen would be number 1, helium number 2, lithium of which you perhaps never heard, would be number 3, and so on. Oxygen is 8, sodium is 11, chlorine is 17, iron 26, and copper 29. For each kind of atom there is a number. Let's call that number its atomic number. Now let's see what the atomic number tells us. Take copper, for example, which is number 29. In each atom of copper there are 29 electrons playing around the nucleus. The nucleus itself is a little inner group of electrons and protons, but there are more protons than electrons in it; twenty-nine more in fact. In an atom there is always an extra proton in the nucleus for each planetary electron. That makes the total number of protons and electrons the same. About the nucleus of a copper atom there are playing 29 electrons just as if the nucleus was a teacher responsible for 29 children who were out in the play yard. There is one very funny thing about it all, however, and that is that we must think of the scholars as if they were all just alike so that the teacher couldn't tell one from the other. Electrons are all alike, you remember. All the teacher or nucleus cares for is that there shall be just the right number playing around her. You could bring a boy in from some other play ground and the teacher couldn't tell that he was a stranger but she would know that something was the matter for there would be one too many in her group. She is responsible for just 29 scholars, and the nucleus of the copper atom is responsible for just 29 electrons. It doesn't make any difference where these electrons come from provided there are always just 29 playing around the nucleus. If there are more or less than 29 something peculiar will happen. We shall see later what might happen, but first let's think of an enormous lot of atoms such as there would be in a copper wire. A small copper wire will have in it billions of copper atoms, each with its planetary electrons playing their invisible game about their own nucleus. There is quite a little distance in any atom between the nucleus and any of the electrons for which it is responsible. There is usually a greater distance still between one atomic group and any other. On the whole the electrons hold pretty close to their own circles about their own nuclei. There is always some tendency to run away and play in some other group. With 29 electrons it's no wonder if sometimes one goes wandering off and finally gets into the game about some other nucleus. Of course, an electron from some other atom may come wandering along and take the place just left vacant, so that nucleus is satisfied. We don't know all we might about how the electrons wander around from atom to atom inside a copper wire but we do know that there are always a lot of them moving about in the spaces between the atoms. Some of them are going one way and some another. It's these wandering electrons which are affected when a battery is connected to a copper wire. Every single electron which is away from its home group, and wandering around, is sent scampering along toward the end of the wire which is connected to the positive plate or terminal of the battery and away from the negative plate. That's what the battery does to them for being away from home; it drives them along the wire. There's a regular stream or procession of them from the negative end of the wire toward the positive. When we have a stream of electrons like this we say we have a current of electricity. We'll need to learn more later about a current of electricity but one of the first things we ought to know is how a battery is made and why it affects these wandering electrons in the copper wire. That's what I shall tell you in my next letter.[1] [Footnote 1: The reader who wishes the shortest path to the construction and operation of a radio set should omit the next two letters.] LETTER 3 HOW A BATTERY WORKS (This letter may be omitted on the first reading.) MY DEAR BOY: When I was a boy we used to make our own batteries for our experiments. That was before storage batteries became as widely used as they are to-day when everybody has one in the starting system of his automobile. That was also before the day of the small dry battery such as we use in pocket flash lights. The batteries which we made were like those which they used on telegraph systems, and were sometimes called "gravity" batteries. Of course, we tried several kinds and I believe I got quite a little acid around the house at one time or another. I'll tell you about only one kind but I shall use the words "electron," "proton," "nucleus," "atom," and "molecule," about some of which nothing was known when I was a boy. We used a straight-sided glass jar which would hold about a gallon. On the bottom we set a star shaped arrangement made of sheets of copper with a long wire soldered to it so as to reach up out of the jar. Then we poured in a solution of copper sulphate until the jar was about half full. This solution was made by dissolving in water crystals of "blue vitriol" which we bought at the drug store. Blue vitriol, or copper sulphate as the chemists would call it, is a substance which forms glassy blue crystals. Its molecules are formed of copper atoms, sulphur atoms, and oxygen atoms. In each molecule of it there is one atom of copper, one of sulphur and four of oxygen. When it dissolves in water the molecules of the blue vitriol go wandering out into the spaces between the water molecules. But that isn't all that happens or the most important thing for one who is interested in making a battery. Each molecule is formed by six atoms, that is by six little groups of electrons playing about six little nuclei. About each nucleus there is going on a game but some of the electrons are playing in the game about their own nucleus and at the same time taking some part in the game which is going on around one of the other nuclei. That's why the groups or atoms stay together as a molecule. When the molecules wander out into the spaces between the water molecules something happens to this complicated game. It will be easiest to see what sort of thing happens if we talk about a molecule of ordinary table salt, for that has only two atoms in it. One atom is sodium and one is chlorine. The sodium molecule has eleven electrons playing around its nucleus. Fairly close to the nucleus there are two electrons. Then farther away there are eight more and these are having a perfect game. Then still farther away from the nucleus there is a single lonely electron. The atom of chlorine has seventeen electrons which play about its nucleus. Close to the nucleus there are two. A little farther away there are eight just as there are in the sodium atom. Then still farther away there are seven. I am going to draw a picture (Fig. 1) to show what I mean, but you must remember that these electrons are not all in the same plane as if they lay on a sheet of paper, but are scattered all around just as they would be if they were specks on a ball. [Illustration: Fig. 1] You see that the sodium atom has one lonely electron which hasn't any play fellows and that the chlorine atom has seven in its outside circle. It appears that eight would make a much better game. Suppose that extra electron in the sodium atom goes over and plays with those in the chlorine atom so as to make eight in the outside group as I have shown Fig. 2. That will be all right as long as it doesn't get out of sight of its own nucleus because you remember that the sodium nucleus is responsible for eleven electrons. The lonely electron of the sodium atom needn't be lonely any more if it can persuade its nucleus to stay so close to the chlorine atom that it can play in the outer circle of the chlorine atom. [Illustration: Fig. 2] The outer circle of the chlorine atom will then have a better game, for it will have just the eight that makes a perfect game. This can happen if the chlorine atom will stay close enough to the sodium atom so that the outermost electron of the sodium atom can play in the chlorine circle. You see everything will be satisfactory if an electron can be shared by the two atoms. That can happen only if the two atoms stay together; that is, if they form a molecule. That's why there are molecules and that's what I meant when I spoke of the molecule as a big game played by the electrons of two or more atoms. This molecule which is formed by a sodium atom and a chlorine atom is called a molecule of sodium chloride by chemists and a molecule of salt by most every one who eats it. Something strange happens when it dissolves. It wanders around between the water molecules and for some reason or other--we don't know exactly why--it decides to split up again into sodium and chlorine but it can't quite do it. The electron which joined the game about the chlorine nucleus won't leave it. The result is that the nucleus of the sodium atom gets away but it leaves this one electron behind. What gets away isn't a sodium atom for it has one too few electrons; and what remains behind isn't a chlorine atom for it has one too many electrons. We call these new groups "ions" from a Greek word which means "to go" for they do go, wandering off into the spaces between the water molecules. Fig. 3 gives you an idea of what happens. You remember that in an atom there are always just as many protons as electrons. In this sodium ion which is formed when the nucleus of the sodium atom breaks away but leaves behind one planetary electron, there is then one more proton than there are electrons. Because it has an extra proton, which hasn't any electron to associate with, we call it a plus ion or a "positive ion." Similarly we call the chlorine ion, which has one less proton than it has electrons, a minus or "negative ion." [Illustration: Fig. 3] Now, despite the fact that these ions broke away from each other they aren't really satisfied. Any time that the sodium ion can find an electron to take the place of the one it lost it will welcome it. That is, the sodium ion will want to go toward places where there are extra electrons. In the same way the chlorine ion will go toward places where electrons are wanted as if it could satisfy its guilty conscience by giving up the electron which it stole from the sodium atom, or at least by giving away some other electron, for they are all alike anyway. Sometimes a positive sodium ion and a negative chlorine ion meet in their wanderings in the solution and both get satisfied by forming a molecule again. Even so they don't stay together long before they split apart and start wandering again. That's what goes on over and over again, millions of times, when you dissolve a little salt in a glass of water. Now we can see what happens when copper sulphate dissolves. The copper atom has twenty-nine electrons about its nucleus and all except two of these are nicely grouped for playing their games about the nucleus. Two of the electrons are rather out of the game, and are unsatisfied. They play with the electrons of the part of the molecule which is called "sulphate," that is, the part formed by the sulphur atom and the four oxygen atoms. These five atoms of the sulphate part stay together very well and so we treat them as a group. The sulphate group and the copper atom stay together as long as they are not in solution but when they are, they act very much like the sodium and chlorine which I just described. The molecule splits up into two ions, one positive and one negative. The positive ion is the copper part except that two of the electrons which really belong to a copper atom got left behind because the sulphate part wouldn't give them up. The rest of the molecule is the negative ion. The copper ion is a copper atom which has lost two electrons. The sulphate ion is a combination of one sulphur atom, four oxygen atoms and two electrons which it stole from the copper atom. Just as the sodium ion is unsatisfied because in it there is one more proton than there are electrons, so the copper ion is unsatisfied. As a matter of fact it is twice as badly unsatisfied. It has two more protons than it has electrons. We say it has twice the "electrical charge" of the sodium ion. Just like a sodium ion the copper ion will tend to go toward any place where there are extra electrons which it can get to satisfy its own needs. In much the same way the sulphate ion will go toward places where it can give up its two extra electrons. Sometimes, of course, as ions of these two kinds wander about between the water molecules, they meet and satisfy each other by forming a molecule of copper sulphate. But if they do they will split apart later on; that is, they will "dissociate" as we should say. Now let's go on with the kind of batteries I used to make as a boy. You can see that in the solution of copper sulphate at the bottom of the jar there was always present a lot of positive copper ions and of negative sulphate ions. On top of this solution of copper sulphate I poured very carefully a weak solution of sulphuric acid. As I told you, an acid always has hydrogen in its molecules. Sulphuric acid has molecules formed by two hydrogen atoms and one of the groups which we decided to call sulphate. A better name for this acid would be hydrogen sulphate for that would imply that its molecule is the same as one of copper sulphate, except that the place of the copper is taken by two atoms of hydrogen. It takes two atoms of hydrogen because the copper atom has two lonely electrons while a hydrogen atom only has one. It takes two electrons to fill up the game which the electrons of the sulphate group are playing. If it can get these from a single atom, all right; but if it has to get one from each of two atoms, it will do it that way. I remember when I mixed the sulphuric acid with water that I learned to pour the acid into the water and not the other way around. Spatterings of sulphuric acid are not good for hands or clothes. With this solution I filled the jar almost to the top and then hung over the edge a sort of a crow's foot shape of cast zinc. The zinc reached down into the sulphuric acid solution. There was a binding post on it to which a wire could be connected. This wire and the one which came from the plate of copper at the bottom were the two terminals of the battery. We called the wire from the copper "positive" and the one from the zinc "negative." Now we shall see why and how the battery worked. The molecules of sulphuric acid dissociate in solution just as do those of copper sulphate. When sulphuric acid molecules split, the sulphate part goes away with two electrons which don't belong to it and each of the hydrogen atoms goes away by itself but without its electron. We call each a "hydrogen ion" but you can see that each is a single proton. In the two solutions are pieces of zinc and copper. Zinc is like all the rest of the metals in one way. Atoms of metals always have lonely electrons for which there doesn't seem to be room in the game which is going on around their nuclei. Copper as we saw has two lonely electrons in each atom. Zinc also has two. Some metals have one and some two and some even more lonely electrons in each atom. What happens then is this. The sulphate ions wandering around in the weak solution of sulphuric acid come along beside the zinc plate and beckon to its atoms. The sulphate ions had a great deal rather play the game called "zinc sulphate" than the game called "hydrogen sulphate." So the zinc atoms leave their places to join with the sulphate ions. But wait a minute! The sulphate ions have two extra electrons which they kept from the hydrogen atoms. They don't need the two lonely electrons which each zinc atom could bring and so the zinc atom leaves behind it these unnecessary electrons. Every time a zinc atom leaves the plate it fails to take all its electrons with it. What leaves the zinc plate, therefore, to go into solution is really not a zinc atom but is a zinc ion; that is, it is the nucleus of a zinc atom and all except two of the planetary electrons. Every time a zinc ion leaves the plate there are left behind two electrons. The plate doesn't want them for all the rest of its atoms have just the same number of protons as of electrons. Where are they to go? We shall see in a minute. Sometimes the zinc ions which have got into solution meet with sulphate ions and form zinc sulphate molecules. But if they do these molecules split up sooner or later into ions again. In the upper part of the liquid in the jar, therefore, there are sulphate ions which are negative and two kinds of positive ions, namely, the hydrogen ions and the zinc ions. Before the zinc ions began to crowd in there were just enough hydrogen ions to go with the sulphate ions. As it is, the entrance of the zinc ions has increased the number of positive ions and now there are too many. Some of the positive ions, therefore, and particularly the hydrogen ions, because the sulphate prefers to associate with the zinc ions, can't find enough playfellows and so go down in the jar. Down in the bottom of the jar the hydrogen ions find more sulphate ions to play with, but that leaves the copper ions which used to play with these sulphate ions without any playmates. So the copper ions go still further down and join with the copper atoms of the copper plate. They haven't much right to do so, for you remember that they haven't their proper number of electrons. Each copper ion lacks two electrons of being a copper atom. Nevertheless they join the copper plate. The result is a plate of copper which has too few electrons. It needs two electrons for every copper ion which joins it. How about the zinc plate? You remember that it has two electrons more than it needs for every zinc ion which has left it. If only the extra electrons on the negative zinc plate could get around to the positive copper plate. They can if we connect a wire from one plate to the other. Then the electrons from the zinc stream into the spaces between the atoms of the wire and push ahead of them the electrons which are wandering around in these spaces. At the other end an equal number of electrons leave the wire to satisfy the positive copper plate. So we have a stream of electrons in the wire, that is, a current of electricity and our battery is working. That's the sort of a battery I used to play with. If you understand it you can get the general idea of all batteries. Let me express it in general terms. At the negative plate of a battery ions go into solution and electrons are left behind. At the other end of the battery positive ions are crowded out of solution and join the plate where they cause a scarcity of electrons; that is, make the plate positive. If a wire is connected between the two plates, electrons will stream through it from the negative plate to the positive; and this stream is a current of electricity. [Illustration: Pl. III.--Dry Battery for Use in Audion Circuits (Courtesy of National Carbon Co., Inc.). Storage Battery (Courtesy of the Electric Storage Battery Co.).] LETTER 4 THE BATTERIES IN YOUR RADIO SET (This letter may be omitted on the first reading.) MY DEAR YOUNG MAN: You will need several batteries when you come to set up your radio receiver but you won't use such clumsy affairs as the gravity cell which I described in my last letter. Some of your batteries will be dry batteries of the size used in pocket flash lights. These are not really dry, for between the plates they are filled with a moist paste which is then sealed in with wax to keep it from drying out or from spilling. Instead of zinc and copper these batteries use zinc and carbon. No glass jar is needed, for the zinc is formed into a jar shape. In this is placed the paste and in the center of the paste a rod or bar of carbon. The paste doesn't contain sulphuric acid, but instead has in it a stuff called sal ammoniac; that is, ammonium chloride. The battery, however, acts very much like the one I described in my last letter. Ions of zinc leave the zinc and wander into the moist paste. These ions are positive, just as in the case of the gravity battery. The result is that the electrons which used to associate with a zinc ion to form a zinc atom are left in the zinc plate. That makes the zinc negative for it has more electrons than protons. The zinc ions take the place of the positive ions which are already in the paste. The positive ions which originally belonged with the paste, therefore, move along to the carbon rod and there get some electrons. Taking electrons away from the carbon leaves it with too many protons; that is, leaves it positive. In the little flash light batteries, therefore, you will always find that the round carbon rod, which sticks out of the center, is positive and the zinc casing is negative. The trouble with the battery like the one I used to make is that the zinc plate wastes away. Every time a zinc ion leaves it that means that the greater part of an atom is gone. Then when the two electrons which were left behind get a chance to start along a copper wire toward the positive plate of the battery there goes the rest of the atom. After a while there is no more zinc plate. It is easy to see what has happened. All the zinc has gone into solution or been "eaten away" as most people say. Dry batteries, however, don't stop working because the zinc gets used up, but because the active stuff in the paste, the ammonium chloride, is changed into something else. There's another kind of battery which you will need to use with your radio set; that is the storage battery. Storage batteries can be used over and over again if they are charged between times and will last for a long time if properly cared for. Then too, they can give a large current, that is, a big swift-moving stream of electrons. You will need that when you wish to heat the filament of the audion in your receiving set. The English call our storage batteries by the name "accumulators." I don't like that name at all, but I don't like our name for them nearly as well as I do the name "reversible batteries." Nobody uses this last name because it's too late to change. Nevertheless a storage battery is reversible, for it will work either way at an instant's notice. A storage battery is something like a boy's wagon on a hill side. It will run down hill but it can be pushed up again for another descent. You can use it to send a stream of electrons through a wire from its negative plate to its positive plate. Then if you connect these plates to some other battery or to a generator, (that is, a dynamo) you can make a stream of electrons go in the other direction. When you have done so long enough the battery is charged again and ready to discharge. I am not going to tell you very much about the storage battery but you ought to know a little about it if you are to own and run one with your radio set. When it is all charged and ready to work, the negative plate is a lot of soft spongy lead held in place by a frame of harder lead. The positive plate is a lead frame with small squares which are filled with lead peroxide, as it is called. This is a substance with molecules formed of one lead atom and two oxygen atoms. Why the chemists call it lead peroxide instead of just lead oxide I'll tell you some other time, but not in these letters. Between the two plates is a wood separator to keep pieces of lead from falling down between and touching both plates. You know what would happen if a piece of metal touched both plates. There would be a short circuit, that is, a sort of a short cut across lots by which some of the electrons from the negative plate could get to the positive plate without going along the wires which we want them to travel. That's why there are separators. The two plates are in a jar of sulphuric acid solution. The sulphuric acid has molecules which split up in solution, as you remember, into hydrogen ions and the ions which we called "sulphate." In my gravity battery the sulphate ions used to coax the zinc ions away into the solution. In the storage battery on the other hand the sulphate ions can get to most of the lead atoms because the lead is so spongy. When they do, they form lead sulphate right where the lead atoms are. They don't really need whole lead atoms, because they have two more electrons than they deserve, so there are two extra electrons for every molecule of lead sulphate which is formed. That's why the spongy lead plate is negative. The lead sulphate won't dissolve, so it stays there on the plate as a whitish coating. Now see what that means. What are the hydrogen ions going to do? As long as there was sulphuric acid in the water there was plenty of sulphate ions for them to associate with as often as they met; and they would meet pretty often. But if the sulphate ions get tied up with the lead of the plate there will be too many hydrogen ions left in the solution. Now what are the hydrogen ions to do? They are going to get as far away from each other as they can, for they are nothing but protons; and protons don't like to associate. They only stayed around in the first place because there was always plenty of sulphate ions with whom they liked to play. When the hydrogen ions try to get away from each other they go to the other plate of the battery, and there they will get some electrons, if they have to steal in their turn. I won't try to tell you all that happens at the other plate. The hydrogen ions get the electrons which they need, but they get something more. They get some of the oxygen away from the plate and so form molecules of water. You remember that water molecules are made of two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen. Meanwhile, the lead atoms, which have lost their oxygen companions, combine with some of the sulphate ions which are in that neighborhood. During the mix-up electrons are carried away from the plate and that leaves it positive. The result of all this is a little lead sulphate on each plate, a negative plate where the spongy lead was, and a positive plate where the lead peroxide was. Notice very carefully that I said "a little lead sulphate on each plate." The sort of thing I have been describing doesn't go on very long. If it did the battery would run down inside itself and then when we came to start our automobile we would have to get out and crank. How long does it go on? Answer another question first. So far we haven't connected any wire between the two plates of the battery, and so none of the electrons on the negative plate have any way of getting around to the positive plate where electrons are badly needed. Every time a negative sulphate ion combines with the spongy lead of the negative plate there are two more electrons added to that plate. You know how well electrons like each other. Do they let the sulphate ions keep giving that plate more electrons? There is the other question; and the answer is that they do not. Every electron that is added to that plate makes it just so much harder for another sulphate ion to get near enough to do business at all. That's why after a few extra electrons have accumulated on the spongy lead plate the actions which I was describing come to a stop. Do they ever begin again? They do just as soon as there is any reduction in the number of electrons which are hopping around in the negative plate trying to keep out of each other's way. When we connect a wire between the plates we let some of these extra electrons of the negative plate pass along to the positive plate where they will be welcome. And the moment a couple of them start off on that errand along comes another sulphate ion in the solution and lands two more electrons on the plate. That's how the battery keeps on discharging. We mustn't let it get too much discharged for the lead sulphate is not soluble, as I just told you, and it will coat up that plate until there isn't much chance of getting the process to reverse. That's why we are so careful not to let the discharge process go on too long before we reverse it and charge. That's why, when the car battery has been used pretty hard to start the car, I like to run quite a while to let the generator charge the battery again. When the battery charges, the process reverses and we get spongy lead on the negative plate and lead peroxide on the positive plate. You've learned enough for one day. Write me your questions and I'll answer and then go on in my next letter to tell how the audion works. You know about conduction of electricity in wires; that is, about the electron stream, and about batteries which can cause the stream. Now you are ready for the most wonderful little device known to science: the audion. LETTER 5 GETTING ELECTRONS FROM A HEATED WIRE DEAR SON: I was pleased to get your letter and its questions. Yes, a proton is a speck of electricity of the kind we call positive and an electron is of the kind we call negative. You might remember this simple law; "Like kinds of electricity repel, and unlike attract." The word ion[2] is used to describe any atom, or part of a molecule which can travel by itself and has more or less than its proper number of electrons. By proper number of electrons I mean proper for the number of protons which it has. If an ion has more electrons than protons it is negative; if the inequality is the other way around it is positive. An atom or molecule has neither more nor less protons than electrons. It is neutral or "uncharged," as we say. No, not every substance which will dissolve will dissociate or split up into positive and negative ions. The salt which you eat will, but the sugar will not. If you want a name for those substances which will dissociate in solution, call them "electrolytes." To make a battery we must always use an electrolyte. Yes, it is hard to think of a smooth piece of metal or a wire as full of holes. Even in the densest solids like lead the atoms are quite far apart and there are large spaces between the nuclei and the planetary electrons of each atom. I hope this clears up the questions in your mind for I want to get along to the vacuum tube. By a vacuum we mean a space which has very few atoms or molecules in it, just as few as we can possibly get, with the best methods of pumping and exhausting. For the present let's suppose that we can get all the gas molecules, that is, all the air, out of a little glass bulb. The audion is a glass bulb like an electric light bulb which has in it a thread, or filament, of metal. The ends of this filament extend out through the glass so that we may connect a battery to them and pass a current of electricity through the wire. If we do so the wire gets hot. What do we mean when we say "the wire gets hot?" We mean that it feels hot. It heats the glass bulb and we can feel it. But what do we mean in words of electrons and atoms? To answer this we must start back a little way. In every bit of matter in our world the atoms and molecules are in very rapid motion. In gases they can move anywhere; and do. That's why odors travel so fast. In liquids most of the molecules or atoms have to do their moving without getting out of the dish or above the surface. Not all of them stay in, however, for some are always getting away from the liquid and going out into the air above. That is why a dish of water will dry up so quickly. The faster the molecules are going the better chance they have of jumping clear away from the water like fish jumping in the lake at sundown. Heating the liquid makes its molecules move faster and so more of them are able to jump clear of the rest of the liquid. That's why when we come in wet we hang our clothes where they will get warm. The water in them evaporates more quickly when it is heated because all we mean by "heating" is speeding up the molecules. In a solid body the molecules can't get very far away from where they start but they keep moving back and forth and around and around. The hotter the body is, the faster are its molecules moving. Generally they move a little farther when the body is hot than when it is cold. That means they must have a little more room and that is why a body is larger when hot than when cold. It expands with heating because its molecules are moving more rapidly and slightly farther. When a wire is heated its molecules and atoms are hurried up and they dash back and forth faster than before. Now you know that a wire, like the filament of a lamp, gets hot when the "electricity is turned on," that is, when there is a stream of electrons passing through it. Why does it get hot? Because when the electrons stream through it they bump and jostle their way along like rude boys on a crowded sidewalk. The atoms have to step a bit more lively to keep out of the way. These more rapid motions of the atoms we recognize by the wire growing hotter. That is why an electric current heats a wire through which it is flowing. Now what happens to the electrons, the rude boys who are dodging their way along the sidewalk? Some of them are going so fast and so carelessly that they will have to dodge out into the gutter and off the sidewalk entirely. The more boys that are rushing along and the faster they are going the more of them will be turned aside and plunge off the sidewalks. The greater and faster the stream of electrons, that is the more current which is flowing through the wire, the more electrons will be "emitted," that is, thrown out of the wire. If you could watch them you would see them shooting out of the wire, here, there, and all along its length, and going in every direction. The number which shoot out each second isn't very large until they have stirred things up so that the wire is just about red hot. What becomes of them? Sometimes they don't get very far away from the wire and so come back inside again. They scoot off the sidewalk and on again just as boys do in dodging their way along. Some of them start away as if they were going for good. If the wire is in a vacuum tube, as it is in the case of the audion, they can't get very far away. Of course there is lots of room; but they are going so fast that they need more room just as older boys who run fast need a larger play ground than do the little tots. By and by there gets to be so many of them outside that they have to dodge each other and some of them are always dodging back into the wire while new electrons are shooting out from it. When there are just as many electrons dodging back into the wire each second as are being emitted from it the vacuum in the tube has all the electrons it can hold. We might say it is "saturated" with electrons, which means, in slang, "full up." If any more electrons are to get out of the filament just as many others which are already outside have to go back inside. Or else they have got to be taken away somewhere else. What I have just told you about electrons getting away from a heated wire is very much like what happens when a liquid is heated. The molecules of the liquid get away from the surface. If we cover a dish of liquid which is being heated the liquid molecules can't get far away and very soon the space between the surface of the liquid and the cover gets saturated with them. Then every time another molecule escapes from the surface of the liquid there must be some molecule which goes back into the liquid. There is then just as much condensation back into liquid as there is evaporation from it. That's why in cooking they put covers over the vessels when they don't want the liquid all to "boil away." Sometimes we speak of the vacuum tube in the same words we would use in describing evaporation of a liquid. The molecules of the liquid which have escaped form what is called a "vapor" of the liquid. As you know there is usually considerable water vapor in the air. We say then that electrons are "boiled out" of the filament and that there is a "vapor of electrons" in the tube. That is enough for this letter. Next time I shall tell you how use is made of these electrons which have been boiled out and are free in the space around the filament. [Footnote 2: If the reader has omitted Letters 3 and 4 he should omit this paragraph and the next.] LETTER 6 THE AUDION DEAR SON: In my last letter I told how electrons are boiled out of a heated filament. The hotter the filament the more electrons are emitted each second. If the temperature is kept steady, or constant as we say, then there are emitted each second just the same number of electrons. When the filament is enclosed in a vessel or glass bulb these electrons which get free from it cannot go very far away. Some of them, therefore, have to come back to the filament and the number which returns each second is just equal to the number which is leaving. You realize that this is what is happening inside an ordinary electric light bulb when its filament is being heated. [Illustration: Fig 4] An ordinary electric light bulb, however, is not an audion although it is like one in the emission of electrons from its filament. That reminds me that last night as I was waiting for a train I picked up one of the Radio Supplements which so many newspapers are now running. There was a column of enquiries. One letter told how its writer had tried to use an ordinary electric light bulb to receive radio signals. He had plenty of electrons in it but no way to control them and make their motions useful. In an audion besides the filament there are two other things. One is a little sheet or plate of metal with a connecting wire leading out through the glass walls and the other is a little wire screen shaped like a gridiron and so called a "grid." It also has a connecting wire leading through the glass. Fig. 4 shows an audion. It will be most convenient, however, to represent an audion as in Fig. 5. There you see the filament, _F_, with its two terminals brought out from the tube, the plate, _P_, and between these the grid, _G_. [Illustration: Fig 5] These three parts of the tube are sometimes called "elements." Usually, however, they are called "electrodes" and that is why the audion is spoken of as the "three-electrode vacuum tube." An electrode is what we call any piece of metal or wire which is so placed as to let us get at electrons (or ions) to control their motions. Let us see how it does so. To start with, we shall forget the grid and think of a tube with only a filament and a plate in it--a two-electrode tube. We shall represent it as in Fig. 6 and show the battery which heats the filament by some lines as at _A_. In this way of representing a battery each cell is represented by a short heavy line and a longer lighter line. The heavy line stands for the negative plate and the longer line for the positive plate. We shall call the battery which heats the filament the "filament battery" or sometimes the "A-battery." As you see, it is formed by several battery cells connected in series. [Illustration: Fig 6] Sometime later I may tell you how to connect battery cells together and why. For the present all you need to remember is that two batteries are in series if the positive plate of one is connected to the negative plate of the other. If the batteries are alike they will pull an electron just twice as hard as either could alone. [Illustration: Pl. IV.--Radiotron (Courtesy of Radio Corporation of America).] To heat the filament of an audion, such as you will probably use in your set, will require three storage-battery cells, like the one I described in my fourth letter, all connected in series. We generally use storage batteries of about the same size as those in the automobile. If you will look at the automobile battery you will see that it is made of three cells connected in series. That battery would do very well for the filament circuit. By the way, do you know what a "circuit" is? The word comes from the same Latin word as our word "circus." The Romans were very fond of chariot racing at their circuses and built race tracks around which the chariots could go. A circuit, therefore, is a path or track around which something can race; and an electrical circuit is a path around which electrons can race. The filament, the A-battery and the connecting wires of Fig. 6 form a circuit. [Illustration: Fig 7] Let us imagine another battery formed by several cells in series which we shall connect to the tube as in Fig. 7. All the positive and negative terminals of these batteries are connected in pairs, the positive of one cell to the negative of the next, except for one positive and one negative. The remaining positive terminal is the positive terminal of the battery which we are making by this series connection. We then connect this positive terminal to the plate and the negative terminal to the filament as shown in the figure. This new battery we shall call the "plate battery" or the "B-battery." Now what's going to happen? The B-battery will want to take in electrons at its positive terminal and to send them out at its negative terminal. The positive is connected to the plate in the vacuum tube of the figure and so draws some of the electrons of the plate away from it. Where do these electrons come from? They used to belong to the atoms of the plate but they were out playing in the space between the atoms, so that they came right along when the battery called them. That leaves the plate with less than its proper number of electrons; that is, leaves it positive. So the plate immediately draws to itself some of the electrons which are dodging about in the vacuum around it. Do you remember what was happening in the tube? The filament was steadily going on emitting electrons although there were already in the tube so many electrons that just as many crowded back into the filament each second as the filament sent out. The filament was neither gaining nor losing electrons, although it was busy sending them out and welcoming them home again. When the B-battery gets to work all this is changed. The B-battery attracts electrons to the plate and so reduces the crowd in the tube. Then there are not as many electrons crowding back into the filament as there were before and so the filament loses more than it gets back. Suppose that, before the B-battery was connected to the plate, each tiny length of the filament was emitting 1000 electrons each second but was getting 1000 back each second. There was no net change. Now, suppose that the B-battery takes away 100 of these each second. Then only 900 get back to the filament and there is a net loss from the filament of 100. Each second this tiny length of filament sends into the vacuum 100 electrons which are taken out at the plate. From each little bit of filament there is a stream of electrons to the plate. Millions of electrons, therefore, stream across from filament to plate. That is, there is a current of electricity between filament and plate and this current continues to flow as long as the A-battery and the B-battery do their work. The negative terminal of the B-battery is connected to the filament. Every time this battery pulls an electron from the plate its negative terminal shoves one out to the filament. You know from my third and fourth letters that electrons are carried through a battery from its positive to its negative terminal. You see, then, that there is the same stream of electrons through the B-battery as there is through the vacuum between filament and plate. This same stream passes also through the wires which connect the battery to the tube. The path followed by the stream of electrons includes the wires, the vacuum and the battery in series. We call this path the "plate circuit." We can connect a telephone receiver, or a current-measuring instrument, or any thing we wish which will pass a stream of electrons, so as to let this same stream of electrons pass through it also. All we have to do is to connect the instrument in series with the other parts of the plate circuit. I'll show you how in a minute, but just now I want you to understand that we have a stream of electrons, for I want to tell you how it may be controlled. Suppose we use another battery and connect it between the grid and the filament so as to make the grid positive. That would mean connecting the positive terminal of the battery to the grid and the negative to the filament as shown by the C-battery of Fig. 8. This figure also shows a current-measuring instrument in the plate circuit. What effect is this C-battery, or grid-battery, going to have on the current in the _plate circuit_? Making the grid positive makes it want electrons. It will therefore act just as we saw that the plate did and pull electrons across the vacuum towards itself. [Illustration: Fig 8] What happens then is something like this: Electrons are freed at the filament; the plate and the grid both call them and they start off in a rush. Some of them are stopped by the wires of the grid but most of them go on by to the plate. The grid is mostly open space, you know, and the electrons move as fast as lightning. They are going too fast in the general direction of the grid to stop and look for its few and small wires. When the grid is positive the grid helps the plate to call electrons away from the filament. Making the grid positive, therefore, increases the stream of electrons _between filament and plate_; that is, increases the current in the plate circuit. We could get the same effect so far as concerns an increased plate current by using more batteries in series in the plate circuit so as to pull harder. But the grid is so close to the filament that a single battery cell in the grid circuit can call electrons so strongly that it would take several extra battery cells in the plate circuit to produce the same effect. [Illustration: Fig 9] If we reverse the grid battery, as in Fig. 9, so as to make the grid negative, then, instead of attracting electrons the grid repels them. Nowhere near as many electrons will stream across to the plate when the grid says, "No, go back." The grid is in a strategic position and what it says has a great effect. When there is no battery connected to the grid it has no possibility of influencing the electron stream which the plate is attracting to itself. We say, then, that the grid is uncharged or is at "zero potential," meaning that it is zero or nothing in possibility. But when the grid is charged, no matter how little, it makes a change in the plate current. When the grid says "Come on," even though very softly, it has as much effect on the electrons as if the plate shouted at them, and a lot of extra electrons rush for the plate. But when the grid whispers "Go back," many electrons which would otherwise have gone streaking off to the plate crowd back toward the filament. That's how the audion works. There is an electron stream and a wonderfully sensitive way of controlling the stream. LETTER 7 HOW TO MEASURE AN ELECTRON STREAM (This letter may be omitted on the first reading.) DEAR YOUTH: If we are to talk about the audion and how its grid controls the current in the plate circuit we must know something of how to measure currents. An electric current is a stream of electrons. We measure it by finding the rate at which electrons are traveling along through the circuit. What do we mean by the word "rate?" You know what it means when a speedometer says twenty miles an hour. If the car should keep going just as it was doing at the instant you looked at the speedometer it would go twenty miles in the next hour. Its rate is twenty miles an hour even though it runs into a smash the next minute and never goes anywhere again except to the junk heap. It's the same when we talk of electric currents. We say there is a current of such and such a number of electrons a second going by each point in the circuit. We don't mean that the current isn't going to change, for it may get larger or smaller, but we do mean that if the stream of electrons keeps going just as it is there will be such and such a number of electrons pass by in the next second. In most of the electrical circuits with which you will deal you will find that electrons must be passing along in the circuit at a most amazing rate if there is to be any appreciable effect. When you turn on the 40-watt light at your desk you start them going through the filament of the lamp at the rate of about two and a half billion billion each second. You have stood on the sidewalk in the city and watched the people stream past you. Just suppose you could stand beside that narrow little sidewalk which the filament offers to the electrons and count them as they go by. We don't try to count them although we do to-day know about how many go by in a second if the current is steady. If some one asks you how old you are you don't say "About five hundred million seconds"; you tell him in years. When some one asks how large a current is flowing in a wire we don't tell him six billion billion electrons each second; we tell him "one ampere." Just as we use years as the units in which to count up time so we use amperes as the units in which to count up streams of electrons. When a wire is carrying a current of one ampere the electrons are streaming through it at the rate of about 6,000,000,000,000,000,000 a second. Don't try to remember this number but do remember that an ampere is a unit in which we measure currents just as a year is a unit in which we measure time. An ampere is a unit in which we measure streams of electrons just as "miles per hour" is a unit in which we measure the speed of trains or automobiles. If you wanted to find the weight of something you would take a scale and weigh it, wouldn't you? You might take that spring balance which hangs out in the kitchen. But if the spring balance said the thing weighed five pounds how would you know if it was right? Of course you might take what ever it was down town and weigh it on some other scales but how would you know those scales gave correct weight? The only way to find out would be to try the scales with weights which you were sure were right and see if the readings on the scale correspond to the known weights. Then you could trust it to tell you the weight of something else. That's the way scales are tested. In fact that's the way that the makers know how to mark them in the first place. They put on known weights and marked the lines and figures which you see. What they did was called "calibrating" the scale. You could make a scale for yourself if you wished, but if it was to be reliable you would have to find the places for the markings by applying known weights, that is, by calibration. How would you know that the weights you used to calibrate your scale were really what you thought them to be? You would have to find some place where they had a weight that everybody would agree was correct and then compare your weight with that. You might, for example, send your pound weight to the Bureau of Standards in Washington and for a small payment have the Bureau compare it with the pound which it keeps as a standard. That is easy where one is interested in a pound. But it is a little different when one is interested in an ampere. You can't make an ampere out of a piece of platinum as you can a standard pound weight. An ampere is a stream of electrons at about the rate of six billion billion a second. No one could ever count anywhere near that many, and yet everybody who is concerned with electricity wants to be able to measure currents in amperes. How is it done? First there is made an instrument which will have something in it to move when electrons are flowing through the instrument. We want a meter for the flow of electrons. In the basement we have a meter for the flow of gas and another for the flow of water. Each of these has some part which will move when the water or the gas passes through. But they are both arranged with little gear wheels so as to keep track of all the water or gas which has flowed through; they won't tell the rate at which the gas or water is flowing. They are like the odometer on the car which gives the "trip mileage" or the "total mileage." We want a meter like the speedometer which will indicate at each instant just how fast the electrons are streaming through it. There are several kinds of meters but I shall not try to tell you now of more than one. The simplest to understand is called a "hot-wire meter." You already know that an electron stream heats a wire. Suppose a piece of fine wire is fastened at the two ends and that there are binding posts also fastened to these ends of the wire so that the wire may be made part of the circuit where we want to know the electron stream. Then the same stream of electrons will flow through the fine wire as through the other parts of the circuit. Because the wire is fine it acts like a very narrow sidewalk for the stream of electrons and they have to bump and jostle pretty hard to get through. That's why the wire gets heated. You know that a heated wire expands. This wire expands. It grows longer and because it is held firmly at the ends it must bow out at the center. The bigger the rate of flow of electrons the hotter it gets; and the hotter it gets the more it bows out. At the center we might fasten one end--the short end--of a little lever. A small motion of this short end of the lever will mean a large motion of the other end, just like a "teeter board" when one end is longer than the other; the child on the long end travels further than the child on the short end. The lever magnifies the motion of the center of the hot wire part of our meter so that we can see it easier. [Illustration: Fig 10] There are several ways to make such a meter. The one shown in Fig. 10 is as easy to understand as any. We shape the long end of the lever like a pointer. Then the hotter the wire the farther the pointer moves. If we could put this meter in an electric circuit where we knew one ampere was flowing we could put a numeral "1" opposite where the pointer stood. Then if we could increase the current until there were two amperes flowing through the meter we could mark that position of the pointer "2" and so on. That's the way we would calibrate the meter. After we had done so we would call it an "ammeter" because it measures amperes. Years ago people would have called it an "amperemeter" but no one who is up-to-date would call it so to-day. [Illustration: Fig 11] If we had a very carefully made ammeter we would send it to the Bureau of Standards to be calibrated. At the Bureau they have a number of meters which they know are correct in their readings. They would put one of their meters and ours into the same circuit so that both carry the same stream of electrons as in Fig. 11. Then whatever the reading was on their meter could be marked opposite the pointer on ours. Now I want to tell you how the physicists at the Bureau know what is an ampere. Several years ago there was a meeting or congress of physicists and electrical engineers from all over the world who discussed what they thought should be the unit in which to measure current. They decided just what they would call an ampere and then all the countries from which they came passed laws saying that an ampere should be what these scientists had recommended. To-day, therefore, an ampere is defined by law. To tell when an ampere of current is flowing requires the use of two silver plates and a solution of silver nitrate. Silver nitrate has molecules made up of one atom of silver combined with a group of atoms called "nitrate." You remember that the molecule of copper sulphate, discussed in our third letter, was formed by a copper atom and a group called sulphate. Nitrate is another group something like sulphate for it has oxygen atoms in it, but it has three instead of four, and instead of a sulphur atom there is an atom of nitrogen. When silver nitrate molecules go into solution they break up into ions just as copper sulphate does. One ion is a silver atom which has lost one electron. This electron was stolen from it by the nitrate part of the molecule when they dissociated. The nitrate ion, therefore, is formed by a nitrogen atom, three oxygen atoms, and one extra electron. If we put two plates of silver into such a solution nothing will happen until we connect a battery to the plates. Then the battery takes electrons away from one plate and gives electrons to the other. Some of the atoms in the plate which the battery is robbing of electrons are just like the silver ions which are moving around in the solution. That's why they can go out into the solution and play with the nitrate ions each of which has an extra electron which it stole from some silver atom. But the moment silver ions leave their plate we have more silver ions in the solution than we do sulphate ions. The only thing that can happen is for some of the silver ions to get out of the solution. They aren't going back to the positive silver plate from which they just came. They go on toward the negative plate where the battery is sending an electron for every one which it takes away from the positive plate. There start off towards the negative plate, not only the ions which just came from the positive plate, but all the ions that are in the solution. The first one to arrive gets an electron but it can't take it away from the silver plate. And why should it? As soon as it has got this electron it is again a normal silver atom. So it stays with the other atoms in the silver plate. That's what happens right along. For every atom which is lost from the positive plate there is one added to the negative plate. The silver of the positive plate gradually wastes away and the negative plate gradually gets an extra coating of silver. Every time the battery takes an electron away from the positive plate and gives it to the negative plate there is added to the negative plate an atom of silver. If the negative plate is weighed before the battery is connected and again after the battery is disconnected we can tell how much silver has been added to it. Suppose the current has been perfectly steady, that is, the same number of electrons streaming through the circuit each second. Then if we know how long the current has been running we can tell how much silver has been deposited each second. The law says that if silver is being deposited at the rate of 0.001118 gram each second then the current is one ampere. That's a small amount of silver, only about a thousandth part of a gram, and you know that it takes 28.35 grams to make an ounce. It's a very small amount of silver but it's an enormous number of atoms. How many? Six billion billion, of course, for there is deposited one atom for each electron in the stream. In my next letter I'll tell you how we measure the pull which batteries can give to electrons, and then we shall be ready to go on with more about the audion. LETTER 8 ELECTRON-MOVING-FORCES (This letter may be omitted on the first reading.) DEAR YOUNG MAN: I trust you have a fairly good idea that an ampere means a stream of electrons at a certain definite rate and hence that a current of say 3 amperes means a stream with three times as many electrons passing along each second. In the third and fourth letters you found out why a battery drives electrons around a conducting circuit. You also found that there are several different kinds of batteries. Batteries differ in their abilities to drive electrons and it is therefore convenient to have some way of comparing them. We do this by measuring the electron-moving-force or "electromotive force" which each battery can exert. To express electromotive force and give the results of our measurements we must have some unit. The unit we use is called the "volt." The volt is defined by law and is based on the suggestions of the same body of scientists who recommended the ampere of our last letter. They defined it by telling how to make a particular kind of battery and then saying that this battery had an electromotive force of a certain number of volts. One can buy such standard batteries, or standard cells as they are called, or he can make them for himself. To be sure that they are just right he can then send them to the Bureau of Standards and have them compared with the standard cells which the Bureau has. I don't propose to tell you much about standard cells for you won't have to use them until you come to study physics in real earnest. They are not good for ordinary purposes because the moment they go to work driving electrons the conditions inside them change so their electromotive force is changed. They are delicate little affairs and are useful only as standards with which to compare other batteries. And even as standard batteries they must be used in such a way that they are not required to drive any electrons. [Illustration: Fig 12] Let's see how it can be done. Suppose two boys sit opposite each other on the floor and brace their feet together. Then with their hands they take hold of a stick and pull in opposite directions. If both have the same stick-motive-force the stick will not move. Now suppose we connect the negative feet--I mean negative terminals--of two batteries together as in Fig. 12. Then we connect their positive terminals together by a wire. In the wire there will be lots of free electrons ready to go to the positive plate of the battery which pulls the harder. If the batteries are equal in electromotive force these electrons will stay right where they are. There will be no stream of electrons and yet we'll be using one of the batteries to compare with the other. That is all right, you think, but what are we to do when the batteries are not just equal in e. m. f.? (e. m. f. is code for electromotive force). I'll tell you, because the telling includes some other ideas which will be valuable in your later reading. [Illustration: Fig 13] Suppose we take batteries which aren't going to be injured by being made to work--storage batteries will do nicely--and connect them in series as in Fig. 13. When batteries are in series they act like a single stronger battery, one whose e. m. f. is the sum of the e. m. f.'s of the separate batteries. Connect these batteries to a long fine wire as in Fig. 14. There is a stream of electrons along this wire. Next connect the negative terminal of the standard cell to the negative terminal of the storage batteries, that is, brace their feet against each other. Then connect a wire to the positive terminal of the standard cell. This wire acts just like a long arm sticking out from the positive plate of this cell. [Illustration: Fig 14] Touch the end of the wire, which is _p_ of Fig. 14, to some point as _a_ on the fine wire. Now what do we have? Right at _a_, of course, there are some free electrons and they hear the calls of both batteries. If the standard battery, _S_ of the figure, calls the stronger they go to it. In that case move the end _p_ nearer the positive plate of the battery _B_, so that it will have a chance to exert a stronger pull. Suppose we try at _c_ and find the battery _B_ is there the stronger. Then we can move back to some point, say _b_, where the pulls are equal. To make a test like this we put a sensitive current-measuring instrument in the wire which leads from the positive terminal of the standard cell. We also use a long fine wire so that there can never be much of an electron stream anyway. When the pulls are equal there will be no current through this instrument. As soon as we find out where the proper setting is we can replace _S_ by some other battery, say _X_, which we wish to compare with _S_. We find the setting for that battery in the same way as we just did for _S_. Suppose it is at _d_ in Fig. 14 while the setting for _S_ was at _b_. We can see at once that _X_ is stronger than _S_. The question, however, is how much stronger. Perhaps it would be better to try to answer this question by talking about e. m. f.'s. It isn't fair to speak only of the positive plate which calls, we must speak also of the negative plate which is shooing electrons away from itself. The idea of e. m. f. takes care of both these actions. The steady stream of electrons in the fine wire is due to the e. m. f. of the battery _B_, that is to the pull of the positive terminal and the shove of the negative. If the wire is uniform, that is the same throughout its length, then each inch of it requires just as much e. m. f. as any other inch. Two inches require twice the e. m. f. which one inch requires. We know how much e. m. f. it takes to keep the electron stream going in the part of the wire from _n_ to _b_. It takes just the e. m. f. of the standard cell, _S_, because when that had its feet braced at _n_ it pulled just as hard at _b_ as did the big battery _B_. Suppose the distance _n_ to _d_ (usually written _nd_) is twice as great as that from _n_ to _b_ (_nb_). That means that battery _X_ has twice the e. m. f. of battery _S_. You remember that _X_ could exert the same force through the length of wire _nd_, as could the large battery. That is twice what cell _S_ can do. Therefore if we know how many volts to call the e. m. f. of the standard cell we can say that _X_ has an e. m. f. of twice as many volts. If we measured dry batteries this way we should find that they each had an e. m. f. of about 1.46 volts. A storage battery would be found to have about 2.4 volts when fully charged and perhaps as low as 2.1 volts when we had run it for a while. That is the way in which to compare batteries and to measure their e. m. f.'s, but you see it takes a lot of time. It is easier to use a "voltmeter" which is an instrument for measuring e. m. f.'s. Here is how one could be made. First there is made a current-measuring instrument which is quite sensitive, so that its pointer will show a deflection when only a very small stream of electrons is passing through the instrument. We could make one in the same way as we made the ammeter of the last letter but there are other better ways of which I'll tell you later. Then we connect a good deal of fine wire in series with the instrument for a reason which I'll tell you in a minute. The next and last step is to calibrate. We know how many volts of e. m. f. are required to keep going the electron stream between _n_ and _b_--we know that from the e. m. f. of our standard cell. Suppose then that we connect this new instrument, which we have just made, to the wire at _n_ and _b_ as in Fig. 15. Some of the electrons at _n_ which are so anxious to get away from the negative plate of battery _B_ can now travel as far as _b_ through the wire of the new instrument. They do so and the pointer swings around to some new position. Opposite that we mark the number of volts which the standard battery told us there was between _n_ and _b_. [Illustration: Fig 15] If we move the end of the wire from _b_ to _d_ the pointer will take a new position. Opposite this we mark twice the number of volts of the standard cell. We can run it to a point _e_ where the distance _ne_ is one-half _nb_, and mark our scale with half the number of volts of the standard cell, and so on for other positions along the wire. That's the way we calibrate a sensitive current-measuring instrument (with its added wire, of course) so that it will read volts. It is now a voltmeter. If we connect a voltmeter to the battery _X_ as in Fig. 16 the pointer will tell us the number of volts in the e. m. f. of _X_, for the pointer will take the same position as it did when the voltmeter was connected between _n_ and _d_. There is only one thing to watch out for in all this. We must be careful that the voltmeter is so made that it won't offer too easy a path for electrons to follow. We only want to find how hard a battery can pull an electron, for that is what we mean by e. m. f. Of course, we must let a small stream of electrons flow through the voltmeter so as to make the pointer move. That is why voltmeters of this kind are made out of a long piece of fine wire or else have a coil of fine wire in series with the current-measuring part. The fine wire makes a long and narrow path for the electrons and so there can be only a small stream. Usually we describe this condition by saying that a voltmeter has a high resistance. [Illustration: Fig 16] Fine wires offer more resistance to electron streams than do heavy wires of the same length. If a wire is the same diameter all along, the longer the length of it which we use the greater is the resistance which is offered to an electron stream. You will need to know how to describe the resistance of a wire or of any part of an electric circuit. To do so you tell how many "ohms" of resistance it has. The ohm is the unit in which we measure the resistance of a circuit to an electron stream. I can show you what an ohm is if I tell you a simple way to measure a resistance. Suppose you have a wire or coil of wire and want to know its resistance. Connect it in series with a battery and an ammeter as shown in Fig. 17. The same electron stream passes through all parts of this circuit and the ammeter tells us what this stream is in amperes. Now connect a voltmeter to the two ends of the coil as shown in the figure. The voltmeter tells in volts how much e. m. f. is being applied to force the current through the coil. Divide the number of volts by the number of amperes and the quotient (answer) is the number of ohms of resistance in the coil. [Illustration: Fig 17] Suppose the ammeter shows a current of one ampere and the voltmeter an e. m. f. of one volt. Then dividing 1 by 1 gives 1. That means that the coil has a resistance of one ohm. It also means one ohm is such a resistance that one volt will send through it a current of one ampere. You can get lots of meaning out of this. For example, it means also that one volt will send a current of one ampere through a resistance of one ohm. How many ohms would the coil have if it took 5 volts to send 2 amperes through it. Solution: Divide 5 by 2 and you get 2.5. Therefore the coil would have a resistance of 2.5 ohms. Try another. If a coil of resistance three ohms is carrying two amperes what is the voltage across the terminals of the coil? For 1 ohm it would take 1 volt to give a current of 1 ampere, wouldn't it? For 3 ohms it takes three times as much to give one ampere. To give twice this current would take twice 3 volts. That is, 2 amperes in 3 ohms requires 2x3 volts. Here's one for you to try by yourself. If an e. m. f. of 8 volts is sending current through a resistance of 2 ohms, how much current is flowing? Notice that I told the number of ohms and the number of volts, what are you going to tell? Don't tell just the number; tell how many and what. LETTER 9 THE AUDION-CHARACTERISTIC MY DEAR YOUNG STUDENT: Although there is much in Letters 7 and 8 which it is well to learn and to think about, there are only three of the ideas which you must have firmly grasped to get the most out of this letter which I am now going to write you about the audion. First: Electric currents are streams of electrons. We measure currents in amperes. To measure a current we may connect into the circuit an ammeter. Second: Electrons move in a circuit when there is an electron-moving-force, that is an electromotive force or e. m. f. We measure e. m. f.'s in volts. To measure an e. m. f. we connect a voltmeter to the two points between which the e. m. f. is active. Third: What current any particular e. m. f. will cause depends upon the circuit in which it is active. Circuits differ in the resistance which they offer to e. m. f.'s. For any particular e. m. f. (that is for any given e. m. f.) the resulting current will be smaller the greater the resistance of the circuit. We measure resistance in ohms. To measure it we find the quotient of the number of volts applied to the circuit by the number of amperes which flow. In my sixth letter I told you something of how the audion works. It would be worth while to read again that letter. You remember that the current in the plate circuit can be controlled by the e. m. f. which is applied to the grid circuit. There is a relationship between the plate current and the grid voltage which is peculiar or characteristic to the tube. So we call such a relationship "a characteristic." Let us see how it may be found and what it will be. Connect an ammeter in the plate- or B-circuit, of the tube so as to measure the plate-circuit current. You will find that almost all books use the letter "_I_" to stand for current. The reason is that scientists used to speak of the "intensity of an electric current" so that "_I_" really stands for intensity. We use _I_ to stand for something more than the word "current." It is our symbol for whatever an ammeter would read, that is for the amount of current. [Illustration: Fig 18] Another convenience in symbols is this: We shall frequently want to speak of the currents in several different circuits. It saves time to use another letter along with the letter _I_ to show the circuit to which we refer. For example, we are going to talk about the current in the B-circuit of the audion, so we call that current _I_{B}_. We write the letter _B_ below the line on which _I_ stands. That is why we say the _B_ is subscript, meaning "written below." When you are reading to yourself be sure to read _I_{B}_ as "eye-bee" or else as "eye-subscript-bee." _I_{B}_ therefore will stand for the number of amperes in the plate circuit of the audion. In the same way _I_{a}_ would stand for the current in the filament circuit. We are going to talk about e. m. f.'s also. The letter "_E_" stands for the number of volts of e. m. f. in a circuit. In the filament circuit the battery has _E_{A}_ volts. In the plate circuit the e. m. f. is _E_{B}_ volts. If we put a battery in the grid circuit we can let _E_{C}_ represent the number of volts applied to the grid-filament or C-circuit. The characteristic relation which we are after is one between grid voltage, that is _E_{C}_, and plate current, that is _I_{B}_. So we call it the _E_{C}_--_I_{B}_ characteristic. The dash between the letters is not a subtraction sign but merely a dash to separate the letters. Now we'll find the "ee-see-eye-bee" characteristic. Connect some small dry cells in series for use in the grid circuit. Then connect the filament to the middle cell as in Fig. 19. Take the wire which comes from the grid and put a battery clip on it, then you can connect the grid anywhere you want along this series of batteries. See Fig. 18. In the figure this movable clip is represented by an arrow head. You can see that if it is at _a_ the battery will make the grid positive. If it is moved to _b_ the grid will be more positive. On the other hand if the clip is at _o_ there will be no e. m. f. applied to the grid. If it is at _c_ the grid will be made negative. Between grid and filament there is placed a voltmeter which will tell how much e. m. f. is applied to the grid, that is, tell the value of _E_{C}_, for any position whatever of the clip. We shall start with the filament heated to a deep red. The manufacturers of the audion tell the purchaser what current should flow through the filament so that there will be the proper emission of electrons. There are easy ways of finding out for one's self but we shall not stop to describe them. The makers also tell how many volts to apply to the plate, that is what value _E_{B}_ should have. We could find this out also for ourselves but we shall not stop to do so. [Illustration: Fig 19] Now we set the battery clip so that there is no voltage applied to the grid; that is, we start with _E_{C}_ equal to zero. Then we read the ammeter in the plate circuit to find the value of _I_{B}_ which corresponds to this condition of the grid. Next we move the clip so as to make the grid as positive as one battery will make it, that is we move the clip to _a_ in Fig. 19. We now have a different value of _E_{C}_ and will find a different value of _I_{B}_ when we read the ammeter. Next move the clip to apply two batteries to the grid. We get a new pair of values for _E_{C}_ and _I_{B}_, getting _E_{C}_ from the voltmeter and _I_{B}_ from the ammeter. As we continue in this way, increasing _E_{C}_, we find that the current _I_{B}_ increases for a while and then after we have reached a certain value of _E_{C}_ the current _I_{B}_ stops increasing. Adding more batteries and making the grid more positive doesn't have any effect on the plate current. [Illustration: Fig 20] Before I tell you why this happens I want to show you how to make a picture of the pairs of values of _E_{C}_ and _I_{B}_ which we have been reading on the voltmeter and ammeter. Imagine a city where all the streets are at right angles and the north and south streets are called streets and numbered while the east and west thorofares are called avenues. I'll draw the map as in Fig. 20. Right through the center of the city goes Main Street. But the people who laid out the roads were mathematicians and instead of calling it Main Street they called it "Zero Street." The first street east of Zero St. we should have called "East First Street" but they called it "Positive 1 St." and the next beyond "Positive 2 St.," and so on. West of the main street they called the first street "Negative 1 St." and so on. When they came to name the avenues they were just as precise and mathematical. They called the main avenue "Zero Ave." and those north of it "Positive 1 Ave.," "Positive 2 Ave." and so on. Of course, the avenues south of Zero Ave. they called Negative. The Town Council went almost crazy on the subject of numbering; they numbered everything. The silent policeman which stood at the corner of "Positive 2 St." and "Positive 1 Ave." was marked that way. Half way between Positive 2 St. and Positive 3 St. there was a garage which set back about two-tenths of a block from Positive 1 Ave. The Council numbered it and called it "Positive 2.5 St. and Positive 1.2 Ave." Most of the people spoke of it as "Plus 2.5 St. and Plus 1.2 Ave." Sometime later there was an election in the city and a new Council was elected. The members were mostly young electricians and the new Highway Commissioner was a radio enthusiast. At the first meeting the Council changed the names of all the avenues to "Mil-amperes"[3] and of all the streets to "Volts." Then the Highway Commissioner who had just been taking a set of voltmeter and ammeter readings on an audion moved that there should be a new road known as "Audion Characteristic." He said the road should pass through the following points: Zero Volt and Plus 1.0 Mil-ampere Plus 2.0 Volts and Plus 1.7 Mil-amperes Plus 4.0 Volts and Plus 2.6 Mil-amperes Plus 6.0 Volts and Plus 3.4 Mil-amperes Plus 8.0 Volts and Plus 4.3 Mil-amperes And so on. Fig. 21 shows the new road. [Illustration: Fig 21] One member of the Council jumped up and said "But what if the grid is made negative?" The Commissioner had forgotten to see what happened so he went home to take more readings. He shifted the battery clip along, starting at _c_ of Fig. 22. At the next meeting of the Council he brought in the following list of readings and hence of points on his proposed road. Minus 1.0 Volts and Plus 0.6 Mil-ampere " 2.0 " " " 0.4 " " " 3.0 " " " 0.2 " " " 4.0 " " " 0.1 " " " 5.0 " " " 0.0 " " Then he showed the other members of the Council on the map of Fig. 23 how the Audion Characteristic would look. [Illustration: Fig 22] There was considerable discussion after that and it appeared that different designs and makes of audions would have different characteristic curves. They all had the same general form of curve but they would pass through different sets of points depending upon the design and upon the B-battery voltage. It was several meetings later, however, before they found out what effects were due to the form of the curve. Right after this they found that they could get much better results with their radio sets. Now look at the audion characteristic. Making the grid positive, that is going on the positive side of the zero volts in our map, makes the plate current larger. You remember that I told you in Letter 6 how the grid, when positive, helped call electrons away from the filament and so made a larger stream of electrons in the plate circuit. The grid calls electrons away from the filament. It can't call them out of it; they have to come out themselves as I explained to you in the fifth letter. [Illustration: Fig 23] You can see that as we make the grid more and more positive, that is, make it call louder and louder, a condition will be reached where it won't do it any good to call any louder, for it will already be getting all the electrons away from the filament just as fast as they are emitted. Making the grid more positive after that will not increase the plate current any. That's why the characteristic flattens off as you see at high values of grid voltage. The arrangement which we pictured in Fig. 22 for making changes in the grid voltage is simple but it doesn't let us change the voltage by less than that of a single battery cell. I want to show you a way which will. You'll find it very useful to know and it is easily understood for it is something like the arrangement of Fig. 14 in the preceding letter. [Illustration: Fig 24] Connect the cells as in Fig. 24 to a fine wire. About the middle of this wire connect the filament. As before use a clip on the end of the wire from the grid. If the grid is connected to _a_ in the figure there is applied to the grid circuit that part of the e. m. f. of the battery which is active in the length of wire between _o_ and _a_. The point _a_ is nearer the positive plate of the battery than is the point _o_. So the grid will be positive and the filament negative. On the other hand, if the clip is connected at _b_ the grid will be negative with respect to the filament. We can, therefore, make the grid positive or negative depending on which side of _o_ we connect the clip. How large the e. m. f. is which will be applied to the grid depends, of course, upon how far away from _o_ the clip is connected. Suppose you took the clip in your hand and slid it along in contact with the wire, first from _o_ to _a_ and then back again through _o_ to _b_ and so on back and forth. You would be making the grid _alternately_ positive and negative, wouldn't you? That is, you would be applying to the grid an e. m. f. which increases to some positive value and then, decreasing to zero, _reverses_, and increases just as much, only to decrease to zero, where it started. If you do this over and over again, taking always the same time for one round trip of the clip you will be impressing on the grid circuit an "_alternating e. m. f._" What's going to happen in the plate circuit? When there is no e. m. f. applied to the grid circuit, that is when the grid potential (possibilities) is zero, there is a definite current in the plate circuit. That current we can find from our characteristic of Fig. 23 for it is where the curve crosses Zero Volts. As the grid becomes positive the current rises above this value. When the grid is made negative the current falls below this value. The current, _I_{B}_, then is made alternately greater and less than the current when _E_{C}_ is zero. You might spend a little time thinking over this, seeing what happens when an alternating e. m. f. is applied to the grid of an audion, for that is going to be fundamental to our study of radio. [Footnote 3: A mil-ampere is a thousandth of an ampere just as a millimeter is a thousandth of a meter.] LETTER 10 CONDENSERS AND COILS DEAR SON: In the last letter we learned of an alternating e. m. f. The way of producing it, which I described, is very crude and I want to tell how to make the audion develop an alternating e. m. f. for itself. That is what the audion does in the transmitting set of a radio telephone. But an audion can't do it all alone. It must have associated with it some coils and a condenser. You know what I mean by coils but you have yet to learn about condensers. A condenser is merely a gap in an otherwise conducting circuit. It's a gap across which electrons cannot pass so that if there is an e. m. f. in the circuit, electrons will be very plentiful on one side of the gap and scarce on the other side. If there are to be many electrons waiting beside the gap there must be room for them. For that reason we usually provide waiting-rooms for the electrons on each side of the gap. Metal plates or sheets of tinfoil serve nicely for this purpose. Look at Fig. 25. You see a battery and a circuit which would be conducting except for the gap at _C_. On each side of the gap there is a sheet of metal. The metal sheets may be separated by air or mica or paraffined paper. The combination of gap, plates, and whatever is between, provided it is not conducting, is called a condenser. Let us see what happens when we connect a battery to a condenser as in the figure. The positive terminal of the battery calls electrons from one plate of the condenser while the negative battery-terminal drives electrons away from itself toward the other plate of the condenser. One plate of the condenser, therefore, becomes positive while the other plate becomes negative. [Illustration: Fig 25] You know that this action of the battery will go on until there are so many electrons in the negative plate of the condenser that they prevent the battery from adding any more electrons to that plate. The same thing happens at the other condenser plate. The positive terminal of the battery calls electrons away from the condenser plate which it is making positive until so many electrons have left that the protons in the atoms of the plate are calling for electrons to stay home just as loudly and effectively as the positive battery-terminal is calling them away. When both these conditions are reached--and they are both reached at the same time--then the battery has to stop driving electrons around the circuit. The battery has not enough e. m. f. to drive any more electrons. Why? Because the condenser has now just enough e. m. f. with which to oppose the battery. It would be well to learn at once the right words to use in describing this action. We say that the battery sends a "charging current" around its circuit and "charges the condenser" until it has the same e. m. f. When the battery is first connected to the condenser there is lots of space in the waiting-rooms so there is a great rush or surge of electrons into one plate and away from the other. Just at this first instant the charging current, therefore, is large but it decreases rapidly, for the moment electrons start to pile up on one plate of the condenser and to leave the other, an e. m. f. builds up on the condenser. This e. m. f., of course, opposes that of the battery so that the net e. m. f. acting to move electrons round the circuit is no longer that of the battery, but is the difference between the e. m. f. of the battery and that of the condenser. And so, with each added electron, the e. m. f. of the condenser increases until finally it is just equal to that of the battery and there is no net e. m. f. to act. What would happen if we should then disconnect the battery? The condenser would be left with its extra electrons in the negative plate and with its positive plate lacking the same number of electrons. That is, the condenser would be left charged and its e. m. f. would be of the same number of volts as the battery. [Illustration: Fig 26] Now suppose we connect a short wire between the plates of the condenser as in Fig. 26. The electrons rush home from the negative plate to the positive plate. As fast as electrons get home the e. m. f. decreases. When they are all back the e. m. f. has been reduced to zero. Sometimes we say that "the condenser discharges." The "discharge current" starts with a rush the moment the conducting path is offered between the two plates. The e. m. f. of the condenser falls, the discharge current grows smaller, and in a very short time the condenser is completely discharged. [Illustration: Fig 27] That's what happens when there is a short conducting path for the discharge current. If that were all that could happen I doubt if there would be any radio communication to-day. But if we connect a coil of wire between two plates of a charged condenser, as in Fig. 27, then something of great interest happens. To understand you must know something more about electron streams. Suppose we should wind a few turns of wire on a cylindrical core, say on a stiff cardboard tube. We shall use insulated wire. Now start from one end of the coil, say _a_, and follow along the coiled wire for a few turns and then scratch off the insulation and solder onto the coil two wires, _b_, and _c_, as shown in Fig. 28. The further end of the coil we shall call _d_. Now let's arrange a battery and switch so that we can send a current through the part of the coil between _a_ and _b_. Arrange also a current-measuring instrument so as to show if any current is flowing in the part of the coil between _c_ and _d_. For this purpose we shall use a kind of current-measuring instrument which I have not yet explained. It is different from the hot-wire type described in Letter 7 for it will show in which direction electrons are streaming through it. The diagram of Fig. 28 indicates the apparatus of our experiment. When we close the switch, _S_, the battery starts a stream of electrons from _a_ towards _b_. Just at that instant the needle, or pointer, of the current instrument moves. The needle moves, and thus shows a current in the coil _cd_; but it comes right back again, showing that the current is only momentary. Let's say this again in different words. The battery keeps steadily forcing electrons through the circuit _ab_ but the instrument in the circuit _cd_ shows no current in that circuit except just at the instant when current starts to flow in the neighboring circuit _ab_. [Illustration: Fig 28] One thing this current-measuring instrument tells us is the direction of the electron stream through itself. It shows that the momentary stream of electrons goes through the coil from _d_ to _c_, that is in the opposite direction to the stream in the part _ab_. Now prepare to do a little close thinking. Read over carefully all I have told you about this experiment. You see that the moment the battery starts a stream of electrons from _a_ towards _b_, something causes a momentary, that is a temporary, movement of electrons from _d_ to _c_. We say that starting a stream of electrons from _a_ to _b_ sets up or "induces" a stream of electrons from _d_ to _c_. What will happen then if we connect the battery between _a_ and _d_ as in Fig. 29? Electrons will start streaming away from _a_ towards _b_, that is towards _d_. But that means there will be a momentary stream from _d_ towards _c_, that is towards _a_. Our stream from the battery causes this oppositely directed stream. In the usual words we say it "induces" in the coil an opposing stream of electrons. This opposing stream doesn't last long, as we saw, but while it does last it hinders the stream which the battery is trying to establish. [Illustration: Fig 29] The stream of electrons which the battery causes will at first meet an opposition so it takes a little time before the battery can get the full-sized stream of electrons flowing steadily. In other words a current in a coil builds up slowly, because while it is building up it induces an effect which opposes somewhat its own building up. Did you ever see a small boy start off somewhere, perhaps where he shouldn't be going, and find his conscience starting to trouble him at once. For a time he goes a little slowly but in a moment or two his conscience stops opposing him and he goes on steadily at his full pace. When he started he stirred up his conscience and that opposed him. Nobody else was hindering his going. It was all brought about by his own actions. The opposition which he met was "self-induced." He was hindered at first by a self-induced effect of his own conscience. If he was a stream of electrons starting off to travel around the coil we would say that he was opposed by a self-induced e. m. f. And any path in which such an effect will be produced we say has "self-inductance." Usually we shorten this term and speak of "inductance." There is another way of looking at it. We know habits are hard to form and equally hard to break. It's hard to get electrons going around a coil and the self-inductance of a circuit tells us how hard it is. The harder it is the more self-inductance we say that the coil or circuit has. Of course, we need a unit in which to measure self-inductance. The unit is called the "henry." But that is more self-inductance than we can stand in most radio circuits, so we find it convenient to measure in smaller units called "mil-henries" which are thousandths of a henry. You ought to know what a henry[4] is, if we are to use the word, but it isn't necessary just now to spend much time on it. The opposition which one's self-induced conscience offers depends upon how rapidly one starts. It's volts which make electrons move and so the conscience which opposes them will be measured in volts. Therefore we say that a coil has one henry of inductance when an electron stream which is increasing one ampere's worth each second stirs up in the coil a conscientious objection of one volt. Don't try to remember this now; you can come back to it later. There is one more effect of inductance which we must know before we can get very far with our radio. Suppose an electron stream is flowing through a coil because a battery is driving the electrons along. Now let the battery be removed or disconnected. You'd expect the electron stream to stop at once but it doesn't. It keeps on for a moment because the electrons have got the habit. [Illustration: Fig 28] If you look again at Fig. 28 you will see what I mean. Suppose the switch is closed and a steady stream of electrons is flowing through the coil from _a_ to _b_. There will be no current in the other part of the coil. Now open the switch. There will be a motion of the needle of the current-measuring instrument, showing a momentary current. The direction of this motion, however, shows that the momentary stream of electrons goes through the coil from _c_ to _d_. Do you see what this means? The moment the battery is disconnected there is nothing driving the electrons in the part _ab_ and they slow down. Immediately, and just for an instant, a stream of electrons starts off in the part _cd_ in the same direction as if the battery was driving them along. Now look again at Fig. 29. If the battery is suddenly disconnected there is a momentary rush of electrons in the same direction as the battery was driving them. Just as the self-inductance of a coil opposes the starting of a stream of electrons, so it opposes the stopping of a stream which is already going. [Illustration: Fig 29] So far we haven't said much about making an audion produce alternating e. m. f.'s and thus making it useful for radio-telephony. Before radio was possible all these things that I have just told you, and some more too, had to be known. It took hundreds of good scientists years of patient study and experiment to find out those ideas about electricity which have made possible radio-telephony. Two of these ideas are absolutely necessary for the student of radio-communication. First: A condenser is a gap in a circuit where there are waiting-rooms for the electrons. Second: Electrons form habits. It's hard to get them going through a coil of wire, harder than through a straight wire, but after they are going they don't like to stop. They like it much less if they are going through a coil instead of a straight wire. In my next letter I'll tell you what happens when we have a coil and a condenser together in a circuit. [Footnote 4: The "henry" has nothing to do with a well-known automobile. It was named after Joseph Henry, a professor years ago at Princeton University.] LETTER 11 A "C-W" TRANSMITTER DEAR SON: [Illustration: Fig 28] Let's look again at the coils of Fig. 28 which we studied in the last letter. I have reproduced them here so you won't have to turn back. When electrons start from _a_ towards _b_ there is a momentary stream of electrons from _d_ towards _c_. If the electron stream through _ab_ were started in the opposite direction, that is from _b_ to _a_ the induced stream in the coil _cd_ would be from _c_ towards _d_. [Illustration: Fig 30] It all reminds me of two boys with a hedge or fence between them as in Fig. 30. One boy is after the other. Suppose you were being chased; you know what you'd do. If your pursuer started off with a rush towards one end of the hedge you'd "beat it" towards the other. But if he started slowly and cautiously you would start slowly too. You always go in the opposite direction, dodging back and forth along the paths which you are wearing in the grass on opposite sides of the hedge. If he starts to the right and then slows up and starts back, you will start to your right, slow up, and start back. Suppose he starts at the center of the hedge. First he dodges to the right, and then back through the center as far to the left, then back again and so on. You follow his every change. [Illustration: Fig 31] I am going to make a picture of what you two do. Let's start with the other fellow. He dodges or alternates back and forth. Some persons would say he "oscillates" back and forth in the same path. As he does so he induces you to move. I am on your side of the hedge with a moving-picture camera. My camera catches both of you. Fig. 31 shows the way the film would look if it caught only your heads. The white circle represents the tow-head on my side of the hedge and the black circle, young Brown who lives next door. Of course, the camera only catches you each time the shutter opens but it is easy to draw a complete picture of what takes place as time goes on. See Fig. 32. [Illustration: Fig 32] Now suppose you are an electron in coil _cd_ of Fig. 33 and "Brownie" is one in coil _ab_. Your motions are induced by his. What's true of you two is true of all the other electrons. I have separated the coils a little in this sketch so that you can think of a hedge between. I don't know how one electron can affect another on the opposite side of this hedge but it can. And I don't know anything really about the hedge, which is generally called "the ether." The hedge isn't air. The effect would be the same if the coils were in a vacuum. The "ether" is just a name for whatever is left in the space about us when we have taken out everything which we can see or feel--every molecule, every proton and every electron. [Illustration: Fig 33] Why and how electrons can affect one another when they are widely separated is one of the great mysteries of science. We don't know any more about it than about why there are electrons. Let's accept it as a fundamental fact which we can't as yet explain. [Illustration: Fig 34] And now we can see how to make an audion produce an alternating current or as we sometimes say "make an audion oscillator." We shall set up an audion with its A-battery as in Fig. 34. Between the grid and the filament we put a coil and a condenser. Notice that they are in parallel, as we say. In the plate-filament circuit we connect the B-battery and a switch, _S_, and another coil. This coil in the plate circuit of the audion we place close to the other coil so that the two coils are just like the coils _ab_ and _cd_ of which I have been telling you. The moment any current flows in coil _ab_ there will be a current flow in the coil _cd_. (An induced electron stream.) Of course, as long as the switch in the B-battery is open no current can flow. The moment the switch _S_ is closed the B-battery makes the plate positive with respect to the filament and there is a sudden surge of electrons round the plate circuit and through the coil from _a_ to _b_. You know what that does to the coil _cd_. It induces an electron stream from _d_ towards _c_. Where do these electrons come from? Why, from the grid and the plate 1 of the condenser. Where do they go? Most of them go to the waiting-room offered by plate 2 of the condenser and some, of course, to the filament. What is the result? The grid becomes positive and the filament negative. [Illustration: Fig 35] This is the crucial moment in our study. Can you tell me what is going to happen to the stream of electrons in the plate circuit? Remember that just at the instant when we closed the switch the grid was neither positive nor negative. We were at the point of zero volts on the audion characteristic of Fig. 35. When we close the switch the current in the plate circuit starts to jump from zero mil-amperes to the number of mil-amperes which represents the point where Zero Volt St. crosses Audion Characteristic. But this jump in plate current makes the grid positive as we have just seen. So the grid will help the plate call electrons and that will make the current in the plate circuit still larger, that is, result in a larger stream of electrons from _a_ to _b_. This increase in current will be matched by an increased effect in the coil _cd_, for you remember how you and "Brownie" behaved. And that will pull more electrons away from plate 1 of the condenser and send them to the waiting-room of 2. All this makes the grid more positive and so makes it call all the more effectively to help the plate move electrons. [Illustration: Pl. V.--Variometer (top) and Variable Condenser (bottom) of the General Radio Company. Voltmeter and Ammeter of the Weston Instrument Company.] We "started something" that time. It's going on all by itself. The grid is getting more positive, the plate current is getting bigger, and so the grid is getting more positive and the plate current still bigger. Is it ever going to stop? Yes. Look at the audion characteristic. There comes a time when making the grid a little more positive won't have any effect on the plate-circuit current. So the plate current stops increasing. There is nothing now to keep pulling electrons away from plate 1 and crowding them into waiting-room 2. Why shouldn't the electrons in this waiting-room go home to that of plate 1? There is now no reason and so they start off with a rush. Of course, some of them came from the grid and as fast as electrons get back to the grid it becomes less and less positive. As the grid becomes less and less positive it becomes less and less helpful to the plate. If the grid doesn't help, the plate alone can't keep up this stream of electrons. All the plate can do by itself is to maintain the current represented by the intersection of zero volts and the audion characteristic. The result is that the current in the plate circuit, that is, of course, the current in coil _ab_, becomes gradually less. About the time all the electrons, which had left the grid and plate 1 of the condenser, have got home the plate current is back to the value corresponding to _E_{C}_=_0_. The plate current first increases and then decreases, but it doesn't stop decreasing when it gets back to zero-grid value. And the reason is all due to the habit forming tendencies of electrons in coils. To see how this comes about, let's tell the whole story over again. In other words let's make a review and so get a sort of flying start. [Illustration: Fig 34] When we close the battery switch, _S_ in Fig. 34, we allow a current to flow in the plate circuit. This current induces a current in the coil _cd_ and charges the condenser which is across it, making plate 1 positive and plate 2 negative. A positive grid helps the plate so that the current in the plate circuit builds up to the greatest possible value as shown by the audion characteristic. That's the end of the increase in current. Now the condenser discharges, sending electrons through the coil _cd_ and making the grid less positive until finally it is at zero potential, that is neither positive nor negative. While the condenser is discharging the electrons in the coil _cd_ get a habit of flowing from _c_ toward _d_, that is from plate 2 to plate 1. If it wasn't for this habit the electron stream in _cd_ would stop as soon as the grid had reduced to zero voltage. Because of the habit, however, a lot of electrons that ought to stay on plate 2 get hurried along and land on plate 1. It is a little like the old game of "crack the whip." Some electrons get the habit and can't stop quickly enough so they go tumbling into waiting-room 1 and make it negative. That means that the condenser not only discharges but starts to get charged in the other direction with plate 1 negative and plate 2 positive. The grid feels the effect of all this, because it gets extra electrons if plate 1 gets them. In fact the voltage effective between grid and filament is always the voltage between the plates of the condenser. The audion characteristic tells us what is the result. As the grid becomes negative it opposes the plate, shooing electrons back towards the filament and reducing the plate current still further. But you have already seen in my previous letter what happens when we reduce the current in coil _ab_. There is then induced in coil _cd_ an electron stream from _c_ to _d_. This induced current is in just the right direction to send more electrons into waiting-room 1 and so to make the grid still more negative. And the more negative the grid gets the smaller becomes the plate current until finally the plate current is reduced to zero. Look at the audion characteristic again and see that making the grid sufficiently negative entirely stops the plate current. When the plate current stops, the condenser in the grid circuit is charged, with plate 1 negative and 2 positive. It was the plate current which was the main cause of this change for it induced the charging current in coil _cd_. So, when the plate current becomes zero there is nothing to prevent the condenser from discharging. Its discharge makes the grid less and less negative until it is zero volts and there we are--back practically where we started. The plate current is increasing and the grid is getting positive, and we're off on another "cycle" as we say. During a cycle the plate current increases to a maximum, decreases to zero, and then increases again to its initial value. [Illustration: Fig 36] This letter has a longer continuous train of thought than I usually ask you to follow. But before I stop I want to give you some idea of what good this is in radio. What about the current which flows in coil _cd_? It's an alternating current, isn't it? First the electrons stream from _d_ towards _c_, and then back again from _c_ towards _d_. Suppose we set up another coil like _CD_ in Fig. 36. It would have an alternating current induced in it. If this coil was connected to an antenna there would be radio waves sent out. The switch _S_ could be used for a key and kept closed longer or shorter intervals depending upon whether dashes or dots were being set. I'll tell you more about this later, but in this diagram are the makings of a "C-W Transmitter," that is a "continuous wave transmitter" for radio-telegraphy. It would be worth while to go over this letter again using a pencil and tracing in the various circuits the electron streams which I have described. LETTER 12 INDUCTANCE AND CAPACITY DEAR SIR: In the last letter I didn't stop to draw you a picture of the action of the audion oscillator which I described. I am going to do it now and you are to imagine me as using two pencils and drawing simultaneously two curves. One curve shows what happens to the current in the plate circuit. The other shows how the voltage of the grid changes. Both curves start from the instant when the switch is closed; and the two taken together show just what happens in the tube from instant to instant. Fig. 37 shows the two curves. You will notice how I have drawn them beside and below the audion characteristic. The grid voltage and the plate current are related, as I have told you, and the audion characteristic is just a convenient way of showing the relationship. If we know the current in the plate circuit we can find the voltage of the grid and vice versa. As time goes on, the plate current grows to its maximum and decreases to zero and then goes on climbing up and down between these two extremes. The grid voltage meanwhile is varying alternately, having its maximum positive value when the plate current is a maximum and its maximum negative value when the plate current is zero. Look at the two curves and see this for yourself. [Illustration: Fig 37] Now I want to tell you something about how fast these oscillations occur. We start by learning two words. One is "cycle" with which you are already partly familiar and the other is "frequency." Take cycle first. Starting from zero the current increases to a maximum, decreases to zero, and is ready again for the same series of changes. We say the current has passed through "a cycle of values." It doesn't make any difference where we start from. If we follow the current through all its different values until we are back at the same value as we started with and ready to start all over, then we have followed through a cycle of values. Once you get the idea of a cycle, and the markings on the curves in Fig. 31 will help you to understand, then the other idea is easy. By "frequency" we mean the number of cycles each second. The electric current which we use in lighting our house goes through sixty cycles a second. That means the current reverses its direction 120 times a second. In radio we use alternating currents which have very high frequencies. In ship sets the frequency is either 500,000 or 1,000,000 cycles per second. Amateur transmitting sets usually have oscillators which run at well over a million cycles per second. The longer range stations use lower frequencies. You'll find, however, that the newspaper announcements of the various broadcast stations do not tell the frequency but instead tell the "wave length." I am not going to stop now to explain what that means but I am going to give you a simple rule. Divide 300,000,000 by the "wave length" and you'll have the frequency. For example, ships are supposed to use wave lengths of 300 meters or 600 meters. Dividing three hundred million by three hundred gives one million and that is one of the frequencies which I told you were used by ship sets. Dividing by six hundred gives 500,000 or just half the frequency. You can remember that sets transmitting with long waves have low frequencies, but sets with short waves have high frequencies. The frequency and the wave length don't change in the same way. They change in opposite ways or inversely, as we say. The higher the frequency the shorter the wave length. I'll tell you about wave lengths later. First let's see how to control the frequency of an audion oscillator like that of Fig. 38. [Illustration: Fig 38] It takes time to get a full-sized stream going through a coil because of the inductance of the coil. That you have learned. And also it takes time for such a current to stop completely. Therefore, if we make the inductance of the coil small, keeping the condenser the same, we shall make the time required for the current to start and stop smaller. That will mean a higher frequency for there will be more oscillations each second. One rule, then, for increasing the frequency of an audion oscillator is to decrease the inductance. Later in this letter I shall tell you how to increase or decrease the inductance of a coil. Before I do so, however, I want to call your attention to the other way in which we can change the frequency of an audion oscillator. Let's see how the frequency will depend upon the capacity of the condenser. If a condenser has a large capacity it means that it can accommodate in its waiting-room a large number of electrons before the e. m. f. of the condenser becomes large enough to stop the stream of electrons which is charging the condenser. If the condenser in the grid circuit of Fig. 38 is of large capacity it means that it must receive in its upper waiting-room a large number of electrons before the grid will be negative enough to make the plate current zero. Therefore, the charging current will have to flow a long time to store up the necessary number of electrons. You will get the same idea, of course, if you think about the electrons in the lower room. The current in the plate circuit will not stop increasing until the voltage of the grid has become positive enough to make the plate current a maximum. It can't do that until enough electrons have left the upper room and been stored away in the lower. Therefore the charging current will have to flow for a long time if the capacity is large. We have, therefore, the other rule for increasing the frequency of an audion oscillator, that is, decrease the capacity. These rules can be stated the other way around. To decrease the frequency we can either increase the capacity or increase the inductance or do both. But what would happen if we should decrease the capacity and increase the inductance? Decreasing the capacity would make the frequency higher, but increasing the inductance would make it lower. What would be the net effect? That would depend upon how much we decreased the capacity and how much we increased the inductance. It would be possible to decrease the capacity and then if we increased the inductance just the right amount to have no change in the frequency. No matter how large or how small we make the capacity we can always make the inductance such that there isn't any change in frequency. I'll give you a rule for this, after I have told you some more things about capacities and inductances. First as to inductances. A short straight wire has a very small inductance, indeed. The longer the wire the larger will be the inductance but unless the length is hundreds of feet there isn't much inductance anyway. A coiled wire is very different. A coil of wire will have more inductance the more turns there are to it. That isn't the whole story but it's enough for the moment. Let's see why. The reason why a stream of electrons has an opposing conscience when they are started off in a coil of wire is because each electron affects every other electron which can move in a parallel path. Look again at the coils of Figs. 28 and 29 which we discussed in the tenth letter. Those sketches plainly bring out the fact that the electrons in part _cd_ travel in paths which are parallel to those of the electrons in part _ab_. [Illustration: Fig 39] If we should turn these coils as in Fig. 39 so that all the paths in _cd_ are at right angles to those in _ab_ there wouldn't be any effect in _cd_ when a current in _ab_ started or stopped. Look at the circuit of the oscillating audion in Fig. 38. If we should turn these coils at right angles to each other we would stop the oscillation. Electrons only influence other electrons which are in parallel paths. When we want a large inductance we wind the coil so that there are many parallel paths. Then when the battery starts to drive an electron along, this electron affects all its fellows who are in parallel paths and tries to start them off in the opposite direction to that in which it is being driven. The battery, of course, starts to drive all the electrons, not only those nearest its negative terminal but those all along the wire. And every one of these electrons makes up for the fact that the battery is driving it along by urging all its fellows in the opposite direction. It is not an exceptional state of affairs. Suppose a lot of boys are being driven out of a yard where they had no right to be playing. Suppose also that a boy can resist and lag back twice as much if some other boy urges him to do so. Make it easy and imagine three boys. The first boy lags back not only on his own account but because of the urging of the other boys. That makes him three times as hard to start as if the other boys didn't influence him. The same is true of the second boy and also of the third. The result is the unfortunate property owner has nine times as hard a job getting that gang started as if only one boy were to be dealt with. If there were two boys it would be four times as hard as for one boy. If there were four in the group it would be sixteen times, and if five it would be twenty-five times. The difficulty increases much more rapidly than the number of boys. Now all we have to do to get the right idea of inductance is to think of each boy as standing for the electrons in one turn of the coil. If there are five turns there will be twenty-five times as much inductance, as for a single turn; and so on. You see that we can change the inductance of a coil very easily by changing the number of turns. I'll tell you two things more about inductance because they will come in handy. The first is that the inductance will be larger if the turns are large circles. You can see that for yourself because if the circles were very small we would have practically a straight wire. The other fact is this. If that property owner had been an electrical engineer and the boys had been electrons he would have fixed it so that while half of them said, "Aw, don't go; he can't put you off"; the other half would have said "Come on, let's get out." If he did that he would have a coil without any inductance, that is, he would have only the natural inertia of the electrons to deal with. We would say that he had made a coil with "pure resistance" or else that he had made a "non-inductive resistance." [Illustration: Fig 40] How would he do it? Easy enough after one learns how, but quite ingenious. Take the wire and fold it at the middle. Start with the middle and wind the coil with the doubled wire. Fig. 40 shows how the coil would look and you can see that part of the way the electrons are going around the coil in one direction and the rest of the way in the opposite direction. It is just as if the boys were paired off, a "goody-goody" and a "tough nut" together. They both shout at once opposite advice and neither has any effect. I have told you all except one of the ways in which we can affect the inductance of a circuit. You know now all the methods which are important in radio. So let's consider how to make large or small capacities. First I want to tell you how we measure the capacity of a condenser. We use units called "microfarads." You remember that an ampere means an electron stream at the rate of about six billion billion electrons a second. A millionth of an ampere would, therefore, be a stream at the rate of about six million million electrons a second--quite a sizable little stream for any one who wanted to count them as they went by. If a current of one millionth of an ampere should flow for just one second six million million electrons would pass along by every point in the path or circuit. That is what would happen if there weren't any waiting-rooms in the circuit. If there was a condenser then that number of electrons would leave one waiting-room and would enter the other. Well, suppose that just as the last electron of this enormous number[5] entered its waiting-room we should know that the voltage of the condenser was just one volt. Then we would say that the condenser had a capacity of one microfarad. If it takes half that number to make the condenser oppose further changes in the contents of its waiting-rooms, with one volt's worth of opposition, that is, one volt of e. m. f., then the condenser has only half a microfarad of capacity. The number of microfarads of capacity (abbreviated mf.) is a measure of how many electrons we can get away from one plate and into the other before the voltage rises to one volt. What must we do then to make a condenser with large capacity? Either of two things; either make the waiting-rooms large or put them close together. If we make the plates of a condenser larger, keeping the separation between them the same, it means more space in the waiting-rooms and hence less crowding. You know that the more crowded the electrons become the more they push back against any other electron which some battery is trying to force into their waiting-room, that is the higher the e. m. f. of the condenser. The other way to get a larger capacity is to bring the plates closer together, that is to shorten the gap. Look at it this way: The closer the plates are together the nearer home the electrons are. Their home is only just across a little gap; they can almost see the electronic games going on around the nuclei they left. They forget the long round-about journey they took to get to this new waiting-room and they crowd over to one side of this room to get just as close as they can to their old homes. That's why it's always easier, and takes less voltage, to get the same number of electrons moved from one plate to the other of a condenser which has only a small space between plates. It takes less voltage and that means that the condenser has a smaller e. m. f. for the same number of electrons. It also means that before the e. m. f. rises to one volt we can get more electrons moved around if the plates are close together. And that means larger capacity. There is one thing to remember in all this: It doesn't make any difference how thick the plates are. It all depends upon how much surface they have and how close together they are. Most of the electrons in the plate which is being made negative are way over on the side toward their old homes, that is, toward the plate which is being made positive. And most of the homes, that is, atoms which have lost electrons, are on the side of the positive plate which is next to the gap. That's why I said the electrons could almost see their old homes. [Illustration: Fig 41] All this leads to two very simple rules for building condensers. If you have a condenser with too small a capacity and want one, say, twice as large, you can either use twice as large plates or bring the plates you already have twice as close together; that is, make the gap half as large. Generally, of course, the gap is pretty well fixed. For example, if we make a condenser by using two pieces of metal and separating them by a sheet of mica we don't want the job of splitting the mica. So we increase the size of the plates. We can do that either by using larger plates or other plates and connecting it as in Fig. 41 so that the total waiting-room space for electrons is increased. [Illustration: Pl. VI.--Low-power Transmitting Tube, U V 202 (Courtesy of Radio Corporation of America).] [Illustration: Fig 42] If you have got these ideas you can understand how we use both sides of the same plate in some types of condensers. Look at Fig. 42. There are two plates connected together and a third between them. Suppose electrons are pulled from the outside plates and crowded into the middle plate. Some of them go on one side and some on the other, as I have shown. The negative signs indicate electrons and the plus signs their old homes. If we use more plates as in Fig. 43 we have a larger capacity. [Illustration: Fig 43] [Illustration: Fig 44] What if we have two plates which are not directly opposite one another, like those of Fig. 44? What does the capacity depend upon? Imagine yourself an electron on the negative plate. Look off toward the positive plate and see how big it seems to you. The bigger it looks the more capacity the condenser has. When the plates are right opposite one another the positive plate looms up pretty large. But if they slide apart you don't see so much of it; and if it is off to one side about all you see is the edge. If you can't see lots of atoms which have lost electrons and so would make good homes for you, there is no use of your staying around on that side of the plate; you might just as well be trying to go back home the long way which you originally came. That's why in a variable plate condenser there is very little capacity when no parts of the plates are opposite each other, and there is the greatest capacity when they are exactly opposite one another. [Illustration: Fig 45] While we are at it we might just as well clean up this whole business of variable capacities and inductances by considering two ways in which to make a variable inductance. Fig. 45 shows the simplest way but it has some disadvantages which I won't try now to explain. We make a long coil and then take off taps. We can make connections between one end of the coil and any of the taps. The more turns there are included in the part of the coil which we are using the greater is the inductance. If we want to do a real job we can bring each of these taps to a little stud and arrange a sliding or rotating contact with them. Then we have an inductance the value of which we can vary "step-by-step" in a convenient manner. Another way to make a variable inductance is to make what is called a "variometer." I dislike the name because it doesn't "meter" anything. If properly calibrated it would of course "meter" inductance, but then it should be called an "inducto-meter." Do you remember the gang of boys that fellow had to drive off his property? What if there had been two different gangs playing there? How much trouble he has depends upon whether there is anything in common between the gangs. Suppose they are playing in different parts of his property and so act just as if the other crowd wasn't also trespassing. He could just add the trouble of starting one gang to the trouble of starting the other. It would be very different if the gangs have anything in common. Then one would encourage the other much as the various boys of the same gang encourage each other. He would have a lot more trouble. And this extra trouble would be because of the relations between gangs, that is, because of their "mutual inductance." On the other hand suppose the gangs came from different parts of the town and disliked each other. He wouldn't have nearly the trouble. Each gang would be yelling at the other as they went along: "You'd better beat it. He knows all right, all right, who broke that bush down by the gate. Just wait till he catches you." They'd get out a little easier, each in the hope the other crowd would catch it from the owner. There's a case where their mutual relations, their mutual inductance, makes the job easier. That's true of coils with inductance. Suppose you wind two inductance coils and connect them in series. If they are at right angles to each other as in Fig. 46a they have no effect on each other. There is no mutual inductance. But if they are parallel and wound the same way like the coils of Fig. 46b they will act like a single coil of greater inductance. If the coils are parallel but wound in opposite directions as in Fig. 46c they will have less inductance because of their mutual inductance. You can check these statements for yourself if you'll refer back to Letter 10 and see what happens in the same way as I told you in discussing Fig. 28. [Illustration: Fig 46a] [Illustration: Fig 46b] If the coils are neither parallel nor at right angles there will be some mutual inductance but not as much as if they were parallel. By turning the coils we can get all the variations in mutual relations from the case of Fig. 46b to that of Fig. 46c. That's what we arrange to do in a variable inductance of the variometer type. [Illustration: Fig 46c] There is another way of varying the mutual inductance. We can make one coil slide inside another. If it is way inside, the total inductance which the two coils offer is either larger than the sum of what they can offer separately or less, depending upon whether the windings are in the same direction or opposite. As we pull the coil out the mutual effect becomes less and finally when it is well outside the mutual inductance is very small. Now we have several methods of varying capacity and inductance and therefore we are ready to vary the frequency of our audion oscillator; that is, "tune" it, as we say. In my next letter I shall show you why we tune. Now for the rule which I promised. The frequency to which a circuit is tuned depends upon the product of the number of mil-henries in the coil and the number of microfarads in the condenser. Change the coil and the condenser as much as you want but keep this product the same and the frequency will be the same. [Footnote 5: More accurately the number is 6,286,000,000,000.] LETTER 13 TUNING DEAR RADIO ENTHUSIAST: I want to tell you about receiving sets and their tuning. In the last letter I told you what determines the frequency of oscillation of an audion oscillator. It was the condenser and inductance which you studied in connection with Fig. 36. That's what determines the frequency and also what makes the oscillations. All the tube does is to keep them going. Let's see why this is so. [Illustration: Fig 47a] Start first, as in Fig. 47a, with a very simple circuit of a battery and a non-inductive resistance, that is, a wire wound like that of Fig. 40 in the previous letter, so that it has no inductance. The battery must do work forcing electrons through that wire. It has the ability, or the energy as we say. [Illustration: Fig 47b] Now connect a condenser to the battery as in Fig. 47b. The connecting wires are very short; and so practically all the work which the battery does is in storing electrons in the negative plate of the condenser and robbing the positive plate. The battery displaces a certain number of electrons in the waiting-rooms of the condenser. How many, depends upon how hard it can push and pull, that is on its e. m. f., and upon how much capacity the condenser has. [Illustration: Fig 47c] Remove the battery and connect the charged condenser to the resistance as in Fig. 47c. The electrons rush home. They bump and jostle their way along, heating the wire as they go. They have a certain amount of energy or ability to do work because they are away from home and they use it all up, bouncing along on their way. When once they are home they have used up all the surplus energy which the battery gave them. Try it again, but this time, as in Fig. 47d, connect the charged condenser to a coil which has inductance. The electrons don't get started as fast because of the inductance. But they keep going because the electrons in the wire form the habit. The result is that about the time enough electrons have got into plate 2 (which was positive), to satisfy all its lonely protons, the electrons in the wire are streaming along at a great rate. A lot of them keep going until they land on this plate and so make it negative. [Illustration: Fig 47d] That's the same sort of thing that happens in the case of the inductance and condenser in the oscillating audion circuit except for one important fact. There is nothing to keep electrons going to the 2 plate except this habit. And there are plenty of stay-at-home electrons to stop them as they rush along. They bump and jostle, but some of them are stopped or else diverted so that they go bumping around without getting any nearer plate 2. Of course, they spend all their energy this way, getting every one all stirred up and heating the wire. Some of the energy which the electrons had when they were on plate 1 is spent, therefore, and there aren't as many electrons getting to plate 2. When they turn around and start back, as you know they do, the same thing happens. The result is that each successive surge of electrons is smaller than the preceding. Their energy is being wasted in heating the wire. The stream of electrons gets smaller and smaller, and the voltage of the condenser gets smaller and smaller, until by-and-by there isn't any stream and the condenser is left uncharged. When that happens, we say the oscillations have "damped out." [Illustration: Fig 48] That's one way of starting oscillations which damp out--to start with a charged condenser and connect an inductance across it. There is another way which leads us to some important ideas. Look at Fig. 48. There is an inductance and a condenser. Near the coil is another coil which has a battery and a key in circuit with it. The coils are our old friends of Fig. 33 in Letter 10. Suppose we close the switch _S_. It starts a current through the coil _ab_ which goes on steadily as soon as it really gets going. While it is starting, however, it induces an electron stream in coil _cd_. There is only a momentary or transient current but it serves to charge the condenser and then events happen just as they did in the case where we charged the condenser with a battery. [Illustration: Fig 49] Now take away this coil _ab_ with its battery and substitute the oscillator of Fig. 36. What's going to happen? We have two circuits in which oscillations can occur. See Fig. 49. One circuit is associated with an audion and some batteries which keep supplying it with energy so that its oscillations are continuous. The other circuit is near enough to the first to be influenced by what happens in that circuit. We say it is "coupled" to it, because whatever happens in the first circuit induces an effect in the second circuit. Suppose first that in each circuit the inductance and capacity have such values as to produce oscillations of the same frequency. Then the moment we start the oscillator we have the same effect in both circuits. Let me draw the picture a little differently (Fig. 50) so that you can see this more easily. I have merely made the coil _ab_ in two parts, one of which can affect _cd_ in the oscillator and the other the coil _L_ of the second circuit. But suppose that the two circuits do not have the same natural frequencies, that is the condenser and inductance in one circuit are so large that it just naturally takes more time for an oscillation in that circuit than in the other. It is like learning to dance. You know about how well you and your partner would get along if you had one frequency of oscillation and she had another. That's what happens in a case like this. [Illustration: Fig 50] If circuit _L-C_ takes longer for each oscillation than does circuit _ab_ its electron stream is always working at cross purposes with the electron stream in _ab_ which is trying to lead it. Its electrons start off from one condenser plate to the other and before they have much more than got started the stream in _ab_ tries to call them back to go in the other direction. It is practically impossible under these conditions to get a stream of any size going in circuit _L-C_. It is equally hard if _L-C_ has smaller capacity and inductance than _ab_ so that it naturally oscillates faster. I'll tell you exactly what it is like. Suppose you and your partner are trying to dance without any piano or other source of music. She has one tune running through her head and she dances to that, except as you drag her around the floor. You are trying to follow another tune. As a couple you have a difficult time going anywhere under these conditions. But it would be all right if you both had the same tune. If we want the electron stream in coil _ab_ to have a large guiding effect on the stream in coil _L-C_ we must see that both circuits have the same tune, that is the same natural frequency of oscillation. [Illustration: Fig 51] This can be shown very easily by a simple experiment. Suppose we set up our circuit _L-C_ with an ammeter in it, so as to be able to tell how large an electron stream is oscillating in that circuit. Let us also make the condenser a variable one so that we can change the natural frequency or tune of the circuit. Now let's see what happens to the current as we vary this condenser, changing the capacity and thus changing the tune of the circuit. If we use a variable plate condenser it will have a scale on top graduated in degrees and we can note the reading of the ammeter for each position of the movable plates. If we do, we find one position of these plates, that is one setting, corresponding to one value of capacity in the condenser, where the current in the circuit is a maximum. This is the setting of the condenser for which the circuit has the same tune or natural frequency as the circuit _cd_. Sometimes we say that the circuits are now in resonance. We also refer to the curve of values of current and condenser positions as a "tuning curve." Such a curve is shown in Fig. 51. [Illustration: Fig 52] That's all there is to tuning--adjusting the capacity and inductance of a circuit until it has the same natural frequency as some other circuit with which we want it to work. We can either adjust the capacity as we just did, or we can adjust the inductance. In that case we use a variable inductance as in Fig. 52. If we want to be able to tune to any of a large range of frequencies we usually have to take out or put into the circuit a whole lot of mil-henries at a time. When we do we get these mil-henries of inductance from a coil which we call a "loading coil." That's why your friends add a loading coil when they want to tune for the long wave-length stations, that is, those with a low frequency. When our circuit _L-C_ of Fig. 49 is tuned to the frequency of the oscillator we get in it a maximum current. There is a maximum stream of electrons, and hence a maximum number of them crowded first into one and then into the other plate of the condenser. And so the condenser is charged to a maximum voltage, first in one direction and then in the other. [Illustration: Fig 53] Now connect the circuit _L-C_ to the grid of an audion. If the circuit is tuned we'll have the maximum possible voltage applied between grid and filament. In the plate circuit we'll get an increase and then a decrease of current. You know that will happen for I prepared you for this moment by the last page of my ninth letter. I'll tell you more about that current in the plate circuit in a later letter. I am connecting a telephone receiver in the plate circuit, and also a condenser, the latter for a reason to be explained later. The combination appears then as in Fig. 53. That figure shows a C-W transmitter and an audion detector. This is the sort of a detector we would use for radio-telephony, but the transmitter is the sort we would use for radio-telegraphy. We shall make some changes in them later. [Illustration: Fig 54] Whenever we start the oscillating current in the transmitter we get an effect in the detector circuit, of which I'll tell you more later. For the moment I am interested in showing you how the transmitter and the detector may be separated by miles and still there will be an effect in the detector circuit every time the key in the transmitter circuit is closed. This is how we do it. At the sending station, that is, wherever we locate the transmitter, we make a condenser using the earth, or ground, as one plate. We do the same thing at the receiving station where the detector circuit is located. To these condensers we connect inductances and these inductances we couple to our transmitter and receiver as shown in Fig. 54. The upper plate of the condenser in each case is a few horizontal wires. The lower plate is the moist earth of the ground and we arrange to get in contact with that in various ways. One of the simplest methods is to connect to the water pipes of the city water-system. Now we have our radio transmitting-station and a station for receiving its signals. You remember we can make dots and dashes by the key or switch in the oscillator circuit. When we depress the key we start the oscillator going. That sets up oscillations in the circuit with the inductance and the capacity formed by the antenna. If we want a real-sized stream of electrons up and down this antenna lead (the vertical wire), we must tune that circuit. That is why I have shown a variable inductance in the circuit of the transmitting antenna. What happens when these electrons surge back and forth between the horizontal wires and the ground, I don't know. I do know, however, that if we tune the antenna circuit at the receiving station there will be a small stream of electrons surging back and forth in that circuit. Usually scientists explain what happens by saying that the transmitting station sends out waves in the ether and that these waves are received by the antenna system at the distant station. Wherever you put up a receiving station you will get the effect. It will be much smaller, however, the farther the two stations are apart. I am not going to tell you anything about wave motion in the ether because I don't believe we know enough about the ether to try to explain, but I shall tell you what we mean by "wave length." Somehow energy, the ability to do work, travels out from the sending antenna in all directions. Wherever you put up your receiving station you get more or less of this energy. Of course, energy is being sent out only while the key is depressed and the oscillator going. This energy travels just as fast as light, that is at the enormous speed of 186,000 miles a second. If you use meters instead of miles the speed is 300,000,000 meters a second. Now, how far will the energy which is sent out from the antenna travel during the time it takes for one oscillation of the current in the antenna? Suppose the current is oscillating one million times a second. Then it takes one-millionth of a second for one oscillation. In that time the energy will have traveled away from the antenna one-millionth part of the distance it will travel in a whole second. That is one-millionth of 300 million meters or 300 meters. The distance which energy will go in the time taken by one oscillation of the source of that energy is the wave length. In the case just given that distance is 300 meters. The wave length, then, of 300 meters corresponds to a frequency of one million. In fact if we divide 300 million meters by the frequency we get the wave length, and that's the same rule as I gave you in the last letter. In further letters I'll tell you how the audion works as a detector and how we connect a telephone transmitter to the oscillator to make it send out energy with a speech significance instead of a mere dot and dash significance, or signal significance. We shall have to learn quite a little about the telephone itself and about the human voice. LETTER 14 WHY AND HOW TO USE A DETECTOR DEAR SON: In the last letter we got far enough to sketch, in Fig. 54, a radio transmitting station and a receiving station. We should never, however, use just this combination because the transmitting station is intended to send telegraph signals and the receiving station is best suited to receiving telephonic transmission. But let us see what happens. [Illustration: Fig 54] When the key in the plate circuit of the audion at the sending station is depressed an alternating current is started. This induces an alternating current in the neighboring antenna circuit. If this antenna circuit, which is formed by a coil and a condenser, is tuned to the frequency of oscillations which are being produced in the audion circuit then there is a maximum current induced in the antenna. As soon as this starts the antenna starts to send out energy in all directions, or "radiate" energy as we say. How this energy, or ability to do work, gets across space we don't know. However it may be, it does get to the receiving station. It only takes a small fraction of a second before the antenna at the receiving station starts to receive energy, because energy travels at the rate of 186,000 miles a second. The energy which is received does its work in making the electrons in that antenna oscillate back and forth. If the receiving antenna is tuned to the frequency which the sending station is producing, then the electrons in the receiving antenna oscillate back and forth most widely and there is a maximum current in this circuit. The oscillations of the electrons in the receiving antenna induce similar oscillations in the tuned circuit which is coupled to it. This circuit also is tuned to the frequency which the distant oscillator is producing and so in it we have the maximum oscillation of the electrons. The condenser in that circuit charges and discharges alternately. The grid of the receiving audion always has the same voltage as the condenser to which it is connected and so it becomes alternately positive and negative. This state of affairs starts almost as soon as the key at the sending station is depressed and continues as long as it is held down. Now what happens inside the audion? As the grid becomes more and more positive the current in the plate circuit increases. When the grid no longer grows more positive but rather becomes less and less positive the current in the plate circuit decreases. As the grid becomes of zero voltage and then negative, that is as the grid "reverses its polarity," the plate current continues to decrease. When the grid stops growing more negative and starts to become less so, the plate current stops decreasing and starts to increase. All this you know, for you have followed through such a cycle of changes before. You know also how we can use the audion characteristic to tell us what sort of changes take place in the plate current when the grid voltage changes. The plate current increases and decreases alternately, becoming greater and less than it would be if the grid were not interfering. These variations in its intensity take place very rapidly, that is with whatever high frequency the sending station operates. What happens to the plate current on the average? The plate current, you remember, is a stream of electrons from the filament to the plate (on the inside of the tube), and from the plate back through the B-battery to the filament (on the outside of the tube). The grid alternately assists and opposes that stream. When it assists, the electrons in the plate circuit are moved at a faster rate. When the grid becomes negative and opposes the plate the stream of electrons is at a slower rate. The stream is always going in the same direction but it varies in its rate depending upon the changes in grid potential. [Illustration: Fig 55] When the grid is positive, that is for half a cycle of the alternating grid-voltage, the stream is larger than it would be if the plate current depended only on the B-battery. For the other half of a cycle it is less. The question I am raising is this: Do more electrons move around the plate circuit if there is a signal coming in than when there is no incoming signal? To answer this we must look at the audion characteristic of our particular tube and this characteristic must have been taken with the same B-battery as we use when we try to receive the signals. There are just three possible answers to this question. The first answer is: "No, there is a smaller number of electrons passing through the plate circuit each second if the grid is being affected by an incoming signal." The second is: "The signal doesn't make any difference in the total number of electrons which move each second from filament to plate." And the third answer is: "Yes, there is a greater total number each second." [Illustration: Fig 56] Any one of the three answers may be right. It all depends on the characteristic of the tube as we are operating it, and that depends not only upon the type and design of tube but also upon what voltages we are using in our batteries. Suppose the variations in the voltage of the grid are as represented in Fig. 55, and that the characteristic of the tube is as shown in the same figure. Then obviously the first answer is correct. You can see for yourself that when the grid becomes positive the current in the plate circuit can't increase much anyway. For the other half of the cycle, that is, while the grid is negative, the current in the plate is very much decreased. The decrease in one half-cycle is larger than the increase during the other half-cycle, so that on the average the current is less when the signal is coming in. The dotted line shows the average current. Suppose that we take the same tube and use a B-battery of lower voltage. The characteristic will have the same shape but there will not be as much current unless the grid helps, so that the characteristic will be like that of Fig. 56. This characteristic crosses the axis of zero volts at a smaller number of mil-amperes than does the other because the B-batteries can't pull as hard as they did in the other case. [Illustration: Fig 57] You can see the result. When the grid becomes positive it helps and increases the plate current. When it becomes negative it opposes and decreases the plate current. But the increase just balances the decrease, so that on the average the current is unchanged, as shown by the dotted line. On the other hand, if we use a still smaller voltage of B-battery we get a characteristic which shows a still smaller current when the grid is at zero potential. For this case, as shown in Fig. 57, the plate current is larger on the average when there is an incoming signal. If we want to know whether or not there is any incoming signal we will not use the tube in the second condition, that of Fig. 56, because it won't tell us anything. On the other hand why use the tube under the first conditions where we need a large plate battery? If we can get the same result, that is an indication when the other station is signalling, by using a small battery let's do it that way for batteries cost money. For that reason we shall confine ourselves to the study of what takes place under the conditions of Fig. 57. We now know that when a signal is being sent by the distant station the current in the plate circuit of our audion at the receiving station is greater, on the average. We are ready to see what effect this has on the telephone receiver. And to do this requires a little study of how the telephone receiver works and why. [Illustration: Fig 58] I shall not stop now to tell you much about the telephone receiver for it deserves a whole letter all to itself. You know that a magnet attracts iron. Suppose you wind a coil of insulated wire around a bar magnet or put the magnet inside such a coil as in Fig. 58. Send a stream of electrons through the turns of the coil--a steady stream such as comes from the battery shown in the figure. The strength of the magnet is altered. For one direction of the electron stream through the coil the magnet is stronger. For the opposite direction of current the magnet will be weaker. [Illustration: Fig 59] Fig. 59 shows a simple design of telephone receiver. It is formed by a bar magnet, a coil about it through which a current can flow, and a thin disc of iron. The iron disc, or diaphragm, is held at its edges so that it cannot move as a whole toward the magnet. The center can move, however, and so the diaphragm is bowed out in the form shown in the smaller sketch. Now connect a battery to the receiver winding and allow a steady stream of electrons to flow. The magnet will be either strengthened or weakened. Suppose the stream of electrons is in the direction to make it stronger--I'll give you the rule later. Then the diaphragm is bowed out still more. If we open the battery circuit and so stop the stream of electrons the diaphragm will fly back to its original position, for it is elastic. The effect is very much that of pushing in the bottom of a tin pan and letting it fly back when you remove your hand. Next reverse the battery. The magnet does not pull as hard as it would if there were no current. The diaphragm is therefore not bowed out so much. Suppose that instead of reversing the current by reversing the battery we arrange to send an alternating current through the coil. That will have the same effect. For one direction of current flow, the diaphragm is attracted still more by the magnet but for the other direction it is not attracted as much. The result is that the center of the diaphragm moves back and forth during one complete cycle of the alternating current in the coil. The diaphragm vibrates back and forth in tune with the alternating current in the receiver winding. As it moves away from the magnet it pushes ahead of it the neighboring molecules of air. These molecules then crowd and push the molecules of air which are just a little further away from the diaphragm. These in turn push against those beyond them and so a push or shove is sent out by the diaphragm from molecule to molecule until perhaps it reaches your ear. When the molecules of air next your ear receive the push they in turn push against your eardrum. In the meantime what has happened? The current in the telephone receiver has reversed its direction. The diaphragm is now pulled toward the magnet and the adjacent molecules of air have even more room than they had before. So they stop crowding each other and follow the diaphragm in the other direction. The molecules of air just beyond these, on the way toward your ear, need crowd no longer and they also move back. Of course, they go even farther than their old positions for there is now more room on the other side. That same thing happens all along the line until the air molecules next your ear start back and give your eardrum a chance to expand outward. As they move away they make a little vacuum there and the eardrum puffs out. That goes on over and over again just as often as the alternating current passes through one cycle of values. And you, unless you are thinking particularly of the scientific explanations, say that you "hear a musical note." As a matter of fact if we increase the frequency of the alternating current you will say that the "pitch" of the note has been increased or that you hear a note higher in the musical scale. If we started with a very low-frequency alternating current, say one of fifteen or twenty cycles per second, you wouldn't say you heard a note at all. You would hear a sort of a rumble. If we should gradually increase the frequency of the alternating current you would find that about sixty or perhaps a hundred cycles a second would give you the impression of a musical note. As the frequency is made still larger you have merely the impression of a higher-pitched note until we get up into the thousands of cycles a second. Then, perhaps about twenty-thousand cycles a second, you find you hear only a little sound like wind or like steam escaping slowly from a jet or through a leak. A few thousand cycles more each second and you don't hear anything at all. You know that for radio-transmitting stations we use audion oscillators which are producing alternating currents with frequencies of several hundred-thousand cycles per second. It certainly wouldn't do any good to connect a telephone receiver in the antenna circuit at the receiving station as in Fig. 60. We couldn't hear so high pitched a note. [Illustration: Fig 60] Even if we could, there are several reasons why the telephone receiver wouldn't work at such high frequencies. The first is that the diaphragm can't be moved so fast. It has some inertia, you know, that is, some unwillingness to get started. If you try to start it in one direction and, before you really get it going, change your mind and try to make it go in the other direction, it simply isn't going to go at all. So even if there is an alternating current in the coil around the magnet there will not be any corresponding vibration of the diaphragm if the frequency is very high, certainly not if it is above about 20,000 cycles a second. The other reason is that there will only be a very feeble current in the coil anyway, no matter what you do, if the frequency is high. You remember that the electrons in a coil are sort of banded together and each has an effect on all the others which can move in parallel paths. The result is that they have a great unwillingness to get started and an equal unwillingness to stop. Their unwillingness is much more than if the wire was long and straight. It is also made very much greater by the presence of the iron core. An alternating e. m. f. of high frequency hardly gets the electrons started at all before it's time to get them going in the opposite direction. There is very little movement to the electrons and hence only a very small current in the coil if the frequency is high. If you want a rule for it you can remember that the higher the frequency of an alternating e. m. f. the smaller the electron stream which it can set oscillating in a given coil. Of course, we might make the e. m. f. stronger, that is pull and shove the electrons harder, but unless the coil has a very small inductance or unless the frequency is very low we should have to use an e. m. f. of enormous strength to get any appreciable current. Condensers are just the other way in their action. If there is a condenser in a circuit, where an alternating e. m. f. is active, there is lots of trouble if the frequency is low. If, however, the frequency is high the same-sized current can be maintained by a smaller e. m. f. than if the frequency is low. You see, when the frequency is high the electrons hardly get into the waiting-room of the condenser before it is time for them to turn around and go toward the other room. Unless there is a large current, there are not enough electrons crowded together in the waiting-room to push back very hard on the next one to be sent along by the e. m. f. Because the electrons do not push back very hard a small e. m. f. can drive them back and forth. Ordinarily we say that a condenser impedes an alternating current less and less the higher is the frequency of the current. And as to inductances, we say that an inductance impedes an alternating current more and more the higher is the frequency. Now we are ready to study the receiving circuit of Fig. 54. I showed you in Fig. 57 how the current through, the tube will vary as time goes on. It increases and decreases with the frequency of the current in the antenna of the distant transmitting station. We have a picture, or graph, as we say, of how this plate current varies. It will be necessary to study that carefully and to resolve it into its components, that is to separate it into parts, which, added together again will give the whole. To show you what I mean I am going to treat first a very simple case involving money. Suppose a boy was started by his father with 50 cents of spending money. He spends that and runs 50 cents in debt. The next day his father gives him a dollar. Half of this he has to spend to pay up his yesterday's indebtedness. This he does at once and that leaves him 50 cents ahead. But again he buys something for a dollar and so runs 50 cents in debt. Day after day this cycle is repeated. We can show what happens by the curve of Fig. 61a. [Illustration: Fig 61a] On the other hand, suppose he already had 60 cents which, he was saving for some special purpose. This he doesn't touch, preferring to run into debt each day and to pay up the next, as shown in Fig. 61a. Then we would represent the story of this 60 cents by the graph of Fig. 61b. [Illustration: Fig 61b] Now suppose that instead of going in debt each day he uses part of this 60 cents. Each day after the first his father gives him a dollar, just as before. He starts then with 60 cents as shown in Fig. 61c, increases in wealth to $1.10, then spends $1.00, bringing his funds down to 10 cents. Then he receives $1.00 from his father and the process is repeated cyclically. [Illustration: Fig 61c] If you saw the graph of Fig. 61c you would be able to say that, whatever he actually did, the effect was the same as if he had two pockets, in one of which he kept 60 cents all the time as shown in Fig. 61b. In his other pocket he either had money or he was in debt as shown in Fig. 61a. If you did that you would be resolving the money changes of Fig. 61c into the two components of Figs. 61a and b. That is what I want you to do with the curve of Fig. 57 which I am reproducing here, redrawn as Fig. 62a. You see it is really the result of adding together the two curves of Figs. 62b and c, which are shown on the following page. [Illustration: Fig 62a] We can think, therefore, of the current in the plate circuit as if it were two currents added together, that is, two electron streams passing through the same wire. One stream is steady and the other alternates. [Illustration: Fig 62b] Now look again at the diagram of our receiving set which I am reproducing as Fig. 63. When the signal is incoming there flow in the plate circuit two streams of electrons, one steady and of a value in mil-amperes corresponding to that of the graph in Fig. 62b, and the other alternating as shown in Fig. 62c. The steady stream of electrons will have no more difficulty in getting through the coiled wire of the receiver than it would through the same amount of straight wire. On the other hand it cannot pass the gap of the condenser. The alternating-current component can't get along in the coil because its frequency is so high that the coil impedes the motion of the electrons so much as practically to stop them. On the other hand these electrons can easily run into the waiting-room offered by the condenser and then run out again as soon as it is time. [Illustration: Fig 62c] When the current in the plate circuit is large all the electrons which aren't needed for the steady stream through the telephone receiver run into one plate of the condenser. Of course, at that same instant an equal number leave the other plate and start off toward the B-battery and the filament. An instant later, when the current in the plate circuit is small, electrons start to come out of the plate and to join the stream through the receiver so that this stream is kept steady. [Illustration: Fig 63] This steady stream of electrons, which is passing through the receiver winding, is larger than it would be if there was no incoming radio signal. The result is a stronger pull on the diaphragm of the receiver. The moment the signal starts this diaphragm is pulled over toward the magnet and it stays pulled over as long as the signal lasts. When the signal ceases it flies back. We would hear then a click when the signal started and another when it stopped. If we wanted to distinguish dots from dashes this wouldn't be at all satisfactory. So in the next letter I'll show you what sort of changes we can make in the apparatus. To understand what effect these changes will have you need, however, to understand pretty well most of this letter. LETTER 15 RADIO-TELEPHONY DEAR LAD: Before we start on the important subject matter of this letter let us make a short review of the preceding two letters. An oscillating audion at the transmitting station produces an effect on the plate current of the detector audion at the receiving station. There is impressed upon the grid of the detector an alternating e. m. f. which has the same frequency as the alternating current which is being produced at the sending station. While this e. m. f. is active, and of course it is active only while the sending key is held down, there is more current through the winding of the telephone receiver and its diaphragm is consequently pulled closer to its magnet. What will happen if the e. m. f. which is active on the grid of the detector is made stronger or weaker? The pull on the receiver diaphragm will be stronger or weaker and the diaphragm will have to move accordingly. If the pull is weaker the elasticity of the iron will move the diaphragm away from the magnet, but if the pull is stronger the diaphragm will be moved toward the magnet. Every time the diaphragm moves it affects the air in the immediate neighborhood of itself and that air in turn affects the air farther away and so the ear of the listener. Therefore if there are changes in the intensity or strength of the incoming signal there are going to be corresponding motions of the receiver diaphragm. And something to listen, too, if these changes are frequent enough but not so frequent that the receiver diaphragm has difficulty in following them. There are many ways of affecting the strength of the incoming signal. Suppose, for example, that we arrange to decrease the current in the antenna of the transmitting station. That will mean a weaker signal and a smaller increase in current through the winding of the telephone receiver at the other station. On the other hand if the signal strength is increased there is more current in this winding. [Illustration: Fig 64] Suppose we connect a fine wire in the antenna circuit as in Fig. 64 and have a sliding contact as shown. Suppose that when we depress the switch in the oscillator circuit and so start the oscillations that the sliding contact is at _o_ as shown. Corresponding to that strength of signal there is a certain value of current through the receiver winding at the other station. Now let us move the slider, first to _a_ and then back to _b_ and so on, back and forth. You see what will happen. We alternately make the current in the antenna larger and smaller than it originally was. When the slider is at _b_ there is more of the fine wire in series with the antenna, hence more resistance to the oscillations of the electrons, and hence a smaller oscillating stream of electrons. That means a weaker outgoing signal. When the slider is at _a_ there is less resistance in the antenna circuit and a larger alternating current. [Illustration: Fig 65] [Illustration: Fig 66] A picture of what happens would be like that of Fig. 65. The signal varies in intensity, therefore, becoming larger and smaller alternately. That means the voltage impressed on the grid of the detector is alternately larger and smaller. And hence the stream of electrons through the winding of the telephone receiver is alternately larger and smaller. And that means that the diaphragm moves back and forth in just the time it takes to move the slider back and forth. Instead of the slider we might use a little cup almost full of grains of carbon. The carbon grains lie between two flat discs of carbon. One of these discs is held fixed. The other is connected to the center of a thin diaphragm of steel and moves back and forth as this diaphragm is moved. The whole thing makes a telephone transmitter such as you have often talked to. [Illustration: Fig 67a] Wires connect to the carbon discs as shown in Fig. 66. A stream of electrons can flow through the wires and from grain to grain through the "carbon button," as we call it. The electrons have less difficulty if the grains are compressed, that is the button then offers less resistance to the flow of current. If the diaphragm moves back, allowing the grains to have more room, the electron stream is smaller and we say the button is offering more resistance to the current. [Illustration: Fig 67b] You can see what happens. Suppose some one talks into the transmitter and makes its diaphragm go back and forth as shown in Fig. 67a. Then the current in the antenna varies, being greater or less, depending upon whether the button offers less or more resistance. The corresponding variations in the antenna current are shown in Fig. 67b. In the antenna at the receiving station there are corresponding variations in the strength of the signal and hence corresponding variations in the strength of the current through the telephone receiver. I shall show graphically what happens in Fig. 68. You see that the telephone receiver diaphragm does just the same motions as does the transmitter diaphragm. That means that the molecules of air near the receiver diaphragm are going through just the same kind of motions as are those near the transmitter diaphragm. When these air molecules affect your eardrum you hear just what you would have heard if you had been right there beside the transmitter. That's one way of making a radio-telephone. It is not a very efficient method but it has been used in the past. Before we look at any of the more recent methods we can draw some general ideas from this method and learn some words that are used almost always in speaking of radio-telephones. In any system of radio-telephony you will always find that there is produced at the transmitting station a high-frequency alternating current and that this current flows in a tuned circuit one part of which is the condenser formed by the antenna and the ground (or something which acts like a ground). This high-frequency current, or radio-current, as we usually say, is varied in its strength. It is varied in conformity with the human voice. If the human voice speaking into the transmitter is low pitched there are slow variations in the intensity of the radio current. If the voice is high pitched there are more rapid variations in the strength of the radio-frequency current. That is why we say the radio-current is "modulated" by the human voice. [Illustration: Fig 68] The signal which radiates out from the transmitting antenna carries all the little variations in pitch and loudness of the human voice. When this signal reaches the distant antenna it establishes in that antenna circuit a current of high frequency which has just the same variations as did the current in the antenna at the sending station. The human voice isn't there. It is not transmitted. It did its work at the sending station by modulating the radio-signal, "modulating the carrier current," as we sometimes say. But there is speech significance hidden in the variations in strength of the received signal. If a telephone-receiver diaphragm can be made to vibrate in accordance with the variations in signal intensity then the air adjacent to that diaphragm will be set into vibration and these vibrations will be just like those which the human voice set up in the air molecules near the mouth of the speaker. All the different systems of receiving radio-telephone signals are merely different methods of getting a current which will affect the telephone receiver in conformity with the variations in signal strength. Getting such a current is called "detecting." There are many different kinds of detectors but the vacuum tube is much to be preferred. The cheapest detector, but not the most sensitive, is the crystal. If you understand how the audion works as a detector you will have no difficulty in understanding the crystal detector. The crystal detector consists of some mineral crystal and a fine-wire point, usually platinum. Crystals are peculiar things. Like everything else they are made of molecules and these molecules of atoms. The atoms are made of electrons grouped around nuclei which, in turn, are formed by close groupings of protons and electrons. The great difference between crystals and substances which are not crystalline, that is, substances which don't have a special natural shape, is this: In crystals the molecules and atoms are all arranged in some orderly manner. In other substances, substances without special form, amorphous substances, as we call them, the molecules are just grouped together in a haphazard way. [Illustration: Fig 69] For some crystals we know very closely indeed how their molecules or rather their individual atoms are arranged. Sometime you may wish to read how this was found out by the use of X-rays.[6] Take the crystal of common salt for example. That is well known. Each molecule of salt is formed by an atom of sodium and one of chlorine. In a crystal of salt the molecules are grouped together so that a sodium atom always has chlorine atoms on every side of it, and the other way around, of course. Suppose you took a lot of wood dumb-bells and painted one of the balls of each dumb-bell black to stand for a sodium atom, leaving the other unpainted to stand for a chlorine atom. Now try to pile them up so that above and below each black ball, to the right and left of it, and also in front and behind it, there shall be a white ball. The pile which you would probably get would look like that of Fig. 69. I have omitted the gripping part of each dumbell because I don't believe it is there. In my picture each circle represents the nucleus of an atom. I haven't attempted to show the planetary electrons. Other crystals have more complex arrangements for piling up their molecules. Now suppose we put two different kinds of substances close together, that is, make contact between them. How their electrons will behave will depend entirely upon what the atoms are and how they are piled up. Some very curious effects can be obtained. [Illustration: Fig 70] The one which interests us at present is that across the contact points of some combinations of substances it is easier to get a stream of electrons to flow one way than the other. The contact doesn't have the same resistance in the two directions. Usually also the resistance depends upon what voltage we are applying to force the electron stream across the point of contact. The one way to find out is to take the voltage-current characteristic of the combination. To do so we use the same general method as we did for the audion. And when we get through we plot another curve and call it, for example, a "platinum-galena characteristic." Fig. 70 shows the set-up for making the measurements. There is a group of batteries arranged so that we can vary the e. m. f. applied across the contact point of the crystal and platinum. A voltmeter shows the value of this e. m. f. and an ammeter tells the strength of the electron stream. Each time we move the slider we get a new pair of values for volts and amperes. As a matter of fact we don't get amperes or even mil-amperes; we get millionths of an ampere or "microamperes," as we say. We can plot the pairs of values which we measure and make a curve like that of Fig. 71. [Illustration: Fig 71] When the voltage across the contact is reversed, of course, the current reverses. Part of the curve looks something like the lower part of an audion characteristic. [Illustration: Fig 72] Now connect this crystal in a receiving circuit as in Fig. 72. We use an antenna just as we did for the audion and we tune the antenna circuit to the frequency of the incoming signal. The receiving circuit is coupled to the antenna circuit and is tuned to the same frequency. Whatever voltage there may be across the condenser of this circuit is applied to the crystal detector. We haven't put the telephone receiver in the circuit yet. I want to wait until you have seen what the crystal does when an alternating voltage is applied to it. [Illustration: Fig 73] We can draw a familiar form of sketch as in Fig. 73 to show how the current in the crystal varies. You see that there flows through the crystal a current very much like that of Fig. 62a. And you know that such a current is really equivalent to two electron streams, one steady and the other alternating. The crystal detector gives us much the same sort of a current as does the vacuum tube detector of Fig. 54. The current isn't anywhere near as large, however, for it is microamperes instead of mil-amperes. Our crystal detector produces the same results so far as giving us a steady component of current to send through a telephone receiver. So we can connect a receiver in series with the crystal as shown in Fig. 74. Because the receiver would offer a large impedance to the high-frequency current, that is, seriously impede and so reduce the high-frequency current, we connect a condenser around the receiver. [Illustration: Fig 74] There is a simple crystal detector circuit. If the signal intensity varies then the current which passes through the receiver will vary. If these variations are caused by a human voice at the sending station the crystal will permit one to hear from the telephone receiver what the speaker is saying. That is just what the audion detector does very many times better. In the letter on how to experiment you'll find details as to the construction of a crystal-detector set. Excellent instructions for an inexpensive set are contained in Bull. No. 120 of the Bureau of Standards. A copy can be obtained by sending ten cents to the Commissioner of Public Documents, Washington, D. C. [Footnote 6: Cf. "Within the Atom," Chapter X.] LETTER 16 THE HUMAN VOICE DEAR SIR: The radio-telephone does not transmit the human voice. It reproduces near the ears of the listener similar motions of the air molecules and hence causes in the ears of the listener the same sensations of sound as if he were listening directly to the speaker. This reproduction takes place almost instantaneously so great is the speed with which the electrical effects travel outward from the sending antenna. If you wish to understand radio-telephony you must know something of the mechanism by which the voice is produced and something of the peculiar or characteristic properties of voice sounds. [Illustration: Fig 75] The human voice is produced by a sort of organ pipe. Imagine a long pipe connected at one end to a pair of fire-bellows, and closed at the other end by two stretched sheets of rubber. Fig. 75 is a sketch of what I mean. Corresponding to the bellows there is the human diaphragm, the muscular membrane separating the thorax and abdomen, which expands or contracts as one breathes. Corresponding to the pipe is the windpipe. Corresponding to the two stretched pieces of rubber are the vocal cords, L and R, shown in cross section in Fig. 77. They are part of the larynx and do not show in Fig. 76 (Pl. viii) which shows the wind pipe and an outside view of the larynx. [Illustration: Fig 77] When the sides of the bellows are squeezed together the air molecules within are crowded closer together and the air is compressed. The greater the compression the greater, of course, is the pressure with which the enclosed air seeks to escape. That it can do only by lifting up, that is by blowing out, the two elastic strips which close the end of the pipe. The air pressure, therefore, rises until it is sufficient to push aside the elastic membranes or vocal cords and thus to permit some of the air to escape. It doesn't force the membranes far apart, just enough to let some air out. But the moment some air has escaped there isn't so much inside and the pressure is reduced just as in the case of an automobile tire from which you let the air escape. What is the result? The membranes fly back again and close the opening of the pipe. What got out, then, was just a little puff of air. The bellows are working all the while, however, and so the space available for the remaining air soon again becomes so crowded with air molecules that the pressure is again sufficient to open the membranes. Another puff of air escapes. This happens over and over again while one is speaking or singing. Hundreds of times a second the vocal cords vibrate back and forth. The frequency with which they do so determines the note or pitch of the speaker's voice. What determines the significance of the sounds which he utters? This is a most interesting question and one deserving of much more time than I propose to devote to it. To give you enough of an answer for your study of radio-telephony I am going to tell you first about vibrating strings for they are easier to picture than membranes like the vocal cords. Suppose you have a stretched string, a piece of rubber band or a wire will do. You pluck it, that is pull it to one side. When you let go it flies back. Because it has inertia[7] it doesn't stop when it gets to its old position but goes on through until it bows out almost as far on the other side. [Illustration: Pl. VII.--Photographs of Vibrating Strings.] It took some work to pluck this string, not much perhaps; but all the work which you did in deforming it, goes to the string and becomes its energy, its ability to do work. This work it does in pushing the air molecules ahead of it as it vibrates. In this way it uses up its energy and so finally comes again to rest. Its vibrations "damp out," as we say, that is die down. Each swing carries it a smaller distance away from its original position. We say that the "amplitude," meaning the size, of its vibration decreases. The frequency does not. It takes just as long for a small-sized vibration as for the larger. Of course, for the vibration of large amplitude the string must move faster but it has to move farther so that the time required for a vibration is not changed. First the string crowds against each other the air molecules which are in its way and so leads to crowding further away, just as fast as these molecules can pass along the shove they are receiving. That takes place at the rate of about 1100 feet a second. When the string swings back it pushes away the molecules which are behind it and so lets those that were being crowded follow it. You know that they will. Air molecules will always go where there is the least crowding. Following the shove, therefore, there is a chance for the molecules to move back and even to occupy more room than they had originally. The news of this travels out from the string just as fast as did the news of the crowding. As fast as molecules are able they move back and so make more room for their neighbors who are farther away; and these in turn move back. Do you want a picture of it? Imagine a great crowd of people and at the center some one with authority. The crowd is the molecules of air and the one with authority is one of the molecules of the string which has energy. Whatever this molecule of the string says is repeated by each member of the crowd to his neighbor next farther away. First the string says: "Go back" and each molecule acts as soon as he gets the word. And then the string says: "Come on" and each molecule of air obeys as soon as the command reaches him. Over and over this happens, as many times a second as the string makes complete vibrations. [Illustration: Fig 78] If we should make a picture of the various positions of one of these air molecules much as we pictured "Brownie" in Letter 9 it would appear as in Fig. 78a where the central line represents the ordinary position of the molecule. That's exactly the picture also of the successive positions of an electron in a circuit which is "carrying an alternating current." First it moves in one direction along the wire and then back in the opposite direction. The electron next to it does the same thing almost immediately for it does not take anywhere near as long for such an effect to pass through a crowd of electrons. If we make the string vibrate twice as fast, that is, have twice the frequency, the story of an adjacent particle of air will be as in Fig. 78b. Unless we tighten the string, however, we can't make it vibrate as a whole and do it twice as fast. We can make it vibrate in two parts or even in more parts, as shown in Fig. 79 of Pl. VII. When it vibrates as a whole, its frequency is the lowest possible, the fundamental frequency as we say. When it vibrates in two parts each part of the string makes twice as many vibrations each second. So do the adjacent molecules of air and so does the eardrum of a listener. The result is that the listener hears a note of twice the frequency that he did when the string was vibrating as a whole. He says he hears the "octave" of the note he heard first. If the string vibrates in three parts and gives a note of three times the frequency the listener hears a note two octaves above the "fundamental note" of which the string is capable. It is entirely possible, however, for a string to vibrate simultaneously in a number of ways and so to give not only its fundamental note but several others at the same time. The photographs[8] of Fig. 80 of Pl. VII illustrate this possibility. What happens then to the molecules of air which are adjacent to the vibrating string? They must perform quite complex vibrations for they are called upon to move back and forth just as if there were several strings all trying to push them with different frequencies of vibration. Look again at the pictures, of Fig. 80 and see that each might just as well be the picture of several strings placed close together, each vibrating in a different way. Each of the strings has a different frequency of vibration and a different maximum amplitude, that is, greatest size of swing away from its straight position. [Illustration: Fig 81] Suppose instead of a single string acting upon the adjacent molecules we had three strings. Suppose the first would make a nearby molecule move as in Fig. 81A, the second as in Fig. 81B, and the third as in Fig. 81C. It is quite evident that the molecule can satisfy all three if it will vibrate as in Fig. 81D. Now take it the other way around. Suppose we had a picture of the motion of a molecule and that it was not simple like those shown in Fig. 78 but was complex like that of Fig. 81D. We could say that this complex motion was made up of three parts, that is, had three component simple motions, each represented by one of the three other graphs of Fig. 81. That means we can resolve any complex vibratory motion into component motions which are simple. It means more than that. It means that the vibrating string which makes the neighboring molecules of air behave as shown in Fig. 81D is really acting like three strings and is producing simultaneously three pure musical notes. Now suppose we had two different strings, say a piano string in the piano and a violin string on its proper mounting. Suppose we played both instruments and some musician told us they were in tune. What would he mean? He would mean that both strings vibrated with the same fundamental frequency. They differ, however, in the other notes which they produce at the same time that they produce their fundamental notes. That is, they differ in the frequencies and amplitudes of these other component vibrations or "overtones" which are going on at the same time as their fundamental vibrations. It is this difference which lets us tell at once which instrument is being played. That brings us to the main idea about musical sounds and about human speech. The pitch of any complex sound is the pitch of its fundamental or lowest sound; but the character of the complex sound depends upon all the overtones or "harmonics" which are being produced and upon their relative frequencies and amplitudes. [Illustration: Fig 82] The organ pipe which ends in the larynx produces a very complex sound. I can't show you how complex but I'll show you in Fig. 82 the complicated motion of an air molecule which is vibrating as the result of being near an organ pipe. (Organ pipes differ--this is only one case.) You can see that there are a large number of pure notes of various intensities, that is, strengths, which go to make up the sound which a listener to this organ pipe would hear. The note from the human pipe is much more complex. When one speaks there are little puffs of air escaping from his larynx. The vocal cords vibrate as I explained. And the molecules of air near the larynx are set into very complex vibrations. These transmit their vibrations to other molecules until those in the mouth are reached. In the mouth, however, something very important happens. Did you ever sing or howl down a rain barrel or into a long pipe or hallway and hear the sound? It sounds just about the same no matter who does it. The reason is that the long column of air in the pipe or barrel is set into vibration and vibrates according to its own ideas of how fast to do it. It has a "natural frequency" of its own. If in your voice there is a note of just that frequency it will respond beautifully. In fact it "resonates," or sings back, when it hears this note. The net result is that it emphasizes this note so much that you don't hear any of the other component notes of your voice--all you hear is the rain barrel. We say it reinforces one of the component notes of your voice and makes it louder. That same thing happens in the mouth cavity of a speaker. The size and shape of the column of air in the mouth can be varied by the tongue and lip positions and so there are many different possibilities of resonance. Depending on lip and tongue, different frequencies of the complex sound which comes from the larynx are reinforced. You can see that for yourself from Fig. 83 which shows the tongue positions for three different vowel sounds. You can see also from Fig. 84, which shows the mouth positions for the different vowels, how the size and shape of the mouth cavity is changed to give different sounds. These figures are in Pl. VIII. The pitch of the note need not change as every singer knows. You can try that also for yourself by singing the vowel sound of "ahh" and then changing the shape of your mouth so as to give the sound "ah--aw--ow--ou." The pitch of the note will not change because the fundamental stays the same. The speech significance of the sound, however, changes completely because the mouth cavity resonates to different ones of the higher notes which come from the larynx along with the fundamental note. Now you can see what is necessary for telephonic transmission. Each and every component note which enters into human speech must be transmitted and accurately reproduced by the receiver. More than that, all the proportions must be kept just the same as in the original spoken sound. We usually say that there must be reproduced in the air at the receiver exactly the same "wave form" as is present in the air at the transmitter. If that isn't done the speech won't be natural and one cannot recognize voices although he may understand pretty well. If there is too much "distortion" of the wave form, that is if the relative intensities of the component notes of the voice are too much altered, then there may even be a loss of intelligibility so that the listener cannot understand what is being said. What particular notes are in the human voice depends partly on the person who is speaking. You know that the fundamental of a bass voice is lower than that of a soprano. Besides the fundamental, however, there are a lot of higher notes always present. This is particularly true when the spoken sound is a consonant, like "s" or "f" or "v." The particular notes, which are present and are important, depend upon what sound one is saying. Usually, however, we find that if we can transmit and reproduce exactly all the notes which lie between a frequency of about 200 cycles a second and one of about 2000 cycles a second the reproduced speech will be quite natural and very intelligible. For singing and for transmitting instrumental music it is necessary to transmit and reproduce still higher notes. What you will have to look out for, therefore, in a receiving set is that it does not cut out some of the high notes which are necessary to give the sound its naturalness. You will also have to make sure that your apparatus does not distort, that is, does not receive and reproduce some notes or "voice frequencies" more efficiently than it does some others which are equally necessary. For that reason when you buy a transformer or a telephone receiver it is well to ask for a characteristic curve of the apparatus which will show how the action varies as the frequency of the current is varied. The action or response should, of course, be practically the same at all the frequencies within the necessary part of the voice range. [Footnote 7: Cf. Chap. VI of "The Realities of Modern Science."] [Footnote 8: My thanks are due to Professor D. C. Miller and to the Macmillan Company for permission to reproduce Figs. 79 to 83 inclusive from that interesting book, "The Science of Musical Sounds."] LETTER 17 GRID BATTERIES AND GRID CONDENSERS FOR DETECTORS DEAR SON: You remember the audion characteristics which I used in Figs. 55, 56 and 57 of Letter 14 to show you how an incoming signal will affect the current in the plate circuit. Look again at these figures and you will see that these characteristics all had the same general shape but that they differed in their positions with reference to the "main streets" of "zero volts" on the grid and "zero mil-amperes" in the plate circuit. Changing the voltage of the B-battery in the plate circuit changed the position of the characteristic. We might say that changing the B-battery shifted the curve with reference to the axis of zero volts on the grid. [Illustration: Fig 56] [Illustration: Fig 63] In the case of the three characteristics which we are discussing the shift was made by changing the B-battery. Increasing B-voltage shifts characteristic to the left. It is possible, however, to produce such a shift by using a C-battery, that is, a battery in the grid circuit, which makes the grid permanently negative (or positive, depending upon how it is connected). This battery either helps or hinders the plate battery, and because of the strategic position of the grid right near the filament one volt applied to the grid produces as large an effect as would several volts in the plate battery. Usually, therefore, we arrange to shift the characteristic by using a C-battery. [Illustration: Fig 85] Suppose for example that we had an audion in the receiving circuit of Fig. 63 and that its characteristic under these conditions is given by Fig. 56. I've redrawn the figures to save your turning back. The audion will not act as a detector because an incoming signal will not change the average value of the current in the plate circuit. If, however, we connect a C-battery so as to make the grid negative, we can shift this characteristic so that the incoming signal will be detected. We have only to make the grid sufficiently negative to reduce the plate current to the value shown by the line _oa_ in Fig. 85. Then the signal will be detected because, while it makes the plate current alternately larger and smaller than this value _oa_, it will result, on the average, in a higher value of the plate current. [Illustration: Fig 86] You see that what we have done is to arrange the point on the audion characteristic about which the tube is to work by properly choosing the value of the grid voltage _E_{C}_. There is an important method of using an audion for a detector where we arrange to have the grid voltage change steadily, getting more and more negative all the time the signal is coming in. Before I tell how it is done I want to show you what will happen. Suppose we start with an audion detector, for which the characteristic is that of Fig. 56, but arranged as in Fig. 86 to give the grid any potential which we wish. The batteries and slide wire resistance which are connected in the grid circuit are already familiar to you. When the slider is set as shown in Fig. 86 the grid is at zero potential and we are at the point 1 of the characteristic shown in Fig. 87. Now imagine an incoming signal, as shown in that same figure, but suppose that as soon as the signal has stopped making the grid positive we shift the slider a little so that the C-battery makes the grid slightly negative. We have shifted the point on the characteristic about which the tube is being worked by the incoming signal from point 1 to point 2. [Illustration: Fig 87] Every time the incoming signal makes one complete cycle of changes we shift the slider a little further and make the grid permanently more negative. You can see what happens. As the grid becomes more negative the current in the plate circuit decreases on the average. Finally, of course, the grid will become so negative that the current in the plate circuit will be reduced to zero. Under these conditions an incoming signal finally makes a large change in the plate current and hence in the current through the telephone. The method of shifting a slider along, every time the incoming signal makes a complete cycle, is impossible to accomplish by hand if the frequency of the signal is high. It can be done automatically, however, no matter how high the frequency if we use a condenser in the grid circuit as shown in Fig. 88. [Illustration: Fig 88] When the incoming signal starts a stream of electrons through the coil _L_ of Fig. 88 and draws them away from plate 1 of the condenser _C_ it is also drawing electrons away from the 1 plate of the condenser _C_{g}_ which is in series with the grid. As electrons leave plate 1 of this condenser others rush away from the grid and enter plate 2. This means that the grid doesn't have its ordinary number of electrons and so is positive. If the grid is positive it will be pleased to get electrons; and it can do so at once, for there are lots of electrons streaming past it on their way to the plate. While the grid is positive, therefore, there is a stream of electrons to it from the filament. Fig. 89 shows this current. All this takes place during the first half-cycle of the incoming signal. During the next half-cycle electrons are sent into plate 1 of the condenser _C_ and also into plate 1 of the grid condenser _C_{g}_. As electrons are forced into plate 1 of the grid condenser those in plate 2 of that condenser have to leave and go back to the grid where they came from. That is all right, but while they were away the grid got some electrons from the filament to take their places. The result is that the grid has now too many electrons, that is, it is negatively charged. [Illustration: Fig 89] An instant later the signal e. m. f. reverses and calls electrons away from plate 1 of the grid condenser. Again electrons from the grid rush into plate 2 and again the grid is left without its proper number and so is positive. Again it receives electrons from the filament. The result is still more electrons in the part of the grid circuit which is formed by the grid, the plate 2 of the grid condenser and the connecting wire. These electrons can't get across the gap of the condenser _C_{g}_ and they can't go back to the filament any other way. So there they are, trapped. Finally there are so many of these trapped electrons that the grid is so negative all the time as almost entirely to oppose the efforts of the plate to draw electrons away from the filament. [Illustration: Pl. VIII.--To Illustrate the Mechanism for the Production of the Human Voice.] Then the plate current is reduced practically to zero. That's the way to arrange an audion so that the incoming signal makes the largest possible change in plate current. We can tell if there is an incoming signal because it will "block" the tube, as we say. The plate-circuit current will be changed from its ordinary value to almost zero in the short time it takes for a few cycles of the incoming signal. We can detect one signal that way, but only one because the first signal makes the grid permanently negative and blocks the tube so that there isn't any current in the plate circuit and can't be any. If we want to put the tube in condition to receive another signal we must allow these electrons, which originally came from the filament, to get out of their trapped position and go back to the filament. [Illustration: Fig 90] To do so we connect a very fine wire between plates 1 and 2 of the grid condenser. We call that wire a "grid-condenser leak" because it lets the electrons slip around past the gap. By using a very high resistance, we can make it so hard for the electrons to get around the gap that not many will do so while the signal is coming in. In that case we can leave the leak permanently across the condenser as shown in Fig. 90. Of course, the leak must offer so easy a path for the electrons that all the trapped electrons can get home between one incoming signal and the next. One way of making a high resistance like this is to draw a heavy pencil line on a piece of paper, or better a line with India ink, that is ink made of fine ground particles of carbon. The leak should have a very high resistance, usually one or two million ohms if the condenser is about 0.002 microfarad. If it has a million ohms we say it has a "megohm" of resistance. This method of detecting with a leaky grid-condenser and an audion is very efficient so far as telling the listener whether or not a signal is coming into his set. It is widely used in receiving radio-telephone signals although it is best adapted to receiving the telegraph signals from a spark set. I don't propose to stop to tell you how a spark-set transmitter works. It is sufficient to say that when the key is depressed the set sends out radio signals at the rate usually of 1000 signals a second. Every time a signal reaches the receiving station the current in the telephone receiver is sudden reduced; and in the time between signals the leak across the grid condenser brings the tube back to a condition where it can receive the next signal. While the sending key is depressed the current in the receiver is decreasing and increasing once for every signal which is being transmitted. For each decrease and increase in current the diaphragm of the telephone receiver makes one vibration. What the listener then hears is a musical note with a frequency corresponding to that number of vibrations a second, that is, a note with a frequency of one thousand cycles per second. He hears a note of frequency about that of two octaves above middle _C_ on the piano. There are usually other notes present at the same time and the sound is not like that of any musical instrument. [Illustration: Fig 91] If the key is held down a long time for a dash the listener hears this note for a corresponding time. If it is depressed only about a third of that time so as to send a dot, the listener hears the note for a shorter time and interprets it to mean a dot. In Fig. 91 I have drawn a sketch to show the e. m. f. which the signals from a spark set impress on the grid of a detector and to show how the plate current varies if there is a condenser and leak in the grid circuit. I have only shown three signals in succession. If the operator sends at the rate of about twenty words a minute a dot is formed by about sixty of these signals in succession. The frequency of the alternations in one of the little signals will depend upon the wave length which the sending operator is using. If he uses the wave length of 600 meters, as ship stations do, he will send with a radio frequency of 500,000 cycles a second. Since the signals are at the rate of a thousand a second each one is made up of 500 complete cycles of the current in the antenna. It would be impracticable therefore to show you a complete picture of the signal from a spark set. I have, however, lettered the figure quite completely to cover what I have just told you. If the grid-condenser and its leak are so chosen as to work well for signals from a 500-cycle spark set they will also work well for the notes in human speech which are about 1000 cycles a second in frequency. The detecting circuit will not, however, work so well for the other notes which are in the human voice and are necessary to speech. For example, if notes of about 2000 cycles a second are involved in the speech which is being transmitted, the leak across the condenser will not work fast enough. On the other hand, for the very lowest notes in the voice the leak will work too fast and such variations in the signal current will not be detected as efficiently as are those of 1000 cycles a second. You can see that there is always a little favoritism on the part of the grid-condenser detector. It doesn't exactly reproduce the variations in intensity of the radio signal which were made at the sending station. It distorts a little. As amateurs we usually forgive it that distortion because it is so efficient. It makes so large a change in the current through the telephone when it receives a signal that we can use it to receive much weaker signals, that is, signals from smaller or more distant sending stations, than we can receive with the arrangement described in Letter 14. LETTER 18 AMPLIFIERS AND THE REGENERATIVE CIRCUIT MY DEAR RECEIVER: There is one way of making an audion even more efficient as a detector than the method described in the last letter. And that is to make it talk to itself. Suppose we arrange a receiving circuit as in Fig. 92. It is exactly like that of Fig. 90 of the previous letter except for the fact that the current in the plate circuit passes through a little coil, _L_{t}_, which is placed near the coil _L_ and so can induce in it an e. m. f. which will correspond in intensity and wave form to the current in the plate circuit. If we should take out the grid condenser and its leak this circuit would be like that of Fig. 54 in Letter 13 which we used for a generator of high-frequency alternating currents. You remember how that circuit operates. A small effect in the grid circuit produces a large effect in the plate circuit. Because the plate circuit is coupled to the grid circuit the grid is again affected and so there is a still larger effect in the plate circuit. And so on, until the current in the plate circuit is swinging from zero to its maximum possible value. What happens depends upon how closely the coils _L_ and _L_{t}_ are coupled, that is, upon how much the changing current in one can affect the other. If they are turned at right angles to each other, so that there is no possible mutual effect we say there is "zero coupling." Start with the coils at right angles to each other and turn _L_{t}_ so as to bring its windings more and more parallel to those of _L_. If we want _L_{t}_ to have a large effect on _L_ its windings should be parallel and also in the same direction just as they were in Fig. 54 of Letter 13 to which we just referred. As we approach nearer to that position the current in _L_{t}_ induces more and more e. m. f. in coil _L_. For some position of the two coils, and the actual position depends on the tube we are using, there will be enough effect from the plate circuit upon the grid circuit so that there will be continuous oscillations. [Illustration: Fig 92] We want to stop just short of this position. There will then be no continuous oscillations; but if any changes do take place in the plate current they will affect the grid. And these changes in the grid voltage will result in still larger changes in the plate current. Now suppose that there is coming into the detector circuit of Fig. 92 a radio signal with, speech significance. The current in the plate circuit varies accordingly. So does the current in coil _L_{t}_ which is in the plate circuit. But this current induces an e. m. f. in coil _L_ and this adds to the e. m. f. of the incoming signal so as to make a greater variation in the plate current. This goes on as long as there is an incoming signal. Because the plate circuit is coupled to the grid circuit the result is a larger e. m. f. in the grid circuit than the incoming signal could set up all by itself. You see now why I said the tube talked to itself. It repeats to itself whatever it receives. It has a greater strength of signal to detect than if it didn't repeat. Of course, it detects also just as I told you in the preceding letter. In adjusting the coupling of the two coils of Fig. 92 we stopped short of allowing the tube circuit to oscillate and to generate a high frequency. If we had gone on increasing the coupling we should have reached a position where steady oscillations would begin. Usually this is marked by a little click in the receiver. The reason is that when the tube oscillates the average current in the plate circuit is not the same as the steady current which ordinarily flows between filament and plate. There is a sudden change, therefore, in the average current in the plate circuit when the tube starts to oscillate. You remember that what affects the receiver is the average current in the plate circuit. So the receiver diaphragm suddenly changes position as the tube starts to oscillate and a listener hears a little click. The frequency of the alternating current which the tube produces depends upon the tuned circuit formed by _L_ and _C_. Suppose that this frequency is not the same as that to which the receiving antenna is tuned. What will happen? There will be impressed on the grid of the tube two alternating e. m. f.'s, one due to the tube's own oscillations and the other incoming from the distant transmitting station. The two e. m. f. 's are both active at once so that at each instant the e. m. f. of the grid is really the sum of these two e. m. f.'s. Suppose at some instant both e. m. f.'s are acting to make the grid positive. A little later one of them will be trying to make the grid negative while the other is still trying to make it positive. And later still when the first e. m. f. is ready again to make the grid positive the second will be trying to make it negative. It's like two men walking along together but with different lengths of step. Even if they start together with their left feet they are soon so completely out of step that one is putting down his right foot while the other is putting down his left. A little later, but just for an instant, they are in step again. And so it goes. They are in step for a moment and then completely out of step. Suppose one of them makes ten steps in the time that the other makes nine. In that time they will be once in step and once completely out of step. If one makes ten steps while the other does eight this will happen twice. The same thing happens in the audion detector circuit when two e. m. f.'s which differ slightly in frequency are simultaneously impressed on the grid. If one e. m. f. passes through ten complete cycles while the other is making eight cycles, then during that time they will twice be exactly in step, that is, "in phase" as we say. Twice in that time they will be exactly out of step, that is, exactly "opposite in phase." Twice in that time the two e. m. f.'s will aid each other in their effects on the grid and twice they will exactly oppose. Unless they are equal in amplitude there will still be a net e. m. f. even when they are exactly opposed. The result of all this is that the average current in the plate circuit of the detector will alternately increase and decrease twice during this time. The listener will then hear a note of a frequency equal to the difference between the frequencies of the two e. m. f.'s which are being simultaneously impressed on the grid of the detector. Suppose the incoming signal has a frequency of 100,000 cycles a second but that the detector tube is oscillating in its own circuit at the rate of 99,000 cycles per second, then the listener will hear a note of 1000 cycles per second. One thousand times each second the two e. m. f.'s will be exactly in phase and one thousand times each second they will be exactly opposite in phase. The voltage applied to the grid will be a maximum one thousand times a second and alternately a minimum. We can think of it, then, as if there were impressed on the grid of the detector a high-frequency signal which varied in intensity one thousand times a second. This we know will produce a corresponding variation in the current through the telephone receiver and thus give rise to a musical note of about two octaves above middle _C_ on the piano. This circuit of Fig. 92 will let us detect signals which are not varying in intensity. And consequently this is the method which we use to detect the telegraph signals which are sent out by such a "continuous wave transmitter" as I showed you at the end of Letter 13. When the key of a C-W transmitter is depressed there is set up in the distant receiving-antenna an alternating current. This current doesn't vary in strength. It is there as long as the sender has his key down. Because, however, of the effect which I described above there will be an audible note from the telephone receiver if the detector tube is oscillating at a frequency within two or three thousand cycles of that of the transmitting station. This method of receiving continuous wave signals is called the "heterodyne" method. The name comes from two Greek words, "dyne" meaning "force" and the other part meaning "different." We receive by combining two different electron-moving-forces, one produced by the distant sending-station and the other produced locally at the receiving station. Neither by itself will produce any sound, except a click when it starts. Both together produce a musical sound in the telephone receiver; and the frequency of that note is the difference of the two frequencies. There are a number of words used to describe this circuit with some of which you should be familiar. It is sometimes called a "feed-back" circuit because part of the output of the audion is fed back into its input side. More generally it is known as the "regenerative circuit" because the tube keeps on generating an alternating current. The little coil which is used to feed back into the grid circuit some of the effects from the plate circuit is sometimes called a "tickler" coil. It is not necessary to use a grid condenser in a feed-back circuit but it is perhaps the usual method of detecting where the regenerative circuit is used. The whole value of the regenerative circuit so far as receiving is concerned is in the high efficiency which it permits. One tube can do the work of two. We can get just as loud signals by using another tube instead of making one do all the work. In the regenerative circuit the tube is performing two jobs at once. It is detecting but it is also amplifying.[9] By "amplifying" we mean making an e. m. f. larger than it is without changing the shape of its picture, that is without changing its "wave form." To show just what we mean by amplifying we must look again at the audion and see how it acts. You know that a change in the grid potential makes a change in the plate current. Let us arrange an audion in a circuit which will tell us a little more of what happens. Fig. 93 shows the circuit. This circuit is the same as we used to find the audion characteristic except that there is a clip for varying the number of batteries in the plate circuit and a voltmeter for measuring their e. m. f. We start with the grid at zero potential and the usual number of batteries in the plate circuit. The voltmeter tells us the e. m. f. We read the ammeter in the plate circuit and note what that current is. Then we shift the slider in the grid circuit so as to give the grid a small potential. The current in the plate circuit changes. We can now move the clip on the B-batteries so as to bring the current in this circuit back to its original value. Of course, if we make the grid positive we move the clip so as to use fewer cells of the B-battery. On the other hand if we make the grid negative we shall need more e. m. f. in the plate circuit. In either case we shall find that we need to make a very much larger change in the voltage of the plate circuit than we have made in the voltage of the grid circuit. [Illustration: Fig 93] Usually we perform the experiment a little differently so as to get more accurate results. We read the voltmeter in the plate circuit and the ammeter in that circuit. Then we change the number of batteries which we are using in the plate circuit. That changes the plate current. The next step is to shift the slider in the grid circuit until we have again the original value of current in the plate circuit. Suppose that the tube is ordinarily run with a plate voltage of 40 volts and we start with that e. m. f. on the plate. Suppose that we now make it 50 volts and then vary the position of the slider in the grid circuit until the ammeter reads as it did at the start. Next we read the voltage impressed on the grid by reading the voltmeter in the grid circuit. Suppose it reads 2 volts. What does that mean? [Illustration: Fig 94] It means that two volts in the grid circuit have the same effect on the plate current as ten volts in the plate circuit. If we apply a volt to the grid circuit we get five times as large an effect in the plate circuit as we would if the volt were applied there. We get a greater effect, the effect of more volts, by applying our voltage to the grid. We say that the tube acts as an "amplifier of voltage" because we can get a larger effect than the number of volts which we apply would ordinarily entitle us to. Now let's take a simple case of the use of an audion as an amplifier. Suppose we have a receiving circuit with which we find that the signals are not easily understood because they are too weak. Let this be the receiving circuit of Fig. 88 which I am reproducing here as part of Fig. 94. We have replaced the telephone receiver by a "transformer." A transformer is two coils, or windings, coupled together. An alternating current in one will give rise to an alternating current in the other. You are already familiar with the idea but this is our first use of the word. Usually we call the first coil, that is the one through which the alternating current flows, the "primary" and the second coil, in which a current is induced, the "secondary." The secondary of this transformer is connected to the grid circuit of another vacuum tube, to the plate circuit of which is connected another transformer and the telephone receiver. The result is a detector and "one stage of amplification." The primary of the first transformer, so we shall suppose, has in it the same current as would have been in the telephone. This alternating current induces in the secondary an e. m. f. which has the same variations as this current. This e. m. f. acts on the grid of the second tube, that is on the amplifier. Because the audion amplifies, the e. m. f. acting on the telephone receiver is larger than it would have been without the use of this audion. And hence there is a greater response on the part of its diaphragm and a louder sound. In setting up such a circuit as this there are several things to watch. For some of these you will have to rely on the dealer from whom you buy your supplies and for the others upon yourself. But it will take another letter to tell you of the proper precautions in using an audion as an amplifier. [Illustration: Fig 95] In the circuit which I have just described an audion is used to amplify the current which comes from the detector before it reaches the telephone receiver. Sometimes we use an audion to amplify the e. m. f. of the signal before impressing it upon the grid of the detector. Fig. 95 shows a circuit for doing that. In the case of Fig. 94 we are amplifying the audio-frequency current. In that of Fig. 95 it is the radio-frequency effect which is amplified. The feed-back or regenerative circuit of Fig. 92 is a one-tube circuit for doing the same thing as is done with two tubes in Fig 95. [Footnote 9: There is always some amplification taking place in an audion detector but the regenerative circuit amplifies over and over again until the signal is as large as the tube can detect.] LETTER 19 THE AUDION AMPLIFIER AND ITS CONNECTIONS DEAR SON: In our use of the audion we form three circuits. The first or A-circuit includes the filament. The B-circuit includes the part of the tube between filament and plate. The C-circuit includes the part between filament and grid. We sometimes speak of the C-circuit as the "input" circuit and the B-circuit as the "output" circuit of the tube. This is because we can put into the grid-filament terminals an e. m. f. and obtain from the plate-filament circuit an effect in the form of a change of current. [Illustration: Fig 96] Suppose we had concealed in a box the audion and circuit of Fig. 96 and that only the terminals which are shown came through the box. We are given a battery and an ammeter and asked to find out all we can as to what is between the terminals _F_ and _G_. We connect the battery and ammeter in series with these terminals. No current flows through the circuit. We reverse the battery but no current flows in the opposite direction. Then we reason that there is an open-circuit between _F_ and _G_. As long as we do not use a higher voltage than that of the C-battery which is in the box no current can flow. Even if we do use a higher voltage than the "negative C-battery" of the hidden grid-circuit there will be a current only when the external battery is connected so as to make the grid positive with respect to the filament. Now suppose we take several cells of battery and try in the same way to find what is hidden between the terminals _P_ and _F_. We start with one battery and the ammeter as before and find that if this battery is connected so as to make _P_ positive with respect to _F_, there is a feeble current. We increase the battery and find that the current is increased. Two cells, however, do not give exactly twice the current that one cell does, nor do three give three times as much. The current does not increase proportionately to the applied voltage. Therefore we reason that whatever is between _P_ and _F_ acts like a resistance but not like a wire resistance. Then, we try another experiment with this hidden audion. We connect a battery to _G_ and _F_, and note what effect it has on the current which our other battery is sending through the box between _P_ and _F_. There is a change of current in this circuit, just as if our act of connecting a battery to _G-F_ had resulted in connecting a battery in series with the _P-F_ circuit. The effect is exactly as if there is inside the box a battery which is connected into the hidden part of the circuit _P-F_. This concealed battery, which now starts to act, appears to be several times stronger than the battery which is connected to _G-F_. Sometimes this hidden battery helps the B-battery which is on the outside; and sometimes it seems to oppose, for the current in the _P-F_ circuit either increases or decreases, depending upon how we connect the battery to _G_ and _F_. The hidden battery is always larger than our battery connected to _G_ and _F_. If we arrange rapidly to reverse the battery connected to _G-F_ it appears as if there is inside the box in the _P-F_ circuit an alternator, that is, something which can produce an alternating e. m. f. All this, of course, is merely a review statement of what we already know. These experiments are interesting, however, because they follow somewhat those which were performed in studying the audion and finding out how to make it do all the wonderful things which it now can. As far as we have carried our series of experiments the box might contain two separate circuits. One between _G_ and _F_ appears to be an open circuit. The other appears to have in it a resistance and a battery (or else an alternator). The e. m. f. of the battery, or alternator, as the case may be, depends on what source of e. m. f. is connected to _G-F_. Whatever that e. m. f. is, there is a corresponding kind of e. m. f. inside the box but one several times larger. [Illustration: Fig 97] We might, therefore, pay no further attention to what is actually inside the box or how all these effects are brought about. We might treat the entire box as if it was formed by two separate circuits as shown in Fig. 97. If we do so, we are replacing the box by something which is equivalent so far as effects are concerned, that is we are replacing an actual audion by two circuits which together are equivalent to it. The men who first performed such experiments wanted some convenient way of saying that if an alternator, which has an e. m. f. of _V_ volts, is connected to _F_ and _G_, the effect is the same as if a much stronger alternator is connected between _F_ and _P_. How much stronger this imaginary alternator is depends upon the design of the audion. For some audions it might be five times as strong, for other designs 6.5 or almost any other number, although usually a number of times less than 40. They used a little Greek letter called "mu" to stand for this number which depends on the design of the tube. Then they said that the hidden alternator in the output circuit was mu times as strong as the actual alternator which was applied between the grid and the filament. Of course, instead of writing the sound and name of the letter they used the letter [Greek: m] itself. And that is what I have done in the sketch of Fig. 97. Now we are ready to talk about the audion as an amplifier. The first thing to notice is the fact that we have an open circuit between _F_ and _G_. This is true as long as we don't apply an e. m. f. large enough to overcome the C-battery of Fig. 96 and thus let the grid become positive and attract electrons from the filament. We need then spend no further time thinking about what will happen in the circuit _G-F_, for there will be no current. As to the circuit _F-P_, we can treat it as a resistance in series with which there is a generator [Greek: m] times as strong as that which is connected to _F_ and _G_. The next problem is how to get the most out of this hidden generator. We call the resistance which the tube offers to the passage of electrons between _P_ and _F_ the "internal resistance" of the plate circuit of the tube. How large it is depends upon the design of tube. In some tubes it may be five or six thousand ohms, and in others several times as high. In the large tubes used in high-powered transmitting sets it is much less. Since it will be different in different cases we shall use a symbol for it and say that it is _R_{p}_ ohms. Then one rule for using an audion as an amplifier is this: To get the most out of an audion see that the telephone, or whatever circuit or piece of apparatus is connected to the output terminals, shall have a resistance of _R_{p}_ ohms. When the resistance of the circuit, which an audion is supplying with current, is the same as the internal resistance of the output side of the tube, then the audion gives its greatest output. That is the condition for the greatest "amount of energy each second," or the "greatest power" as we say. That rule is why we always select the telephone receivers which we use with an audion and always ask carefully as to their resistance when we buy. Sometimes, however, it is not practicable to use receivers of just the right resistance. Where we connect the output side of an audion to some other circuit, as where we let one audion supply another, it is usually impossible to follow this rule without adding some special apparatus. This leads to the next rule: If the telephone receiver, or the circuit, which we wish to connect to the output of an audion, does not have quite nearly a resistance of _R_{p}_ ohms we use a properly designed transformer as we have already done in Figs. 94 and 95. A transformer is two separate coils coupled together so that an alternating current in the primary will induce an alternating current in the secondary. Of course, if the secondary is open-circuited then no current can flow but there will be induced in it an e. m. f. which is ready to act if the circuit is closed. Transformers have an interesting ability to make a large resistance look small or vice versa. To show you why, I shall have to develop some rules for transformers. Suppose you have an alternating e. m. f. of ten volts applied to the primary of an iron-cored transformer which has ten turns. There is one volt applied to each turn. Now, suppose the secondary has only one turn. That one turn has induced in it an alternating e. m. f. of one volt. If there are more turns of wire forming the secondary, then each turn has induced in it just one volt. But the e. m. f.'s of all these turns add together. If the secondary has twenty turns, there is induced in it a total of twenty volts. So the first rule is this: In a transformer the number of volts in each turn of wire is just the same in the secondary as in the primary. If we want a high-voltage alternating e. m. f. all we have to do is to send an alternating current through the primary of a transformer which has in the secondary, many times more turns of wire than it has in the primary. From the secondary we obtain a higher voltage than we impress on the primary. You can see one application of this rule at once. When we use an audion as an amplifier of an alternating current we send the current which is to be amplified through the primary of a transformer, as in Fig. 94. We use a transformer with many times more turns on the secondary than on the primary so as to apply a large e. m. f. to the grid of the amplifying tube. That will mean a large effect in the plate circuit of the amplifier. You remember that the grid circuit of an audion with a proper value of negative C-battery is really open-circuited and no current will flow in it. For that case we get a real gain by using a "step-up" transformer, that is, one with more turns in the secondary than in the primary. It looks at first as if a transformer would always give a gain. _If we mean a gain in energy it will not_ although we may use it, as we shall see in a minute, to permit a vacuum tube to work into an output circuit more efficiently than it could without the transformer. We cannot have any more energy in the secondary circuit of a transformer than we give to the primary. Suppose we have a transformer with twice as many turns on the secondary as on the primary. To the primary we apply an alternating e. m. f. of a certain number of volts. In the secondary there will be twice as many volts because it has twice as many turns. The current in the secondary, however, will be only half as large as is the current in the primary. We have twice the force in the secondary but only half the electron stream. It is something like this: You are out coasting and two youngsters ask you to pull them and their sleds up hill. You pull one of them all the way and do a certain amount of work. On the other hand suppose you pull them both at once but only half way up. You pull twice as hard but only half as far and you do the same amount of work as before. [Illustration: Fig 98] We can't get more work out of the secondary of a transformer than we do in the primary. If we design the transformer so that there is a greater pull (e. m. f.) in the secondary the electron stream in the secondary will be correspondingly smaller. You remember how we measure resistance. We divide the e. m. f. (number of volts) by the current (number of amperes) to find the resistance (number of ohms). Suppose we do that for the primary and for the secondary of the transformer of Fig. 98 which we are discussing. See what happens in the secondary. There is only half as much voltage but twice as much current. It looks as though the secondary had one-fourth as much resistance as the primary. And so it has, but we usually call it "impedance" instead of resistance because straight wires resist but coils or condensers impede alternating e. m. f.'s. [Illustration: Fig 99] Before we return to the question of using a transformer in an audion circuit let us turn this transformer around as in Fig. 99 and send the current through the side with the larger number of windings. Let's talk of "primary" and "secondary" just as before but, of course, remember that now the primary has twice the turns of the secondary. On the secondary side we shall have only half the current, but there will be twice the e. m. f. The resistance of the secondary then is four times that of the primary. Now return to the amplifier of Fig. 94 and see what sort of a transformer should be between the plate circuit of the tube and the telephone receivers. Suppose the internal resistance of the tube is 12,000 ohms and the resistance of the telephones is 3,000 ohms. Suppose also that the resistance (really impedance) of the primary side of the transformer which we just considered is 12,000 ohms. The impedance of its secondary will be a quarter of this or 3,000 ohms. If we connect such a transformer in the circuit, as shown, we shall obtain the greatest output from the tube. In the first place the primary of the transformer has a number of ohms just equal to the internal resistance of the tube. The tube, therefore, will give its best to that transformer. In the second place the secondary of the transformer has a resistance just equal to the telephone receivers so it can give its best to them. The effect of the transformer is to make the telephones act as if they had four times as much resistance and so were exactly suited to be connected to the audion. This whole matter of the proper use of transformers is quite simple but very important in setting up vacuum-tube circuits. To overlook it in building or buying your radio set will mean poor efficiency. Whenever you have two parts of a vacuum-tube circuit to connect together be sure and buy only a transformer which is designed to work between the two impedances (or resistances) which you wish to connect together. There is one more precaution in connection with the purchase of transformers. They should do the same thing for all the important frequencies which they are to transmit. If they do not, the speech or signals will be distorted and may be unintelligible. If you take the precautions which I have mentioned your radio receiving set formed by a detector and one amplifier will look like that of Fig. 94. That is only one possible scheme of connections. You can use any detector circuit which you wish,[10] one with a grid condenser and leak, or one arranged for feed-back In either case your amplifier may well be as shown in the figure. [Illustration: Fig 100] The circuit I have described uses an audion to amplify the audio-frequency currents which come from the detector and are capable of operating the telephones. In some cases it is desirable to amplify the radio signals before applying them to the detector. This is especially true where a "loop antenna" is being used. Loop antennas are smaller and more convenient than aërials and they also have certain abilities to select the signals which they are to receive because they receive best from stations which lie along a line drawn parallel to their turns. Unfortunately, however, they are much less efficient and so require the use of amplifiers. With a small loop made by ten turns of wire separated by about a quarter of an inch and wound on a square mounting, about three feet on a side, you will usually require two amplifiers. One of these might be used to amplify the radio signals before detection and the other to amplify after detection. To tune the loop for broadcasts a condenser of about 0.0005 mf. will be needed. The diagram of Fig. 100 shows the complete circuit of a set with three stages of radio-amplification and none of audio. [Footnote 10: Except for patented circuits. See p. 224.] LETTER 20 TELEPHONE RECEIVERS AND OTHER ELECTROMAGNETIC DEVICES DEAR SON: In an earlier letter when we first introduced a telephone receiver into a circuit I told you something of how it operates. I want now to tell why and also of some other important devices which operate for the same reason. You remember that a stream of electrons which is starting or stopping can induce the electrons of a neighboring parallel circuit to start off in parallel paths. We do not know the explanation of this. Nor do we know the explanation of another fact which seems to be related to this fact of induction and is the basis for our explanations of magnetism. [Illustration: Fig 101] If two parallel wires are carrying steady electron streams in the same general direction the wires attract each other. If the streams are oppositely directed the wires repel each other. Fig. 101 illustrates this fact. If the streams are not at all in the same direction, that is, if they are at right angles, they have no effect on each other. [Illustration: Fig 102] These facts, of the attraction of electron streams which are in the same direction and repulsion of streams in opposite directions, are all that one need remember to figure out for himself what will happen under various conditions. For example, if two coils of wire are carrying currents what will happen is easily seen. Fig. 102 shows the two coils and a section through them. [Illustration: Fig 103] Looking at this cross section we seem to have four wires, _1_ and _2_ of coil _A_ and _3_ and _4_ of coil _B_. You see at once that if the coils are free to move they will move into the dotted positions shown in Fig 102, because wire _1_ attracts wire _3_ and repels wire _4_, while wire _2_ attracts wire _4_ and repels wire _3_. If necessary, and if they are free to move, the coils will turn completely around to get to this position. I have shown such a case in Fig. 103. Wires which are not carrying currents do not behave in this way. The action is due, but how we don't yet know, to the motions of the electrons. As far as we can explain it to-day, the attraction of two wires which are carrying currents is due to the attraction of the two streams of electrons. Of course these electrons are part of the wires. They can't get far away from the stay-at-home electrons and the nuclei of the atoms which form the wires. In fact it is these nuclei which keep the wandering electrons within the wires. The result is that if the streams of electrons are to move toward each other the wires must go along with them. If the wires are held firmly the electron streams cannot approach one another for they must stay in the wires. Wires, therefore, perform the important service of acting as paths for electrons which are traveling as electric currents. There are other ways in which electrons can be kept in a path, and other means beside batteries for keeping them going. It doesn't make any difference so far as the attraction or the repulsion is concerned why they are following a certain path or why they stay in it. So far as we know two streams of electrons, following parallel paths, will always, behave just like the two streams of Fig. 101. [Illustration: Fig 104] Suppose, for example, there were two atoms which were each formed by a nucleus and a number of electrons swinging around about the nucleus as pictured in Fig. 104. The electrons are going of their own accord and the nucleus keeps them from flying off at a tangent, the way mud flies from the wheel of an automobile. Suppose these two atoms are free to turn but not to move far from their present positions. They will turn so as to make their electron paths parallel just as did the loops of Fig. 102. [Illustration: Fig 105] Now, I don't say that there are any atoms at all like the ones I have pictured. There is still a great deal to be learned about how electrons act inside different kinds of atoms. We do know, however, that the atoms of iron act just as if they were tiny loops with electron streams. [Illustration: Fig 106] Suppose we had several loops and that they were lined up like the three loops in Fig. 105. You can see that they would all attract the other loop, on the right in the figure. On the other hand if they were grouped in the triangle of Fig. 106 they would barely affect the loop because they would be pulling at cross purposes. If a lot of the tiny loops of the iron atoms are lined up so as to act together and attract other loops, as in the first figure, we say the iron is magnetized and is a magnet. In an ordinary piece of iron, however, the atoms are so grouped that they don't pull together but like the loops of our second figure pull in different directions and neutralize each other's efforts so that there is no net effect. [Illustration: Pl. IX.--Western Electric Loud Speaking Receiver. Crystal Detector Set of the General Electric Co. Audibility Meter of General Radio Co.] And like the loops of Fig. 106 the atoms in an unmagnetized piece of iron are pretty well satisfied to stay as they are without all lining up to pull together. To magnetize the iron we must force some of these atomic loops to turn part way around. That can be done by bringing near them a strong magnet or a coil of wire which is carrying a current. Then the atoms are forced to turn and if enough turn so that there is an appreciable effect then the iron is magnetized. The more that are properly turned the stronger is the magnet. One end or "pole" we call north-seeking and the other south-seeking, because a magnetized bar of iron acts like a compass needle. [Illustration: Fig 107] A coil of wire, carrying a current, acts just like a magnet because its larger loops are all ready to pull together. I have marked the coil of Fig. 107 with _N_ and _S_ for north and south. If the electron stream in it is reversed the "polarity" is reversed. There is a simple rule for this. Partially close your left hand so that the fingers form loops. Let the thumb stick out at right angles to these loops. If the electron streams are flowing around the loops of a coil in the same direction as your fingers point then your thumb is the _N_ pole and the coil will repel the north poles of other loops or magnets in the direction in which your thumb points. If you know the polarity already there is a simple rule for the repulsion or attraction. Like poles repel, unlike poles attract. From what has been said about magnetism you can now understand why in a telephone receiver the current in the winding can make the magnet stronger. It does so because it makes more of the atomic loops of the iron turn around and help pull. On the other hand if the current in the winding is reversed it will turn some of the loops which are already helping into other positions where they don't help and may hinder. If the current in the coil is to help, the electron stream in it must be so directed that the north pole of the coil is at the same end as the north pole of the magnet. This idea of the attraction or repulsion of electron streams, whether in coils of wire or in atoms of iron and other magnetizable substances, is the fundamental idea of most forms of telephone receivers, of electric motors, and of a lot of other devices which we call "electromagnetic." The ammeters and voltmeters which we use for the measurement of audion characteristics and the like are usually electromagnetic instruments. Ammeters and voltmeters are alike in their design. Both are sensitive current-measuring instruments. In the case of the voltmeter, as you know, we have a large resistance in series with the current-measuring part for the reason of which I told in Letter 8. In the case of ammeters we sometimes let all the current go through the current-measuring part but generally we let only a certain fraction of it do so. To pass the rest of the current we connect a small resistance in parallel with the measuring part. In both types of instruments the resistances are sometimes hidden away under the cover. Both instruments must, of course, be calibrated as I have explained before. In the electromagnetic instruments there are several ways of making the current-measuring part. The simplest is to let the current, or part of it, flow through a coil which is pivoted between the _N_ and _S_ poles of a strong permanent magnet. A spring keeps the coil in its zero position and if the current makes the coil turn it must do so against this spring. The stronger the current in the coil the greater the interaction of the loops of the coil and those of the iron atoms and hence the further the coil will turn. A pointer attached to the coil indicates how far; and the number of volts or amperes is read off from the calibrated scale. Such instruments measure direct-currents, that is, steady streams of electrons in one direction. To measure an alternating current or voltage we can use a hot-wire instrument or one of several different types of electromagnetic instruments. Perhaps the simplest of these is the so-called "plunger type." The alternating current flows in a coil; and a piece of soft iron is so pivoted that it can be attracted and moved into the coil. Soft iron does not make a good permanent magnet. If you put a piece of it inside a coil which is carrying a steady current it becomes a magnet but about as soon as you interrupt the current the atomic loops of the iron stop pulling together. Almost immediately they turn into all sorts of positions and form little self-satisfied groups which don't take any interest in the outside world. (That isn't true of steel, where the atomic loops are harder to turn and to line up, but are much more likely to stay in their new positions.) Because the plunger in an alternating-current ammeter is soft iron its loops line up with those of the coil no matter which way the electron stream happens to be going in the coil. The atomic magnets in the iron turn around each time the current reverses and they are always, therefore, lined up so that the plunger is attracted. If the plunger has much inertia or if the oscillations of the current are reasonably frequent the plunger will not move back and forth with each reversal of the current but will take an average position. The stronger the a-c (alternating current) the farther inside the coil will be this position of the plunger. The position of the plunger becomes then a measure of the strength of the alternating current. Instruments for measuring alternating e. m. f.'s and currents, read in volts and in amperes. So far I haven't stopped to tell what we mean by one ampere of alternating current. You know from Letter 7 what we mean by an ampere of d-c (direct current). It wasn't necessary to explain before because I told you only of hot-wire instruments and they will read the same for either d-c or a-c. When there is an alternating current in a wire the electrons start, rush ahead, stop, rush back, stop, and do it all over again and again. That heats the wire in which it happens. If an alternating stream of electrons, which are doing this sort of thing, heats a wire just exactly as much as would a d-c of one ampere, then we say that the a-c has an "effective value" of one ampere. Of course part of the time of each cycle the stream is larger than an ampere but for part it is less. If the average heating effect is the same the a-c is said to be one ampere. In the same way, if a steady e. m. f. (a d-c e. m. f.) of one volt will heat a wire to which it is applied a certain amount and if an alternating e. m. f. will have the same heating effect in the same time, then the a-c e. m. f. is said to be one volt. Another electromagnetic instrument which we have discussed but of which more should be said is the iron-cored transformer. We consider first what happens in one of the coils of the transformer. The inductance of a coil is very much higher if it has an iron core. The reason is that then the coil acts as if it had an enormously larger number of turns. All the atomic loops of the core add their effects to the loops of the coil. When the current starts it must line up a lot of these atomic loops. When the current stops and these loops turn back into some of their old self-satisfied groupings, they affect the electrons in the coil. Where first they opposed the motion of these electrons, now they insist on its being continued for a moment longer. I'll prove that by describing two simple experiments; and then we'll have the basis for understanding the effect of an iron core in a transformer. [Illustration: Fig 33] Look again at Fig. 33 of Letter 9 which I am reproducing for convenience. We considered only what would happen in coil _cd_ if a current was started in coil _ab_. Suppose instead of placing the coils as shown in that figure they are placed as in Fig. 108. Because they are at right angles there will be no effect in _cd_ when the current is started in _ab_. Let the current flow steadily through _ab_ and then suddenly turn the coils so that they are again parallel as shown by the dotted positions. We get the same temporary current in _cd_ as we would if we should place the coils parallel and then start the current in _ab_. [Illustration: Fig 108] The other experiment is this: Starting with the coils lined up as in the dotted position of Fig. 108 and the current steadily flowing in _ab_, we suddenly turn them into positions at right angles to each other. There is the same momentary current in _cd_ as if we had left them lined up and had opened the switch in the circuit of _ab_. [Illustration: Fig 109] Now we know that the atomic loops of iron behave in the same general way as do loops of wire which are carrying currents. Let us replace the coil _ab_ by a magnet as shown in Fig. 109. First we start with the magnet at right angles to the coil _cd_. Suddenly we turn it into the dotted position of that figure. There is the same momentary current in _cd_ as if we were still using the coil _ab_ instead of a magnet. If now we turn the magnet back to a position at right angles to _cd_, we observe the opposite direction of current in _cd_. These effects are more noticeable the more rapidly we turn the magnet. The same is true of turning the coil. The experiment of turning the magnet illustrates just what happens in the case of a transformer with, an iron core except that instead of turning the entire magnet the little atomic loops do the turning inside the core. In the secondary of an iron-cored transformer the induced current is the sum of two currents both in the same direction at each instant. One current is caused by the starting or stopping of the current in the primary. The other current is due to the turning of the atomic loops of the iron atoms so that more of them line up with the turns of the primary. These atomic loops, of course, are turned by the current in the primary. There are so many of them, however, that the current due to their turning is usually the more important part of the total current. In all transformers the effect is greater the more rapidly the current changes direction and the atomic loops turn around. For the same size of electron stream in the primary, therefore, there is induced in the secondary a greater e. m. f. the greater is the frequency with which the primary current alternates. Where high frequencies are dealt with it isn't necessary to have iron cores because the effect is large enough without the help of the atomic loops. And even if we wanted their help it wouldn't be easy to obtain, for they dislike to turn so fast and it takes a lot of power to make them do so. We know that fact because we know that an iron core increases the inductance and so chokes the current. For low frequencies, however, that is those frequencies in the audio range, it is usually necessary to have iron cores so as to get enough effect without too many turns of wire. The fact that iron decreases the inductance and so seriously impedes alternating currents leads us to use iron-core coils where we want high inductance. Such coils are usually called "choke coils" or "retard coils." Of their use we shall see more in a later letter where we study radio-telephone transmitters. LETTER 21 YOUR RECEIVING SET AND HOW TO EXPERIMENT MY DEAR STUDENT: In this letter I want to tell you how to experiment with radio apparatus. The first rule is this: Start with a simple circuit, never add anything to it until you know just why you are doing so, and do not box it up in a cabinet until you know how it is working and why. Your antenna at the start had better be a single wire about 25 feet high and about 75 feet long. This antenna will have capacity of about 0.0001 m. f. If you want an antenna of two wires spaced about three feet apart I would make it about 75 feet long. Bring down a lead from each wire, twisting them into a pigtail to act like one wire except near the horizontal part of the antenna. [Illustration: Fig 110] Your ground connection can go to a water pipe. To protect the house and your apparatus from lightning insert a fuse and a little carbon block lightning arrester such as are used by the telephone company in their installations of house phones. You can also use a so-called "vacuum lightning arrester." In either case the connections will be as shown in Fig. 111. If you use a loop antenna, of course, no arrester is needed. At first I would plan to receive signals between 150 meters and 360 meters. This will include the amateurs who work between 160 and 200 m., the special amateurs who send C-W telegraph at 275 m., and the broadcasting stations which operate at 360 m. This range will give you plenty to listen to while you are experimenting. In addition you will get some ship signals at 300 m. [Illustration: Fig 111] To tune the antenna to any of the wave lengths in this range you can use a coil of 75 turns wound on a cardboard tube of three and a half inches in diameter. You can wind this coil of bare wire if you are careful, winding a thread along with the wire so as to keep the successive turns separated. In that case you will need to construct a sliding contact for it. That is the simplest form of tuner. On the other hand you can wind with single silk covered wire and bring out taps at the 0, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 14, 20, 28, 36, 44, 56, 66, and 75th turns. To make a tap drill a small hole through the tube, bend the wire into a loop about a foot long and pull this loop through the hole as shown in Fig. 110. Then give the wire a twist, as shown, so that it can't pull out, and proceed with your winding. Use 26 s. s. c. wire. You will need about 80 feet and might buy 200 to have enough for the secondary coil. Make contacts to the taps by two rotary switches as shown in Fig. 112. You can buy switch arms and contacts studs or a complete switch mounted on a small panel of some insulating compound. Let switch _s_{1}_ make the contacts for taps between 14 and 75 turns, and let switch _s_{2}_ make the other contacts. For the secondary coil use the same size of wire and of core. Wind 60 turns, bringing out a tap at the middle. To tune the secondary circuit you will need a variable condenser. You can buy one of the small ones with a maximum capacity of about 0.0003 mf., one of the larger ones with a maximum capacity of 0.0005 mf., or even the larger size which has a maximum capacity of 0.001 mf. I should prefer the one of 0.0005 mf. You will need a crystal detector--I should try galena first--and a so-called "cat's whisker" with which to make contact with the galena. For these parts and for the switch mentioned above you can shop around to advantage. For telephone receivers I would buy a really good pair with a resistance of about 2500 ohms. Buy also a small mica condenser of 0.002 mf. for a blocking condenser. Your entire outfit will then look as in Fig. 112. The switch _S_ is a small knife switch. To operate, leave the switch _S_ open, place the primary and secondary coils near together as in the figure and listen. The tuning is varied, while you listen, by moving the slider of the slide-wire tuner or by moving the switches if you have connected your coil for that method. Make large changes in the tuning by varying the switch _s_{1}_ and then turn slowly through all positions of _s_{2}_, listening at each position. [Illustration: Fig 112] When a signal is heard adjust to the position of _s_{1}_ and _s_{2}_ which gives the loudest signal and then closing _S_ start to tune the secondary circuit. To do this, vary the capacity of the condenser in the secondary circuit. Don't change the primary tuning until you have tuned the secondary and can get the signal with good volume, that is loud. You will want to vary the position of the primary and secondary coils, that is, vary their coupling, for you will get sharper tuning as they are drawn farther apart. Sharper tuning means less interference from other stations which are sending on wave lengths near that which you wish to receive. Reduce the coupling, therefore, and then readjust the tuning. It will usually be necessary to make a slight change in both circuits, in one case with switch _s_{1}_ and in the other with the variable condenser. As soon as you can identify any station which you hear sending make a note of the position of the switches _s_{1}_ and _s_{2}_, and of the setting of the condenser in the secondary circuit. In that way you will acquire information as to the proper adjustments to receive certain wave-lengths. This is calibrating your set by the known wave-lengths of distant stations. After learning to receive with this simple set I should recommend buying a good audion tube. Ask the seller to supply you with a blue print of the characteristic[11] of the tube taken under the conditions of filament current and plate voltage which he recommends for its use. Buy a storage battery and a small slide-wire rheostat, that is variable resistance, to use in the filament circuit. Buy also a bank of dry batteries of the proper voltage for the plate circuit of the tube. At the same time you should buy the proper design of transformer to go between the plate circuit of your tube and the pair of receivers which you have. It will usually be advisable to ask the dealer to show you a characteristic curve for the transformer, which will indicate how well the transformer operates at the different frequencies in the audio range. It should operate very nearly the same for all frequencies between 200 and 2500 cycles. The next step is to learn to use the tube as a detector. Connect it into your secondary circuit instead of the crystal detector. Use the proper value of C-battery as determined from your study of the characteristic of the tube. One or two small dry cells, which have binding-post terminals are convenient C-batteries. If you think you will need a voltage much different from that obtained with a whole number of batteries you can arrange to supply the grid as we did in Fig. 86 of Letter 18. In that case you can use a few feet of 30 German-silver wire and make connections to it with a suspender clip. Learn to receive with the tube and be particularly careful not to let the filament have too much current and burn out. Now buy some more apparatus. You will need a grid condenser of about 0.0002 mf. The grid leaks to go with it you can make for yourself. I would use a piece of brown wrapping paper and two little metal eyelets. The eyelets can be punched into the paper. Between them coat the paper with carbon ink, or with lead pencil marks. A line about an inch long ought to serve nicely. You will probably wish to make several grid leaks to try. When you get satisfactory operation in receiving by the grid-condenser method the leak will probably be somewhere between a megohm and two megohms. For this method you will not want a C-battery, but you will wish to operate the detector with about as high a voltage as the manufacturers will recommend for the plate circuit. In this way the incoming signal, which decreases the plate current, can produce the largest decrease. It is also possible to start with the grid slightly positive instead of being as negative as it is when connected to the negative terminal of the A-battery. There will then be possible a greater change in grid voltage. To do so connect the grid as in Fig. 115 to the positive terminal of the A-battery. [Illustration: Fig 113] About this time I would shop around for two or three small double-pole double-throw switches. Those of the 5-ampere size will do. With these you can arrange to make comparisons between different methods of receiving. Suppose, for example, you connect the switches as shown in Fig. 113 so that by throwing them to the left you are using the audion and to the right the crystal as a detector. You can listen for a minute in one position and then switch and listen for a minute in the other position, and so on back and forth. That way you can tell whether or not you really are getting better results. If you want a rough measure of how much better the audion is than the crystal you might see, while you are listening to the audion, how much you can rob the telephone receiver of its current and still hear as well as you do when you switch back to the crystal. The easiest way to do this is to put a variable resistance across the receiver as shown in Fig. 113. Adjust this resistance until the intensity of the signal when detected by the audion is the same as for the crystal. You adjust this variable resistance until it by-passes so much of the current, which formerly went through the receiver, that the "audibility" of the signal is reduced until it is the same as for the crystal detector. Carefully made resistances for such a purpose are sold under the name of "audibility meters." You can assemble a resistance which will do fairly well if you will buy a small rheostat which will give a resistance varying by steps of ten ohms from zero to one hundred ohms. At the same time you can buy four resistance spools of one hundred ohms each and perhaps one of 500 ohms. The spools need not be very expensive for you do not need carefully adjusted resistances. Assemble them so as to make a rheostat with a range of 0-1000 ohms by steps of 10 ohms. The cheapest way to mount is with Fahnestock clips as illustrated in Fig. 114. After a while, however, you will probably wish to mount them in a box with a rotary switch on top. [Illustration: Fig 114] To study the effect of the grid condenser you can arrange switches so as to insert this condenser and its leak and at the same time to cut out the C-battery. Fig. 115 shows how. You can measure the gain in audibility at the same time. [Illustration: Pl. X.--Audio-frequency Transformer and Banked-wound Coil. (Courtesy of Pacent Electric Co.)] [Illustration: Fig 115] After learning to use the audion as a detector, both by virtue of its curved characteristic and by the grid-condenser method, I would suggest studying the same tube as an amplifier. First I would learn to use it as an audio-frequency amplifier. Set up the crystal detector circuit. Use your audio-frequency transformer the other way around so as to step up to the grid. Put the telephone in the plate circuit. Choose your C-battery for amplification and _not detection_ and try to receive. You will get better results if you can afford another iron-core transformer. If you can, buy one which will work between the plate circuit of one vacuum tube and the grid circuit of another similar tube. Then you will have the right equipment when you come to make a two-stage audio-frequency amplifier. If you buy such a transformer use the other transformer between plate and telephones as you did before and insert the new one as shown in Fig. 116. This circuit also shows how you can connect the switches so as to see how much the audion is amplifying. [Illustration: Fig 116] The next step is to use the audion as an amplifier of the radio-signal before its detection. Use the proper C-battery for an amplifier, as determined from the blue print of the tube characteristic. Connect the tube as shown in Fig. 117. You will see that in this circuit we are using a choke coil to keep the radio-frequency current out of the battery part of the plate circuit and a small condenser, another one of 0.002 mf., to keep the battery current from the crystal detector. You can see from the same figure how you can arrange the switches so as to find whether or not you are getting any gain from the amplifier. Now you are ready to receive those C-W senders at 275 meters. You will need to wind another coil like the secondary coil you already have. Here is where you buy another condenser. You will need it later. If before you bought the 0.0005 size, this time buy the 0.001 size or vice versa. Wind also a small coil for a tickler. About 20 turns of 26 wire on a core of 3-1/2 in. diameter will do. Connect the tickler in the plate circuit of the audion. Connect to the grid your new coil and condenser and set the audion circuit so that it will induce a current in the secondary circuit which supplies the crystal. Fig. 118 shows the hook-up. [Illustration: Fig 117] You will see that you are now supplying the crystal with current from two sources, namely the distant source of the incoming signals and the local oscillator which you have formed. The crystal will detect the "beat note" between these two currents. To receive the 275 meters signals you will need to make several adjustments at the same time. In the first place I would set the tuning of the antenna circuit and of the crystal circuit about where you think right because of your knowledge of the settings for other wave lengths. Then I would get the local oscillator going. You can tell whether or not it is going if you suddenly increase or decrease the coupling between the tickler coil and the input circuit of the audion. If this motion is accompanied by a click in the receivers the tube is oscillating. [Illustration: Fig 118] Now you must change the frequency at which it is oscillating by slowly changing the capacity in the tuned input circuit of the tube. Unless the antenna circuit is properly tuned to the 275 meter signal you will get no results. If it is, you will hear an intermittent musical note for some tune of your local oscillator. This note will have the duration of dots and dashes. You will have to keep changing the tuning of your detector circuit and of the antenna. For each new setting very slowly swing the condenser plates in the oscillator circuit and see if you get a signal. It will probably be easier to use the "stand-by position," which I have described, with switch _S_ open in the secondary circuit of Fig. 118. In that case you have only to tune your antenna to 275 meters and then you will pick up a note when your local oscillator is in tune. After you have done so you can tune the secondary circuit which supplies the crystal. If you adopt this method you will want a close coupling between the antenna and the crystal circuit. You will always want a very weak coupling between the oscillator circuit and the detector circuit. You will also probably want a weaker coupling between tickler and tube input than you are at first inclined to believe will be enough. Patience and some skill in manipulation is always required for this sort of experiment. When you have completed this experiment in heterodyne receiving, using a local oscillator, you are ready to try the regenerative circuit. This has been illustrated in Fig. 92 of Letter 18 and needs no further description. You will have the advantage when you come to this of knowing very closely the proper settings of the antenna circuit and the secondary tuned circuit. You will need then only to adjust the coupling of the tickler and make finer adjustments in your tuning. After you have completed this series of experiments you will be something of an adept at radio and are in a position to plan your final set. For this set you will need to purchase certain parts complete from reputable dealers because many of the circuits which I have described are patented and should not be used except as rights to use are obtained by the purchase of licensed apparatus which embodies the patented circuits. Knowing how radio receivers operate and why, you are now in a good condition to discuss with dealers the relative merits and costs of receiving sets. [Illustration: Fig 119] Before you actually buy a completed set you may want to increase the range of frequency over which you are carrying out your experiments. To receive at longer wave-lengths you will need to increase the inductance of your antenna so that it will be tuned to a lower frequency. This is usually called "loading" and can be done by inserting a coil in the antenna. To obtain smaller wave-lengths decrease the effective capacity of the antenna circuit by putting another condenser in series with the antenna. Usually, therefore, one connects into his antenna circuit both a condenser and a loading coil. By using a variable condenser the effective capacity of the antenna system may be easily changed. The result is that this series condenser method becomes the easiest method of tuning and the slide wire tuner is not needed. Fig. 119 shows the circuit. For quite a range of wave-lengths we may use the same loading coil and tune the antenna circuit entirely by this series condenser. For some other range of wave-lengths we shall then need a different loading coil. In a well-designed set the wave-length ranges overlap. The calculation of the size of loading coil is quite easy but requires more arithmetic than I care to impose on you at present. I shall therefore merely give you illustrations based on the assumption that your antenna has a capacity of 0.0001 or of 0.0002 mf. and that the condensers which you have bought are 0.0005 and 0.001 for their maxima. In Table I there is given, for each of several values of the inductance of the primary coil, the shortest and the longest wave-lengths which you can expect to receive. The table is in two parts, the first for an antenna of capacity 0.0001 mf. and the second for one of 0.0002 mf. Yours will be somewhere between these two limits. The shortest wave-length depends upon the antenna and not upon the condenser which you use in series with it for tuning. It also depends upon how much inductance there is in the coil which you have in the antenna circuit. The table gives values of inductance in the first column, and of minimum wave-length in the second. The third column shows what is the greatest wave-length you may expect if you use a tuning condenser of 0.0005 mf.; and the fourth column the slightly large wave-length which is possible with the larger condenser. TABLE I Part 1. (For antenna of 0.0001 mf.) Inductance in Shortest wave-length Longest wave-length in meters mil-henries. in meters. with 0.0005 mf. with 0.001 mf. 0.10 103 169 179 0.20 146 238 253 0.40 207 337 358 0.85 300 490 515 1.80 400 700 760 2.00 420 750 800 4.00 600 1080 1130 5.00 660 1200 1260 10.00 900 1700 1790 30.00 1600 2900 3100 Part 2. (For antenna of 0.0002 mf.) 0.10 169 225 240 0.16 210 285 305 0.20 240 320 340 0.25 270 355 380 0.40 340 450 480 0.60 420 550 590 0.80 480 630 680 1.20 585 775 840 1.80 720 950 1020 3.00 930 1220 1320 5.00 1200 1600 1700 8.00 1500 2000 2150 12.00 1850 2400 2650 16.00 2150 2800 3050 From Table I you can find how much inductance you will need in the primary circuit. A certain amount you will need to couple the antenna and the secondary circuit. The coil which you wound at the beginning of your experiments will do well for that. Anything more in the way of inductance, which the antenna circuit requires to give a desired wave-length, you may consider as loading. In Table II are some data as to winding coils on straight cores to obtain various values of inductance. Your 26 s. s. c. wire will wind about 54 turns to the inch. I have assumed that you will have this number of turns per inch on your coils and calculated the inductance which you should get for various numbers of total turns. The first part of the table is for a core of 3.5 inches in diameter and the second part for one of 5 inches. The first column gives the inductance in mil-henries. The second gives number of turns. The third and fourth are merely for convenience and give the approximate length in inches of the coil and the approximate total length of wire which is required to wind it. I have allowed for bringing out taps. In other words 550 feet of the wire will wind a coil of 10.2 inches with an inductance of 8.00 mil-henries, and permit you to bring out taps at all the lower values of inductance which are given in the table. Table II Part 1. (For a core of 3.5 in. diam.) Inductance in Number Length Feet of wire mil-henries. of turns. in inches. required. 0.10 25 0.46 25 0.16 34 0.63 36 0.20 39 0.72 42 0.25 44 0.81 49 0.40 58 1.07 63 0.60 75 1.38 80 0.80 92 1.70 100 0.85 96 1.78 104 1.00 108 2.00 118 1.20 123 2.28 133 1.80 164 3.03 176 2.00 180 3.33 190 3.00 242 4.48 250 4.00 304 5.62 310 5.00 366 6.77 370 8.00 550 10.20 550 Part 2. (For core of 5.0 in. diam.) 2.00 120 2.22 160 3.00 158 2.93 215 4.00 194 3.58 265 5.00 228 4.22 310 8.00 324 6.00 450 10.00 384 7.10 530 12.00 450 8.30 625 The coil which you wound at the beginning of your experiment had only 75 turns and was tapped so that you could, by manipulating the two switches of Fig. 112, get small variations in inductance. In Table III is given the values of the inductance which is controlled by the switches of that figure, the corresponding number of turns, and the wave-length to which the antenna should then be tuned. I am giving this for two values of antenna capacity, as I have done before. By the aid of these three tables you should have small difficulty in taking care of matters of tuning for all wave-lengths below about 3000 meters. If you want to get longer waves than that you had better buy a few banked-wound coils. These are coils in which the turns are wound over each other but in such a way as to avoid in large part the "capacity effects" which usually accompany such winding. You can try winding them for yourself but I doubt if the experience has much value until you have gone farther in the study of the mathematical theory of radio than this series of letters will carry you. TABLE III Circuit of Fig. 112 Number Inductance in Wave length with antenna of of turns. mil-henries. 0.0001 mf. 0.0002 mf. 14 0.04 120 170 20 0.07 160 220 28 0.12 210 290 36 0.18 250 360 44 0.25 300 420 56 0.38 370 520 75 0.60 460 650 In the secondary circuit there is only one capacity, that of the variable condenser. If it has a range of values from about 0.00005 mf. to 0.0005 mf. your coil of 60 turns and 0.42 mf. permits a range of wave-lengths from 270 to 860 m. Using half the coil the range is 150 to 480 m. With the larger condenser the ranges are respectively 270 to 1220 and 270 to 670. For longer wave-lengths load with inductance. Four times the inductance will tune to double these wave-lengths. [Footnote 11: If you can afford to buy, or if you can borrow, ammeters and voltmeters of the proper range you should take the characteristic yourself.] LETTER 22 HIGH-POWERED RADIO-TELEPHONE TRANSMITTERS MY DEAR EXPERIMENTER: This letter is to summarize the operations which must be performed in radio-telephone transmission and reception; and also to describe the circuit of an important commercial system. To transmit speech by radio three operations are necessary. First, there must be generated a high-frequency alternating current; second, this current must be modulated, that is, varied in intensity in accordance with the human voice; and third, the modulated current must be supplied to an antenna. For efficient operation, of course, the antenna must be tuned to the frequency which is to be transmitted. There is also a fourth operation which is usually performed and that is amplification. Wherever the electrical effect is smaller than desired, or required for satisfactory transmission, vacuum tubes are used as amplifiers. Of this I shall give you an illustration later. Three operations are also essential in receiving. First, an antenna must be so arranged and tuned as to receive energy from the distant transmitting station. There is then in the receiving antenna a current similar in wave form to that in the transmitting antenna. Second, the speech significance of this current must be detected, that is, the modulated current must be demodulated. A current is then obtained which has the same wave form as the human voice which was the cause of the modulation at the distant station. The third operation is performed by a telephone receiver which makes the molecules of air in its neighborhood move back and forth in accordance with the detected current. As you already know a fourth operation may be carried on by amplifiers which give on their output sides currents of greater strength but of the same forms as they receive at their input terminals. In transmitting and in receiving equipment two or more of these operations may be performed by the same vacuum tube as you will remember from our discussion of the regenerative circuit for receiving. For example, also, in any receiving set the vacuum tube which detects is usually amplifying. In the regenerative circuit for receiving continuous waves by the heterodyne method the vacuum tube functions as a generator of high-frequency current and as a detector of the variations in current which occur because the locally-generated current does not keep in step with that generated at the transmitting station. Another example of a vacuum tube performing simultaneously two different functions is illustrated in Fig. 120 which shows a simple radio-telephone transmitter. The single tube performs in itself both the generation of the radio-frequency current and its modulation in accordance with the output of the carbon-button transmitter. This audion is in a feed-back circuit, the oscillation frequency of which depends upon the condenser _C_ and the inductance _L_. The voice drives the diaphragm of the transmitter and thus varies the resistance of the carbon button. This varies the current from the battery, _B_{a}_, through the primary, _T_{1}_, of the transformer _T_. The result is a varying voltage applied to the grid by the secondary _T_{2}_. The oscillating current in the plate circuit of the audion varies accordingly because it is dependent upon the grid voltage. The condenser _C_{r}_ offers a low impedance to the radio-frequency current to which the winding _T_{2}_ of audio-frequency transformer offers too much. [Illustration: Fig 120] In this case the tube is both generator and "modulator." In some cases these operations are separately performed by different tubes. This was true of the transmitting set used in 1915 when the engineers of the Bell Telephone System talked by radio from Arlington, near Washington, D. C., to Paris and Honolulu. I shall not draw out completely the circuit of their apparatus but I shall describe it by using little squares to represent the parts responsible for each of the several operations. First there was a vacuum tube oscillator which generated a small current of the desired frequency. Then there was a telephone transmitter which made variations in a direct-current flowing through the primary of a transformer. The e. m. f. from the secondary of this transformer and the e. m. f. from the radio-frequency oscillator were both impressed upon the grid of an audion which acted as a modulator. The output of this audion was a radio-frequency current modulated by the voice. The output was amplified by a two-stage audion amplifier and supplied through a coupling coil to the large antenna of the U. S. Navy Station at Arlington. Fig. 121 shows the system. [Illustration: Fig 121] The audion amplifiers each consisted of a number of tubes operating in parallel. When tubes are operated in parallel they are connected as shown in Fig. 122 so that the same e. m. f. is impressed on all the grids and the same plate-battery voltage on all the plates. As the grids vary in voltage there is a corresponding variation of current in the plate circuit of each tube. The total change of the current in the plate-battery circuit is, then, the sum of the changes in all the plate-filament circuits of the tubes. This scheme of connections gives a result equivalent to that of a single tube with a correspondingly larger plate and filament. [Illustration: Fig 122] Parallel connection is necessary because a single tube would be overheated in delivering to the antenna the desired amount of power. You remember that when the audion is operated as an amplifier the resistance to which it supplies current is made equal to its own internal resistance of _R_{p}_. That means that there is in the plate circuit just as much resistance inside the tube as outside. Hence there is the same amount of work done each second in forcing the current through the tube as through the antenna circuit, if that is what the tube supplies. "Work per second" is power; the plate battery is spending energy in the tube at the same rate as it is supplying it to the antenna where it is useful for radiation. [Illustration: Pl. XI.--Broadcasting Equipment, Developed by the American Telephone and Telegraph Company and the Western Electric Company.] All the energy expended in the tube appears as heat. It is due to the blows which the electrons strike against the plate when they are drawn across from the filament. These impacts set into more rapid motion the molecules of the plate; and the temperature of the tube rises. There is a limit to the amount the temperature can rise without destroying the tube. For that reason the heat produced inside it must not exceed a certain limit depending upon the design of the tube and the method of cooling it as it is operated. In the Arlington experiments, which I mentioned a moment ago, the tubes were cooled by blowing air on them from fans. We can find the power expended in the plate circuit of a tube by multiplying the number of volts in its battery by the number of amperes which flows. Suppose the battery is 250 volts and the current 0.02 amperes, then the power is 5 watts. The "watt" is the unit for measuring power. Tubes are rated by the number of watts which can be safely expended in them. You might ask, when you buy an audion, what is a safe rating for it. The question will not be an important one, however, unless you are to set up a transmitting set since a detector is usually operated with such small plate-voltage as not to have expended in it an amount of power dangerous to its life. In recent transmitting sets the tubes are used in parallel for the reasons I have just told, but a different method of modulation is used. The generation of the radio-frequency current is by large-powered tubes which are operated with high voltages in their plate circuits. The output of these oscillators is supplied to the antenna. The intensity of the oscillations of the current in these tubes is controlled by changing the voltage applied in their plate circuits. You can see from Fig. 123 that if the plate voltage is changed the strength of the alternating current is changed accordingly. It is the method used in changing the voltage which is particularly interesting. [Illustration: Fig 123] The high voltages which are used in the plate circuits of these high-powered audions are obtained from generators instead of batteries. You remember from Letter 20 that an e. m. f. is induced in a coil when the coil and a magnet are suddenly changed in their positions, one being turned with reference to the other. A generator is a machine for turning a coil so that a magnet is always inducing an e. m. f. in it. It is formed by an armature carrying coils and by strong electromagnets. The machine can be driven by a steam or gas engine, by a water wheel, or by an electric motor. Generators are designed either to give steady streams of electrons, that is for d-c currents, or to act as alternators. [Illustration: Fig 124] Suppose we have, as shown in Fig. 124, a d-c generator supplying current to a vacuum tube oscillator. The current from the generator passes through an iron-cored choke coil, marked _L_{a}_ in the figure. Between this coil and the plate circuit we connect across the line a telephone transmitter. To make a system which will work efficiently we shall have to suppose that this transmitter has a high resistance, say about the same as the internal resistance, _R_{p}_, of the tube and also that it can carry as large a current. Of the current which comes from the generator about one-half goes to the tube and the rest to the transmitter. If the resistance of the transmitter is increased it can't take as much current. The coil, _L_{a}_, however, because of its inductance, tends to keep the same amount of current flowing through itself. For just an instant then the current in _L_{a}_ keeps steady even though the transmitter doesn't take its share. The result is more current for the oscillating tube. On the other hand if the transmitter takes more current, because its resistance is decreased, the choke coil, _L_{a}_, will momentarily tend to keep the current steady so that what the transmitter takes must be at the expense of the oscillating tube. That's one way of looking at what happens. We know, however, from Fig. 123 that to get an increase in the amplitude of the current in the oscillating tube we must apply an increased voltage to its plate circuit. That is what really happens when the transmitter increases in resistance and so doesn't take its full share of the current. The reason is this: When the transmitter resistance is increased the current in the transmitter decreases. Just for a moment it looks as though the current in _L_{a}_ is going to decrease. That's the way it looks to the electrons; and you know what electrons do in an inductive circuit when they think they shall have to stop. They induce each other to keep on for a moment. For a moment they act just as if there was some extra e. m. f. which was acting to keep them going. We say, therefore, that there is an extra e. m. f., and we call this an e. m. f. of self-induction. All this time there has been active on the plate circuit of the tube the e. m. f. of the generator. To this there is added at the instant when the transmitter resistance increases, the e. m. f. of self-induction in the coil, _L_{a}_ and so the total e. m. f. applied to the tube is momentarily increased. This increased e. m. f., of course, results in an increased amplitude for the alternating current which the oscillator is supplying to the transmitting antenna. When the transmitter resistance is decreased, and a larger current should flow through the choke coil, the electrons are asked to speed up in going through the coil. At first they object and during that instant they express their objection by an e. m. f. of self-induction which opposes the generator voltage. For an instant, then, the voltage of the oscillating tube is lowered and its alternating-current output is smaller. [Illustration: Fig 125] For the purpose of bringing about such threatened changes in current, and hence such e. m. f.'s of self-induction, the carbon transmitter is not suitable because it has too small a resistance and too small a current carrying ability. The plate circuit of a vacuum tube will serve admirably. You know from the audion characteristic that without changing the plate voltage we can, by applying a voltage to the grid, change the current through the plate circuit. Now if it was a wire resistance with which we were dealing and we should be able to obtain a change in current without changing the voltage acting on this wire we would say that we had changed the resistance. We can say, therefore, that the internal resistance of the plate circuit of a vacuum tube can be changed by what we do to the grid. In Fig. 125 I have substituted the plate circuit of an audion for the transmitter of Fig. 124 and arranged to vary its resistance by changing the potential of the grid. This we do by impressing upon the grid the e. m. f. developed in the secondary of a transformer, to the primary of which is connected a battery and a carbon transmitter. The current through the primary varies in accordance with the sounds spoken into the transmitter. And for all the reasons which we have just finished studying there are similar variations in the output current of the oscillating tube in the transmitting set of Fig. 125. In this latter figure you will notice a small air-core coil, _L_{R}_, between the oscillator and the modulator tube. This coil has a small inductance but it is enough to offer a large impedance to radio-frequency currents. The result is, it does not let the alternating currents of the oscillating tube flow into the modulator. These currents are confined to their own circuit, where they are useful in establishing similar currents in the antenna. On the other hand, the coil _L_{R}_ doesn't seriously impede low-frequency currents and therefore it does not prevent variations in the current which are at audio-frequency. It does not interfere with the changes in current which accompany the variations in the resistance of the plate circuit of the modulator. That is, it has too little impedance to act like _L_{a}_ and so it permits the modulator to vary the output of the oscillator. [Illustration: Fig 126] The oscillating circuit of Fig. 125 includes part of the antenna. It differs also from the others I have shown in the manner in which grid and plate circuits are coupled. I'll explain by Fig. 126. The transmitting set which I have just described involves many of the principles of the most modern sets. If you understand its operation you can probably reason out for yourself any of the other sets of which you will hear from time to time. LETTER 23 AMPLIFICATION AT INTERMEDIATE FREQUENCIES DEAR SON: In the matter of receiving I have already covered all the important principles. There is one more system, however, which you will need to know. This is spoken of either as the "super-heterodyne" or as the "intermediate-frequency amplification" method of reception. The system has two important advantages. First, it permits sharper tuning and so reduces interference from other radio signals. Second, it permits more amplification of the incoming signal than is usually practicable. First as to amplification: We have seen that amplification can be accomplished either by amplifying the radio-frequency current before detection or by amplifying the audio-frequency current which results from detection. There are practical limitations to the amount of amplification which can be obtained in either case. An efficient multi-stage amplifier for radio-frequencies is difficult to build because of what we call "capacity effects." Consider for example the portion of circuit shown in Fig. 127. The wires _a_ and _b_ act like small plates of condensers. What we really have, is a lot of tiny condensers which I have shown in the figure by the light dotted-lines. If the wires are transmitting high-frequency currents these condensers offer tiny waiting-rooms where the electrons can run in and out without having to go on to the grid of the next tube. There are other difficulties in high-frequency amplifiers. This one of capacity effects between parallel wires is enough for the present. It is perhaps the most interesting because it is always more or less troublesome whenever a pair of wires is used to transmit an alternating current. [Illustration: Fig 127] In the case of a multi-stage amplifier of audio-frequency current there is always the possibility of the amplification of any small variations in current which may naturally occur in the action of the batteries. There are always small variations in the currents from batteries, due to impurities in the materials of the plates, air bubbles, and other causes. Ordinarily we don't observe these changes because they are too small to make an audible sound in the telephone receivers. Suppose, however, that they take place in the battery of the first tube of a series of amplifiers. Any tiny change of current is amplified many times and results in a troublesome noise in the telephone receiver which is connected to the last tube. In both types of amplifiers there is, of course, always the chance that the output circuit of one tube may be coupled to and induce some effect in the input circuit of one of the earlier tubes of the series. This will be amplified and result in a greater induction. In other words, in a circuit where there is large amplification, there is always the difficulty of avoiding a feed-back of energy from one tube to another so that the entire group acts like an oscillating circuit, that is "regeneratively." Much of this difficulty can be avoided after experience. If a multi-stage amplifier is to be built for a current which does not have too high a frequency the "capacity effects" and the other difficulties due to high-frequency need not be seriously troublesome. If the frequency is not too high, but is still well above the audible limit, the noises due to variations in battery currents need not bother for they are of quite low frequency. Currents from 20,000 to 60,000 cycles a second are, therefore, the most satisfactory to amplify. Suppose, however, one wishes to amplify the signals from a radio-broadcasting station. The wave-length is 360 meters and the frequency is about 834,000 cycles a second. The system of intermediate-frequency amplification solves the difficulty and we shall see how it does so. [Illustration: Fig 128] At the receiving station a local oscillator is used. This generates a frequency which is about 30,000 cycles less than that of the incoming signal. Both currents are impressed on the grid of a detector. The result is, in the output of the detector, a current which has a frequency of 30,000 cycles a second. The intensity of this detected current depends upon the intensity of the incoming signal. The "beat note" current of 30,000 cycles varies, therefore, in accordance with the voice which is modulating at the distant sending station. The speech significance is now hidden in a current of a frequency intermediate between radio and audio. This current may be amplified many times and then supplied to the grid of a detector which obtains from it a current of audio-frequency which has a speech significance. In Fig. 128 I have indicated the several operations. We can now see why this method permits sharper tuning. The whole idea of tuning, of course, is to arrange that the incoming signal shall cause the largest possible current and at the same time to provide that any signals at other wave-lengths shall cause only negligible currents. What we want a receiving set to do is to distinguish between two signals which differ slightly in wave-length and to respond to only one of them. Suppose we set up a tuned circuit formed by a coil and a condenser and try it out for various frequencies of signals. You know how it will respond from our discussion in connection with the tuning curve of Fig. 51 of Letter 13. We might find from a number of such tests that the best we can expect any tuned circuit to do is to discriminate between signals which differ about ten percent in frequency, that is, to receive well the desired signal and to fail practically entirely to receive a signal of a frequency either ten percent higher or the same amount lower. For example, if the signal is at 30,000 cycles a tuned circuit might be expected to discriminate against an interfering signal of 33,000. If the signal is at 300,000 cycles a tuned circuit might discriminate against an interfering signal of 330,000 cycles, but an interference at 303,000 cycles would be very troublesome indeed. It couldn't be "tuned out" at all. Now suppose that the desired signal is at 300,000 cycles and that there is interference at 303,000 cycles. We provide a local oscillator of 270,000 cycles a second, receive by this "super-heterodyne" method which I have just described, and so obtain an intermediate frequency. In the output of the first detector we have then a current of 300,000--270,000 or 30,000 cycles due to the desired signal and also a current of 303,000--270,000 or 33,000 cycles due to the interference. Both these currents we can supply to another tuned circuit which is tuned for 30,000 cycles a second. It can receive the desired signal but it can discriminate against the interference because now the latter is ten percent "off the tune" of the signal. You see the question is not one of how far apart two signals are in number of cycles per second. The question always is: How large in percent is the difference between the two frequencies? The matter of separating two effects of different frequencies is a question of the "interval" between the frequencies. To find the interval between two frequencies we divide one by the other. You can see that if the quotient is larger than 1.1 or smaller than 0.9 the frequencies differ by ten percent or more. The higher the frequency the larger the number of cycles which is represented by a given size of interval. While I am writing of frequency intervals I want to tell you one thing more of importance. You remember that in human speech there may enter, and be necessary, any frequency between about 200 and 2000 cycles a second. That we might call the range of the necessary notes in the voice. Whenever we want a good reproduction of the voice we must reproduce all the frequencies in this range. Suppose we have a radio-current of 100,000 cycles modulated by the frequencies in the voice range. We find in the output of our transmitting set not only a current of 100,000 cycles but currents in two other ranges of frequencies. One of these is above the signal frequency and extends from 100,200 to 102,000 cycles. The other is the same amount below and extends from 98,000 to 99,800 cycles. We say there is an upper and a lower "band of frequencies." All these currents are in the complex wave which comes from the radio-transmitter. For this statement you will have to take my word until you can handle the form of mathematics known as "trigonometry." When we receive at the distant station we receive not only currents of the signal frequency but also currents whose frequencies lie in these "side-bands." No matter what radio-frequency we may use we must transmit and receive side-bands of this range if we use the apparatus I have described in the past letters. You can see what that means. Suppose we transmit at a radio-frequency of 50,000 cycles and modulate that with speech. We shall really need all the range from 48,000 cycles to 52,000 cycles for one telephone message. On the other hand if we modulated a 500,000 cycle wave by speech the side-bands are from 498,000 to 499,800 and 500,200 to 502,000 cycles. If we transmit at 50,000 cycles, that is, at 6000 meters, we really need all the range between 5770 meters and 6250 meters, as you can see by the frequencies of the side-bands. At 100,000 cycles we need only the range of wave-lengths between 2940 m. and 3060 m. If the radio-frequency is 500,000 cycles we need a still smaller range of wave-lengths to transmit the necessary side-bands. Then the range is from 598 m. to 603 m. In the case of the transmission of speech by radio we are interested in having no interference from other signals which are within 2000 cycles of the frequency of our radio-current no matter what their wave-lengths may be. The part of the wave-length range which must be kept clear from interfering signals becomes smaller the higher the frequency which is being modulated. You can see that very few telephone messages can be sent in the long-wave-length part of the radio range and many more, although not very many after all, in the short wave-length part of the radio range. You can also see why it is desirable to keep amateurs in the short wave-length part of the range where more of them can transmit simultaneously without interfering with each other or with commercial radio stations. There is another reason, too, for keeping amateurs to the shortest wave-lengths. Transmission of radio signals over short distances is best accomplished by short wave-lengths but over long distances by the longer wave-lengths. For trans-oceanic work the very longest wave-lengths are best. The "long-haul" stations, therefore, work in the frequency range immediately above 10,000 cycles a second and transmit with wave lengths of 30,000 m. and shorter. [Illustration: Pl. XII.--Broadcasting Station of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company on the Roof of the Walker-Lispenard Bldg. in New York City Where the Long-distance Telephone Lines Terminate.] LETTER 24 BY WIRE AND BY RADIO DEAR BOY: The simplest wire telephone-circuit is formed by a transmitter, a receiver, a battery, and the connecting wire. If two persons are to carry on a conversation each must have this amount of equipment. The apparatus might be arranged as in Fig. 129. This set-up, however, requires four wires between the two stations and you know the telephone company uses only two wires. Let us find the principle upon which its system operates because it is the solution of many different problems including that of wire-to-radio connections. [Illustration: Fig 129] Imagine four wire resistances connected together to form a square as in Fig. 130. Suppose there are two pairs of equal resistances, namely _R_{1}_ and _R_{2}_, and _Z_{1}_ and _Z_{2}_. If we connect a generator, _G_, between the junctions _a_ and _b_ there will be two separate streams of electrons, one through the R-side and the other through the Z-side of the circuit. These streams, of course, will not be of the same size for the larger stream will flow through the side which offers the smaller resistance. [Illustration: Fig 130] Half the e. m. f. between _a_ and _b_ is used up in sending the stream half the distance. Half is used between _a_ and the points _c_ and _d_, and the other half between _c_ and _d_ and the other end. It doesn't make any difference whether we follow the stream from _a_ to _c_ or from _a_ to _d_, it takes half the e. m. f. to keep this stream going. Points _c_ and _d_, therefore, are in the same condition of being "half-way electrically" from _a_ to _b_. The result is that there can be no current through any wire which we connect between _c_ and _d_. Suppose, therefore, that we connect a telephone receiver between _c_ and _d_. No current flows in it and no sound is emitted by it. Now suppose the resistance of _Z_{2}_ is that of a telephone line which stretches from one telephone station to another. Suppose also that _Z_{1}_ is a telephone line exactly like _Z_{2}_ except that it doesn't go anywhere at all because it is all shut up in a little box. We'll call _Z_{1}_ an artificial telephone line. We ought to call it, as little children would say, a "make-believe" telephone line. It doesn't fool us but it does fool the electrons for they can't tell the difference between the real line _Z_{2}_ and the artificial line _Z_{1}_. We can make a very good artificial line by using a condenser and a resistance. The condenser introduces something of the capacity effects which I told you were always present in a circuit formed by a pair of wires. [Illustration: Fig 131] At the other telephone station let us duplicate this apparatus, using the same real line in both cases. Instead of just any generator of an alternating e. m. f. let us use a telephone transmitter. We connect the transmitter through a transformer. The system then looks like that of Fig. 131. When some one talks at station 1 there is no current through his receiver because it is connected to _c_ and _d_, while the e. m. f. of the transmitter is applied to _a_ and _b_. The transmitter sets up two electron streams between _a_ and _b_, and the stream which flows through the Z-side of the square goes out to station 2. At this station the electrons have three paths between _d_ and _b_. I have marked these by arrows and you see that one of them is through the receiver. The current which is started by the transmitter at station 1 will therefore operate the receiver at station 2 but not at its own station. Of course station 2 can talk to 1 in the same way. The actual set-up used by the telephone company is a little different from that which I have shown because it uses a single common battery at a central office between two subscribers. The general principle, however, is the same. [Illustration: Fig 132] It won't make any difference if we use equal inductance coils, instead of the R-resistances, and connect the transmitter to them inductively as shown in Fig. 132. So far as that is concerned we can also use a transformer between the receiver and the points _c_ and _d_, as shown in the same figure. [Illustration: Fig 133] We are now ready to put in radio equipment at station 2. In place of the telephone receiver at station 2 we connect a radio transmitter. Then whatever a person at station 1 says goes by wire to 2 and on out by radio. In place of the telephone transmitter at station 2 we connect a radio receiver. Whatever that receives by radio is detected and goes by wire to the listener at station 1. In Fig. 133 I have shown the equipment of station 2. There you have the connections for wire to radio and vice versa. One of the most interesting developments of recent years is that of "wired wireless" or "carrier-current telephony" over wires. Suppose that instead of broadcasting from the antenna at station 2 we arrange to have its radio transmitter supply current to a wire circuit. We use this same pair of wires for receiving from the distant station. We can do this if we treat the radio transmitter and receiver exactly like the telephone instruments of Fig. 132 and connect them to a square of resistances. One of these resistances is, of course, the line between the stations. I have shown the general arrangement in Fig. 134. You see what the square of resistances, or "bridge" really does for us. It lets us use a single pair of wires for messages whether they are coming or going. It does that because it lets us connect a transmitter and also a receiver to a single pair of wires in such a way that the transmitter can't affect the receiver. Whatever the transmitter sends out goes along the wires to the distant receiver but doesn't affect the receiver at the sending station. This bridge permits this whether the transmitter and receiver are radio instruments or are the ordinary telephone instruments. [Illustration: Fig 134] By its aid we may send a modulated high-frequency current over a pair of wires and receive from the same pair of wires the high-frequency current which is generated and modulated at the distant end of the line. It lets us send and receive over the same pair of wires the same sort of a modulated current as we would supply to an antenna in radio-telephone transmitting. It is the same sort of a current but it need not be anywhere near as large because we aren't broadcasting; we are sending directly to the station of the other party to our conversation. If we duplicate the apparatus we can use the same pair of wires for another telephone conversation without interfering with the first. Of course, we have to use a different frequency of alternating current for each of the two conversations. We can send these two different modulated high-frequency currents over the same pair of wires and separate them by tuning at the distant end just as well as we do in radio. I won't sketch out for you the tuned circuits by which this separation is made. It's enough to give you the idea. In that way, a single pair of wires can be used for transmitting, simultaneously and without any interference, several different telephone conversations. It takes very much less power than would radio transmission and the conversations are secret. The ordinary telephone conversation can go on at the same time without any interference with those which are being carried by the modulations in high-frequency currents. A total of five conversations over the same pair of wires is the present practice. This method is used between many of the large cities of the U. S. because it lets one pair of wires do the work of five. That means a saving, for copper wire costs money. Of course, all the special apparatus also costs money. You can see, therefore, that this method wouldn't be economical between cities very close together because all that is saved by not having to buy so much wire is spent in building special apparatus and in taking care of it afterwards. For long lines, however, by not having to buy five times as much wire, the Bell Company saves more than it costs to build and maintain the extra special apparatus. I implied a moment ago why this system is called a "carrier-current" system; it is because "the high-frequency currents carry in their modulations the speech significance." Sometimes it is called a system of "multiplex" telephony because it permits more than one message at a time. This same general principle is also applied to the making of a multiplex system of telegraphy. In the multiplex telephone system we pictured transmitting and receiving sets very much like radio-telephone sets. If instead of transmitting speech each transmitter was operated as a C-W transmitter then it would transmit telegraph messages. In the same frequency range there can be more telegraph systems operated simultaneously without interfering with each other, for you remember how many cycles each radio-telephone message requires. For that reason the multiplex telegraph system which operates by carrier-currents permits as many as ten different telegraph messages simultaneously. You remember that I told you how capacity effects rob the distant end of a pair of wires of the alternating current which is being sent to them. That is always true but the effect is not very great unless the frequency of the alternating current is high. It's enough, however, so that every few hundred miles it is necessary to connect into the circuit an audion amplifier. This is true of carrier currents especially, but also true of the voice-frequency currents of ordinary telephony. The latter, however, are not weakened, that is, "attenuated," as much and consequently do not need to be amplified as much to give good intelligibility at the distant receiver. [Illustration: Fig 135] In a telephone circuit over such a long distance as from New York City to San Francisco it is usual to insert amplifiers at about a dozen points along the route. Of course, these amplifiers must work for transmission in either direction, amplifying speech on its way to San Francisco or in the opposite direction. At each of the amplifying stations, or "repeater stations," as they are usually called, two vacuum tube amplifiers are used, one for each direction. To connect these with the line so that each may work in the right direction there are used two of the bridges or resistance squares. You can see from the sketch of Fig. 135 how an alternating current from the east will be amplified and sent on to the west, or vice versa. [Illustration: Fig 136] There are a large number of such repeater stations in the United States along the important telephone routes. In Fig. 136 I am showing you the location of those along the route of the famous "transcontinental telephone-circuit." This shows also a radio-telephone connection between the coast of California and Catalina Island. Conversations have been held between this island and a ship in the Atlantic Ocean, as shown in the sketch. The conversation was made possible by the use of the vacuum tube and the bridge circuit. Part of the way it was by wire and part by radio. Wire and radio tie nicely together because both operate on the same general principles and use much of the same apparatus. [Blank Page] INDEX A-battery for tubes, 42 Accumulator, 29 Acid, action of hydrogen in, 7 Air, constitution of, 10 Ammeter, alternating current, 206; calibration of, 53; construction of, 205 Ampere, 49, 54 Amplification, 182; one stage of, 185 Amplitude of vibration, 155 Antenna current variation, 141 Arlington tests, 233 Artificial telephone line, 252 Atom, conception of, 6; nucleus of, 10; neutral, 34 Atomic number, 13 Atoms, difference between, 12; kinds of, 6, 10; motion of, 35 Attenuation of current in wires, 259 Audibility meter, 218 Audio-frequency amplifier, 185; limitations of, 185 Audion, 35, 40, 42 Audion, amplifier, 182; detector, theory of, 126; modulator, 232; oscillator, theory of, 89; frequency control of, 99 B-battery for tubes, 43; effect upon characteristic, 128 Banked wound coils, 228 Battery, construction of gravity, 16; dry, 27; reversible or storage, 29 Band of frequencies, 249 Beat note, detection of, 221, 245 Bell system, Arlington transmitter, 249 Blocking of tube, reason for, 171 Blue vitriol, 16 Bridge circuit, 255 Bureau of Standards, 50 C-battery for tubes, 46, 166; variation of, 75; for detection, 66 Calibration of a receiver, 214 Capacity, effect upon frequency, 100; measurement of, 104; unit of, 104; variable, 107 Capacity effects, 243; elimination of, 228 Carrier current, modulation of, 146; telephony, 255 Characteristic, of vacuum tube, 68, 74; effect of B-battery upon, 128; how to plot a, 70 Characteristic curve of transformer, 64 Chemistry, 8 Choke coils, 210, 221 Circuit, A, B, C, 187; coupled, 115; defined, 43; oscillating, 113; plate, 45; short, 30; tune of a, 117 Condenser, defined, 77; charging current of, 78; discharge current of, 80; impedance of, 135; theory of, 78; tuning, 224 Common battery system, 254 Connection for wire to radio, 254 Continuous waves, 86 Copper, atomic number of, 13 Copper sulphate, in solution, 21 Crystals, atomic structure, 147 Crystal detectors, 146; characteristic of, 148; circuit of, 150; theory of, 147 Current, transient, 114; radio, 144 Cycle, 94, 97 Damped oscillations, 114 Demodulation, 231 Detection, explained, 146 Detectors, audion, 126; crystal, 146 Direct currents, 205 Dissociation, 22 Distortion, of wave form, 163 Dry battery, 27 Earth, atomic constitution, 11 Effective value, of ampere, 207; of volt, 207 Efficiency, of regenerative circuit, 182 Electrical charge, 22 Electricity, current of, 15, 16 Electrodes, of vacuum tube, 41; definition of, 41 Electrolyte, definition of, 34 Electrons, properties of, 4; planetary, 10, 12; rate of flow, 48; vapor of, 39; wandering of, 14 Electron streams, laws of attraction, 200 E. M. F., 59; alternating, 76; of self-induction, 238 Energy, expended in tube, 235; of electrons, 113; radiation of, 125 Ether, 88 Feed-back circuit, 182 Frequency, 98, 158; effect upon pitch, 133; interval, 247; natural, 117; of voice, 163 Fundamental note, of string, 157 Gravity battery, theory of, 23 Grid, action of, 47; condenser, 169; current, 173; leak, 171; leak, construction, 172, 216; of audion, 41 Harmonics, 160 Helium, properties of, 9 Henry, 83 Heterodyne, 181 Hot-wire ammeter, 51 Human voice, mechanism of, 152 Hydrogen, action of in acid, 7; atom of, 7 Impedance, of coil, 136; of condenser, 136; of transformer, 195; effect of iron core upon, 207; matching of, 196 Intermediate-frequency amplification, 242 Inductance, defined, 83; effect upon frequency, 100; impedance of, 135; mutual, 109; of coils, 101; self, 83; table of values, 227; unit of, 83; variable, 108 Induction, principle of, 208 Inducto-meter, 109 Input circuit, 187 Interference, 249 Internal resistance, 191 Ion, definition of, 19; positive and negative, 20, 21 Ionization, 20 Larynx, 153 Laws of attraction, 204 Loading coil, 224 Loop antenna, 198 Magnet, pole of, 203; of soft iron, 205; of steel, 205 Magnetism, 202 Matter, constitution of, 5 Megohm, 172 Microfarad, 104 Mil-ampere, 71 Mil-henry, 83 Modulation, 145, 230, 237, 239 Molecule, kinds of, 6; motion of, 35 [Greek: mu], 190 Multiplex telegraphy, 258; telephony, 258 Mutual inductance, 109; variation of, 110 Natural frequency, 161 Nitrogen, 10 Nucleus of atom, 10, 12 Ohm, defined, 64 Organ pipe, 160 Oscillations, 87; damped, 114; to start, 114; intensity of, 236; natural frequency of, 117 Output circuit, 187 Overtones, 159 Oxygen, percentage in air, 10 Phase, 180 Plate, of an audion, 41 Plunger type of instrument, 205 Polarity of a coil, 204 Power, defined, 234; electrical unit of, 235 Proton, properties of, 4 Radio current, modulation of, 145 Radio-frequency amplification, 243; limitations, 243 Radio-frequency amplifier, 186, 198 Radio station connected to land line, 254 Rating of tubes, 235 Reception, essential operations in, 235 Regenerative circuit, 176; frequency of, 179 Repeater stations, 261 Resistance, measurement of, 64; non-inductive, 103; square, 251 Resonance, 161 Resonance curve, 117 Retard coils, 210 Salt, atomic construction of, 17; crystal structure, 147; molecule in solution, 19; percentage in sea water, 11 Saturation, 38 Sea water, atomic constitution of, 11 Self-inductance, 83; unit of, 83 Side bands, 248; relation to wave lengths, 249 Silicon, percentage in earth, 11 Sodium chloride, in solution, 19 Sound, production of, 152 Speech, to transmit by radio, 230 Speed of light, 122 Standard cell, 58 Storage battery, 28, 30 Sulphuric acid, 22 Super-heterodyne, 242; advantages of, 242 Telephone receiver, 130; theory of, 131 Telephone transmitter, 142 Telephony, by wire, 253 Tickler coil, 182 Transcontinental telephone line, 261 Transmission, essential operations in, 230 Transmitter, Arlington, 233; continuous wave, 94, 119; for high power, 233 Transformer, 185; step-up, 193 Tubes, connected in parallel, 234 Tuning, curve, 117; sharp, 214; with series condenser, 224 Undamped waves (see continuous waves), 86 Vacuum tube, 35, 40; characteristics of, 67; construction of, 205; modulator, 239; three-electrode, 41; two-electrode, 42 Variometer, 108 Vibrating string, study of, 154 Vocal cords, 153 Voice frequencies, 163 Volt, definition of, 57; measurement of, 61 Voltmeter, calibration of, 62; construction of, 205 Watt, 235 Wave form, 182 Wave length, relation to frequency, 98, 122; defined, 122 Wire, inductance of, 104 Wire, movement of electrons in, 14; emission of electrons from, 37 Wire telephony, 253 Wired wireless, 255; advantages of, 257 X-rays, 147 Zero coupling, 177 Zinc, electrode for battery, 23 
31407	----	[Transcriber's Note: This ebook contains two manuals by Delco: Delco Radio Owner's Manual Model 633 and Delcotron Generator Installation. They are separated by a divider. In the list on pages 10 and 11 of Delco Radio Owner's Manual Model 633, the second station line for Tulsa (which is CFRB 690) has been removed, as it is believed to be an accidental reprinting of the following station line. Redundant headers and (foot)notes on these pages have also been removed.] DELCO RADIO OWNER'S MANUAL MODEL 633 INSTALLATION AND OPERATING INSTRUCTIONS This model of the Delco Radio is a six-tube super-heterodyne receiver designed for operation with a HEADER type speaker. It comprises the best in automotive radio engineering, featuring Syncro-Tuning--the newest, most efficient antenna circuit yet developed, and Sensitivity Control. The speaker and remote control unit are supplied in separate packages and are available in a wide variety of types and styles, depending upon the make and model of car the unit is to be used on. The package contains: _Part No._ 1 Receiver Unit, complete with tubes 1 Speaker Unit (less Adapter) 1210934 1 Combined Drilling Template and Radio--Dash Spacer 2 Chassis Mounting studs, 1/4--20 x 2-1/2 1207562 2 Chassis Mounting Shakeproof Washers 1208565 2 Chassis Mounting Nuts, 1/4--20 120375 1 Antenna Lead 1209622 1 Distributor Suppressor 1207818 1 Generator Condenser 1849014 1 Ammeter Condenser 1209333 INSTALLATION =Antenna--= See Instructions in antenna package. =Chassis--= This receiver may be installed on any car with Positive or Negative ground without any changes of wiring. When possible, locate the chassis on the driver's side of the dash, over the steering column, with the removable cover plate facing the floor. This position places the control shafts on the end of the case facing the center of the car. Locate the position of the mounting holes by means of the template included in the package. Drill the holes, using a 3/8" drill, and scrape the paint from around the holes on the engine side of the dash to insure a good ground connection as there is no other ground connection for this receiver. Make sure that all tubes and the vibrator are pushed well down in their sockets and that all the grid clips are properly in place on the top caps of their respective tubes. If a six-volt storage battery is available, check the receiver for normal operation before permanently installing it on the car. The antenna lead and control unit may be temporarily connected for this test. Insert the two receiver mounting studs in the back of the receiver case with the "burred" threads nearest the receiver to make sure that these studs do not enter the case far enough to cause damage to the receiver parts. Install the receiver, using the drilling template as a spacer between the dash and the receiver case. Install the two shakeproof washers over the chassis mounting studs. Then tighten the mounting nuts to insure that the receiver case shall be thoroughly grounded to the dash. =Antenna Lead--= Attach the black antenna lead to the car antenna and plug the connector on the antenna lead into the receiver chassis as shown in the Installation Diagrams. Ground the pigtail of the antenna lead shield to a convenient body bolt. Keep antenna lead out of engine compartment to avoid possibility of ignition interference being picked up by the lead-in. =Speaker--= See Instructions in speaker package. =Remote Control Unit--= See Instructions in remote control package. CONTROL UNIT ADJUSTMENT The volume control and station selector shafts are AUTOMATICALLY adjusted as follows: 1. Insert control cables in their respective bushings on the case (volume control is upper bushing when receiver is installed in the car), until they seat themselves and then tighten the set screws. 2. Turn the station selector knob to the right (clockwise) until it stops--then turn the knob counter-clockwise until it stops. The dial is now logged. 3. Turn the volume control knob clockwise until the knob turns hard. The volume control is now on full. =Eliminating Motor Interference--= Connect the ammeter condenser to the spring clip at the end of the wire containing the fuse holder by means of the self-threading screw on the side of the spring clip. Ground the other terminal of the condenser at any convenient point. Install the generator condenser on the generator side of the generator cut-out as shown in the Diagram of Connections. DO NOT connect the flexible lead to the field terminal of the generator. Remove the center distributor lead and insert the distributor suppressor in its place. Then plug the distributor lead into the suppressor. =Adjusting Delco Syncro-Tuning--= Turn the receiver on. Tune-in a radio station which logs between 55 and 65 on the dial and gives the radio a signal BARELY AUDIBLE in the speaker WITH the VOLUME control FULL ON. A small snap button cap is located in the end of the receiver case beside the antenna lead connection. Remove the snap button cap by prying with a small screw driver. By means of a small screw driver inserted in the hole which was covered by the small cap, adjust the Delco Syncro-Tuning condenser unit for maximum output in the speaker. Remaining on same station, readjust station selector for maximum volume and readjust the Delco Syncro-Tuning Condenser unit for maximum output. No further adjustment of this unit will be necessary as the receiver is now adjusted for best operation with your car antenna. Replace the snap button cap. OPERATION =To Turn On Receiver--= Some control units have a small knob located below the center of the dial. If your receiver is equipped with this type of control push this small knob in as far as it will go. Other control units have a combination on-off switch and volume control knob. To turn on this type of control turn the knob clockwise until the switch clicks and the dial is illuminated. =Volume Control--= Turning the volume control knob toward the right increases the output of the receiver and turning it toward the left reduces the output. =How To Tune The Receiver--= Turn the volume control knob approximately half way to the right. Rotate the station selector knob slowly until a station is heard. Tune this station in until the minimum amount of background noise is heard. Increase or decrease the volume to the desired level by adjusting the volume control knob. Careful tuning will result in better tone quality from all stations. If the program being received is from a powerful local station local interference may be practically eliminated by turning the sensitivity control to the LOCAL position. You then will get the best possible reproduction of that station's program. [Illustration: =INSTALLATION DIAGRAMS= GROUND TO DASH CASE SPACER AND DRILLING TEMPLATE DASH AMMETER CLIP AMMETER CONDENSER NO. 1209333 ANTENNA LEAD (BLACK) VOLUME CONTROL BUSHING FUSE TO COIL REMOVE SNAP BUTTON CAP TO ADJUST ANTENNA COMPENSATING CONDENSER STATION SELECTOR BUSHING DISTRIBUTOR SUPPRESSOR NO. 1207818 GROUND TO CAR POWER LEAD SENSITIVITY CONTROL TONE CONTROL ARMATURE TERMINAL DO NOT CONNECT TO FIELD TERMINAL VOLUME CONTROL STATION SELECTOR GENERATOR CONDENSER 1849014 SUGGESTED GENERATOR CONDENSER CONNECTIONS ON-OFF SWITCH] =Sensitivity Control--= The sensitivity control is located on the lower, left front corner of the receiver case and when turned to the LOCAL position it decreases the sensitivity of the receiver sufficiently to greatly reduce interference from street cars, electric signs, X-Ray machines, electrical machinery, power lines, etc. It will also eliminate interference from weak stations. When the control is turned to the DISTANCE position the receiver is allowed to operate at maximum sensitivity. =Tone Control--= The tone control is located on the lower, right front corner of the receiver case. This control is to be adjusted at the operator's will. However, most experienced operators prefer to set it for maximum treble response when the car is operated at high speeds. =To Turn Off The Receiver--= If the control head has a key knob in the center pull the knob out until it clicks into the off position and the receiver ceases to operate. If you wish to lock the receiver, pull the knob all the way out of the control unit and carry it with you. If you are using the type of control unit which has a combination on-off switch and volume control knob turn the knob to the left until the receiver ceases to operate. SERVICE Should your receiver fail to operate, first check the fuse located in the fuse holder in the ammeter cable. If you wish to remove your tubes and vibrator for test purposes, their location is indicated below. [Illustration: _Tube Complement_ 2 Type 6D6 1 Type 6A7 1 Type 6B7 1 Type 6B5 1 Type 84] Any further service work on your receiver should be referred to a competent radio service station. When at home call your local DEALER................................. AT..................................... TELEPHONE.............................. DATE RADIO INSTALLED................... PRINCIPAL BROADCAST STATIONS[A] ARRANGED ALPHABETICALLY BY CITIES =Abilene, Kans.= KFBI 1050 =Albuquerque, N. M.= KOB 1180 =Alexandria, Va.= WJSV 1460 =Amarillo, Tex.= KGRS 1410 WDAG 1410 =Ames, Iowa= WOI 640 =Asheville, N. C.= WWNC 570 =Atlanta, Ga.= WSB 740 =Atlantic City, N. J.= WPG 1100 =Baltimore, Md.= WBAL 1060 =Belle Plaine (Moose Jaw), Sask.= CJRM 540 =Billings, Mont.= KGHL 950 =Birmingham, Ala.= WAPI 1140 =Bismarck, N. D.= KFYR 550 =Boise, Idaho= KIDO 1350 =Boston, Mass.= WBZ 990 WBZA 990 WEEI 590 WHDH 830 WNAC 1230 =Brookings, S. D.= KFDY 550 =Brooklyn, N. Y.= WBBR 1300 =Buffalo, N. Y.= WBEN 900 WGR 550 WKWB 1480 =Chattanooga, Tenn.= WDOD 1280 =Chicago, Ill.= WBBM 770 WCFL 970 WENR 870 WGN 720 WJJD 1130 WLS 870 WMAQ 670 WMBI 1080 KYW 1020 =Charlotte, N. C.= WBT 1080 =Cincinnati, Ohio= WLW 700 =Clay Center, Nebr.= KMMJ 740 =Cleveland, Ohio= WHK 1390 WTAM 1070 =Colorado Springs, Col.= KVOR 1270 =Council Bluffs, Ia.= KOIL 1260 =Covington, Ky.= WCKY 1490 =Dallas, Tex.= KRLD 1040 WFAA 800 =Denver, Colo.= KLZ 560 KOA 830 =Des Moines, Ia.= WOC 1000 =Detroit, Mich.= WWJ 920 WJR 750 WXYZ 1240 =Eau Claire, Wis.= WTAQ 1330 =Edmonton, Alta.= CJCA 730 =Elmira, N. Y.= WESG 1040 =Fargo, N. D.= WDAY 940 =Fayetteville, Ark.= KUOA 1260 =Fort Wayne, Ind.= WOWO 1160 =Fort Worth, Tex.= KTAT 1240 WBAP 800 =Gainesville, Fla.= WRUF 830 =Gary, Ind.= WIND 560 =Great Falls, Mont.= KFBB 1280 =Harrisburg, Pa.= WBAK 1430 =Hartford, Conn.= WDRC 1330 WTIC 1060 =Havana, Cuba= CMCQ 780 CMK 730 CMW 590 CMX 890 =Hollywood, Cal.= KFWB 950 =Honolulu, Hawaii= KGU 750 =Hot Springs National Park, Ark.= KTHS 1040 =Houston, Tex.= KPRC 920 =Indianapolis, Ind.= WFBM 1230 =Jackson, Miss.= WJDX 1270 =Jacksonville, Fla.= WJAX 900 =Kalamazoo, Mich.= WKZO 590 =Kansas City, Mo.= KMBC 950 WDAF 610 WOQ 1300 =Knoxville, Tenn.= WNOX 560 =La Crosse, Wis.= WKBH 1380 =La Prairie (Montreal), Que.= CRCM 910 =Lawrence, Kans.= WREN 1220 =Lansing, Mich.= WKAR 1040 =Lincoln, Nebr.= KFAB 770 =Little Rock, Ark.= KLRA 1390 =Long Beach, Cal.= KFOX 1250 KGER 1360 =Los Angeles, Cal.= KECA 1430 KFAC 1300 KFI 640 KHJ 900 KNX 1050 =Louisville, Ky.= WAVE 940 WHAS 820 =Lulu Island (Vancouver Island), B. C.= CRCV 1100 =Madison, Wis.= WHA 940 =Mexico City, Mexico= XEB 1030 XEN 711 XEW 910 XFG 638 XFI 818 XEFO 940 XETR 610 =Miami Beach, Fla.= WMBF 1300 =Miami, Fla.= WIOD 1300 WQAM 560 =Milwaukee, Wis.= WTMJ 620 =Minneapolis, Minn.= WCCO 810 WDGY 1180 WLB 1250 WRHM 1250 =Montreal, Que.= CKAC 730 =Nashville, Tenn.= WLAC 1470 WSM 650 =Newark, N. J.= WAAM 1250 WNEW 1250 WOR 710 =New Orleans, La.= WDSU 1250 WWL 850 =New York, N. Y.= WABC 860 WEAF 660 WFAB 1300 WJZ 760 WLWL 1100 WOV 1130 =Norfolk, Nebr.= WJAG 1060 =Northfield, Minn.= WCAL 1250 =Oakland, Cal.= KLX 880 =Oklahoma, Okla.= WKY 900 KOMA 1480 =Omaha, Nebr.= WOW 590 =Ottawa, Ont.= CRCO 880 =Philadelphia, Pa.= WCAU 1170 =Piedras Negras, Coahuila= XEPN 585 =Pittsburgh, Pa.= KDKA 980 WCAE 1220 WJAS 1290 =Portland, Me.= WCSH 940 =Portland, Ore.= KEX 1180 KGW 620 KOIN 940 =Pullman, Wash.= KWSC 1220 =Raleigh, N. C.= WFTF 680 =Reading, Pa.= WEEU 830 =Reynosa, Tamaulipas= XEAW 956 =Richmond, Va.= WRVA 1110 =Rochester, N. Y.= WHAM 1150 =Salt Lake City, Utah= KDYL 1290 KSL 1130 =San Antonio, Tex.= KTSA 1290 WOAI 1190 =San Diego, Cal.= KFSD 600 KGB 1330 =San Francisco, Cal.= KFRC 610 KGO 790 KPO 680 KTAB 560 KYA 1230 =San Juan, Puerto Rico= WKAQ 1240 =Schenectady, N. Y.= WGY 790 =Seattle, Wash.= KJR 970 KOL 1270 KOMO 920 KTW 1220 =Shreveport, La.= KTBS 1450 KWKH 850 =Sioux City, Iowa= KSCJ 1330 =Sioux Falls, S. D.= KSOO 1110 =Spokane, Wash.= KFPY 1340 KGA 1470 KHQ 590 =Stevens Point, Wis.= WLBL 900 =St. Joseph, Mo.= KFEQ 680 =St. Louis, Mo.= KMOX 1090 KWK 1350 WEW 760 =St. Paul, Minn.= KSTP 1460 =Strathmore (Calgary), Alta.= CFCN 1030 =Superior, Wis.= WEBC 1290 =Syracuse, N. Y.= WFBL 1360 =Tallmadge, Ohio= WADC 1320 =Tampa, Fla.= WDAE 1220 =Toledo, Ohio= WSPD 1340 =Topeka, Kans.= WIBW 580 =Toronto, Ont.= CRCT 960 =Tulsa, Okla.= KVOO 1140 =Twp. of Kingston (Toronto), Ont.= CFRB 690 =Villa Acuna, Coahuila= XER 735 =Wheeling, W. Va.= WWVA 1160 =Wichita, Kans.= KFH 1300 =Windsor, Ont.= CKLW 840 =Winnipeg, Man.= CKY 910 =Yankton, S. D.= WNAX 570 =York, Pa.= WORK 1000 =Zion, Ill.= WCBD 1080 [A] Stations listed include only those of 1000 watts power (or higher). NOTE: Numbers following call letters indicate approximate dial setting. WARRANTY (_This Warranty not applicable outside U.S.A._) Your Delco Radio Carries the Same Guarantee As Your Car "The manufacturer warrants each new radio receiving set manufactured by it to be free from defects in material and workmanship under normal use and service, its obligation under this warranty being limited to making good at its factory or designated Branches any part or parts thereof which shall within ninety (90) days or 4,000 miles whichever expires first, after installation of such auto radio receiving set for the original purchaser, be returned to it with transportation charges prepaid and which its examination shall disclose to its satisfaction to have been thus defective; this warranty being expressly in lieu of all other warranties expressed or implied and of all other obligations or liabilities on its part, and the manufacturer neither assumes nor authorizes any other person to assume for it any other liability in connection with the sale of its products." "This warranty shall not apply to any radio receiving set which shall have been repaired or altered outside manufacturer's authorized Service Stations in any way so as in the judgment of the manufacturer to affect its stability, or on parts not made or authorized by the manufacturer have been used for replacement or other purposes, nor which has been subject to misuse, negligence, or accident." UNITED MOTORS SERVICE, INC. DETROIT, MICH. Form No. 2095 Printed in U. S. A. =========================================================================== =========================================================================== Delco Rebuilt 1 55-D Delcotron Generator 1845985 Rebuilt by Delco-Remy. Division of General Motors, Anderson, Indiana, 46011 Made in U.S.A. 275829 Printed in U.S.A. 12-17-71 DR-7086 INSTALLING SERVICE DELCOTRON® GENERATOR 1. DISCONNECT GROUNDED CABLE FROM BATTERY. 2. If it is necessary to rotate the slip ring end frame to match the unit being replaced, remove the thru bolts, separate frames just far enough to rotate to desired position and replace thru bolts. CAUTION: Separating the end frame too far causes the brushes to drop on to the greased shaft. If this happens, remove end frame completely, clean brushes with clean cloth, reassemble springs and brushes retaining them in position with a pin (toothpick). Remove pin after frames are reassembled. WHEN INSTALLING DELCOTRON® GENERATOR WITH INTEGRAL REGULATOR, THE SLIP RING END FRAME MOUNTING BRACKET IS NOT NEEDED. 3. When reusing the original fan, pulley and collar, tighten shaft nut to 40 to 60 lb. ft. If torque wrench is not available, insert a 5/16" hex wrench in end of shaft and tighten nut until the spring washer is just flattened. 4. Install Delcotron® Generator and check belt tension, mounting bolt tightness and make sure all electrical connections are clean and secure. IMPORTANT: Never operate the Delcotron® Generator without being connected to the battery. Never attempt to polarize the Delcotron® Generator. DELCO-REMY Division of General Motors Anderson, Indiana BPI 
35987	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 35987-h.htm or 35987-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/35987/35987-h/35987-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/35987/35987-h.zip) THE RADIO BOYS SEARCH FOR THE INCA'S TREASURE [Illustration: The radio outfit paralleled an army field outfit in a number of respects, including the umbrella type of aerial.] THE RADIO BOYS' SEARCH FOR THE INCA'S TREASURE by GERALD BRECKENRIDGE Author of "The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border," "The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty," "The Radio Boys with the Revenue Guards," "The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition." Frontispiece A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers--New York THE RADIO BOYS SERIES A Series of Stories for Boys of All Ages By GERALD BRECKENRIDGE The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty The Radio Boys with the Revenue Guards The Radio Boys' Search for the Inca's Treasure The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition Copyright, 1922 By A. L. Burt Company The Radio Boys' Search for the Inca's Treasure Made in "U. S. A." CONTENTS I--OFF FOR TREASURE II--A TALE OF OLD III--A COUNTRY FESTIVAL IV--HO FOR THE ENCHANTED CITY! V--RADIO INVADES THE MONASTERY VI--A SENDING STATION BUILT VII--THE EXPEDITION GETS UNDER WAY VIII--JACK HAS A MISHAP IX--SURPRISED IN THE FOREST X--IN THE HANDS OF THE INCAS XI--INTO THE MOUNTAIN XII--IMPRISONED IN THE ACROPOLIS XIII--THE FEAST OF RAYMI XIV--PRINCE HUACA FRIENDLY XV--BEFORE THE COUNCIL XVI--RADIO A LINK TO THE PAST XVII--THE FIGHT ON THE PARAPET XVIII--ARMED AGAIN XIX--TREACHERY XX--FRANK PLANS A MIRACLE XXI--TO GO OR NOT TO GO XXII--INTO THE INCA'S COURT XXIII--THE OLD AND THE NEW XXIV--THE MIRACLE WORKER XXV--A VOICE WARNS THE INCA XXVI--THE MOUNTAIN SPEAKS XXVII--THE DOOMED CITY XXVIII--CONCLUSION THE RADIO BOYS SEARCH FOR THE INCA'S TREASURE. CHAPTER I--OFF FOR TREASURE "This is a wonderful land, fellows, full of legend and story, vast mountains, vast rivers, vast jungles, unexplored territory and unconquered tribes." It was Jack Hampton speaking, and he leaned on the rail of a coastwise steamer, as she came to anchor in the open roadstead of Valparaiso. "I wonder what lies ahead," said Frank Merrick, leaning beside him. "We ought to get some adventure out of this, besides mere civilized travel." Even Bob Temple, the most matter-of-fact of the three chums known as the Radio Boys, felt his imagination stirred. "Remember what that commercial traveler said last night," he interposed. "I mean, about the old days of the Spanish Conquest of South America? He certainly was filled with stories of treasure, of Inca treasure, wasn't he?" The other boys nodded, their eyes shining. Indeed, Juan Lopez, the young commercial traveler, who had taken a fancy to the boys, had told them glittering stories as they sat on deck under the Moon. Then they fell silent, their eyes on the strange scenes about them. Although a great world port, and second only to San Francisco in importance on the Pacific Coast of the Western Hemisphere, Valparaiso is not a harbor as harbors go, lying open to the sea. Great numbers of ships lay about them offshore, freighters from all the world. And tugs and lighters kept coming and going in a continuous bustle between ships and shore. As their train for Santiago, whither Mr. Hampton was bound on business, would leave in an hour, there was little time for sightseeing. Mr. Hampton, who knew the South American cities from former visits, on one of which he had taken Jack with him, assured them there was little in Valparaiso of historic or picturesque interest. Nevertheless, the boys kept their eyes open during the trip through the narrow but noisy bustling business quarter which occupies the flats between the shore line and the thousand-foot cliffs behind upon which residential Valparaiso is situated. Ascensors took them up the sheer cliffs, and then followed a four-hour journey by train to Santiago. They were expected, and at the Santiago station they were met by a family carriage which carried them to the home of Senor Don Ernesto de Avilar, with whom Mr. Hampton had come to transact business. With true Spanish hospitality, the latter on receiving word of his coming, had written urgently that he do not stop to a hotel, but bring the three boys with him as guests. The way to the mansion of Senor de Avilar lay along the Alameda, a boulevard 600 feet wide, which formerly had been the bed of the Mapocho River, and as they bowled along the boys exclaimed time and again at the wonderful beauty of the surroundings and of the handsome residences. Frank and Bob, who were undergoing great changes in their preconceived notions of South America as a land of ruins and half-breeds, were especially astonished. Jack, who had been in this part of the world before, grinned with satisfaction. "I didn't tell you fellows much about this before," he said. "I wanted to see your eyes pop out. Thought you were going to run into something wild and savage, didn't you? Well, this is the most beautiful residential city in South America, and one of the most beautiful in the world. Isn't it, father?" he appealed. Mr. Hampton nodded. "Santiago and Rio de Janeiro hold the palm in that respect," he said. "Rio, however, because of its wonderful harbor and mountainous surroundings is, in my eyes at least, a bit the more beautiful. Yet, as you can see, Santiago's natural beauties would be hard to surpass. However, here we are at Senor de Avilar's home. Let us hope the accident to his son has not been serious. In that case, we cannot stay, as we would embarrass the family, but will go to a hotel." They had expected Senor de Avilar to greet them in person on arrival, but had been told by the driver that at the last moment the latter had been called to a point outside the city where his son, Ferdinand, had been injured when thrown from a runaway horse. Fortunately, it developed, the accident had not proven serious. The young son of the house, a youth of their own age, had sustained a fractured wrist, but otherwise had escaped unharmed. He was a charming boy with a fairly good command of English, and he and the boys became warm friends during the ensuing week. As Jack, owing to his previous visit to South America, on which occasion he had learned the language, could speak and read Spanish fluently, and as he had imparted considerable knowledge of the language to Frank and Bob, the four got along famously. Horseback rides about the city and its environs were of daily occurrence, young de Avilar managing his mount in superb fashion despite the injured wrist. During the week, the boys saw little of Mr. Hampton and Senor de Avilar. The two older men were closeted in long conferences with others every day. For a number of reasons, the boys were curious to know the nature of these conferences. In the first place, at the beginning of their summer vacation from Yale, Mr. Hampton, a consulting engineer of international reputation, had called Jack into his study in their home on Long Island, adjoining the Temple home at which Frank, an orphan, resided, and had smiled a little as he said: "Well, Jack, how would you and the boys like to go with me hunting treasure this summer?" Hunt treasure? Jack's eyes began to shine. Then his father explained that he had received an urgent invitation from Senor de Avilar to cast in his fortunes with him on an expedition into the fastnesses of the Bolivian mountains in search of a horde reputed buried by the ancient Incas. "I don't know whether anything will come of it, Jack, in the way of fortune," his father had said, "but at least we will have plenty of adventurous travel. As you know, I am wealthy. The lure of gold does not draw me for itself. But, Jack, I'm very much afraid that in some respects I have never grown up. Buried treasure has a magical appeal; it captivates my imagination. "When I was in South America last, in connection with the mining interests developing a new district on the borders of Peru and Bolivia, I heard many tales of Inca treasure. Those old Indians had a great civilization, and if the Spanish conquerors under Pizarro, Almagro and others had treated the Incas decently, who knows what they would have given the world. But the conquistadores were rapacious for gold, of which there are vast stores in the mountains of South America, and they slew merely to rob and thus wiped out one of the fairest races the world has ever seen. The Incas undoubtedly hid much of their golden treasures to keep it from falling into the clutches of the conquerors. "Senor de Avilar is the head of the syndicate using my services at that time. And many a legend of Inca treasure did he tell me, for he, too, has felt the thrill. His imagination, like mine, is stirred by these departures from a workaday world. Now he writes me that he has come into possession of an ancient manuscript which he believes genuine. It purports to be the diary of a conquistadore who was captured by a band of Inca noblemen who fled far to the southward when the Spaniards invaded their country, and carried him captive with them. There is much of treasure buried in the Bolivian Andes because of the difficulties of transportation, and more of a magical city which the Incas founded in the south. This latter may have been the Enchanted City of the Caesars, the story of which I shall tell you some later day. "At any rate, my good friend says he wants to be a boy again and to hunt for buried treasure. And he knows that I feel as he does, and offers me the chance to go along. Many men might consider me foolish, Jack, to engage in such a fantastic expedition. But your mother has been dead these many years; you and I are alone in the world; I have made a fortune big enough to take care of you for life, even if I do not add another cent to it. And I am a young man yet. Jack, I want to go. How about it?" "How about it?" Jack gulped. He and this tall man with the twinkling eyes, and the figure as slender and hard as a boy's, called each other father and son. But in reality they were pals. Jack stared a moment, his eyes alight, then emitted a little gasp of pure joy, and jumping up from his chair, he threw an arm over his father's shoulders. "Dad," he gulped, "I'd never forgive you if you didn't take the chance." A hard squeeze of his hand was his father's reply. "You said something about Frank and Bob?" "Yes," said Mr. Hampton. "They have finished their Freshman year at Yale, and they are strong, capable fellows, able to think rapidly and clearly in an emergency, as they have demonstrated many times. I am thinking of asking Mr. Temple to let them go with me." "Hurray," shouted Jack. "Let me go tell them the news." And he was off like a shot. Mr. Temple had proved amenable. His big son, Bob, six feet tall and broad and powerful of frame, was destined eventually to go into the importing firm of which he was president. So, too, was his ward, Frank, son of his former business partner. South American experience, and the knowledge of customs of that part of the world which they would gain on such an expedition as proposed, would be invaluable to both. Under Mr. Hampton's care, moreover, they would be in good hands. Therefore, although shaking his head laughingly over Mr. Hampton's boyish enthusiasm, Mr. Temple was glad to acquiesce and to let his boys go. This was the reason, therefore, that the boys waited curiously for the outcome of that week of conferences between Mr. Hampton and Senor de Avilar, a week during which various strange men came and went. The boys saw little of the older men, and on the few occasions when he did obtain an opportunity to question his father, Jack was put off until a later date, when everything would be explained. Meanwhile, Mr. Hampton said, he was studying maps, talking with guides from the district into which the expedition would penetrate and had his head filled with plans. "I haven't the time to detach myself from this business to give you a connected story, Jack," said he, on one of the few occasions when he was alone with his son for a brief period. "But contain yourself, and presently everything will be explained." Young de Avilar knew of the proposed expedition, too, but he knew no more about it than Jack. He had been absent until recently in attendance at the University of Lima, for, though there is an ancient institution of learning at Santiago, his father was by birth a Peruvian who had attended the University of Lima, and the son followed in his steps. All four boys, therefore, were naturally eager to learn the outcome of the conferences. While waiting, the three North Americans had their interest strung to concert pitch by treasure legends which Ferdinand told them. He, in turn, was eager to hear what to him were even more marvellous stories of the scientific wonders of their own country. In particular, he was eager to learn about the developments of radio, which he had heard was in general use in the United States but which, as yet, had made few advances in Santiago. "I'll tell you what," said Jack, one day. "Suppose we set up a radio station here at your town home, and another at your country place. The distance is only twenty-five miles. With batteries and a spark coil, we can easily send that distance, certainly in this mountain atmosphere. I've got an outfit in my trunk, which I packed along in the belief that it would come in handy in the field on an expedition." Ferdinand was enthusiastic, and in a short time the two stations were installed, and the young Chilian was instructed in the mysteries of radio. CHAPTER II--A TALE OF OLD Of all the stories of ancient days in South America which Ferdinand de Avilar told them, none interested the boys so much as the tale of the city of Chan Chan. This city was the capital of the Great Chimu, ruler of a mighty empire that antedated the Incas. "You see," explained Ferdinand, early in their acquaintance, "my father always has been greatly interested in the ancient history of our land. He has in his library all the books containing the old legends and history, and naturally I have devoured them. At one time when I was younger, he financed an archaeological expedition that explored the ruins of Chan Chan. "It is little known to the outside world, he says, that, great and mighty as they were, the Incas were not the first great civilized people of South America. Before they poured down from the Andes to conquer the Pacific coast, there dwelt here a powerful and highly civilized people called the Chimus. "Inland from Salaverry, on the Peruvian coast, was the capital of the Great Chimu, the city of Chan Chan. It was one of the largest cities of the old world, perhaps the largest, who knows. It covered more than forty square miles of territory, and was larger than Babylon. Here the Chimus had great factories for the manufacture of textiles, pottery, etc. Their artificers in gold and silver were cunning and skilled. "Vast wealth was theirs, vaster even than that of the Incas. There were great palaces and temples in Chan Chan that were repositories for the choicest, the most glittering works of art in gold and silver. They had a language that had attained a high degree of culture, a literature that included poetry and drama. Fragments of their writing have been found, and it resembled that of the ancient Egyptians. "Then the conquering Incas, having brought the Andean people under their sway, came to the land of the Chimus. The Incas were the Romans of this land, the warriors and conquerors. But the Chimus, too, were warriors, and the struggle between these two great nations was long and bitter. At last the Chimu armies, however, were forced back to the protection of the great walls of Chan Chan. "Long was the siege. Attack after attack was repelled. Finding they could not carry Chan Chan by storm, the Incas at length hit upon a device which had won them many a walled city. They cut off the water supply of Chan Chan. Lofty aqueducts had been built by the Chimu kings to bring water from the mountains more than a hundred miles away, and within the city this water was stored in a great reservoir larger than any ever built by the Romans. "The Incas cut off this water supply. Gradually the vast population penned within the walls of Chan Chan absorbed all the water in the reservoir. The wells which had been digged within the city were insufficient. The Chimus were forced to surrender. "But before the end, the Great Chimu foresaw the coming of defeat. He resolved to bury the Great Treasure of his dynasty. And this has never been found. Much of the tremendous wealth of the Incas was loot from the Chimus, but the Great Treasure escaped them. "When the Spaniards came," continued Ferdinand, "they learned the story of the Great Chimu and how he had hidden the Great Treasure. Into the ruined temples and palaces of Chan Chan and of other cities of the Chimu kingdom, they delved. Vast treasure thus was recovered, and sent to Spain. But the Great Treasure--no. This, says my father, has never been found." Seeing how eager the boys were to hear of these old tales, and nothing loth himself to talk about them, Ferdinand on another occasion repeated the legend of the "Enchanted City of the Caesars." "This story, so far as any public or semi-public record goes," he said, "was first made known through the sworn statements of two Spaniards who arrived in Concepcion, Chile, in 1557. They declared that for seventeen years they had lived in the Enchanted City. But while these statements gave details of the origin and existence of the Enchanted City, they supplied no accurate data for its location. Now, however, I have reason to believe, another statement has come to light, made by another member of de Arguello's little band, and giving more definite data. And it is this statement which my father possesses. "But I can see how eager you are, how puzzled by what I have said, and I shall begin at the beginning. That will be better, perhaps." And Ferdinand smiled at the three shining-eyed friends surrounding him. "To begin, then," he said, "it was in the days when Pedro de Valdivia was setting out from Peru to conquer this land of Chile, then a province of the overthrown Inca empire, that a galleon from Spain was wrecked on the coast of Tierra del Fuego at the southern tip of South America. That is a wild and inhospitable coast, devoid of verdure, where not even game is to be found. They must either march forward or die. "The captain of the band was Sebastian de Arguello. He had with him some 200 soldiers and sailors, thirty conquistadores or gentleman adventurers of Spain who sought fortune in Peru, three priests, and a score of women. "They were a thousand miles from the nearest Spanish settlements in northern Chile, but there was nothing to do if they would survive except attempt to reach them. "So the march began, through the great forests of arbor vitae and along those rugged, barren coasts. In those days, there were giants in the land. For that is Patagonia, and it is not so many years ago that the last of the giant Patagonians of ancient days passed away. They were real giants, six and a half feet tall, terrible fighters in guerrila warfare. Day and night they attacked from ambush, and dread, indeed, must have been the times when the Spaniards were forced to abandon the seacoast and attempt to thread the forest, for always the giants would be lying in wait. "At length, however, the little band won its way through Patagonia, with numbers reduced from the fighting, and seven of the women dead from the unendurable hardships of the march. Yet they had but conquered one danger to encounter a greater. They are now on the borders of Auraucania. "You do not know what that means. Ah, my friends, even today Auraucania is a land that is little known. For it is inhabited by the fiercest and most warlike of all the Indian peoples. The Incas found them so, and were never able to conquer them. The Spaniards, even with cannon, could do nothing against them. It is only within the last forty or fifty years that any white men have been permitted to enter their country. "Against the wild dash of Auraucanians, de Arguello's men, doughty though they were, could make no headway. A counsel was held. Rather than face decimation in an attempt to cut their way through Auraucania, the members of the band decided to skirt that savage land. Eastward, therefore, they struck toward the vast and towering wall of the Andes, with some hope of skirting Auraucania, and, if not that, then to settle where game and water abounded. "Suddenly one day they came into a valley glimmering with lakes, a broad valley ringed round by mountains, with fields that were irrigated and under cultivation, laborers working in them, but no farm-house in sight. These laborers fled to the forest in fright at the approach of the Spaniards, but one was taken captive and brought to de Arguello to be questioned. "To the starved and harried Spaniards, the prospect was fair, indeed. What a place in which to settle. Therefore, when the laborer was brought before de Arguello and the conquistadores, he was plied with questions as to the ownership of this land. Despite the fact that he was a laborer, the man had a proud bearing that arrested de Arguello's attention. 'Art thou not of the Inca blood?' he asked. Folding his arms, the man replied, 'I am.' "As to what then transpired, the account does not state. For you must remember it was written by men who were not leaders among the Spaniards, but men-at-arms. They were not in the counsel. At length, however, the laborer was seen to depart and to make his way across the valley and disappear into the mountains. Camp was pitched by a spring on the edge of the forest, and late in the afternoon the laborer returned. "De Arguello then gave orders that his return should be awaited, which he declared would not be until the following day, and set out with one of the priests and the laborer. All that night, the Spanish force lay under arms, not knowing what to expect. "But shortly after sunrise the next day de Arguello returned alone. He called his force about him, and addressed them. 'Men,' said he, in effect, 'within those towering mountains beyond this valley lies an enchanted city. It is all built of palaces of stone with roofs that shine like gold. Within those palaces is furniture of gold and silver. They are a very pleasant people who dwell there, Incas who have fled thither from Peru. "Their city is ringed round with terrible mountains, abounding in gold and precious stones, unscalable by an enemy. The only approach is through a tunnel they have cut through the flank of a mountain. From these broad fields they draw their sustenance. "This is the message they bid me bring to you: 'If it be peace, ye can mix and mingle with us. There be women ye can have to wife. If it be war, we trust in our fastnesses.' Men, what shall it be? "With one voice, they shouted, 'Peace!' "That," concluded Ferdinand, "is the tale of the Enchanted City of the Caesars, so-called because the Emperors of Spain were the modern Caesars by reason of the vastness of their empire." "And hasn't it ever been sought for?" asked Bob. "Surely, the Spaniards in their eagerness for treasure would not have overlooked such a story as that told by the two men." "You are right," said Ferdinand, nodding, "it was sought for. Expedition after expedition was sent out by the Viceroys of the Spanish provinces clear down to the War of Independence in the early nineteenth century, which freed South America from the yoke of Spain. But it was never found, and, although there are people who still believe it existed, it is generally supposed nowadays to be merely mythical." "And is it in search of this 'Enchanted City' that we are going?" asked Frank. "I don't know," answered Ferdinand. "But I believe the 'Enchanted City' figures in the manuscript which my father has obtained, and it may be that we go to look for it." CHAPTER III--A COUNTRY FESTIVAL The day following this retelling of the legend of the Enchanted City of the Caesars by Ferdinand, all four boys were called into conference by the two older men. To their unbounded delight, they were told that in a week or ten days they would set out for Potosi, the Bolivian city which is the center of the famous silver mining region whose discovery once startled the world. "Potosi," said Ernesto, "may be our starting point, but I must tell you that in all likelihood we shall conduct our activities in two widely separated regions. The ancient manuscript of which I have spoken to you, Ferdinand, and which Senor Hampton tells me he has mentioned to you others, gives us quite definite directions for our search. "It was written by a Spanish conquistadore who was with the expedition of Captain Sebastian de Arguello, of whom I understand Ferdinand has told you young fellows. This soldier of fortune never left the Enchanted City, according to his account, but married an Inca princess, and spent his remaining days in this city of wonders. From her and her relatives, he learned of the hidden horde in Bolivia which was cached before the band of Inca noblemen with their families and followers fled to the southward before the Conquerors. "As old age came upon him, he decided to write down an account of his adventures, of the wonders of the Enchanted City, and of the hidden wealth left behind by the migrating Incas. This, he wrote, he intended to entrust to one of the three priests of de Arguello. "The manuscript recently came into the hands of a relative of mine, who is the Superior of an Andine monastery in Southern Chile, and he, knowing my collector's passion for the old and mythical in our history, sent it to me as a curiosity. But to me it is more. I believe it genuine, and so I am persuaded does Senor Hampton. One of my relative's wandering monks, going among the Indians, was enabled to succor the Chief of a wild tribe in illness, and this manuscript in a battered and curiously wrought silver tube that had been handed down among the Indians for centuries, was given him as reward." The boys were shown the manuscript, which was written in purple ink upon sheepskin, or, at least, what they took to be sheepskin. Don Ernesto, however, was inclined to believe it was the skin of the alpaca, which is a wool-bearing animal of South America. So crabbed was the hand, and so curious the spelling and formation of the letters, that the boys, even Jack with his fine knowledge of Spanish, could make little of it. Ferdinand's eyes, however, glistened at this first sight of the manuscript, and he pored over it for hours. The two older men announced it would be necessary for them ere departing to visit Valparaiso for several days, and the boys were left to their own devices. However, the time was not to hang heavily on the hands of the boys, as barely had they been left alone than Ferdinand received an invitation from Adolfo Rodriguez, a friend living at Almahue, to visit him and witness a reception to a distinguished delegation of North Americans who were touring the South American republics. This delegation was aboard the special train leaving Santiago which the four youths boarded in the morning. Arriving at Almahue in the afternoon, the delegation was received at the Rodriguez country home, a beautiful mansion standing in the midst of a large park. Young Rodriguez, a slender, dark-eyed lad of Ferdinand's age, flew to greet them. "His mother is an Englishwoman," Ferdinand told them, in an aside. "And he has been to an English school. I have not seen him for some years." Greetings between the two friends were warm, and then the American lads were introduced. "How jolly," said young Rodriguez, "I thought this reception thing would be a bore. But with you fellows here, it will be a lark, after all. Come to my rooms, and you can prepare for dinner." On entering the great salon, Jack, Bob and Frank were surprised beyond measure. They found themselves in a profusion of palms, cypresses and willows, with chrysanthemums in prodigal profusion, the whole so tastefully arranged as to give the impression of a scene from fairyland. Music was played by hidden musicians during the dinner, and after the speeches there was to be a musicale. Young Rodriguez, however, managed to withdraw with his companions before the arrival of the speech-making. "After-dinner speeches are a beastly bore, always," he said emphatically. "I considered you fellows would be as glad to escape as I. Now these are your rooms, and you will find whatever you require. You have had a long day, and as there will be much to do and see tomorrow, I imagine you will want to get some sleep." With that he left them, taking with him Ferdinand. The boys realized young Rodriguez was eager to talk over old times with his chum, and that they would be up half the night chattering. Nevertheless, that was not hard to forgive, and as they really were tired by the unaccustomed scenes and bustle, they turned in after some comments on the dinner, and soon were sleeping soundly. The next day, the boys were up and about early, for young Rodriguez wanted them to breakfast with him before the visitors reached the table. They were surprised to learn the estate covered 15,000 hectares, and employed more than 400 tenants and laborers. With the visitors, the boys visited the schools of the estate, three in number, at one of which the boys and girls of the tenants were in attendance, and at the others the children of the laborers. Finding they could ride, young Rodriguez obtained them mounts from the stable, although the visiting delegation was taken about in carriages. They visited the beautiful church of the estate, inspected the model homes and recreation grounds for the overseers and laborers, and spent some time at the stables. Senor Rodriguez was a lover of horses, and with pride his son pointed out to the boys a number of race horses of famous pedigree. "My mother wanted me educated in England," he explained, "my father in South America. Finally, they struck a compromise. I was to be sent to an English school, but to a South American university. And so, Ferdinand, next year will find me with you at Lima." The other nodded with satisfaction. They had discussed this the night before. "You three fellows are chums," said Ferdinand, "and you can realize my delight." "At school in England," said young Rodriguez, looking at a famous racer which he had brought the boys to see, "they used to be surprised when I spoke of home. They imagined that everything in South America was savage beyond words." "To tell you the truth," said Bob, frankly, "I had false ideas about South America, too. These things you have been showing me, and others Ferdinand showed us in Santiago, make my head swim. I'm beginning to wonder where we can get adventure in a country like this." Ferdinand, who had told his chum of the proposed expedition, laughed heartily. So did Rodriguez. "My dear fellow," said the latter, "wait. You will encounter the mightiest mountains in the Western Hemisphere, mountains to dwarf your Rockies. You will disappear from all human habitation. You will cross trackless deserts; perhaps, you will find rivers never explored by white man. You may run foul of unconquered Indians. Perhaps, you may discover a new race. Anything is possible in this fascinating and little known land. All this that you see, all Santiago and Lima and our other cities--what, after all, is it? Nothing but the fringe of a vast continent. But, come, let us return, for this afternoon there will be something worth seeing." The prediction was borne out for, after luncheon, the band began to play and young folks from the estate appeared to dance the _cueca_. This is a dance peculiar to Chile, in which the dancers perform individually. It is reminiscent of other South American dances--the _bolero_, the _habanera_, the _bambuco_, the _jota_, the _torbellino_, and the _fandango_. It is danced with more grace and animation, and with deeper intensity than the _tango_, that dance peculiar to the Argentine. "Look at that little Spanish senorita, Jack," whispered Bob, mischievously, to his chum. "She certainly reminds me of your flame, Senorita Rafaela. Hey?" Jack grinned at his comrade's teasing. In reality, however, he never heard the name of Senorita Rafaela mentioned that he did not feel sentimental. And this dancing girl did have a coquettish lift of the fan, a twist of the head, a raising of the eyebrow, that reminded him of her. Senorita Rafaela, however, was far away, on the Mexican estate of her father, from whom Jack and Bob two years before had rescued Mr. Hampton when the latter was a political prisoner. It was no use to think of her now. After the dance at the home, four hundred tenants, mounted on splendid horses, many with handsome Spanish saddles and spurs of silver, escorted the party to a nearby spot where two platforms had been erected for dancing. Here the men, young and old, participated in foot and horse races. Then the young folks went to dancing, while many barbecue fires for the cooking of meat were lighted, wine was distributed, and the tenants made festa. It was a truly patriarchal scene, and one never to be forgotten. "This is a true example of life on the great Chilian estates," Ferdinand told the boys, on their way back to Santiago. CHAPTER IV--HO FOR THE ENCHANTED CITY! "But, father, we thought you intended first to explore this town of Potosi for the buried treasure left there by the fugitive Incas before they fled to the South," said Jack. "I know, Jack," Mr. Hampton explained, "but Don Ernesto and I have talked the matter over from every angle, and have decided against going to Potosi at this season. The summer months are January and February. And even in summer, it is bleak in that region. The hottest day ever recorded in Potosi went to only about 59 in the shade. The elevation is great; Potosi is built on top of a mountain, and there is no fuel. The mountains are bare of timber, and a camping expedition would run grave danger of freezing. "For three hundred years, Potosi has been the center of a silver mining region that has given up wealth seemingly without exhaustion. More than two billion ounces of silver have been taken from the mountain on which it stands, and the mines are still in operation. It is probably the most famous mountain in the world, this Cerro of Potosi. "It was from Bolivia," Mr. Hampton added, "that the Inca civilization started on its career of conquest. Combination of two Indian races, the _Aymares_ and the _Quibchuas_, the first warlike and the second industrious, the Inca nation absorbed other civilizations, brought wild tribes under subjection, and set up an empire remarkably like that of Rome. And yet," added Mr. Hampton, "there were earlier civilizations of which next to nothing is known, which also had reached a high state of development." He spoke not only of the Chimu civilization of which Ferdinand earlier had told the boys, but added that ruins on the shores of Lake Titicaca in Bolivia showed there was a civilization in that region antedating that of Egypt. "However," said he, "I digress. The point is that, because of the rigors of winter in Bolivia, we shall not try for the hidden Inca treasure but shall seek to make our way at once to the Enchanted City." The above conversation took place several days after the boys had returned from Almahue, and when Mr. Hampton and Senor de Avilar got back to Santiago. "The discovery of this manuscript," Mr. Hampton continued, "is what has lifted the legend of the Enchanted City out of the mythical. It may be a hoax, of course. There is always the possibility that someone went to infinite pains to perpetrate a joke. Yet the evidence is against that. Apparently the manuscript is very ancient. And Senor de Avilar's experts, to whom he has submitted it, say that the writing and spelling are those of an educated Spanish gentleman of the period of the Conquerors. There were few enough educated men at that time; Pizarro and Diego de Almagro, his comrade, you know, could neither read nor write. Yet there were educated men, of course, and one such must have been this Luis de Pereira, gentleman adventurer, wrecked with de Arguello. "Since two men, reaching Concepcion in 1557, first gave the outside world the tale of the Enchanted City, many expeditions have set forth in search of it. None were successful. At length, a century and a half later, Fray Menendez, a Franciscan explorer and missionary, after two years of systematic search, declared the story mythical. And that has come to be the general opinion. Yet early in the nineteenth century, silver drinking cups were found among a tribe of forest Indians in the south, and once more a party of explorers set out. This time, they started from Punta Arenas, in Patagonia, trying to follow northward the route pursued by de Arguello. They disappeared, were never heard of again." "Perhaps they reached the Enchanted City and stayed there," suggested Frank, who, like Jack and Bob, was listening with absorbed interest. "That may have been the case," said Mr. Hampton, "supposing, of course, that such a place existed. But, what I was going to say, was that the discovery of this manuscript of Luis de Pereira puts a new complexion on the matter. While he was not a geographer, and could not give latitude and longitude, yet he was a keen observer. And his manuscript gives very definite natural locations of mountains and river, by which we can be guided. Further, we know the Enchanted City lay on the southern borders of the land of the Auraucanos." "Oh," interrupted Jack, "those are the Indians, the great fighters, that Ferdinand told us about." "Yes," said his father, "and it is a good thing for us that they are more amenable today, or we would not even consider an expedition that would bring us into touch with them. They are the only unconquered people of South America." "And the Incas never conquered them, in spite of their powerful armies?" asked Jack, more in the hope of drawing out his father than by way of surprise, for the answer to his question Ferdinand earlier had given. "The Incas were a great people," said his father, not averse to informing the boys about a race with the modern descendants of whom they presently might come in contact, "but they could not conquer the Auraucanos. Neither could the Spaniards, despite armor and cannon. Not even the Chilians, with the improved weapons of modern times could conquer the Auraucanos. They are the finest tribe or race of Indians inhabiting the southern portion of the continent, and it is their intermarriage with the whites in the last forty or fifty years which has helped make Chile what it is today--a country with many qualities which distinguish it from its sister republics. "The Auraucanos were a nomad, pastoral race, numbering some 400,000 at the time of the Incas, some writers estimate. They were imbued with a high order of intelligence, and with a courage unsurpassed. The value of military organizations was appreciated by them. Indeed, in later years, of which we have record, they developed several very fine generals, military tacticians of a high order, such as Latuaro and Caupolican. Although nomads, they had a ruling family from time immemorial, and from this family the Chief always was drawn. The hereditary principle obtained, and the eldest son of a departed Chief ruled in his father's place unless he was incapable of assuming command of his fellow warriors, in which case the strongest and bravest warrior was selected. "When Valdivia, the conqueror of Chile, crossed the river Biobio and started to penetrate Auraucanian territory, the Auraucanos opposed his passage. In the beginning, in pitched battle, the Auraucanos with their bows and arrows, their stone tomahawks, and their wooden sabers edged with flint, were defeated by the mounted Spaniards, clad in armor. Then they took to the forest and adopted guerrilla tactics, picking off single Spaniards and small parties. Every foot of the way was contested, and when the Spaniards had penetrated a hundred miles south of the Biobio, the Auraucanos gathered in massed columns and by their daring, courage and disregard of death overwhelmed the Spaniards and annihilated them. "During the Colonial period, the Spaniards renewed the warfare at frequent intervals, but without success. The Indians had learned how to use the weapons which they had captured, and obtained repeated victories. In the end, the Spaniards made peace. The river Biobio was fixed as the boundary between Auraucania and the colony of Chile. "The Chilians also were unable to overcome the Auraucanos. In the end, however, in 1881, the Auraucanian tribal chiefs held a grand council, and decided to cast in their lot with the people who had overthrown the Spaniards. They incorporated themselves as citizens of Chile. Probably, German colonists had something to do with the change of attitude. For after the unsuccessful revolution of 1848 in Germany, a number of ardent German revolutionists fled to Chile and settled the city of Osorno, in Auraucanian territory. They intermarried with the Auraucanos, and today more German than Spanish is spoken in that part of Chile, and there are many German-language newspapers printed there." "Oh," said Jack, in a tone of disappointment, "then they are civilized Indians today." His father smiled. "That is one of the most flourishing parts of the Republic of Chile," he said. "Yet along the Andes, there is a branch of the Auraucanos that is still recalcitrant, and whose freedom no government has thought fit to challenge, because of the apparent barrenness of that mountainous country. However, that is the region into which we must penetrate. I don't know whether Ferdinand has told you, but old accounts of the Enchanted City declare that the Indians of the neighborhood were well paid by the Incas to preserve inviolate the secret of the location of their city. This tribe of recalcitrants may be those Indians." Frank had been sitting with his chin in his hand, thinking. Now he spoke up. "Do you think, Mr. Hampton, that there is any likelihood the Enchanted City is still flourishing?" he asked. "That it is still inhabited by descendants of the ancient Incas and the Spaniards?" "That is a hard question to decide, Frank," was the reply. "It would seem likely that if it continued to flourish, some of its sons would yearn to see the outside world, and would make the journey and bring forth news of his home. Inasmuch as nothing of the sort has occurred, the probability would seem to be that in some fashion or other the population was wiped out and the Enchanted City fallen to ruin and decay. "As I say, that seems by far the most likely supposition. It does not seem possible, in the first place, that a great city could continue in existence unknown to the rest of the world for centuries. Curiosity is one of the basic qualities of human nature. The older folks might be content to let well enough alone, to remain secluded and unknown in their city, ringed round by mountains, protected from intrusion by the great tunnel, by trackless forests, arid deserts and staggering precipices. But the more adventurous younger spirits, as I say, would want to know what lay over the hills, and would adventure forth." "But what would wipe them out?" asked Bob, always the practical. Mr. Hampton shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps a plague. Perhaps the Auraucanos. Who knows? Maybe, some cataclysm of nature like an earthquake. There are cities in South America today that we know of, which were ruined in a matter of minutes, by earthquake. "No, the probabilities all are that, if we do find the Enchanted City, we will find it in ruins and uninhabited except by wild beasts. Yet what a wonderful experience it would be to explore those ruins, and what treasure would be stored there." Frank nodded. "Just the same," he said, "I'd like the experience of stepping out of the present into the past, of walking from a mechanical civilization into an Inca city." CHAPTER V--RADIO INVADES THE MONASTERY Preparations for departure from Santiago did not occupy long, as it was not intended the expedition should be outfitted at the Chilian capital. On the contrary, the starting point was to be the isolated Andine monastery, presided over by Don Ernesto's relative, who had obtained and forwarded the old manuscript of Luis de Pereira. "At this old monastery," he told the boys, "we shall spend some time going over maps, talking with missionary monks who have penetrated portions of the wild region into which we plan to march, and gathering our expedition together. Our winter, which corresponds in point of time to your summer, is drawing to a close. By the time we are ready to move, spring will have come, and we can travel without too great inconvenience due to the weather. "Your father," he explained to Jack, "regrets delaying your return to college, but he feels that such an expedition will be worth a great deal to you and your friends." Mr. Hampton nodded. "If all goes well," he added, "you fellows will get back to Yale after the Christmas vacation. Even if you were to miss a whole year of class work, it would be worth while merely for this unusual experience." With this the boys were in hearty agreement. Farewells, then, were said to Santiago. The party, consisting of the two older men, the four boys and two trusted _huachos_, Pedro and Carlos, set out for the Monastery of the Cross of the Snows. The Longitudinal Railway, in the valley between the Cordilleras and the Andes, carried them south to Tembuco in the Auraucanian land, and thence they made their way by automobile to a tambo or inn in the Andes, where mules which had been arranged for were obtained. After a ten-day journey on mule back over trails that skirted terrible precipices, climbed cliffs seemingly impassable and by means of rope suspension bridges crossed gorges in the bottoms of which roared torrents over rocky beds, they at length reached the monastery. The Abbot, Father Felipe, was a jolly fellow, rotund as a keg, his face rosy and sparkling with good cheer. They were welcomed warmly. Far though they were to the south, and despite the fact that they were not in the loftiest of the mountains, the winter had been rigorous. Had it not been that it was what is known as an "open winter," in fact, the trip at that time of year would have been impossible. The trail by which they reached the monastery was free from snow, but on the lofty peaks above and in the distance glistened great blankets of snow, while during the forepart of their journey great Aconcagua's hoary head had sparkled far away on their left for days. "Ah, my friend," said Father Felipe, to his relative, as the party dismounted from mule back in the great courtyard of the monastery, "you are lucky, indeed, to have had such weather for travel, else would it have been impossible. Yet what terrible insanity possesses you, what fever for running up and down the land like a flea is in your blood, that you should attempt such an expedition. Well did I know how it would be with you, when I sent you that bit of ancient writing. 'Now the crazy man will leap upon his mule and come galloping at once to our gates,' said I to myself. 'And he will cry to Father Felipe to show him the way to this lost land at once.' Is it not so, my friend?" And Father Felipe laughed so heartily that his stout frame in its corded robe shook like a jelly. Don Ernesto, too, laughed, and leaping from his mule embraced the good priest, at least embraced as much as possible of his ample form. "You are always the same, Felipe," said he. "How do you manage to keep so cheerful in this isolated spot, surrounded by these great mountains, with their eternal snows? It is a great mystery." Father Felipe laughed again. "Ah, my friend," said he, "you should have my equable disposition. Besides, the food is good, the wine excellent. But, come. Let me know your friends, and then you shall be taken to the guest rooms. Everything is prepared for you. After you have rested a little from your journey you shall try my fare, and then tonight you shall tell me how it goes in the great world beyond our snows." Of the weeks drifting into months which the party spent here, there is no need to tell in detail. Delays of one sort or another, a belated intensity of winter, operated to keep the party from making a start. But the life of the monastery was a novelty to all the boys, even to Ferdinand, and they found much to interest them. Moreover, from Brother Gregorio, a great linguist, the boys learned the Auraucanian tongue as well as much of the Inca lore, with which he was saturated. So that, by and large, they were far from being bored. Moreover, all three practiced at speaking Spanish until they became extremely proficient in it. Nor did they come empty-handed. For while the good monks were doing their best to equip the boys with a knowledge of Spanish and of the Indian language of the region into which they would penetrate, the three chums had something of vast interest to impart to their instructors. That was a knowledge of Radio. It was Jack who thought of it first. One night, as he and Bob and Frank sat with Ferdinand and Brother Gregorio before a roaring fire in the wide chimney place of the guest room assigned them as sitting room, he introduced the subject. Brother Gregorio looked blank at first. Then, as Jack in his eagerness to make himself understood, launched into a description of how speech was transmitted through the air without the means of wires, the good monk crossed himself. "Of the telegraph I have heard," he said, "but of this other thing, not one word. Can it be right? Is this not the work of the Fiend?" The boys were inclined to laugh, but, as if moved by the same impulse, forebore lest they wound his feelings. Ferdinand intervened. He was a devout churchman, and knew how best to disarm Brother Gregorio's suspicions and lay at rest his fears. "It is not the work of the Fiend," said he, "but a great discovery of which the whole world rings. The Holy Father at Rome himself has manifested an interest in it, and it is but a development of the wireless telegraph which a good son of Holy Church, Signor Marconi, earlier invented." "Ah," Brother Gregorio's face cleared. Then eager interest shown in his eyes. "Tell me about it," he begged. Jack at once launched into an explanation. He had with him, in his baggage, moreover, several textbooks of radio. These he produced, and pressed upon Brother Gregorio, whose knowledge of English would make it possible for him to study them. "Best of all, though," added Jack, "we have our field outfit of generator, tubes, spark coils, batteries and wire with us." "With that device of yours, Jack, you won't need an aerial," said Frank. "You can hook in on the electric light socket." "Righto," said Jack. "That makes it easier." The monastery had its own electric light and power plant, turbines utilizing the power generated by a nearby waterfall in the mountains. The device referred to by Frank was a plug to be inserted in the ordinary electric light socket, from which wires led to the aerial post of the instrument. This plug was so constructed that the alternating current, fatal to the instrument, did not pass through it. Thus the electric wiring of the house could be employed as aerial. No antenna and no clumsy lead-in was necessary. "Look here," said Jack, "Dad has a good receiving outfit with him I know. He has packed it with him throughout the trip, and has taken precious good care of it, too. He and Ferd's father are in with Father Felipe at this time. Just excuse me, and I'll be right back. We ought to be able to make use of that outfit right now." The whole party returned with Jack, and he and his father, assisted by Bob and Frank, set rapidly to work. As they worked, Jack talked excitedly. "We shall have something here presently, Father Felipe, that will astonish you and Brother Gregorio. How silly of me not to think of it before. Probably, however, I did not consider there would be any radio broadcasting in this part of the world to listen to. But I remember now. _La Presna_, the great newspaper of Buenos Ayres, recently built a great broadcasting station, and I read in a scientific article recently that it can be heard clear across the Argentine Pampas, thousands of miles, to the mountains. "Here we are in the mountains now. And with this device of mine for hooking up, and Dad's outfit, we ought to be able to hear _La Presna's_ concerts. Now for the loud speaker, Dad. Let's hook her up, and we'll be ready." While Jack feverishly manipulated the controls, the others looked on with varying expressions. Not a word was said. All crowded around. Suddenly there was a faint whirring as of the buzzing of bees. Then that gave 'way to a noisy crackling. That, too, disappeared, and in its place there floated out into that ancient stone-walled room a rich, mellifluous tenor voice singing an air from "Manon." Father Felipe and Brother Gregorio were so astounded that their mouths opened and they stood, thus, speechless, while the song continued. At its conclusion, a voice in Spanish emanated from the loud speaker, announcing the next number on the programme would be orchestral, and immediately the room was filled with the dashing rhythm of a wild Argentine melody. Number succeeded number until, in conclusion, the voice announced the concert for the following evening. Brother Gregorio's face was radiant, but in the presence of his superior, he refrained from speech. Father Felipe, however, was under no restraint. He was delighted beyond measure. Moreover, he showed that he was a man of imagination. "To think," said he, "that all we heard was in far-distant Buenos Ayres. Who knows but that some day we can hear Rome just as easily? Who knows but that some day now the Holy Father himself can speak to us, his children, in his own voice, though we dwell at the ends of the earth? Yet men foolishly say the day of miracles has passed. This is as truly a miracle as anything that has ever happened." He spoke with energy. His face was flushed, his eyes alight. Don Ernesto regarded his cousin slyly. "How now, Felipe," said he, "you show all this enthusiasm over hearing operatic music or the dance of the Pampas guachero within monastic walls?" Father Felipe smiled. "Ninny," said he. "Why not? It was good music. Yes," he added, energetically, "and tomorrow night, if our good young friend will arrange it, we shall have all the brethren assemble in the Great Hall and hear this concert." "I am rebuked, Felipe," said the other. "You are, indeed, a father to your brethren. How they will enjoy this." CHAPTER VI--A SENDING STATION BUILT And enjoy it, the monks did, the following night. But to make it possible for all in the Great Hall to hear, Jack and Bob and Frank worked hard the next day. A number of ram's horns were obtained, the ends cut off so that an aperture an inch and a half in diameter was left, and the interior bored out. These were then placed in various parts of the Great Hall and connected by wires to the magnavox. The result was that the nightly concert broadcasted in distant Buenos Ayres could be heard in the remotest part of the Great Hall as clearly as if singer and orchestra were in the room itself. "What marvellous music," Frank exclaimed, later that night, as, the concert ended, they sat once more before their fire. Mr. Hampton nodded. "Better than any broadcasting programme in our country by far," he said. "And with reason. Buenos Ayres is one of the great artistic centers of the world. It possesses the finest opera house in the world. The Colon Opera House surpasses the best in Europe. Its auditorium is larger than any in London, Paris or Berlin, and its equipment and appointments are of the most luxurious and artistic. "Yet this great opera house is not the only musical outlet of the Argentine capital. In the winter season there are always at least three grand opera houses in full swing, with world-famous artists at each. In addition, there are minor operatic performances all the time. In fact, Buenos Ayres is one of the leading operatic centers of the world, and many a famous opera singer has graduated from its conservatories. These latter are more than a hundred in number, conducted by teachers of note. So you see _La Presna_ has a wealth of the best artists and musicians to draw upon for its radio concerts." "But, Mr. Hampton," said Frank, astonished, "this newspaper must be awfully powerful and important to obtain the services of these fine artists. And rich, too." "Yes, Frank, _La Prensa_ is, indeed, powerful, important and rich," said Mr. Hampton. "It occupies a position far different from newspapers in New York or in any other North American city. Like the best of South American newspapers, it is less provincial and less sensational than our own newspapers, and more cosmopolitan and educative. It occupies what is by all odds the handsomest newspaper building in the world,--a building as magnificent as the finest palaces of Europe. Among other of its many features, it has in that building a private theatre where visiting singers, actors and lecturers give private performances. _La Presna_ will give no publicity whatsoever to any such public characters unless it considers them worthy. Doubtless, these radio concerts are given in that private theatre." "Well," said Jack, "at all events, these concerts certainly break the monotony of the long nights here in the monastery. It is wonderful that Father Felipe permits us to give them. Yes, even urged us to do so. Isn't that acting in a pretty broad manner for the head of a monastery?" "These missionary monks, Jack," his father explained, "are not of the ascetic type. They are very human persons, indeed; in fact, they resemble the parish priests of the United States in that respect. You remember that Father Collins of the parish near us at home built a Community Hall where he gives motion picture shows and radio concerts?" "Yes, I know," Jack said. "But monks! It is hard for me to reconcile this jolly, wholesome houseful of men with my preconceived ideas of a monastery." "Just because a man does good for mankind, you should not expect him to be a perpetual cloud of gloom, Jack," said his father. "Another thing which you must remember is that these men, Father Felipe, Brother Gregorio, and the others, are South Americans. That is, they come of a race in which the love of music is ingrained. No people on earth are so fond of music as these. Nowhere is music so universally accepted as here. "Moreover, these men are Chilians and Argentinians. That means a good deal, for Chile and the Argentine are the two South American countries in which the proportion of white blood is highest. Spanish, Italian, French and German are the predominant strains, and all represent music-loving races." It is to be feared, however, that the boys, while paying polite attention, in reality were thinking of other matters. Bob had a hand up to shade his eyes and was dozing. Jack was gazing into the leaping flames in the fireplace, and there was a faraway look in his eyes as his thoughts traveled back to those days when he rescued his father from the palace of Don Fernandez y Calomares in the Sonora mountains of Old Mexico, and met the charming Senorita Rafaela during the course of his mission. As to Frank, it was not difficult to gather from his next words of what he had been thinking. "Look here, Jack," said he, as Mr. Hampton finished his little lecture, "what's to prevent our utilizing the water power and the power plant of the monastery, and setting up a radio sending station? It would be lots of fun, and would help pass the time until the expedition is ready to start." Jack's eyes lighted up with enthusiasm, as his thoughts came back from faraway Mexico. Bob's head snapped up with a jerk. "Good idea," approved Jack. It was Mr. Hampton, however, who added the crowning touch. "Your suggestion is fine, Frank," said he. "And with such a station at our base, and a field radio equipment to keep us in touch with each other, we should be safeguarded against almost any accident. If we become lost, injured in attack from savages or in accidents due to wilderness travel, or if we suffer any big misfortune necessitating help, we can communicate the facts of our predicament to the base here. Father Felipe is a resourceful man, and undoubtedly would find some way to come to our aid." For some time longer, plans for the construction of the proposed station were discussed. The biggest item to be supplied would be wire, but this Mr. Hampton considered they probably could find at the monastery, as the institution, because of its isolation and the difficulty of bringing in stores from the outside, would have a considerable stock on hand at the power plant. Such, indeed, proved to be the case, and early the next day work on the proposed sending station was begun. Several of the monks who were clever artisans, were assigned by Father Felipe to the work. At the monastery, all inmates had trades in which they were proficient, and all the work of farming, building, electric wiring, etc., was done by monks. Day by day the work progressed, halted only at times when storms swept down from the mountains and buried the monastery in a blanket of snow. To the boys it was interesting and enjoyable, of course, but to the monks it was far more. As they worked under the boys' directions, it seemed to them they were helping effect a miracle. Moreover, the nightly concerts continued, and of these Brother Gregorio said to the boys: "When our plant is completed, we must send a message to _La Presna_, telling of our gratitude. Perhaps, too," he suggested timidly, "you will let me speak to the editor of this invention of yours whereby we were enabled to utilize our monastery wiring instead of running up what you call it--an aerial?" Jack shook his head, smiling. "Other men have been working on that same device," he said, "at least on that same idea. Presently some firm will perfect one and put it on the market in the United States. Then it will be farewell to the aerial with its poles and lead-ins, arresters and ground switches. Outside aerials and clumsy indoor loops will be things of the past." "Why didn't you market this device yourself, Jack?" asked Frank. "You worked it out toward the end of the year at Yale. If you had patented it, and put it on the market, you could have made a fortune." "Perhaps I could have made a fortune, as you say, Frank. But the truth of the matter is that when Dad mentioned the possibility of his expedition, every other thought fled out of my mind. And it was just as well, for to have put this on the market would have meant repeated conferences with manufacturers, trips to Washington, and one thing and another. I would have had to give up making this expedition, and I couldn't bring myself to do that." Frank nodded. "Imagine doing that," he said. "I'd sooner kiss the fortune goodbye. Besides, what a chance here to make a fortune, if we find the Enchanted City! And that will be a lot more romantic way of making it than by a business move." Mr. Hampton, who had approached in time to hear the conclusion of this conversation, shook his head, but smiled, nevertheless. "Won't you fellows ever grow up?" he asked. Jack grinned. "You're a fine one to talk to us like that, Dad," he said. "Look at your own case. Here you are, an engineer of international reputation, exacting princely fees for your services. Yet you go and sacrifice what probably will amount to a whole year of your time, in order to make this expedition." Mr. Hampton returned Jack's broad grin with interest. "I am properly rebuked, Jack," he said. "Well, what's more fun than doing what you like to do, once in a while? When I was a boy I had to work pretty hard, for my people were poor. I worked my own way through college. All the time, I dreamed of adventurous and romantic expeditions, but I had no chance to make them. My nose must always be between the covers of a textbook at night. My thoughts must be on business during the day. "As a matter of fact, my recollection of my own youth actuated me in giving you this chance. I know what a boy wants. I was denied it myself, and I mean you shall have better luck." Turning abruptly, he walked away. The boys were silent. When he was out of earshot, Frank said earnestly: "Jack, your father is a prince." "I never heard him talk quite so freely of his own youth before," said Jack, thoughtfully. "I want to know more about it." Without further explanation, he, too, set off in his father's wake. CHAPTER VII--THE EXPEDITION GETS UNDER WAY With the coming of the first warm weather, delightful and interesting though their stay at the monastery had proven to be, the boys were eager to get under way upon the last stage of their hunt for the Enchanted City. Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton, though less enthusiastic on the surface, were no whit less desirous to be moving on than the boys. Father Felipe, reluctant to part with them, for they had enlivened the placid hours of life in the lonely monastery immeasurably, nevertheless saw that it would be useless any longer to interpose objections to their departure. "Good weather has arrived," he said, at length, one balmy day. "I know the mountains. There will be no more snow or cold winds. Rain, yes. For on this western slope of the Andes we always have showers and thunderstorms. But snow, no. Spring is definitely here. "I wish I could dissuade you, my friend," he said to Don Ernesto, in a graver tone than was customary for the jolly Abbot to employ. "I wish, indeed, you could be persuaded to turn aside from this foolish adventure. I have a feeling that grave danger will come to you. My spirits seem depressed." "Ah, Father Felipe, you have not dined well today," said Don Ernesto, in a sympathetic tone belied by his dancing eyes. "A trace of indigestion, maybe. I, too, often feel depressed for like cause." "Nay," said Father Felipe, indignantly. "A little fish, coffee--what is there in this to give me indigestion? But you must joke, you crazy man, eager to run up and down mountains and poke your nose into places where white men have never trod. There will be trouble, I tell you, trouble." And the good Abbot sighed like a miniature earthquake. Brother Gregorio, also, was reluctant to see the party set out. The boys, all four of them, had endeared themselves to him. Especially was he fond of Frank, in whose quick, responsive mind and sensitive spirit he seemed to sense a kindred strain. The boys found him at the power plant, pottering around, when they told him of their imminent departure. His face fell, and for a time he could find no words to utter. He had known, of course, that their stay would not be forever. But so long had it lasted during the winter months that it had seemed to him as if matters would continue in _statu quo_ or without change for an indefinite period. Now to be told that they were going to leave within the week was a blow. At length he walked away from the group, and stood on the brink of the pool into which cascaded the water from the falls, his hands behind him, his back to the group. "He takes it hard," said Jack. "Frank, he likes you best of all. We'll leave you here with him." Frank nodded. "I guess that's a good idea," he said soberly. "Brother Gregorio is a fine fellow, and we understand each other." As the others departed, they looked back and saw Frank go up to the monk and place an arm over his shoulders. They stood thus for a long time, no words interchanged. When it came to the point of packing for the journey, there was much that could not be taken along. Brother Gregorio, indeed, would have loaded each man like a pack mule with his gifts of this, that and the other--of clothing, boots, ponchos, prayer books and what not, of medicine cases and packages of herbs and simple remedies. Nor were Father Felipe or the many other monks to whom the various members of the party had endeared themselves, the less behindhand in their offerings. "We can't take all this stuff," said Jack, in comical dismay, as he stood in their common sitting room, surrounded by bundles, boxes, heaps and bales. "What'll we do with it? Every single thing that I take up, I say to myself, 'Well, this will be absolutely useless, and just in our way. But if we don't take it, we shall break Brother Gregorio's heart or Father Felipe's heart or somebody's else heart.' What are we going to do?" Mr. Hampton shook his head. "There are only eight of us, Jack," he said. "And we can't overload ourselves. We have difficult country through which to make our way--country that for a large part is trackless and uncharted. We can afford to take only essentials." "Yes, but, Dad, Brother Gregorio and the rest of them consider all they have given us as essential." Don Ernesto laughed. "Bale up what we can't take, and leave it here against our return," he said. "Let none of the monks see what has been taken and what left behind. Thus no feelings will be hurt." Jack's face brightened. "Good idea," he said. "Well, come on fellows. Now this we can't take, and this and this." For hours they were busy sorting out the useless gifts, and for other hours busy packing them securely and stowing away in the sitting room to await their return. At length the expedition was ready to start. The mules were packed, Carlos, Pedro and the monks being expert in the art. Besides the necessary food supplies and camping equipment, the luggage contained field radio equipment of various sorts. There was a tube transmitter, several sizes of spark coil, coils of fine wire, and duplications of the standard U. S. Army field radio--several sets of hollow, light steel poles in collapsible sections, a hand-operated quarter-kilowatt generator, headphones and batteries being the main articles. "With the tube transmitter we can reach you at our base here, Father Felipe, for short distances," said Mr. Hampton. "But for long distance work, the tube transmitter and batteries would not be strong enough. In that case, this little generator will be the thing to employ. You might consider us foolish to take all these duplications of equipment, but they do not weigh much and, we have so distributed all among the mule packs, that even if part become lost, we shall still have others upon which to fall back." Father Felipe looked about him at the assembled monks, and smiled. "If you get into a tight place," he said, "call on us for help. It may seem foolish to offer you the help of men of peace, yet we are no puling men here, but strong, stout fellows all. Even should you be taken prisoners and require stout arms to rescue you, call upon us. There be many here who have soldiered in the past and who could strike a right good blow in a righteous cause, I warrant you." "I can easily believe that, Father Felipe," answered Mr. Hampton with a smile. "Well, bid us Godspeed, and we shall be on our way." The Abbot embraced Mr. Hampton, Don Ernesto and the boys unaffectedly. Brother Gregorio and Frank did likewise. The other monks raised a cheer. Then there was a period of silence while all knelt with uncovered head, and Father Felipe prayed aloud for the safe return of the expedition. Not until then did they swing off along a trail up the side of a mountain that would presently vanish upon a bare mountain top, they were assured, after which they would have to trust to their own energy and resource for getting forward. At a bend in the trail all halted and faced about for a last look at the monastery. "It makes me feel as if I were living in mediaeval times," said Frank. "The stout Abbot and his jolly monks, us setting off afoot with a mule train, the prayer delivered over us as we start. Boy, this is the way to live." Jack reached over to clasp his chum's hand strongly, and Mr. Hampton regarded the two with a little smile of sympathy. "I feel the same way, boys," he said. "This is something I've always wanted to do. Yes, it is good to be alive and starting out on an adventure of which no man can guess the end." "Just a boy, you are, my friend," said Don Ernesto, jestingly. "But I, too. I, too. Come, let us get forward." CHAPTER VIII--JACK HAS A MISHAP Of that trip during the ensuing days there is little of moment to record. Sometimes they advanced less than five miles a day. Sometimes, where the going was easy, through a valley leading in their general direction, perchance, where there was little underbrush and the benchland along the stream gave firm footing, the distance travelled was considerably more. But, whether the going was easy or hard, whether few miles were covered or many, there was not a foot of it all that was not intensely interesting to the boys, and not only to the three New York lads, but to Ferdinand as well. Steadily they mounted higher into the mountains, skirting precipices of which sometimes the bottom could not be seen. On one occasion, as they made camp at night upon a lofty meadow against the shoulder of a mountain on one side, and with a precipitous drop on the other, they looked over the edge into the abyss and drew back frightened. "Why, you can't even see the bottom," exclaimed Jack. "It's hidden by the clouds." Which was true; for five hundred feet below lay a fleecy stratum of cloud, through which on the edges projected the tops of trees, but which in the middle was as unbroken as a placid sea. Across the valley the sun was setting in the west, its rays red as blood upon the side of the mountain behind them and upon their faces. Then the sun seemed quite suddenly to slip below the mountain top, the sky became colder in appearance, and a chill wind swept down out of the mountains, while the cloud sea below began to stir and toss a little under the wind's fretting. "By Jiminy," said big Bob, "I'll bet it's so deep down there, if I toss this stone overboard you'll never hear it fall." He suited action to word. The stone ripped through the clouds and the boys held their breath to listen. Not a sound came back to them. "Whew," shivered Frank. "Come on, let's get away from the precipice before some demon pushes us in. Up here I begin to believe in demons and warlocks, kobolds and gnomes." They hurried toward the fire which Carlos and Pedro had built. On another occasion, as they were climbing early one morning out of a high valley over the shoulder of a mountain, Jack slipped on a rock that turned under his foot, and, falling to his side, began sliding down hill. Not far away was another precipice, with a sheer drop into a rocky ravine where there were not even any trees to break his fall. Mr. Hampton made a leap for his son, but he was too far away to be able to reach him in time. Jack meanwhile was clawing desperately at the ground, in an attempt to stay his downward progress. Frank, who was nearer than Mr. Hampton, also started for Jack, impeded, however, by the necessity of watching his own footsteps to prevent slipping. It was big Bob, however, who saved his comrade, and he did it in a novel way. At a glance, his quick eye took in the situation. He saw that the ground sloped so sharply that whoever should run to Jack's rescue might merely hasten his descent by further loosening the loose rocks that lay everywhere about and sending them down on the sliding figure. Further, would there be time for a man to reach Jack? He believed not. But by his side, over a pack on the mule with which he had been keeping pace, hung a coiled lasso. Two years before, during their stay in New Mexico, Bob had been fascinated by the manipulations of the lasso, of which his cowboy friends were capable. He had worked under their tutelage, and had acquired considerable dexterity. On his present trip, he had amazed the monks by his skill, and had kept his hand in with constant practise. Seizing the lasso, he measured the distance, swung once, twice, thrice around his head, and then let fly. The coil straightened out through the air. The noose descended over Jack's upflung arm and trunk. His feet braced, Bob let the rope out gently, while Jack slid a matter of several feet more. Thus Bob prevented too great strain being put upon the rope that might upset him, and also refrained from injuring his chum. Jack came to rest, outstretched, one arm pinioned by the lasso, which passed beneath the other armpit. His feet were already over the edge of the precipice. "Give me a hand, Frank, and you, Mr. Hampton," panted Bob. They sprang to obey. Inch by inch at first, Jack was pulled back from the brink, until he was sufficiently far removed from it to warrant him in gaining his feet. Then he made his way, limping, helped by the steady tug on the rope, back to his comrades. "Bob, you saved my life," he said. "I won't forget." Then he sat down weakly, and dropped his head to his hands. "Here, Jack," said his father, "take a sip of this. It will steady you," and he set a flask to Jack's lips. Presently, Jack regained his feet, and with a shake, pulled himself together. "I'm all right now," he said. "But--for a moment or two there--I felt as if I still were on the brink and just toppling over. I tell you, that was no joke. There wasn't even a stunted bush to grab at as I slid down." Day succeeded day, sometimes sudden storms forcing them to seek shelter in mid-day, before they contemplated going into camp. These storms in the mountains come up suddenly. The sky would darken, thunder roll reverberatingly along the hills, lightning flash, and then would come a tremendous downpour of rain. Quickly as the storm arose, however, it went as quickly. Always as they pushed ahead, they climbed higher into the mountains. "But, Dad," protested Jack one day, "can it be the Enchanted City was among these lofty peaks? Would de Arguello's expedition, for instance, have gotten so high?" "Patience, Jack," explained Mr. Hampton. "Tomorrow, I believe, we start descending. We are almost at the top of a range of mountains now. Today, several times, I caught glimpses of a snow-clad range beyond--so far away, indeed, that I believe there must be a great central valley between. Somewhere in there, if our vague directions left by de Pereira are of any value, lies the Enchanted City." That a great central valley did intervene between that range and the next was proven next day when, coming through a pass, they discerned a tossing, forest-clad wilderness of scarp and mountain, lake and river, cut up by mountains irregularly scattered about, spread out below them. The next regular chain of mountains, paralleling that through which they had been making their way, lay far beyond, and their peaks were white with snows. "We shall have difficulty exploring this wilderness below us," said Don Ernesto. "This is beyond any regions where white men go. There are hostile branches of the Auraucanos down there--somewhere. Somewhere down there, too, lies the Enchanted City, however. And if it is to be found, we shall find it. Game and water, at least, shall not be wanting. Come." They set off as into a promised land. CHAPTER IX--SURPRISED IN THE FOREST "I wonder where Dad is?" For the twentieth time in the last hour, Jack, striding up and down in the little forest glade, high up in the mountains, where camp had been pitched the day before, came to a halt before Frank and Bob, out-sprawled and napping in their hammocks, and asked his question. They had reached this spot after weeks of travel from the monastery. "Yes," said Ferdinand, coming up, "and my father?" He, too, had been doing a restless sentry-go to and fro, unable to remain quiet. Three hours before, shortly after dawn, the two older men had left the camp in company with Carlos, to hunt small game. They had promised to return in a couple of hours. "Oh, they're just an hour or so overdue, Jack," said Frank, putting aside a book of old Inca tales which he had been reading, and examining his watch. "I don't think there is anything for you two to worry about. They'll be back shortly." "Yes," said Bob, comfortably, stretching and yawning, "they probably went a little farther than they expected to, that's all." Jack shook his head. "I haven't heard the report of any firearms since they left," he said. "I'm afraid they may have wandered too far afield, not finding any game close at hand, and in these great trackless forests they may easily have become lost." "What does Pedro say?" asked Frank. With an exclamation, Ferdinand called to his retainer in Spanish, and the latter approached. There was a rapid interchange of conversation. Pedro shook his head in negation, and spread out his hands. "No, Carlos has never been in these mountains." Ferdinand's expression became worried. He shook his head, as he turned to the others. "What shall we do?" "We will have to start looking for them," said Jack, determinedly. "They are lost. There is no doubt about it. But in these forests they may have swung about in a circle, and be near camp without realizing it. I'll climb this great tree here in the clearing, and look around first. Then, if I cannot see them, four of us can set out to the four quarters of the compass, while the fifth remains in camp to fire off a gun at frequent intervals. That will serve to keep the searchers in touch with camp, and also will act as a guide to the others, in case they are within sound of the gun." Jack's spirits had sunk low, despite his confident tone. He had a premonition of evil. The fact that no gun shots had been heard, led him to believe that the party at the very least had gone far astray. In that case, of what use for the searchers to stay within sound of a gun. The possibility of finding traces of a trail which could be followed, however, occurred to him. Without further words, he sprang into the tree and began clambering up the great trunk. On the Chilian side, the mountains of the south are forest-clad and, because of the heavy rainfall on the west coast, there are numerous streams and lakes cutting them up. On the eastern or Argentinian slope, however, so little rain falls that the mountains are almost entirely bare of verdure. The spot in which the party had pitched camp was a thickly-forested valley through which flowed a clear mountain stream. They had been unable, because of the density of the forest, to see much of their surroundings on arrival late the previous afternoon. In the morning, therefore, the two older men and Carlos had gone scouting as much as in search of game. Before their departure, Mr. Hampton had called Jack to him. "Undoubtedly, Jack," he had said, "we are getting close to our destination. Somewhere in this region must lie the Enchanted City. Once let us find a valley containing one great lake and three smaller ones, as described by de Pereira, and we shall have the first of our definite landmarks. However, although we must be close to our destination, it has never been found yet so far as outsiders know, and we may not succeed, either. "It is possible," he had added, thoughtfully, "that some descendants of the old Incas may still reside in the Enchanted City, just barely possible. If so, I have sometimes thought, there may be a reasonable explanation for the failure of any reports of their city to reach the outside world. Few as are the men who push into these trackless forests and vast mountains, there yet must have been some who did so in the last two or three centuries. They may have been captured and either killed or imprisoned, in order to guard the secret of the city." Jack was thinking of these words of his father as he continued to climb higher and higher into the tree, and his heart sank. That premonition of evil which weighed him down! Did it mean, perhaps, that there really still did exist dwellers in the Enchanted City, and that his father's party had been surprised and captured? He would not let himself believe they could have been killed, but resolutely set his face against the thought. Arrived at a height beyond which, because of the thinning of the trunk, which already swayed under his weight, he did not dare to go, Jack at last found time to look about him. He hooked one arm about the trunk of the tree, twined his legs about it, and with his free hand fumbled at the case slung by a strap about his neck, which enclosed the field glasses. Meantime, his gaze roved over the scene. Down-stream he could see the break in the mountains through which they had entered the valley. To either side, the tree-clad heights sloped up. But ahead---- An exclamation broke from him. It was that direction which his father had taken, following down the stream. Now he could see what had not been discernible from the ground, namely, that ahead the forest walls narrowed to a pass. And through this he could see the glint of sunshine upon water. He set the glasses to his eyes and adjusted the focus. The water now resolved itself into what evidently was a considerable body, the ends of which he could not see. For a considerable time he gazed upon it, without discerning any signs of life or movement. Then, sweeping the hills, but without result, he descended. "Look here, fellows," he said, "that other plan of mine to strike out in four directions in the belief that, perhaps, the others became lost and wandered in a circle, is unnecessary. There is only one direction in which to look for them I am convinced, and that is directly ahead." Thereupon, he described what he had seen. "You see, it isn't likely that they would have wandered in a circle, because the sides of this valley are so close together that they would soon have been upon a slope, and have realized their predicament. Moreover, although the sky was gray and overcast when they set out, yet the sun since has dispersed the clouds." Investigation of his father's effects earlier had shown Jack that he had set out without his pocket compass, probably feeling that the stream was sufficient guide. And it was this fact which had brought Jack's anxiety to high pitch. "Well, the best thing then is for us to go downstream, isn't it?" asked Bob. Jack nodded. "One of us should stay in camp," said he. "Which shall it be?" Frank thought a moment. "You and Ferdinand must go with the search party," said he. "Both of you are worried about your fathers. Bob and Pedro and I will draw straws." Then Pedro unexpectedly objected. "Master Ferdinand," he said, in an anxious tone, plucking the other by the sleeve. "You know I am no coward. Yet I have the feeling all is not well. And I do not care to stay here alone." "Why, Pedro, nothing can happen to you," said Ferdinand. "You will be in this clearing where nobody can approach unseen. And you will be armed." Pedro shrugged, but was silent. "Have you seen anything to make you fear?" Ferdinand asked, gazing at him keenly. Pedro's voice was low. "No," said he. "Naught have I seen. But I feel it. Here." And he placed a hand upon his breast. "There is some evil in these forests." "Here, here," said Frank, interrupting. "This search must not be delayed. I'll stay." "And I'll stay with you," said Bob. "Three's enough for the search." Frank threw him a grateful look, knowing well that it was consideration for him which prompted his big chum's proffer. Nevertheless, he started to protest, but Jack interrupted. "Good idea," he said. "Well, let's go. If we get into any sort of trouble, we'll fire three times in rapid succession. As for guide, if we follow the stream, we cannot go astray." He did not put it into words, but Pedro's premonition of evil had effected him, coming as it did in confirmation of his own vague yet powerful fears. He wanted to plunge ahead without more delay. Therefore, with Ferdinand and Pedro at his heels, he set off rapidly down the stream. As their friends disappeared, Frank, looking thoughtful, turned to his chum. "Bob, I don't know what to make of all this," he said. "But I have a hunch it would not be a bad idea for us to keep some sort of watch, instead of merely dozing. So I'll take the first watch for an hour, and then you can relieve me." "Suit yourself," said Bob, indifferently. "I don't see what's the matter with all you fellows, though. Mr. Hampton and Ferdinand's father couldn't find any game close at hand, and kept on pushing farther ahead than they had expected to go. That's all it is. Nothing to worry about." Despite his friend's easy manner, however, Frank could not shake off the feeling of worry that possessed him. Most sensitive of all the boys, it was he who was accustomed to feel first of all the influence of evil close at hand. And, in fact, it had been so in the present case. But he had cloaked his feelings in order not to aggravate Jack's worry regarding his father. Now, while Bob lay on his back, his hands under his head, in the hammock, and talked in scattered sentences, Frank sat with his rifle across his knees, on a stool before the tent, with his bright eyes roving over the clearing, searching the trees and underbrush. Suddenly he leaped to his feet and threw his rifle to his shoulder, while big Bob, startled into wakefulness by the abrupt movement, rolled out of his hammock to the ground. Then out of the woods stepped a young man clad in a soft white tunic, belted with a golden girdle, wearing shoes of soft untanned leather that came almost to his knees, and having gold bracelets about his arms above the elbow, and anklets of gold about his legs. "Forebear, Senor," he commanded, in a rich yet imperious tone. "You are surrounded." Archaic though the Spanish was, Frank could understand. Especially, as, following with his gaze the wave of the other's hand about the clearing, he saw step from the trees a ring of forms similarly clad. CHAPTER X--IN THE HANDS OF THE INCAS Even then Frank and Bob would have fought for their freedom, stupefied though they were. In fact Bob, who had fallen to the ground in tumbling from the hammock, had seized his gun which was standing against the tree, but the commanding voice of the glittering stranger again bade him forebear. "Behold, we, too, have fire sticks that speak with tongues of flame and carry the unseen death." He swept his hand again around the clearing. And the two young fellows saw in the hands of the score of men ringing them 'round, weapons mounted in silver and gold and ancient in appearance, yet firearms, nevertheless, it was not to be doubted. "Lower your gun, Bob, but don't relinquish it," whispered Frank, in English. Then in Spanish, and seeking to put into his voice all the imperiousness which he could summon, he added: "We are travelers on peaceful business. By what right do you steal upon us like this? Surely," he added, in a tone of scorn, "you are not thieves who would rob us of our few belongings." "You come into a land whence no man may bear report abroad," said the other, darkly. "Yet fear not. Your lives are not in danger, if you will but yield peacefully. And"--he added, simply--"if you would fight, these would die for me. Though some be killed, yet can you not hope to escape." The two looked at each other. "Ask him where the others are," said Bob. "I can hardly understand his lingo. Sounds like Spanish, all right, yet it's a new kind of Spanish to me. You get along better than I do, so fire away." "We had some friends," began Frank. But he was interrupted. "They are alive and in our hands," said the stranger. "Speak. Will you fight or submit?" "And you promise we shall not be slain?" asked Frank. He realized that such a promise would not be worth much, perhaps, yet that it would be suicidal to attempt to fight. As the stranger had said, though they might kill some of the enemy, yet inevitably they must themselves be slain. They were hemmed in, and without shelter, and the men ringing them 'round were determined-looking fellows of military bearing. "I have said," answered the leader. "Then we surrender," said Frank. "But I warn you that we are citizens of the United States and that our government will demand an accounting for us." The leader regarded them with a slight trace of bewilderment. Then his face cleared, and he said: "I do not understand your words. But suffice it you are in the Forbidden Land. Now lay down your sticks of fire." The boys complied. As they bent over, their heads close together, Frank whispered in a low voice: "We're up against it, Bob. He never heard of the United States." At a sign from the leader, two men advanced to the sides of each of the boys, deprived them of their revolvers, and then, disdaining to tie their hands, led them to one side. There Bob and Frank stood, a soldier on each side of him, clad in tunic and soft leather boots, and looked on while the others of the company packed up the camp baggage, struck the tents, led up the mules from their pasturage nearby, and loaded them. Camp was struck in an incredibly short time, and they started downstream and out of the valley. The leader of the party had a proud, hawklike face, and as he strode ahead, Frank's eyes kept returning fascinatedly to that profile. "Bob," he said, "I'll bet we've fallen into the hands of the Incas." His speech was in English, but at the concluding word the soldiers guarding him looked sharply at Frank. The leader, too, spun around. He glanced sharply at the boys, then once more looked away. No word was said. But both boys noted the glances cast at them, and both were quick to understand. Incas! Frank had guessed correctly. "Did you see that?" asked Frank. Bob nodded. "Well, Bob, we're in for the experience of our lives. And as long as Jack and his father and the rest of the party are all right, I can't say that I object. We've stumbled on the Enchanted City, or I miss my guess. At least, we've gotten near it, and have been taken prisoner by the inhabitants. But think of finding descendants of those old boys, after all these centuries, hidden away from the world, and not a soul knowing anything about it. "Why, Bob, there has been nothing like it in history." Bob nodded, but his voice was more sober as he replied: "Yes, it's a pretty safe guess that we've found what we came searching for. But from all appearances, we may not be able to leave it. Didn't that chap call this the 'Forbidden Land?'" "Yes." "And didn't he say something about our being in a place of which no report was allowed to get out?" "Yes." "That's what I thought. But I couldn't understand him very well. My Spanish isn't the best in the world, anyhow." "He speaks what I expect is very ancient Spanish," Frank replied. "You know the story--how those old Spaniards stayed and intermarried. Well, the language has been handed down. It's hard for me to understand, but I can make out what he means well enough." Both boys had been careful not again to mention the word "Inca," which originally had stirred the interest of their captors. They walked along in silence, until Bob presently resumed. "Well, what I started to say was that it looks to me as if the reason why no report of the Enchanted City has ever gotten out is that they have captured whoever came near them and either killed them or taken them into the tribe." "Tribe?" Frank laughed. "These aren't wild Indians. They are members of the strangest race in the history of the world, or I miss my guess." "What do you think we'll find?" "I don't know, Bob. But you can count on its being something marvellous. Look how these men obey their leader. He must be a prince of the royal blood. But look what we're coming to." The travel along the stream carried them into an ever-narrowing valley which finally became a gorge, and now, as Frank let the exclamation escape him, this gorge broadened out suddenly on the other side and a beautiful valley lay below. In the middle shone a great lake. It was this which Jack had seen from his lofty eyrie in the treetop. Farther off shone other and smaller lakes. Frank counted them. Three. "The valley told of by de Pereira," he exclaimed. "Look, Frank." Frank's gaze followed Bob's outflung hand. A little way ahead was a considerable body of men of the same sort as their captors. They were resting on a meadow beneath the shade of a gigantic tree. In their midst the boys could make out a number of forms--Jack, Mr. Hampton, the de Avilars, father and son, Carlos and Pedro. Frank and Bob raised a glad shout of "Jack, Jack. Hello, fellows." At the same moment, they were seen. Answering cries came to them. They marched down into the meadow, and the two parties came together. A confused medley of handclasping followed. Evidently, their arrival had been expected, for preparations for moving on at once were in evidence. The leader of the party who had captured Bob and Frank now approached Mr. Hampton and Senor Don de Avilar. "We shall embark in boats," said he. "I have your interest in mind, and you will be permitted to converse one with another, even in the tongue of the young men which is strange to us." "Don Ernesto," said Mr. Hampton to his friend, "you seem to understand this chap better than any of us. Will you ask him where we are being taken?" Don Ernesto nodded, then turned to the other. After a few sentences, their voices dropped and they drew apart. When Don Ernesto rejoined the group, and the other turned to issue some orders to his men, his eyes shone. "Senor Hampton," said he, in an awed tone, "it is as you surmised. These are Incas of the Enchanted City into whose hands we have fallen. This chap is a prince of the royal house. I am not certain, and I had but little time for conversation, yet from something he said, I gather that the reigning family has in it the blood of de Arguello, leader of that old band of Spaniards, as well as the royal Inca strain. Doubtless, too, the nobles have Spanish blood, but that is merely surmise. As to where we are being taken, we are bound for what this chap, Prince Huaca, calls 'The Fair City,' We are to cross the lake in boats, and, when we arrive at the landing, we shall be blindfolded, he says, and led 'through the mountain.'" "By George," said Mr. Hampton, "we're in for it. Well, we may as well put a brave face on the matter. It looks dark now, yet we have found what we came to look for; and remember, you boys, the battle is never lost until defeat is admitted." This he said to hearten the boys. Yet the advice was unnecessary. They had listened to Don Ernesto with close attention, and as Mr. Hampton gazed from one to the other, he found their eyes alight. "Why, I don't believe you boys are worried at all," he said, banteringly. "Why worry, Dad?" said Jack. "As you said, 'the battle isn't lost until you are counted out.' I, for one, am tickled to death with the adventure. And I know Bob and Frank and Ferdinand are the same." The others nodded. "Well, here we go, down to the boats," said Frank. "So, as long as we may talk to each other, tell us how you fellows were captured, and we'll give our story." CHAPTER XI--INTO THE MOUNTAIN The accounts of how Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto and Carlos, and of how Jack, Ferdinand and Pedro were captured, differed little from the tale of the capture of the camp. Each party had been surrounded by an overwhelming number of the Incas, and had seen the folly of putting up a fight and so had surrendered. As they moved in the midst of their captors down the sloping meadow to the shore of the great lake, sparkling and calm under the mid-morning sun, these stories were quickly told. At the shore, the Incas embarked in several great canoes holding a score of men each. The prisoners, however, were placed aboard a state barge in which Prince Huaca also embarked. The barge rowed forty oars, twenty to a side. Paddles dipped in unison, and the canoes were off. The oars of the great barge flashed in and out in perfect time, and it, too, moved away in stately fashion, with the prisoners left to themselves on the half-deck at the bow, while Prince Huaca took his post on the other half-deck at the stern. The rowers could be seen bending back and forth, back muscles rippling under their tunics, in the waist of the barge. "Am I dreaming?" said Frank. Mr. Hampton nodded. "It is hard to believe, isn't it, Frank?" "Hard? It's impossible to believe. Why, this is like stepping back thousands of years to the shores of the Mediterranean and the Greek galleys of the days before Christ." "These fellows seem like Greeks or Romans, too," mused Mr. Hampton. "The commoners, with their bobbed hair, their tunics and sandals, and Prince Huaca, proud and stately as a Roman noble, are not exactly what one would expect to find in the world of today." Don Ernesto agreed. The remark opened another line of thought. "See how openly they operate on this lake, and in this valley," he said. "Look around you, too. So far as I can observe, there is only the one entrance of the pass through which we were brought. Can it be that the Incas maintain frontier guards, so to speak, on perpetual watch to capture any intruders into this wild region who threaten discovery of their secret? I begin to believe so. Perhaps guards are on duty on the mountain tops about us, and others in the valley beyond the pass." This, they later learned, was the actual state of affairs. Not only were frontier guards kept on constant duty about the great valley in which they now found themselves, but also about the inner valley holding the Enchanted City, to which they were being taken. Moreover, such watch had been maintained down the centuries. The prospect that greeted their eyes was wonderfully beautiful. The lake itself was some five miles long, but only one in width. As they now approached the shore opposite, they descried a stone jetty, for one side of which the canoes headed, while the barge was brought up on the other. They were disembarked and marched ashore under escort of Prince Huaca and twenty men. The others remained by their craft. At the end of the jetty a guard house of stone was passed. What surprised the boys beyond measure was to see the half dozen sentries drawn up in military formation, present arms with their silver-mounted muskets as Prince Huaca passed. "I can't believe it," muttered Frank. "Incas presenting arms!" Mr. Hampton offered a solution. "Perhaps some adventurer captured by them, as were we, has instructed them in military tactics." Ahead through a copse of trees lay a country home of stone, and toward this Prince Huaca bent his steps. On nearer approach they could see the stone was beautifully chiselled, and the house nobly proportioned with a broad portico in front, through the supporting pillars of which they could see a courtyard, around the sides of which the dwelling was constructed. At the command of Prince Huaca, the guard halted at the foot of a broad flight of stone steps with the prisoners, while the prince mounted and disappeared into a door on the left of the courtyard. The captives now had a chance to look about them. Although about the house, or, better, the mansion itself, no figures were to be seen, there was a constant coming and going in what they took to be the servants' quarters which lay considerably to the left. Horses were being watered in one spot, out of a great trough, and then led back to the fields which stretched on every hand. Don Ernesto exclaimed at this sight. "Those are Argentinian horses," said he, with conviction. "The early Spaniards who colonized the region of La Plata were enjoined by their monarchs to bring over a certain number of head of horses and of cattle for their own use, and a certain number to be turned loose to breed. Thus the great herds of wild horses and cattle which used to thunder over the Pampas, but since have been largely exterminated or brought under herd, came into existence." "And you think----" "Yes, Senor Hampton, that is what I believe. These horses either wandered thus far across the mountains, which seems preposterous, or, as is more likely, were captured by scouting parties and brought hither. The intermixture among the Incas of Spaniards in de Arguello's early expedition or of adventurers captured since, as is more likely, told the Incas of these horses, and mayhap even helped to capture them." "This valley is certainly marvellous," declared Mr. Hampton, shading his eyes with his hand, as he gazed about him in the bright sunlight. "Notice those irrigation ditches, carrying water to the fields everywhere from the lakes. Why, this is so intensively cultivated, it can raise sufficient food for a great city without difficulty." Don Ernesto nodded. "The ancient Incas were fine agriculturists," said he. "They practised irrigation, and had a very good knowledge of culture of the soil. These, their descendants, seem to be no whit behind them." At this moment they were interrupted by an exclamation from Frank, who pointed to two figures approaching them across the lawn. They were Prince Huaca and another young man dressed as he, evidently a noble. He was regarding them with curiosity. He did not address them, however, but the two halted at a little distance and concluded their conversation, during all of which time the stranger regarded them with bright quick glances. Then he bowed to Prince Huaca, and the latter issued a command at which the guard started forward with the prisoners in their midst. They moved down the great driveway from the mansion to a highroad crossing the valley to the encircling mountains. Jack looked back as they reached the highroad, and saw the figure of the young noble, immobile, staring after them. "He certainly was curious," he commented. Frank, who marched beside him, shook his head. "I believe I know what was in his mind," said he. "What?" Jack glanced at him curiously. "I don't know--maybe I'm wrong--but it seemed to me there was a look of longing in his eyes--as if he wondered about the great outside world, perhaps, from which we came." Mr. Hampton, who had overheard, threw Frank an understanding and approving glance. "You have an observant mind, Frank," he said. "It is not unlikely that a gallant young fellow like that noble would wonder about the world beyond, and think at times that he would like, perhaps, to penetrate it. And your words give me an idea. We will bear in mind the possibility of young blood becoming irked at this self-immurement, no matter how idyllic the conditions. Perhaps, if no other way of escape suggests itself, we may induce some such young fellow to aid us by painting to him the wonders of the world to which we can introduce him." The party moved along in silence, until Bob declared: "Fellows, did you ever see a finer road?" The highway upon which they had entered from the estate drive was, indeed, a fine thoroughfare. It was made of concrete, and so broad that, a procession of farm carts drawn by horses, approaching from the opposite direction, was enabled to pass, although they moved three abreast. "Ah, these Incas once more resemble their ancestors," said Don Ernesto. "Yes, they were great road-builders," said Mr. Hampton. "Great road-builders, indeed," Don Ernesto rejoined. "When the Conquerors entered the Peruvian empire under Pizarro, they found the Incas had built a road not then equalled in any part of the world, perhaps not even equalled today. It was a road even finer than anything built by Rome. For more than twelve hundred miles it extended, bringing into communication all the provinces of the empire. "Moreover, it must be remembered that road was built at a great elevation through the mountains, all of which added to the difficulty of the enterprise. At some places it was more than 12,000 feet above sea level. It went northward from Cusco to a point beyond Quito, in the province of Guaca, and southward from Cusco to Chuquisaca, not far from the mines of Potosi. "You boys," he added, "can better appreciate the magnitude of this road, if I tell you it was as far as a road from Calais to Constantinople, and through mountainous country immeasurably more difficult to travel than any country in Europe. In some places, the beds of concrete or mezcla, of which the road was formed, went down from 80 to 100 feet. The rains have since washed the earth away from under the concrete, for, I am sorry to say, the Conquerors and the later Viceroys of Spain did not see fit to care for this highway. Yet masses of it today are left suspended over washouts like bridges made of one stone, as the historian Velasco said. "There was also a lower road, about forty leagues distant from the other, which traversed the plains country near the sea. And along both these roads, at equal distances, were built stone inns, called tambos by the natives. The word has persisted, and is still used throughout the Inca country, to describe a post house on a highroad. "In fact," he concluded, "it was the existence of these roads which, ironically, helped to destroy the Inca Empire. For over them the invading armies of the Spaniards were able to move with speed." As Don Ernesto had talked, they had continued moving forward at a brisk pace, and had drawn close to the base of a lofty mountain. Now the road began to mount, in some places the going being so steep that concrete stairways were built. Up this the guards with the prisoners, and with Prince Huaca at the head, moved steadily. With each upward step, they were enabled to see more of the valley outspread below them, the great lake, the three smaller bodies of water, the irrigation ditches like a network of bright ribbons, the little clumps of trees surrounding other country mansions like that they had stopped at, and everywhere laborers were at work in the fields. "Truly a marvellous sight," said Mr. Hampton, as they came to a halt at length on a wide concreted terrace with a low stone wall at the front, very thick, and loopholed, and with a stone building of fortress-like strength built at the back, seemingly into the side of the mountain. Here the path up which they climbed appeared to end. "Senor," said Prince Huaca to Don Ernesto, in his archaic Spanish, "here you will be blindfolded, your hands will be tied, and we enter the mountains. Fear not. There is no evil intended." "Very well," said Don Ernesto with a shrug. Guards tied each man's hands behind his back, blindfolds were adjusted, shutting out all light, and then, with a man on each side to act as guide, they were led up a flight of steps, into what they took to be a fortress, and presently, after treading across a wide room, passed through a doorway and, by the cool and slightly earthy feel of the air, surmised they were in a tunnel. CHAPTER XII--IMPRISONED IN THE ACROPOLIS "What a tremendous engineering feat to have been accomplished without modern machinery," said Mr. Hampton, at one stage of their journey through the tunnel. The words were surprised from him. "It seems," he added, "like an impossible task." Jack, who was close to him, heard the remarks, and agreed with his father. "I hope," he added, "they haven't brought us this long distance, merely to tumble us into some bottomless pit in the heart of the mountain." "Don't worry, my boy," his father replied. "I have only a hazy idea as to what our fate is to be, but I am certain it is not that." "What do you think they will do with us, Dad?" Mr. Hampton considered. "Probably give us the option of becoming citizens of their state," he said, "or of refusing our parole and being imprisoned, and put to work under guard." "Wouldn't they kill us, if we refuse to become citizens?" "I don't know, Jack, but I doubt it." In reality, Mr. Hampton was beginning to be filled with dark forebodings, as successive developments impressed him more and more with the power of this unknown race. But he did not want Jack to experience any fear, and spoke in a tone of conviction which he was far from feeling. The progress through the tunnel seemed interminable, especially inasmuch as they were blindfolded, while their captors, they knew, bore lighted torches. But long as was the journey, they at length emerged from the tunnel and into another fortress. That such was the case, they could tell from the difference in the atmosphere. Their blindfolds, however, were not removed, nor were the lashings binding their hands behind them. They were halted in a great room, while around them was a buzz of voices. "When are they going to take off these blinkers?" Bob muttered. "I imagine, Bob," said Mr. Hampton, who overheard, "that we will be led elsewhere before the blindfolds are removed. They will want to hide from us the secret of the exit through the tunnel. Once we are in the city, we shall be as if sealed up." Such, indeed, proved to be the case. From the guardhouse, they were taken out into the open air. They could feel the hot sun beating upon them. For a considerable distance they were marched through the streets of the city. They could hear the exclamations of the populace, as they passed along, in the midst of their guards, and they had the feeling several times of crossing great open squares. No demonstrations occurred, and at length they were led up several flights of stairs, in through a great gateway where soldiers evidently were stationed, as challenges were given and answered in the Inca tongue, across a stone-flagged courtyard, and into a building. Here at length the blindfolds were removed, their wrists untied, and they could look about at their surroundings. They were in a lofty-ceiled room, walls and roof of which were of stone. The room was of great size, and there were scores of soldiery scattered about, mending tunics, polishing arms, or gossiping. It was the great assembly hall of a fortress. Had they known, this was at the exit of the tunnel, and the tour through the city had been made to confuse them. Prince Huaca approached, and addressed himself as before to Don Ernesto, whom he evidently took to be the leader of the expedition. "Senor," said he, "you are now in the central fortress of the city. You will be given quarters and food. Tomorrow I shall call upon you, and explain. Until then you will consider yourselves prisoners, but, as you are under my protection, no harm need be feared." Turning abruptly, he motioned a man bearing a great brass ring from which depended a number of heavy keys, to approach. He delivered a command in the Inca tongue, to which the other listened respectfully. Then once more he addressed Don Ernesto. "You will follow this man." Led by the jailer, and escorted by a half dozen armed men, the party crossed the great hall, passed through a doorway into a dark corridor, lighted only by unglazed slits in the walls, mounted a flight of stone steps, proceeded along another dark corridor, and then entered a room luxuriously furnished. The jailer motioned them in and, by signs, indicated this was to be their quarters. Thereupon, he left, swinging shut a tremendous metal door. The key grated in the lock. They were alone. The first thing, Jack went up to the door, and a moment later, he exclaimed in excitement: "Dad, it's bronze." Mr. Hampton moved to his side. "By George, that's so." Meantime, the others were examining the room. The floor was of stone, and here and there were thick woven rugs of alpaca wool, died in brilliant colors. About the sides stood wooden couches with thick mattresses upon them, over which were thrown covers in vivid dyes. In the middle of the room was a great table of stone, of beautiful work-manship, Food was set upon it, ready for their coming, but as Frank, who was first to make the discovery, approached the table, his eyes almost popped from his head and his voice shook with excitement, as he cried: "Fellows, look here. Gold and silver dishes, or I'll eat my hat." He was correct. Salvers, platters, great bowls, all were of gold, and the spoons of silver. Frank clasped his head in his hands with a melodramatic gesture. "They oughtn't to spring everything on us at once," he said. "I can't stand much of this." All gathered around the massive table, and from each was wrung some expression of surprise and delight. The dishes were examined closely as possible, although numbers of the larger articles could not be taken up and handled because they contained food. "Well," said Don Ernesto, at length, "I, for one, am famished. Suppose we dine before the food becomes cold." He stirred the contents of the largest bowl with a great silver spoon. "Apparently a vegetable stew," he said. "The odor is delicious. Come, I shall fill these smaller bowls and let each help himself. I promise you I shall eat heartily." "Would they poison the food, perhaps, Father?" Ferdinand inquired. "That is a foolish idea, Ferdinand. They might have disposed of us otherwise long ere this. Come, eat." All fell to with a good appetite, the two Chilian huachos, old retainers of Don Ernesto, taking their bowls apart and sitting on one of the great couches, talking together in low tones. The others stood about the table, exclaiming at this and that, the excellence of the food, the beauty of the dishes, while Don Ernesto--a polished conversationalist--held forth at length upon the advantages of a vegetable diet. "You see, there is no meat here," said he. "Perhaps these Incas are vegetarians. For such dieting goes with civilization. It is only the savages who eat nothing but meat." Presently, Bob and Frank, having finished their meal, wandered off to a loopholed wall at the far end of the room. These loopholes were long and narrow slits, and at their first glimpse through them, both boys cried out excitedly. "What is it?" cried Jack and Ferdinand, running up. The older men also approached. "Look here, Jack," said Frank, while Bob made place at his loophole for Ferdinand. The older men found others through which to gaze--long, narrow apertures in the solid masonry. Because of the thickness of the walls, the view was limited. Apparently, however, they were located on a side of the fortress which formed one of the outer walls, and because of the distance to the city seen below, this wall evidently crowned a great rock. Later, they were to learn that the rock upon which the Acropolis was built had been quarried and squared until it rose 200 feet above the city, the walls sheer, and approachable only upon one side. The hour was past noon, and from the direction of the sun they could see the valley in which lay the Enchanted City stretched east and west. They faced the east and, high though their altitude was, they could see in the distance lofty mountain peaks crowned with snows. But it was the city itself which caused each man to gasp at first sight. Everywhere nearby, showing the Acropolis was at the center of things, were great stone palaces, some private dwellings and some quite obviously public buildings. And the roofs shone in the sun as if made of gold. "Copper," explained Mr. Hampton, succinctly. "Probably they have a mine somewhere near." Beyond the palaces could be seen streets and squares and smaller houses, all of stone. Trees grew everywhere, adding to the charm of the scene. Greatest sight of all, however, was the huge central square at the base of the Acropolis. Due to their height, only that part of the square opposite could be seen. Yet that view was sufficient to give an idea of the size of the square. Opposite the fortress stood the Temple, a broad stone structure approached by a great flight of steps, at the top of which was a sacrificial altar. A lesser stone building on one side were the cloister of the vestal virgins. On the other side was the Inca's palace. From his knowledge of Inca history, Ferdinand was enabled to guess that such was the character of the buildings, and in this supposition they were later confirmed. In all the square, however, and in those thoroughfares of the city which they could observe, was no sign of life and movement. "It looks like a city of the dead," said Jack. "If I didn't know differently, I would believe we had stumbled upon an abandoned city. But the fortress certainly has occupants, as we have seen. What do you make of it, Dad?" he inquired, walking over toward his father. Mr. Hampton shook his head, and Jack turned inquiringly to Don Ernesto. The latter looked thoughtful. "There is a possibility," he said, as one cudgeling his brains to recall something once known but long out of memory. "Yet--I don't know--it seems foolish." "What?" "That these descendants of the Incas should be keeping the great annual religious ceremony of their ancestors? Yet, it is the same time of year." "Oh, Father. The annual festival of the Sun?" cried Ferdinand. Don Ernesto nodded. "Tell us about it," said Jack. "I'd like to learn all I can about these people." "Very well," said Don Ernesto. "Sit down, and I'll tell you what I can recall. The religion of the Peruvian Empire," he continued, when all had found seats around him, "expressed the feelings of the people toward their heavenly protector and their earthly ruler. They worshipped the sun and adored the reigning Inca as his descendant upon earth. For the term of Inca, you will doubtless recall, did not apply to every member of the empire, but only to those of royal blood. The legend was that the sun looking down upon the savages took pity upon them for their mode of living, and sent to earth a son, Manco Capac, and a daughter, Mama Oello, children of his own, to civilize and instruct mankind. They came to earth near the Lake of Titicaca. He gave them a rod of gold and bade them go whither they pleased, but, to remember that when they came to a place where this rod should sink into the earth, that was the place at which he wished them to abide. The legend has it that the rod disappeared in the earth at Cusco. Therefore, there they stayed, bringing the savages together, instructing them, and building up the great city that afterwards became the capital of the empire. "The worship of the sun was inevitable. Yet, you must remember, Sun-worship was not confined to Peru, but was universal. The Chaldeans, the Babylonians, the early Hindus--all worshipped the sun. Yet Sun-worship, with most races and tribes, in time passed either into some lower form of idolatry or became humanized and spiritualized. It was only amongst a few, the most remarkable of which were the Persians and the Peruvians, that the development of religion was arrested at a period when the sun was the visible, un-humanized Deity, not translated into manlike terms. "The principal religious ceremony was the annual celebration of the Feast of Raymi, at Cusco. To that great city, where the palaces were all built of huge blocks of stone of a dark slate color, came every year from all quarters of the empire the principal nobles and military men, as well as the great men of each subject race. For the Incas, you know, did not blot out the subjugated, as did their Spanish conquerors, but absorbed all that was best of the conquered into the empire. Preceding that feast was a fast, emblematic of the suffering which precedes great joy. This fast lasted three days, and during that time, Fire, which was related to the Sun, and, therefore, divine, was not used by anyone." He paused, evidently having concluded his explanation, so Frank spoke up quickly. "But, Senor, you say the use of fire was not permitted. If these descendants of the Incas keep their fast now, how is it our food has been cooked?" "I cannot say," smiled Don Ernesto. "Perhaps, though, it was some especial provision made for us prisoners." By now it was late afternoon. Already the sun had disappeared behind the western rampant of mountains, and twilight had come over the city below. Only the tops of the eastern mountains were tipped with fire. The two older men drew apart, conversing in low tones. The Chilian huachos, Pedro and Carlos, already had disposed themselves upon a couch and were asleep. The four boys stood for a long time at the loopholes, gazing down at the dimming city, in which no sign of movement was to be observed, until it was too dark longer to see. "Not a light in all that city," said Frank the sensitive. "This is certainly an eerie experience." "I wonder what tomorrow will bring," said Jack. "Prince Huaca said he would call then," added Bob. "Well," said Ferdinand, philosophically, "I suppose we might as well dispose ourselves for sleep. There is nothing else to do." "Here's my flashlight," said Bob, throwing its rays about. "Had it on me when I was captured. At least we can see our way to the couches." CHAPTER XIII--THE FEAST OF RAYMI "Fellows, what's that?" Bob rolled over drowsily, then fell to the stone floor with a thump that effectually awakened him. He looked up. Jack stood above him, grinning. Bob rubbed his hip ruefully, then got to his feet. Frank, with whom he had been sleeping, also clambered out of bed. Gray light coming in through the loopholes to the east lighted the room only dimly. Ferdinand and his father still slept on the couch which they had shared together. Mr. Hampton, who had slept with Jack, was not awake, nor were the two huachos. "What in---" Bob was still rubbing his hip. "Listen," said Jack. "There. That dull humming sound. What is it? I lay awhile, half asleep, half waking, before I got up. Then I stopped to shake you fellows awake. Come on, let's look out of these loopholes." "The Sun's not yet up," grumbled big Bob. "Why in the world do you have to beat him? Having such a good time of it, that you hate to miss a minute?" Nevertheless, he followed Jack and Frank to the loopholes. The humming sound referred to was louder. For several moments they stared through the apertures, unable to see anything in the dark square below. But the light grew momentarily stronger, as the sun neared the top of the eastern rampart of the valley. Then objects began to grow and took form in the lessening shadows. "Whew," exclaimed Bob, in an awed tone. "Did you ever----" "And I said last night it looked like a city of the dead," said Frank. As for Jack, he deserted his loophole and, gaining his father's side, shook him into wakefulness. "Come here, Dad. What a sight." What a sight, indeed! The others were roused and summoned, too. For the great square was packed with humanity, rank upon rank of people, on their knees, facing the Temple and the east. At that moment, the sun shot above the horizon. And all that great multitude of people bowed forward, touching their hands to their lips, and then flinging their arms wide to the Sun. The serried ranks were dressed in gorgeous costumes. Many wore wreaths upon their heads. Many wore ornaments of gold and silver that reflected back the light of the sun in myriad flashings. And on standards high above the multitude flapped great imperial banners, stirring lazily in the breeze that brought the dawn. "Ah," said Don Ernesto, breaking the silence of stupefaction which had enthralled them, "I was right. Now we shall see something. It is their great festival. The fast has come to an end." "Look," said Jack excitedly, "Who is that?" He pointed to a figure, upright amidst all those kneeling figures, the only dark spot, moreover, amidst those gaily-clad hosts. He wore a robe descending to his feet, so darkly crimson that it appeared to be black. "That," said Don Ernesto, "is the Inca." But Jack had run back to the table and picked up the field glasses which he had placed there on retiring the night before. "No. The Inca?" he cried. "Why, it is--No, not Prince Huaca, but he looks so much like him. Yet he is older. And, wait. There is Prince Huaca near him. Look, Father, that man on the left." Meantime, a fascinating ceremony was transpiring in the square. From the hands of Vestal Virgins, clothed all in white, the Inca took two great golden goblets filled with wine. Lifting the one in his right hand to the sun, as if drinking a pledge, he set it to his lips. Then, solemnly, he poured the wine from the goblet into a wide-mouthed jar of gold. "Why is he doing that, I wonder?" cried Frank. "Do you know, Don Ernesto?" "I don't know for certain. But I believe the wine is supposed to flow through a golden conduit into the Temple. Thus the Sun may drink the wine pledged to him." Next the Inca drank from the goblet in his left hand. Then turning to the nearest of the kneeling figures, those wearing capes of darkest crimson, of which there were eight, including Prince Huaca, he poured out the remainder of the wine into goblets which they held extended. "They must be members of the royal family," surmised Bob "Yes," agreed Don Ernesto. "The other nobles, and the common people will get a lesser wine, as well as the special bread made for this occasion. Ah, my reading all comes back to me now. But who would think to see that ancient ceremony of the Feast of Raymi reproduced today by the descendants of the Children of the Sun?" As he had prophesied, so it came to pass. For now young women all in white could be seen making their way through the kneeling throng. But their mission was not yet to be carried out. They merely took their appointed stations. Then those of royal blood arose and moved in slow and stately procession behind the Inca toward the Temple. At the base of the steps they removed their sandals. They then entered the Temple. "Probably to make offerings to their Deity," said Don Ernesto. The multitude continued kneeling, indicating that the ceremony was not yet over. Presently the Inca and the members of his family returned to the square. They came out of the Temple empty-handed. "Those goblets from which they drank," said Don Ernesto, who at the moment had the field glasses. "Those have been left behind. Those were their offerings." Following the Inca came a patriarchal man in a white robe bordered with crimson, upon his head a golden disk from which protruded a great number of golden spikes. This they took to be the High Priest. Following him were attendant priests bearing a large number of animals, including a black lamb. This was slaughtered first, and examined by the High Priest for the auguries. Then the other animals were sacrificed, certain parts being offered on the altar to the Sun, the balance distributed by the lesser priests among the multitude to be roasted at great fires which now were lighted in the square. At the same time, the women in white, the Vestal Virgins, who earlier had taken station in the throng, began distributing the special bread of the festival. All this required a long time in the doing, but the boys and their elders watched with unabated interest, moving about a little now and then from one loophole to another to converse, shifting position occasionally to relieve the irksomeness. As for Pedro and Carlos, they had produced a deck of cards and, squatting on the stone floor, were playing a game between themselves, untouched by the romance of the spectacle in the square. Presently, the feasting having come to an end, the Inca, the members of his family and other nobles in the multitude withdrew toward a side of the square which, from the loopholes, was not under observation. Then the throng broke up in scattered groups, here and there spaces were cleared, while the observers packed themselves around in dense formation and, in these cleared spaces, dancers appeared. "Ah," said Don Ernesto, "now the festival has begun. They will make merry for a long time. See, wine is being distributed to everybody." But at that moment, Pedro called to his master, and Don Ernesto turned about. So did Mr. Hampton and the boys. The door had been opened to admit Prince Huaca. He stood within the room, while the door swung to again behind him, his face inscrutable. After a moment of hesitation, Don Ernesto advanced to meet him. "We have been looking," he began. Prince Huaca bowed slightly. "Yes?" "At your great festival." Prince Huaca smiled. "For the common people." "I do not understand." "Perhaps, some day----" Prince Huaca made a slight gesture with his right hand, as if to dismiss the subject. "Senor, sit here with me," he said, indicating a couch. "I would talk with you. Let these others watch a little longer. Then my servants will bring you food, so that you, too, may feast." "I am honored," said Don Ernesto. However, he hesitated to be seated. "Pardon me," he said, "if I point out that these"--indicating Mr. Hampton and the boys, who were at the far end of the room--"are my son and my very good friend and his young men. Perhaps, what you wish to say is for their ears, too?" "Ah, I did not understand," said Prince Huaca, courteously. "Then they are not your servants?" "No, only these two," answered Don Ernesto, indicating Pedro and Carlos, who had withdrawn from their vicinity. "And they are old family servants." Prince Huaca considered. At that moment the great bronze door again was opened, and a number of servants entered, bowed low before Prince Huaca, removed the dishes from the table and then returned bearing other dishes, this time including meat. Throughout the process, Prince Huaca sat silent, nor did Ernesto venture to disturb him. When the servants at length had withdrawn, the prince arose. "Eat," said he, "and, when you have refreshed yourselves, my servants shall bring you and your friends to me. Assure your old servants they have nothing to fear in being separated from you." When he had gone, Don Ernesto lost no time in communicating the purport of the conversation to Mr. Hampton and the boys. Pedro and Carlos took the news philosophically. The food was excellent, the meat roasted and hot. All ate with good appetite. There were goblets of mild, honey-like wine, which Don Ernesto recommended highly. At the conclusion of the meal, the servants returned bearing ewers of water and rough towels, with which they bathed face and hands. Then, one of the servants gestured that Don Ernesto and his companions were to follow, and, bidding Pedro and Carlos have no worry, the party set out. CHAPTER XIV--PRINCE HUACA FRIENDLY "Look here, Jack," said Frank, as the three chums kept step together along the corridor, while Ferdinand walked ahead with Mr. Hampton and his father, Don Ernesto. "Look here, what do you think our chances of escape are going to be?" "I don't know." Jack shook his head. As for big Bob, he growled a comment. "Why worry? I'm having a good time. I want to learn all about this city. And the treasure, too, that we came for, it----" "Oh, we'll have to give up that idea now," said Jack. "We can't rob these people. If the Enchanted City had been abandoned and in ruins, and we had discovered it, that would have been a different matter." Frank took no part in this discussion. It wasn't treasure of which he was thinking. "Just the same, Bob," he interrupted, "we ought to be thinking of how we can escape, for I have an idea that these people intend to keep us imprisoned for life or, as Don Ernesto says, persuade us to join the nation." "Why not?" said Bob. "I'd like to be a captain in this man's army. These Incas look like fine material for soldiers, and with our military school knowledge we ought to be able to drill them in modern tactics." "And with our knowledge of radio and other modern inventions and discoveries," supplemented Jack, "we would be invaluable. We could rise to high positions in the state." "What," exclaimed Frank, "and stay here all our lives?" "Well, why not?" "Oh, he wants to go home to Della," said big Bob, mentioning the name of his sister, with whom Frank was in love. Frank flushed, but did not reply. "I'm not keen on staying here forever, either," said Jack quickly; for his thoughts more and more during their South American stay had turned to Senorita Rafaela in her Sonora mountains, and Bob's reference to Frank and Della had brought her again to mind. "Just the same, this would be a paradise of a place in which to live if it were brought in touch with the outside world." "So you think you'd get to be a big gun here and then open the Enchanted City to civilization?" asked Frank. "It might be done," said Jack. "Well, after seeing that religious ceremony, I doubt it. The Incas would not want to give up their supreme power, and they know they would have to do that if their country were opened up. Chile or Argentine would absorb the country." "Oh, not necessarily," answered Jack. "This country might remain independent, an inland empire." "An absolute empire couldn't survive long in a land of republics," said Frank, "especially when this country is small." "Small, yes," agreed Bob. "But it is powerful. The Incas in the beginning were few in number, but good fighters with fine military organizations. From their mountain heights in the North they overflowed and conquered their tremendous empire. Perhaps their descendants aim to step out some day from these mountain heights in the South, and do the same." "What folly, Bob," said Frank. "They would be up against modern nations with modern implements of war." "Well, can't they learn to make modern war?" asked Bob. "They've got some able instructors in military tactics here to teach them." Jack and Frank, recalling that in anything pertaining to military science Bob had beaten both at Harrington Hall, smiled at each other. Some men apparently are born warriors. And Bob was of the number. Further conversation along this line was halted by their coming up with the others. They had been moving up and down corridors and short flights of steps while talking, and had taken little note of the length of the passage to Prince Huaca's apartments. Mr. Hampton, however, commented on that fact as they approached. The boys seemed surprised. "What are we waiting for?" asked Bob. "To be announced." For the first time the boys noticed they stood before a great closed door on either side of which Inca soldiers, six feet tall, impassive of countenance, mounted guard. Their guide had disappeared within. Then the door was opened and they were ushered into an anteroom, of which they had no time to take particular note, except to see that a number of young nobles stood about in groups, talking, for they were taken at once through this room and into an inner chamber. Here sat Prince Huaca at a table, writing. It was a small table of polished wood, the top mounted on the back of a crouching lion, beautifully carved. The room itself, while large, was considerably smaller than their apartment, and was severely furnished. A number of couches stood about. To these Prince Huaca motioned, with the request that they be seated, and meantime continued his writing. Presently, having finished the task, he sanded the paper to dry the ink, then rolled it into a scroll, about which he tied a cord of gold and purple threads. The missive then was handed to the man who had guided them, with an order delivered in the Inca tongue, and the man departed, leaving them alone with the prince. "Be not dismayed," he said, turning to his guests. "I would know what brought you to the Forbidden Land. Few are the men who have come thither, for our fastnesses are impregnable and the outer valley where you were captured can be stumbled upon only by accident. And of those whom I have captured in the past or my fathers before me, none within two hundred years came seeking us, but found their way thither only by accident. You, however, I am certain, came seeking us. Is it not so?" Directly appealed to, Don Ernesto agreed. "Your Highness, it is." "Call me Prince Huaca," said the other, simply. "Yes, it is as I thought. And it was this which led you?" He held a manuscript aloft. It was the de Pereira manuscript, in archaic Spanish, Spanish as old as that spoken by Prince Huaca. "It was that which brought us." "Senor," said Prince Huaca, "I cannot believe that you came expecting to find a nation in existence." "We thought but to find abandoned ruins." Prince Huaca was silent, thoughtful. "Pray, Prince Huaca," said Mr. Hampton, speaking for the first time, "may we not state our surprise to find that a powerful people exists here unknown to the world at large and unsuspected? Moreover, surpassing in my mind the mystery of how you have kept your secret through the centuries----" "Eternal vigilance," interrupted Prince Huaca. "Well," continued Mr. Hampton, "surpassing that mystery, I say, is that of how you have maintained a healthy and, doubtless, growing population within this restricted territory." "State supervision and control of families, lands, everything, but----" Prince Huaca arose abruptly, and moved up and down before them, his face dark, his sandals making no sound. He paused before them. "We need more land," said he. "Some of us are for marching out with our armies to conquer. But some, like myself----Ah, you have come at a critical time in our life." He paused, his eyes searching their faces keenly. "I do not know why I talk to you like this," he said. "But something within bids me have faith, bids me trust you. "Ah, I would know of the world beyond our mountain fastnesses. Without knowledge a man is like a worm crawling in the soil. But when he knows, it is like the Sun shedding his beneficent light into the gorges of our mountains and dispelling the gloom. You come from this outside world. You are not commoners, like the one or two we have captured in the Forbidden Land in other days. No, you are nobles, men of knowledge and power. This I can see from certain objects among your possessions." He waved his hand to a corner of the room, which hitherto had not been noticed. The boys and the older men looked whither he pointed. There stood all their luggage. "In your possessions are many strange objects," Prince Huaca continued. "Books in the royal tongue, for so," he added, proudly, "we call the Spanish which only those of Inca lineage intermarried with de Arguello and his Conquistadores speak. These books puzzle me, for, though they are in Spanish, yet it is changed from the Spanish which I speak. In truth, as you note, we have some little difficulty in understanding each the other. It is only this," and he held up the de Pereira manuscript, "which is in the tongue I learned." "And there are other objects. Strange threads that gleam and cannot be broken." "Our copper wire for the radio outfit," said Jack, involuntarily. He spoke in English. Prince Huaca stared puzzled. "I do not understand." "He speaks in another tongue, Prince Huaca," said Mr. Hampton. "Still another than Spanish?" "Yes. In the world without are a hundred different tongues." Prince Huaca was dumbfounded. He stared at Mr. Hampton, as if in disbelief. He turned to Don Ernesto. "And is this so?" "Yes, it is the truth." Prince Huaca abruptly returned to his seat, and placed his head in his hands. He sat, bowed in thought. None interrupted. Presently, he again looked up. "And are all these peoples powerful?" "Their numbers are as of the sands of the sea," said Don Ernesto, thinking to quote an impressive figure. But Prince Huaca merely appeared puzzled, and the Don hastily remembered he could know nothing of the ocean, and amended himself: "They are in number like the leaves of the forest. They have built mighty cities. There is one beyond your mountains to the east called Buenos Ayres where dwell more than two million souls. They----" "But can they read and write, can they do this?" cried Prince Huaca, eagerly. "Our ancestors, the ancient Incas of Cusco, kept accounts only by means of quippus, knotted strings. But we of Inca lineage here have that knowledge of reading and writing handed down to us by the three priests of de Arguello. This is knowledge, and power." "Today, the simplest of the commoners can read and write in that world beyond your mountains," said Mr. Hampton. "Even Pedro and Carlos, my friend's servants, have this knowledge." Once more Prince Huaca was silent, digesting this. Then he said: "But has not too much learning made them weak, so that they are like women and cannot fight?" "On the contrary, Prince, they fight with weapons that slay at great distances, with ships that fly in the air like birds and drop death upon those below. And yet," added Mr. Hampton, "they seek these peoples, to live in peace with each other. No longer is it considered great to make war. Those who set out to conquer find all other peoples banded together against them." Prince Huaca once more fell into a manner of abstraction, from which the others made no effort to arouse him. Presently, he lifted his head, and there was an expression of resolution on his features. "Senor," said he, "that is all for the present. These matters that you have told me, however, I shall lay at once before the Council. Do you, therefore, hold yourselves in readiness to appear and be questioned? Meantime, I shall order your possessions restored to you, on one condition." He paused, expectantly. "What is that?" asked Mr. Hampton. "That these strange devices be explained to me, and that they be not used to cause evil to us." He lifted aside a heavy cloth of gold from an end of this table, revealing beneath portions of the radio outfit brought by Mr. Hampton. The others looked at each other. One thought was in every mind. How explain the phenomenon of radio to an idolator to whom it could mean nothing other than witchcraft and wizardry? Then Mr. Hampton had an idea. "In these South American forests," said he, "particularly in that jungle land beyond the mountains whence came your ancestors, Prince Huaca, the Indian tribesmen have a method of communicating to each other without the use of runners. They place along the bank of a river a hollow log, upon which they tap certain tappings with a hammer. Miles away, with his ear to another hollow log upon the river bank, a man hears that message." "Of this I have heard something," said Prince Huaca. "The sound," said Mr. Hampton, "travels along the water. But this device before you is for the purpose of sending sound through the air, as if a man had a voice which could be heard from here to ancient Cusco, thousands of miles distant. This is only one of the many wonders known to the world outside your mountains today." He stopped, unwilling to venture upon a detailed explanation that could not be understood, fearful that, perhaps, he already had said too much, that Prince Huaca would consider him either a great liar or a great wizard, and would act accordingly. The prince, however, did not change expression. "Could you call men from beyond the mountains to Cuso Hurrin?" "To what place?" "That is the name of our city." Mr. Hampton struggled with himself. If he admitted the power that the radio outfit put at his command, doubtless Prince Huaca would take it from him, and their chances of bringing rescuers, if that proved necessary, would vanish. Nevertheless, he was a truthful man. "Yes," said he, simply. "It could be done." Prince Huaca was silent. "And who among you understands this best?" Once more Mr. Hampton hesitated. Perhaps the prince planned to slay whichever member of the party he considered was the operative. "I mean you no harm," said Prince Huaca, rightly interpreting his hesitancy. "I would but learn more of this marvel." "These boys," said Mr. Hampton, indicating Jack, Frank and Bob. "They are familiar with this marvel and even have added to it by little improvements." "Then," said the prince, "I shall ask them to come to my quarters here and teach me. Perhaps we shall employ your marvel. I would learn about it. It may be useful. I shall keep it here. Meantime, do you go to your apartment while I go to the Council. And hold yourselves in readiness for my summons." CHAPTER XV--BEFORE THE COUNCIL The balance of that day was one filled with foreboding. Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto, an hour or so after their dismissal by Prince Huaca, were summoned by a servant again to his apartments with the understanding that they were to be escorted thence to appear before the Inca's Council. Left to themselves, the four boys chatted together at first about their strange interview; but, as the hours passed with no word from the older men, they grew more and more to feel as if some evil impended, and lapsed at length into a gloomy silence. Bob flung himself on a couch in a doze, Ferdinand stood at a loophole, gazing out upon the great square where the merriment continued unabated. It would last eight days, Prince Huaca had said. Jack and Frank tried to find oblivion in books among their belongings, but with ill success. As for the two huachos, Pedro and Carlos, they took the matter philosophically, and continued their endless game of cards. "This is driving me mad," said Jack, at length, tossing aside his book. "The afternoon is going fast, and it will soon be night. Already the square is in shadow below, and it is too dim to read. Where can they be? What can have detained them?" An interruption came in the form of the servants, who had brought their food previously, and who now again entered, cleared the table, and set out food once more. For a moment, the wild idea of attempting to overcome them and make a bolt for Prince Huaca's apartments, in search of his father came to Jack. But he quickly put it aside, for in the outer corridor he glimpsed the armed guards who had accompanied the servants. "Thank goodness, they brought a light," he ejaculated, after the servants had departed, leaving behind, beside the food, a gold vessel filled with oil in which burned a wick that gave a clear, bright flame. "Well, you fellows that are hungry, fall to. I couldn't eat a bite." Frank went up to him and put an arm over his shoulders. "Come on, old man," he said. "I know how you feel. But it is foolish to worry. Your Dad has just been spinning so many fairy tales about the modern world that he has these old boys sitting there with their eyes popping out, and they won't let him go; they want him to tell them some more yarns. He'll be back, all right, presently, and the Inca probably will be coming along with him to see what we look like. 'The Young Wizards, hey?' he'll say. 'Pleased to meet you. Trot out a few tricks for us.' And you want to have a full stomach, then, or how can you perform well? Come on, come on." And, laughing and jollying, Frank pushed Jack to the table, and in similar fashion rounded up Ferdinand, then tumbled the snoring Bob to the floor, whereat Pedro and Carlos chuckled, and under the spell of his geniality, a measure of confidence and cheer was restored to the group. As they were in the midst of eating, the key once more grated in the lock and Jack, with an eager cry, sprang toward the door, Ferdinand a close second. Nor were they disappointed, for Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto were ushered in by the guard. "Well boys, did you think we were never going to return?" asked Mr. Hampton, cheerfully. A glance at Jack had revealed to him the worry in his son's face. A chorus of replies answered. "Jack would have it that the pair of you were cut up in mince meat to be fed to the Inca," said Frank, after the chorus had died down. "But I told him the Inca was probably feeding out of your hand." "Not quite that," said Mr. Hampton. "But we are hungry. Let us have a minute's chance to eat a bit, and then we'll tell you what happened." The boys were eager to hear, but forebore until it appeared Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto had satisfied their appetites. Then the dishes were pushed to one end of the table and, standing about the other end, upon which reposed the lamp, or leaning upon it, for there were no chairs in the apartment, they began to ply the two older men with questions. "What was it like?" "Could they all speak Spanish?" "What did they ask you?" "Did you tell them about the modern inventions?" "Anything said about radio?" Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto threw up their hands. "One at a time, one at a time," protested Mr. Hampton. "And, perhaps, you had better let us tell this in our own way. No, Jack, there was nothing about radio. Prince Huaca cautioned us not to speak of it. I don't know--but I think he wants to hold that back for some purpose of his own. And I, for one, am perfectly willing to abet him. For, after what we learned today, it looks as if we would need a friend." "That is right," agreed Don Ernesto. "Why, Dad," asked Jack, anxiously, "What do you mean?" "Well, it looks as if there were two parties at court. In fact, really three." "What, Dad? What are they?" "Well, first I must tell you we did not see the Inca, but only the Council. Two parties are for starting out of this isolation and conquering a lot of land, in order to make room for the growing population, which, despite all efforts of the State--such as keeping many young women from raising families by putting them in the Convent of the Vestal Virgins--is becoming a problem. One of these parties is blindly confident the world has not advanced and that the Inca's armies can assert their power. The other recalls the history of the coming of the Spaniards to old Cusco, which caused their forefathers to flee thither, and believes it must arm itself with white man's knowledge first. This we learned from Prince Huaca." "But what is the danger to us in that? We know how foolish either project would be?" "Yes," said Mr. Hampton gravely, turning to Frank who had asked the question, "but the party which is blindly confident of the Inca's ability to sweep all before him, would prefer to make a beginning with us. They would like to sacrifice us to the Sun God before setting forth. And what happened to the Incas after that would not matter very much to us." "Whew," said Bob, "the bloody rascals." "And the third party, Dad?" "Prince Huaca heads the third party," Mr. Hampton said. "That is the party which, like the others, believes the centuries-old isolation of Cusco Hurrin must be broken up, in order that the inhabitants may have more territory in which to grow. But it is against attempting to use force of arms, believing my words that the outside world is too powerful to be overcome. It is inclined to discuss the possibility of sending ambassadors to the surrounding nations and opening relations, provided it can be assured that such a course will not be merely to invite destruction as was the case in old Cusco when the Inca Atahualpa opened his country to Pizarro, only to be destroyed treacherously by the Spaniards." "And they told you all this?" "Oh, no, Jack," Mr. Hampton said. "There were ten men in the Council, all of Incarial blood, the highest nobles of the country. Prince Huaca is a nephew of the present Inca, who is childless, and thus is his heir. He is the Captain of the Fortress, holder of the Tunnel Way. But I can see he has bitter enemies, and some of them have the ear of the Inca, chief among them being the High Priest, Cinto. Much that I have told you was not brought out directly at the Council, but was told us later by Prince Huaca, with whom we have been alone a second time since leaving the Council, and for a considerable period." "Did they question you about the outside world? And what did you tell them?" "Yes," said Mr. Hampton, "it was that of which we spoke. We told them in a general way of cannon, airplanes, steamships, automobiles and so on. But we did not speak of the telegraph or of radio." "Because Prince Huaca asked you not to?" "That was the reason, yes. You see, he is a remarkable man. With no previous knowledge of the wonders of the world, he has accepted without question what we have told him. At once, apparently, after our first interview, the one which you boys attended, his mind busied itself with some plan or other, of which I haven't the least idea, to use radio for his own purposes. And he wants any hint of it kept secret from the other members of the Council." "I wonder what he has in mind," said Jack. "I cannot guess," replied his father. "Father," said Ferdinand, "what is your opinion of Prince Huaca?" Thus appealed to, Don Ernesto, who had kept silence, permitting Mr. Hampton to act as spokesman, smiled a little. "He is a very wonderful man," said he. "As my friend, Senor Hampton, says, he has accepted as true and natural whatever we have told him. Members of the Council were inclined to scout our words, to believe us liars. Their minds were not big enough to compass the wonders of which we spoke. But it is not so with Prince Huaca. There is a man of great native intelligence, one who with education would be a genius. He seems to me born to rule, a natural leader of man, with a dominant personality." To this estimate, Mr. Hampton gave emphatic assent. "As he told you boys," he added, "archaic Spanish is handed down in the Incarial families. The ten members of the Council speak and understand it in a measure. But none so well as he. He frequently acted as our interpreter. And not only does he know Spanish, but Latin, for the priests of de Arguello's expedition were learned men and had with them some textbooks which, written on parchment, have been preserved. From these he has educated himself, and, though his pronunciation of Latin is not the best in the world, he has done surprisingly well. He showed us an ancient Latin dictionary, and a Caesar's Gallic Wars." Bob groaned. "And he has read 'Caesar'?" "Yes." "All I can say is he's a better man than I am," said Bob, who had entered Yale with a condition in Latin. Frank and Jack laughed. In the momentary silence that followed, the shouts and laughter of the great crowd in the square below came up to them. "Listen to that, will you?" said Bob. "And they'll be keeping that up all night, too, I expect." "For eight days," said Mr. Hampton. "Look," said Frank, who had approached a loophole. "See that fellow with a wreath of golden leaves around his head, holding up the wine cup. Gold it is, too. He's reciting. See them all laugh and applaud. What a scene, that ring around him, the firelight on them! He must be a poet or minstrel. Golly, how I wish I could be down there, dressed in a tunic and sandals, and mixing around in that crowd. Say, but wouldn't that be an experience for you?" "Surely would," said Jack, looking over his shoulder. "Listen, though, somebody coming." The key turned in the lock of the great door. CHAPTER XVI--RADIO A LINK TO THE PAST All swung about. It was their jailer, a pleasant-faced fellow, who, like all within the fortress, Prince Huaca had assured Mr. Hampton, was loyal to his commander. He indicated by signs that the boys and the two older men were to follow. Don Ernesto turned to Pedro and Carlos. "Do not fear," said he. "I expect that Prince Huaca wants to see us. We shall return." "We would go with you," said Pedro. When they started to do so, however, the jailer waved them back. Pedro shrugged. "It is fate," said he. "We shall sleep." "Fear not," Don Ernesto reassured him. "I shall look after you." As they moved along the corridor, it became apparent from the direction that their destination was, as Don Ernesto had surmised, Prince Huaca's apartment. But what could he want with them? Had anything untoward occurred in the Inca's Council? Were his enemies on the move against him? These questions occurred to all. "It is unexpected, his sending for us," Mr. Hampton said. "He gave no indication, when dismissing us the last time, that he would send for us again so soon." The jailer bore a torch which flickered and smoked as they passed loopholes at turns in the corridor, making the silent passageways, with their walls of stone, where none but themselves moved, seem even more ghastly and far from civilization than otherwise would have been the case. There was little conversation. Unlike their first trip over this route, the boys kept silent. What they had been told of the Council meeting had sobered their spirits. From these stone hallways within that vast fortress, standing in the heart of the Enchanted City, for so they still termed Cusco Hurrin among themselves, it was a far cry to New York or even Santiago. To more than one it seemed as if the possibility that they would ever return to the outside world was in the gravest doubt. Instead of taking them through the anteroom into Prince Huaca's apartment, the guide turned aside before the guards were reached, pressed a stone in the wall of the corridor, which swung back, revealing the entrance to a narrow secret passage and then stepped in and beckoned the others reassuringly to follow. Once all had entered, he swung the stone back into place. Then he led the way a short distance to another stone which he also swung aside. They stepped through the doorway and found themselves in the prince's inner chamber, alone. With a nod, the guide bade them be seated, and disappeared the way he had come. The stone swung back into place. Before they had time for conjecture, Prince Huaca appeared from the antechamber. "Ah, Senores," said he, as they rose at this entrance, "I have sent for you. Be seated." He sat down by the table and was silent for a space, staring keenly from one to the other. "Tonight," said he suddenly, "affairs have come to a crisis in Cusco Hurrin. The Inca is old. The High Priest, Cinto, who has his ear, fears me. He has made capital of my appearance today with you before the Council. To the Inca who, like an old man, clings with love to life and finds it sweeter as it grows to an end, he has said that I am in league with devils and that you are evil spirits, and not men from the outside world, who spoke as you did in order to aid my plans to seize the supreme power and slay the Inca. "Tomorrow I am to be asked again to bring you before the Council, and then we shall be seized and slain. "But palaces have ears, and all that was said by this evil man, Cinto, has reached me. And I would forestall him." He paused. Mr. Hampton looked puzzled. "But, Prince Huaca," he objected, "must you not obey the Inca's command and appear with us, or place yourself in rebellion?" "It is so," agreed the prince. "Nor do I wish to rebel. Yet if I am slain, my people will be destroyed, for there will be only foolish men to guide them." "Then you will rebel?" "The fortress troops are loyal to me," said Prince Huaca. "And I hold the Tunnel Way, without which food from the country district cannot reach the city. That is why they would seize me by stratagem and treachery. Open attack upon me here by the palace guard which Cinto's nephew Guascar commands would be folly. Long have my enemies plotted to compass my downfall, but insidious though they were, the Inca had not reached that stage of suspicion of me that he could be asked to cause my death. "Now, however," he added, "Cinto has taken my championship of the truth of what reports you bring from the outside world to work upon the Inca's credulous mind. "No, I do not wish to rebel, and cause bloodshed among my people. I do not desire power for itself alone, but in order that I may help my people, not enslave them." He was silent, thinking, and Mr. Hampton and the others respected his silence. "Too long," he resumed, "have we lived cut off from the world. These marvels of which you have told me, these advantages shared by common men, I want them for my people." "And if you are killed," said Mr. Hampton, "what will happen?" "Ruin," said the prince. He arose. "But it shall not be," he added, with energy. "I shall not be slain. And, on the contrary, I shall lead my people out of ignorance, aye, out from the ignorance of bondage." He strode up and down. "And you," he added, halting suddenly before the others, "you shall help me." "Willingly, Prince Huaca," said Mr. Hampton. "But in what way?" "You say the peoples surrounding us are peace-loving?" "Yes." "If their leaders knew of Cusco Hurrin, they would not seek to conquer and enslave us as did the Conquerors to ancient Cusco and Inca Atahualpa?" Mr. Hampton looked at Don Ernesto and bowed. "Prince Huaca," said the latter, "I have not told you. But I am the brother-in-law of the President of Chile. That is the nation within whose boundaries lies Cusco Hurrin. The President is the ruler. He rules not by force of arms, not by divine right, but because the people have selected him to administer affairs of State for them. I can assure you that no conquest of Cusco Hurrin will be attempted, if you seek in peace to break from your isolation." "But, Father," objected Ferdinand, quickly, "it would take a long time to send a message to Uncle, and meanwhile there would be civil war here." Ferdinand spoke so rapidly that Prince Huaca was unable to follow him. "What says the young man?" he asked. Don Ernesto repeated. Prince Huaca pointed to the radio outfit, still on his table. "But, cannot the voice-through-the-air carry your message?" So it was something like this which Prince Huaca had in mind? This, then, was the reason for his interest in the subject of radio? This was why he had asked them not to speak of radio before the Council? Mr. Hampton looked dubious. "It cannot carry the message far enough," said he, slowly. Over Prince Huaca's face came a shadow of despair. He sat down suddenly, leaned his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands. He was like a man famished for water, to whose lips a cup had been held, only to be withdrawn as he was about to drink. Jack felt immensely sorry. He wanted to be of help. At the same time, his brain was revolving an idea. "But, Father," he began. Ere he could complete his sentence, however, Prince Huaca interrupted. He jumped to his feet and stood with his hands firmly gripping the table. "I will not let myself be overcome," he said. "If the voice-through-the-air cannot carry the message, then you, Senor de Avilar, must go to your brother-in-law and tell him what I desire, that he shall come in peace but with an army sufficient to overawe Cinto. "Ah," he cried, "I can trust you? They will not come to loot Cusco Hurrin and slay my people, but to make friends and teach them?" "Only so will they come," said Don Ernesto, deeply moved at the other's sincerity and earnestness. "I promise." "It will be long," said Prince Huaca. "But," he added, resolutely, "I shall defend the fortress and, if there be bloodshed, yet will it be less than if Cinto had his way." As he ceased speaking, Jack found his opportunity. "But, Prince Huaca," he said excitedly, "the voice-through-the-air can be made to carry your message." "What?" Prince Huaca whirled to face this new speaker. It was a habit of his to stare steadily and searchingly into the eyes of whomever he conversed with. "Yes, it can be done," said Jack. "But how?" It was Don Ernesto who asked. "Very simply," said Jack. "Let me explain so that Prince Huaca can comprehend. This outfit, sir"--and, rising and walking to the table, Jack indicated the radio outfit reposing there--"can receive messages sent from very far away, but it cannot send messages except for a comparatively short distance, 150 miles at most. It was that which my father had in mind. "However, at the Andine Monastery of the Cross of the Snows, Don Ernesto, you will remember that we built a sending station by utilizing the water power in the falls and the turbines of the power plant. I cannot explain more clearly to you, Prince Huaca," he added, addressing the latter, "without going into too great detail. But this will make it clearer to you. We can send the voice-through-the-air to another station, which in turn, will send it farther, just as one runner carries a message which he transfers to another." Prince Huaca nodded, his eyes bright and expectant. "And from the monastery, Jack?" suggested his father. "Why, Father, you yourself told me that _La Prensa_, the great newspaper of Buenos Ayres, doubtless had established a radio station at its branch office in Santiago, the Chilian capital. Although when we were in Santiago," added Jack, "we were so busy with other matters I did not hear of it, or go to investigate." "True, Jack," said Mr. Hampton. "Don Ernesto has told me _La Prensa_ had installed a radio station at Santiago. Of course, too, there is a commercial station at Valparaiso." "But the one at Santiago can reach the President more quickly," said Jack. CHAPTER XVII--THE FIGHT ON THE PARAPET So it was decided to set up the field radio and attempt to raise the monastery. Prince Huaca had had the party brought to his room by way of the secret passage, in order to avoid having them appear among the young nobles in waiting in his anteroom. As the boys would have to be taken to the roof to set up the aerial, he first dismissed those in the anteroom, then called servants to carry the outfit to the battlements. Don Ernesto, however, begged permission that Pedro and Carlos be summoned to assist, instead of servants who could not understand them. Prince Huaca acquiesced, and sent the jailer for the two faithful huachos. He, himself, was eager to observe every preparatory step. Self-contained though he was, and despite his matter-of-fact acceptance of the phenomenon of radio, yet it was plain to be seen that he was highly excited over the matter. Everything had to be explained to him. For his field outfit, Mr. Hampton carried both batteries and a quarter-kilowatt generator, such as is in use in army operations. In fact, the outfit paralleled an army field outfit in a number of respects, including the umbrella type of aerial. This consisted of only one pole of hollow steel, and constructed in collapsible sections that made transportation an easy matter. From the top of the pole, the wires of the aerial were carried to the ground at some distance from the base, where they were attached to porcelain insulators. Thus, the wires served the double function of aerial and guy wires. While the boys busied themselves erecting the aerial, a difficult matter because the battlement was all of stone and at first glance there appeared to be nothing to which the insulators could be fastened, Mr. Hampton conversed with Prince Huaca, explaining this, that and the other about the outfit and about the reasons for doing certain things. The prince pointed to what Jack and Frank were doing, and asked the reason for it. The boys were forcing wedge-shaped wooden blocks or pegs, to which insulators were fastened, into cracks between stones of the turret floor. Originally, these pegs were so made to be driven into the ground, thus affording anchorage for the aerial-guy wires. Had it not been for the cracks, they would have been unable to erect the aerial, as all about them was stone. When this work was completed, the boys, working furiously, set up the generator on a pair of legs sufficiently high to give clearance for the handles by which it was to be turned. Wires were then run to the transformer, tuner attached, the headphone wired on, and the aerial and ground connections made. Part of the outfit was not yet in use, and Prince Huaca pointed to the box and batteries questioningly. "Are these objects not employed?" he said. Mr. Hampton explained he had brought both batteries and generator to serve as sources of energy. They had been packed separately upon mules, so that in case one was lost the other might still remain. When the batteries were used, it was necessary also to use the tube transformer, he said, indicating the oblong box in which the tubes were mounted on springs. But when the generator was used, only the transformer and key were necessary. "And why is this used rather than the other?" Prince Huaca wanted to know. "The generator supplies more power," said Mr. Hampton, simplifying his explanation as much as possible. "It is a little man with a big voice that carries far, while the batteries represent a big man with only a medium voice." Fast though the boys went about their preparations, in the light of torches held by servants, the time sped by more rapidly than they had expected. All the time there came up to them the shouts and laughter of those in the great square far below, where the festivities of the Feast of Raymi continued unabated. Several times one or the other would wander to the parapet and stare at the scene below, where great fires burned, casting grotesque dancing shadows on the fronts of the Temple and the palaces surrounding the square, with the merry-making crowds surrounding poets and singers here and there, or dancing to the music of the minstrels who played queer stringed instruments. As big Bob turned away from the parapet on one of these trips, to rejoin his comrades, he believed he discerned the shadowy form of a skulker in a nearby embrasure. He could not be certain, however, because his eyes were dazzled from staring at the scene below. All about him was starlit darkness, the moon had not yet risen. His friends, surrounded by the ring of torchlights, were some distance off. What could a skulker be doing here? That was the question that leaped to mind. No sentries were posted, at least none had been seen so far. Nor was any other member of the party absent, as he could see in a quick glance to estimate their number. The perilous situation in which Prince Huaca was placed recurred to his mind. Perhaps, after all, the prince was over-optimistic when he said that all within the fortress were loyal to him. Perhaps, in the loosening of the restraints of discipline, bound to come with the advent of the festival season, the soldiers below had permitted, altogether unawares, of course, some assassin intent on taking Prince Huaca's life, to enter the fortress, to slip by them unseen. Bob stood, pressed against the parapet, his eyes on the spot, some yards distant, where he believed he had seen the skulking form. He was thinking. Not a sign of movement. Could he have been mistaken? Should he investigate? If someone lurked there, with evil intentions against Prince Huaca's life, he would be armed. Bob was without weapons. On the other hand, he realized he would not have to face firearms, but only a knife thrust or sword. And he was confident in his ability to take care of himself in a rough or tumble combat, a confidence bred of victories in the past, not only in school and college, but against ruffians in the surprising adventures into which they seemed fated perpetually to fall. "I'll have a look," he muttered to himself. "No harm in making sure." Stealthily, he removed his shoes, set them against the parapet where they could easily be found later, and began creeping noiselessly along the low wall toward the embrasure. With beating heart, and muscles taut and ready for a spring, he reached the spot. Should he peer around the edge or get on top of the parapet and stare down? Either way held danger, supposing the embrasure occupied. Then he had an idea. As he had stolen along the parapet he had come across a broken lance butt, some two feet in length, discarded by a sentry. This he had carried with him as a club. Now he took off his cap, put it on the end of the stick, and cautiously thrust it ahead of him around the edge of the embrasure. Nothing happened. Bob was disappointed. Could it be he was mistaken? Had his eyes played him tricks? No, he felt certain he had seen a dark form skulking there. Perhaps he had the wrong embrasure. No, he felt certain this was the one. Casting caution aside, he thrust his head forward and took a quick look at the interior. It was empty. As he stood, staring, uncomprehending, something soft and thick descended over him, a club came down on his head, a body fell upon him from above, and strong hands gripped his throat to prevent outcry. Like a flash of lightning, the truth was borne in upon him. He had not been mistaken. He had seen a form skulking there. And this man, seeing him come spying, had slipped to the top of the parapet and had leaped upon him. Bob's first thought was to cry out; but a fold of the enveloping bag was in his mouth, and he felt certain the muffled sound he made could not be heard. He realized, as in a flash, that whoever had attacked him, here in the center of Prince Huaca's stronghold, would be intent on silencing his lips and would have no mercy on him. These thoughts sped through Bob's mind with lightning speed. The big fellow, on the other hand, reacted physically to the attack. He began fighting at once, and in a way that must have been totally unexpected by his antagonist. Instead of plucking at the other's hands, which were clutched about his throat, he crumpled up as if overcome and sank to the stones. The other retained his grip on Bob's throat, a cruel pressure that set the blood to pounding in the boy's temples. Nevertheless, he was thrown off his balance, his body followed Bob's, bent above him. The moment he touched the stones, Bob sank to the ground, drew up his legs with a convulsive effort, and then shot his feet upward with a tremendous thrust. He felt his bare feet strike a lightly-clad body. There was a grunt. Then the hands about Bob's throat were torn loose from their grip, and the attacker went hurtling backward. There was a thud, a dull groan, as the other struck against the parapet. Bob was tearing frantically at the covering over his head, which was a thick woolen sack. Meantime, he was emitting roar after roar of purest rage. "Bob, Bob. What is it? Oh." CHAPTER XVIII--ARMED AGAIN It was Frank's voice, and the exclamation was elicited by Frank catching sight of the figure against the parapet, now struggling to its feet, knife clutched in hand. Frank had been the first to reach his comrade's side. He did not pause but, unarmed though he was, sprang forward. Bob pulled the sack from his head, just in time to see Frank's rush bear the other to his knees. Then the others were on the scene, soldiers with torches, Prince Huaca, Jack and the rest. It was all over in a trice. The man was disarmed and in the hands of two soldiers, each holding him firmly by an arm. He was a stout rascal, with an evil face. Prince Huaca looked at him keenly. "One of the Palace Guard," said he. "I recognize his face and bearing, even though he is not in uniform." To his men, he added: "Take him below." As the prisoner was being led away, the prince turned to Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto. "You see the crisis has come," said he simply. "This is the first time they have tried assassination." Then he went to Bob's side, a winning smile on his face. "I have you to thank for saving my life," he said. "I hope you are not hurt." "Not at all, thanks," said Bob, uncomfortably. "As to saving your life, sir--well, I guess he wouldn't have gotten much chance at you, with all your soldiers around." "How tell?" said the prince. "I have soldiers below, too. Yet this assassin gained the battlements." Then, temporarily dismissing the matter with a shrug of the shoulders, he said: "But, come, let us complete our preparations of the--what do you call it? Ah, yes. The radio." Turning, he led the way to where the station was nearing completion. While the boys resumed their operations, Prince Huaca again looked on between Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton, and conversed with them. He seemed to have thawed to them greatly, and both men gained the impression that he was a lonely man and welcomed their friendship. To himself, Mr. Hampton thought that probably the prince was gifted with so much greater intelligence and vision than those surrounding him, that, indeed, he must lead a lonely life. And this diagnosis, in after days, he was to learn was correct. For years, Prince Huaca, of all of Incarial rank, had stood alone in opposition to the War Party, pointing out the folly of invasion of the outside world in the belief that it had stood still since the days of the Incas. Of friends of lesser rank, however, he had many like the lord of the outer valley, at whose home they had stopped the first day. As they stood there, Mr. Hampton was silent, turning these matters over in his mind, and considering their own and Prince Huaca's predicament. He was stirred by a real liking for the man, and by a great pity for him, too. Alone in this isolation, pitted against shrewd-witted men lusting for his downfall, what chance had he? "Prince Huaca, I want to be of help; we all want to be of help," said he suddenly. "Indeed, our very lives depend upon aiding you to overcome your enemies and defeat their plans. May I ask, therefore, what your own plans are? It is possible we may, by putting our heads together, find some additional way of helping you beside merely calling for aid that, after all, will take weeks to reach us." "I shall close the fortress, admit only a daily ration of food to the city from the farms, and notify the Inca and Council that negotiations with the outside world have been launched." "Ere that help can arrive, however," objected Mr. Hampton, "many days of waiting must elapse. Meanwhile, may not the fortress be attacked and treachery succeed, where tonight's attempt fortunately came to naught?" Before Prince Huaca could give answer, Jack approached. "Dad, we'll soon be in a position to broadcast and try to raise the monastery. It's a good thing we have got the quarter-kilowatt generator, for the monastery is all of one hundred and fifty miles distant as the crow flies, and, although we have a ten-inch spark coil, we couldn't be heard beyond fifty miles with it and the batteries for our source of energy, unless under freakish conditions. But, what I was going to ask is, What time is it?" Mr. Hampton looked at his watch. "Why, it's eleven o'clock." "What? As late as that?" Jack was amazed and keenly disappointed. "Why, I had no idea we had been working so long. I'm afraid, then, we won't be able to pick up the monastery tonight. _La Prensa's_ nightly concert will have been finished, and they'll all be in bed. What tough luck!" "Try, anyway, Jack," urged Mr. Hampton, in an anxious tone. "Time is invaluable to us. Perhaps," he added, hopefully, "Brother Gregorio will be pottering around and will catch your signal." Jack shook his head doubtfully. "The good monks used to be in bed at nine o'clock before we put in the radio set for them. And they've still got sleepy habits. But we'll see." He walked to where Bob and Frank were putting the finishing installation touches to the generator. Some six or eight inches in diameter, it was firmly planted on its legs, handles projecting on either side. "All ready, Jack," said Frank. "You take the instrument and Bob and I will get up steam." Interested spectators, the other principals, grouped themselves close, with the torch bearers forming a ring about them. Bob and Frank began pumping away at the handles. "Reminds me of making ice cream in the old freezer," said Bob. Brother Gregorio had been placed in charge of the radio at the monastery, and it was for him Jack called repeatedly, after tuning to the monastery's meter wave length, but no answer came back. "No use, I'm afraid," he said at last, disappointedly. "May as well ease up, fellows. They're all asleep, as I expected." "And that's the nearest radio station, too," said Frank. "There isn't another within our radius." "Well, we'll have to wait until tomorrow, that's all," added Bob. The matter was explained to Prince Huaca, who was disappointed greatly, and wanted the boys to make another attempt to raise the monastery. Jack complied, but again without success. "Ah, well," said the prince, resignedly. "It is in the hands of God." Don Ernesto glanced at him in quick surprise, and the prince rightly interpreted the look. "Nay," said he, "I am not as my people in religion, for I have read much in the Holy Book left by the holy men who came hither centuries ago with de Arguello. But of that we shall speak, perhaps, some other time. Let us now decide what shall be done with this radio tonight, and then return to my apartments." It was hardly likely that anything untoward would happen to the outfit, yet sentries were placed on guard from among the awed torch bearers. Then the party returned below. Instead of dismissing them to their quarters, along with Pedro and Carlos, Prince Huaca invited Mr. Hampton, Don Ernesto and the boys to enter his apartments again. When they were back in the inner room, he ordered the prisoner brought before him. Escorted by two guards, whom Prince Huaca dismissed to the anteroom during the examination, the prisoner was brought in. Of the examination itself, which was brief, and was conducted in the unknown Inca tongue, the others could make nothing. It appeared to all, however, that the man was visibly frightened, although he cloaked his fear under a mask of stoicism. Several times they heard the name of "Cinto" uttered by the prince. At length, the guards were resummoned and the prisoner led away. For a time after his departure, Prince Huaca sat silent, elbows planted on the table, his head in his hands, lost in thought. That it was none too pleasant could be seen from his expression. "It was as I thought," he confided at length. "The High Priest, Cinto, and his rascally nephew despatched this man to assassinate me. Should he have accomplished his deed, he was to have been given an officer's command in the Palace Guard. Ah, my poor uncle, what rascals surround him and prey upon his superstitions and his love of a fading life! "The fellow says he gained entrance by calling to see an acquaintance among my troops; and then, in the relaxation of the holiday which obtained in the guard room, he slipped into the interior of the fortress and made his way to the battlements, after seeing us go to them. This is lax discipline that permits of such things, and shall be inquired into presently. "And now it is late and you will want to retire. But before you go, I have something to give you. You see, I trust you utterly. Do you, therefore, Senor Hampton, open the cabinet behind you, and there you will find the weapons taken from you on your capture. These I trust you with, and enjoin you not to make use of except in case of direct necessity. Yet, after what has happened tonight, my faith in my defences is shaken. If one man may creep in thus easily, may not others have done so? I questioned the rascal as to that, but he denied it. Yet I am not convinced. I, myself, shall take precautions to guard myself tonight, and you with these weapons will also be safe. "They are, doubtless, far better weapons than those which we make after the pattern of the arms brought hither by the Spaniards in the early days?" It was more question than statement, and Mr. Hampton nodded. "They are, indeed, Prince Huaca," said he. "And these small ones, called pistols, are very deadly and can shoot a great distance. Will you permit me," he asked suddenly, "to tender you one of them? It can be carried concealed upon your person, and is better protection than anything; far better than a dozen trusty men even, provided they be not provided with modern arms." He advanced to the prince, carrying an automatic. "It is simple to operate," said he, "and will discharge a half dozen shots in succession without pause to reload." Briefly he explained the use of the weapon, and Prince Huaca accepted with thanks what he might have taken without a by-your-leave. He tucked it away, within his tunic and under his broad golden girdle. They then took their leave and were led by the jailer once more to their room, where they found Pedro and Carlos contentedly snoring away. "In the morning we shall radio," said the prince, on their departure. The others agreed. But---- CHAPTER XIX--TREACHERY "What's that?" Frank sat up in bed, listened a moment, then shook the form of Bob beside him. He shook vigorously. Bob grunted. "Tumble out," said Frank, himself hitting the floor. And he raised his voice to a shout: "Everybody up." Springing to the nearest couch, where reposed Jack and his father, beginning to stir and blink at his shout, Frank shook them too. All the time he continued shouting: "Everybody up. Everybody up." All were awake by now, sitting up in bed or springing to the floor. And the sounds that had caused Frank to awaken could be heard plainly. Above the revelry in the square below, which had continued unabated hour after hour, could be heard a different hubbub, men shouting, and the sound of firearms being discharged. Ferdinand sprang to a loophole and stared out on a tossing, surging mass of humanity, lighted fitfully by the glare of the bonfires and the tossing flame of torches. All around the edges of the square, men, women and children were fleeing as if in panic. Before the great stairs of the Temple, where glowed the hugest bonfire of all, could be seen a force of men in gleaming armor--something which caused Ferdinand to rub his eyes and wonder if he were dreaming. They were close knit and firing to the rear as they advanced steadily. "Look, look," cried Ferdinand. All sprang to the loopholes. The armor-clad force set foot on the stairway and started upward, those in the rear continuing their rear-guard fight. "What is it? Who's fighting?" They craned to see the opposing force. Ah, there it was. A rabble of men from the direction of the fortress, some with firearms which they were discharging at the group mounting the Temple stairs, others armed only with spears. Some wore helmet or breastplate, but none were fully clothed in armor. They were shouting with rage, and it seemed to the onlookers there were cries of "Huaca, Huaca." What could it mean? They stared, fascinated, absorbed, beginning to grow alarmed. The force on the Temple stairs held together firmly. Several dropped as if wounded, but were lifted by comrades and supported into the Temple. The force reached the top of the stairway. Then, from the great pillars of the portico, gloomy and unlighted, above the glare of the bonfire, stepped numbers of men, similarly clad in armor, who took up position in serried rank along the top of the steps, and, at the command of a plumed leader in the middle, delivered with uplifted sword, started down the steps. Suddenly a new clash of steel, seemingly at the base of the fortress rock, immediately below the windows of the prisoners, broke out. It was succeeded by loud shouts. They craned, but could not see. "Sounds like an attack on the fort," cried Frank, withdrawing from his loophole to shout to Jack and his father at the next one. "But that isn't possible," Jack replied. "The only approach to the fort is up a winding stairway from the city. Below us is rock." "But, listen. Something's going on. Wish I could see." "Look, Frank, look." Bob pulled his companion back to their loophole. Frank followed the injunction. Back across the square, running pell mell, came the men who had pursued the armor-clad warriors into the Temple. "Those are soldiers from the fortress, boys," said Mr. Hampton, over Frank's shoulder. Frank and Bob turned about to see Jack and his father, who had approached from their loophole. "Do you think so?" "Yes," answered Mr. Hampton, speaking rapidly. "I believe that in some manner Prince Huaca has been captured and that force we saw disappear into the Temple had him in its midst. His soldiers followed, unorganized and enraged. Now a force in their rear has attacked the fortress, possibly at a sally-post below us of which we know nothing. Arm yourselves at once, boys, and barricade the door with the couches. If the fortress falls, we will defend ourselves." "Thank goodness Prince Huaca returned us our weapons and ammunition last night," said Bob, leaping to possess himself of rifle and revolver. "Last night?" said Frank. "Why, this is the same night." "Right you are, Frank. But things move so fast here, I lose track of time." While the others armed, and then barricaded the door, Mr. Hampton kept watch at the loophole. Prince Huaca's followers could no longer be seen. The armor-clad Palace Guard was sweeping across the great square, empty now of merrymakers, in a wave. But, though he could not see the soldiers of the prince, Mr. Hampton could tell what had become of them. For up from the foot of the Acropolis below his loophole came an increased sound of shouting and clashing steel. He looked again. The Palace Guard had increased pace. Evidently, all was not going well with the attacking party at the Acropolis, as the retreating soldiers from the fortress fell upon them in the rear. Would the soldiers of the fortress win back to shelter with their comrades? Or would the reinforcements of the Palace Guard arrive in time to break down resistance? Mr. Hampton trembled. Upon the outcome depended the fate of the boys in the room behind. Jack! His eyes misted. Well, they would sell their lives dearly. Straining to listen to the sounds from below, watching the oncoming wave of the Palace Guard, Mr. Hampton was unaware of what was transpiring in the room behind him. A hand fell on his arm. He whirled about. It was Jack. "Somebody's at the door." Mr. Hampton gripped his rifle, and sprang toward the barricade of couches behind which crouched the rest of their little force. The great door of the room opened outward. They could see the light of several torches shining upon helmet and lance point. At sight of the barricade, and of the rifles poking over it, there was a hasty scramble on the part of those in the corridor to get out of the way. Then a white flag was thrust up on a spear point, and Mr. Hampton saw it was borne by their jailer--the man whom Prince Huaca trusted with the knowledge of the secret passage into his inner apartment, the man whose kindly face, as he had dealt with them, had made them feel they had a friend in him, even though there was no common tongue between them. He made signs to indicate he came in peace, then beckoned another forward. This other, in the dress of a noble, seemed vaguely familiar to Mr. Hampton. Jack supplied the answer. "Why, Dad, it's the young noble at whose house we stopped when we were brought through the outer valley as prisoners. He's a friend of Prince Huaca." "What the deuce, though," said Mr. Hampton. "I can't speak to him in his language." It was unnecessary. In Spanish far poorer than Prince Huaca's, yet still understandable, the young noble explained he came in peace. Then he asked that he be admitted. Part of the barricade was removed, and he was brought into the room. He and Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto withdrew to one side and carried on a low-voiced conversation. Presently, he bowed and withdrew from the room, the guard in the corridor going with him. The jailer, however, at his command, remained behind, and the door was left open. The boys looked inquiringly at the older men. "Tear down the barricade, boys, so we have something to sit on. The fortress is still in the hands of Prince Huaca's men. The prince, as I surmised, has been captured. This young noble, Michac, had heard a rumor out at his country home of impending trouble, and was so alarmed for Prince Huaca's safety that he started for the fortress at once. He arrived too late. Prince Huaca had been captured by a body of men who gained entrance to his sleeping chamber through the secret passage. How it was all brought about has yet to be learned. They carried him out through a postern, where a strong body from the Palace Guard was in waiting. That was the force we first saw make its way to the Temple. "Michac has gone to see the safeguarding of the fortress, and has assumed command, for the soldiers believe there was treachery among their offices and have deposed all. Michac is known to them, he has always held aloof from the Court, and they trust him, and offered him the command. He plans to send a messenger at once to the Inca with word that if Prince Huaca is slain, the fortress troops will starve the city. "The position of the fortress, controlling the food supply of the city, gives him the opportunity thus to preserve Prince Huaca's life. On the other hand, if he attacks, Prince Huaca would be slain. Thus, matters probably will be deadlocked. Michac says that from a letter sent him by Prince Huaca, he learned of the latter's trust in us, and thus has asked us to place ourselves at his disposal, as allies and advisers. "He will return presently. Now you have the whole matter before you. It looks dark, yet not entirely hopeless." CHAPTER XX--FRANK PLANS A MIRACLE Michac, however, was delayed far longer than he anticipated, and the remaining hours of the night passed without his return. None passed through their corridor. No messengers appeared with word from Michac. They were left in darkness as to the course of events. Sleep for most of them would have been impossible. Only Pedro and Carlos, apprised briefly by Don Ernesto as to what had occurred, could yield to slumber. They, however, with the stoic philosophy and acceptance of a situation that the boys on previous occasions had admired, turned in and slept soundly, ready for the next call to action. "Boy, how I wish I could do the same," said big Bob, glancing enviously at the slumbering huachos. "No use to try, though. I might get to sleep, but it would be only to have Frank chuck me out of bed the next minute. Seems to me I never yet got to sleep that he didn't go out and start a couple of bunches of fellows to fighting each other, just to spoil my slumber." Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton fell into quiet, low-voiced conversation, and the boys posted themselves at the loopholes to watch for developments. The bonfires still blazed in the great square, fed ever and again by members of the Palace Guard. These latter, clad in complete armor, were posted at every street leading into the square. The fitful glare of the bonfires gleamed now and again upon breastplate or helmet. Of all that great multitude which had been making merry, none remained. Several had been wounded in the crossfire of the two opposing forces, but their bodies had been removed. Where before all was mirth and merry-making, now reigned an ominous, oppressive silence. Now and again the intermittent gleam of torches borne through the streets could be seen in the thoroughfares radiating from the great square. The boys wondered what it portended. "Perhaps the High Priest is ferreting out Prince Huaca's friends and arresting them," suggested Frank, on one occasion. Hours passed, while the boys kept moving about, talking, watching through the loopholes. At length, Bob, with a jaw-dislocating yawn, flung himself down on a couch, and went soundly to sleep. A moment later Ferdinand succumbed to the force of suggestion and to his overwhelming fatigue, and also lay down. Silence, while the jailer, crouching by the door in the position he had held for hours, seemed a graven image; silence, while Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton sat forward, voiceless, lost in thought, their elbows on their knees, on a couch near the door; silence, while Frank and Jack leaned in a loophole, their heads close together, staring down at the Temple front and the portion of the square within their view. "Jack," said Frank at last, in a low voice, "I've been thinking." "Yes?" "We can get out to safety all right, probably, with Michac in command." "I suppose he'd let us go." "But we can't desert Prince Huaca." "That's right." "He's a white man." "He certainly is." "He trusted us, Jack, and we ought to help him." "We ought to, indeed." "I have an idea." "What is it, Frank?" "Don't laugh, Jack, will you?" "No, I won't laugh, Frank. This is pretty serious business. What is there to laugh at?" "I mean I don't want you to laugh at my idea." "All right, Frank, I promise. What is it?" A lengthy pause. Frank's shoulders began to shake. He looked at him curiously. "Why--why----" "Yes, Jack, I'm laughing myself. I can't help it. Oh, but this is too good. But"--Frank by an effort regained control of himself and resumed his normal expression--"just the same, I'm right." "Well, for goodness sake, what is it? What have you got in mind? I'd like to laugh, too." "Jack, you promised." "All right. Out with it." Jack was interested. His curiosity was piqued. What could Frank have in mind? "Well, Jack, you remember Pedro has false teeth? A full set, with a rubber plate that looks just like a palate?" "Yes. Go on." "And Carlos has a glass eye?" "Yes, yes." "And, Jack, you remember Don Ernesto's toupee?" "Well, what of it?" "It's a wonderful work of art, Jack. When he wears it, you would swear it was his own luxuriant hair. And when he takes it off----" "He's certainly bald, and his head shines like a billiard ball. Yes, I know. What of it? What's all this got to do with rescuing Prince Huaca--false teeth, glass eyes and toupee?" Frank stared at him. "Jack, don't you see?" Jack was sleepy, fatigued, and peevish. "No, I don't. What's the matter with you, anyway?" "Well, Jack, when you think of modern inventions, you think of the airplane and radio and steamers and locomotives and telephones, don't you?" "I suppose so." "But, Jack, the savages know nothing about glass eyes and false teeth and toupees. And I'm sure the Incas don't know anything about them, either." Jack looked at Frank, puzzled. "That's right, Frank. But how can it benefit us?" "Well, look here. Suppose we appeared before the Inca and his Council as a delegation from the fortress and demanded Prince Huaca's release on pain of working our magic on the Inca and all his forces. Then we'd give them a demonstration. Your father has a little pointed beard. He could make up to look like a magician. He'd make a few passes, utter some words in English--anything would confound them, as English is unknown to them--and then Pedro would pull out his teeth, Carlos would pluck out his eye, and Don Ernesto would scalp himself. Wouldn't that just give them fits? Wouldn't it just----" But Jack's bewildered expression had given way to one of mirth, uncontrollable mirth, and he laughed until he was weak, leaning back against the wall, his hands pressed to his aching sides. Frank, too, yielded to merriment, expostulating between spasms of laughter: "You promised not to laugh, Jack. You promised." The sound of their laughter reached Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton, and they looked inquiringly toward its source; then, as the boys continued to go off into fresh gales of mirth, arose from the couch and approached them. "What's the joke, boys? Let us in on it," said Mr. Hampton, smiling. "Oh, I can't, Dad. I can't speak. Ask Frank." Jack was so weak he could hardly support himself. The ludicrous idea propounded by his friend, coming on top of his nervous strain, had induced a species of hysteria. The two older men grinned in sympathy with the boys, although in the dark as to the cause of their laughter. "Some boyish joke, I suppose," said Mr. Hampton, and was about to turn away, but Jack recovered himself sufficiently to lay a detaining hand on his arm. "Wait a minute, Dad. Give me a chance to get my breath. You must hear this." The two older men paused, expectant. Presently Jack recovered sufficiently to attempt an explanation. "Frank there," he said, pointing to his still quaking comrade. And then he explained what Frank had proposed. "I hope we won't give you offense, Don Ernesto," he said, with quick compunction. The latter, however, was a jolly sort. And he was struck with the originality of the idea. With a comical gesture he put his hand to his head, removed his toupee and held it aloft while Mr. Hampton, seeing what he was about, pulled a long face and made several mysterious passes before him. They had moved close to the table and stood revealed in the light of the rekindled lamp. A wild shriek came from the doorway. They swung about startled, Don Ernesto still holding his toupee aloft. The shriek brought Bob and Ferdinand to the floor. Even Carlos and Pedro sprang upright on their couch. "Great guns, I forgot the jailer was sitting over there," said Mr. Hampton. "Look at him." "Hurray," cried Frank. "It worked." "What do you mean? What worked?" It was Bob, rubbing his eyes. Frank, however, paid him no attention. "Look, look," he said, seizing Mr. Hampton's arm. "He saw Don Ernesto scalp himself and he's scared stiff." "I believe you're right, Frank," said Mr. Hampton, delightedly. They hurried to the recumbent form. The jailer lay on his face, his hands up to his eyes, as if shutting out an horrific sight. He was moaning like a man in the extremity of terror. "Let's try the teeth and the false eye on him, too," said Frank, carried away with enthusiasm at the unexpected proof of the plausibility of his suggestion. "No, no," protested Mr. Hampton. "The man is beside himself with terror now." Bending down, he began to pat the fellow on the back, and endeavor to induce him to raise his head. Don Ernesto, meanwhile, restored his toupee. Presently, although Mr. Hampton knew no words in the other's tongue, he had brought him back to some semblance of sanity. The jailer still trembling violently, was induced to get to his feet, but his hands were still to his eyes, as if he feared to gaze upon a terrible sight. The room grew lighter. A glance toward the loopholes revealed the sky was becoming bright in the east. "Look," said Jack, "it is dawn." At that moment, while Mr. Hampton still patted the trembling form of the jailer, steps were heard in the corridor, and the flickering light of torches was reflected on the walls. Frank looked out. "Here comes Michac with a bodyguard," he said. "Say----" He faced the room, glancing at the others. "What?" asked Jack. "Let's try the whole works on Michac and his escort." CHAPTER XXI--TO GO OR NOT TO GO Jack laughed with the others, but, sobering, said: "I'd like to, Frank. But don't you think it would be rather mean to frighten our friends?" Mr. Hampton interrupted quickly. "The thought does you credit, Jack. But there is something else to consider. I really believe Frank's plan for aweing the Inca and his Council a good one. This is a matter of life and death. If the plan is to succeed it must be capable of thoroughly frightening these people and convincing them of our magical powers. And, as Michac and his escort are the same sort of people on whom our tricks would have to be tried in earnest, it is well to give a dress rehearsal, so to speak, and see what our luck will be." "Here they come," said Frank, looking out the door. "Very well," said Mr. Hampton, rapidly. "Pedro, Carlos, when I make mysterious signs and order you to remove your eye and teeth, do you do so as if unwillingly, but under compulsion. If you can grimace and pretend it pains you, so much the better. Ready. Here they are." As Michac appeared in the doorway, Mr. Hampton faced Don Ernesto, Pedro and Carlos, who stood shoulder to shoulder. He acted as if the young noble and the half dozen soldiers behind him had not been seen. Waving his hands like a mesmerist, in the faces of the trio, he began reciting a rigmarole of whatever words came into his head. The three controlled their features with commendable gravity, and, indeed, acted as if in fear of Mr. Hampton. Michac paused in astonishment. The soldiers betrayed mingled alarm and curiosity. As for the jailer, he moaned and cowered against the wall. The boys had all they could do to keep from laughing. Then Mr. Hampton made an especially fierce gesture toward Pedro. "Hocus pocus, abracadabra, pluck out thine eye," he commanded, in Spanish. Pedro grimaced as if in pain, brushed his hand across his right eye and brought it away with the glass eyeball in his fingers. He held it out to Mr. Hampton. The jailer, whose curiosity got the better of prudence, had withdrawn his hands from his eyes. Now he emitted another piercing shriek and once more cowered down, too stricken to move. The soldiers pushed back against each other, making little sounds of fear. Michac held his ground, but he became pale. "Pull out thy teeth and palate," commanded Mr. Hampton, ferociously, making a pass with his hands before Carlos. Out came the false teeth, with the palate of red gum, looking like the roof of his mouth. He opened his mouth wide, exposing the toothless gums. It was too much for the jailer. He had had enough. He turned and dashed wildly through the group of soldiers, and down the corridor. "After him, after him, he'll turn the fortress topsy turvy," cried the quick-witted Jack. Frank, who was nearest the door, was off like a shot. Nobody attempted to halt him. And he was fortunate enough to come upon the jailer within a few yards, for the latter in his blind haste had stumbled and fallen. The soldiers were on the verge of panic. Michac, too, was shaken, but held his ground, either out of a fascinated curiosity to see what would occur next, or else in the feeling that he must set an example to his men. "Now, take this knife and scalp thyself," Mr. Hampton commanded Don Ernesto, extending his pocket knife. The latter screwed up his face as if in agony, ran the knife blade seemingly around his head, then with a tug lifted off his toupee, revealing his hairless dome. It was too much. The soldiers fell over each other trying to get away. There were shrieks and cries, as they darted off with tossing torches. "Quick," cried Mr. Hampton, seizing Michac's arm urgently. "Command them to return. 'Tis but a trick." But Michac, although he had resolutely held his ground and refused to flee, was helpless. He was so stupefied that he could not move. He could not even speak. He opened his mouth, but no sound came forth. "Well, I guess they won't do any harm," said Mr. Hampton. "Let them go. Jack, get this chap a drink of water from the table." Michac accepted the cup gratefully, and put it to his lips, but his hand shook so badly that he spilled most of the contents. "There, you will feel better," said Mr. Hampton. "Now, Senor permit me to explain." Leading Michac to a couch, he explained as simply as he could how modern surgical science made false teeth and eyes possible, while the toupee was the outgrowth of a demand of fashion. Then he bade the others restore their original appearance, and they complied. In conclusion, Mr. Hampton explained Frank's idea that they proceed to the Incarial Council, demand Prince Huaca's release on pain of incurring the white man's vengeance, and then proceed to demonstrate their "magic." "Do you consider it would succeed?" he asked. Michac, a young man of intelligence and sense, grasped Mr. Hampton's explanation quickly, and his fear disappeared. He smiled broadly and delightedly. "Succeed, Senor? You will make Cinto and his priests die of envy. No such miracles can they perform." "Yes, but think you we can obtain Prince Huaca's release?" "Nay, I cannot say. They will be frightened, yes. Was not I? And I am a man not easily scared. Yet Prince Huaca is bitterly hated by Cinto and the Council. Not willingly will they give him up. I will be frank with you. I would like the attempt made. Yet if you fail, it is death. Have you no other magic greater than these?" They looked at each other nonplussed. Suddenly Jack's face brightened. "The radio outfit, Dad. Surely we can do something with that." Mr. Hampton nodded quickly, "Good, Jack, good. There must be a way to use it effectively." Michac, who had not understood the rapid interchange of remarks, looked inquiringly at Mr. Hampton. "Will you come with us to the battlement, Senor?" Mr. Hampton said, slowly, in Spanish. "Prince Huaca knows of further and greater magic, and left sentries on guard there last night over it." "I heard a strange tale from those men," said Michac. "For, yes, I found them there upon my inspection of the fortress during the night. Willingly will I accompany you." Jack interposed. "But first, Dad, perhaps Michac ought to round up his escort and prevent them from demoralizing the fortress troops with wild tales of what occurred here." "Right," said Mr. Hampton, and turning to the young nobleman, he communicated Jack's suggestion. The other nodded. "Await me." When he had left, the boys began to laugh over their recent experience, but Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto were thoughtful. They looked at each other understanding and spoke together, low-voiced. Then Mr. Hampton turned to the lads. "We're afraid it can't be done," he said. "It was good fun, and all that. But the chances of failure are too great to warrant us in imperiling our lives. It is true, we might go to the Inca as a delegation under a flag of truce, but we have no guarantee its sanctity would be regarded." "Oh, Dad, everybody regards the sanctity of a flag of truce." Jack's tone was disappointed. But Mr. Hampton shook his head. "I'm afraid the risk is too great." "Look here, Dad, I've got an idea. You know my ring radio set? I've got it with me. We can take that along with us to the audience. Then we'll tell the Inca that the white man's god wants to speak to him, clap the ring on his finger, adjust the headphone for him, and, from our station on top of the fortress, order him to release Prince Huaca and punish the conspirators against him. Now don't say it can't be done, Dad, for it can, and you know it can. We've got plenty of wire, and can run up all the aerial necessary in a trice, stand the Inca on one of those gold flagstones in his palace and give him what he asks for." Mr. Hampton laughed. "Not so bad, Jack, but----" "Besides, Mr. Hampton," interposed Frank, "remember we have our pistols--and automatics are something these people aren't accustomed to. That is another marvel." "But we couldn't take those along under a flag of truce." "Why not?" asked Don Ernesto. "They would know nothing about them. The weapons could be tucked away out of sight. And, although to carry them would seem a breach of faith, yet if we would save Prince Huaca, the end justifies the means, it seems to me." At that moment Michac returned. "Ask him about a flag of truce, Dad, whether the Incarial forces would respect it?" suggested Jack. Mr. Hampton did as proposed. Michac straightened proudly. "It would be respected," he said. "Then, Dad, your major objection of the danger to us is overborne." "Yes, I see. But about the pistols, I don't know." Mr. Hampton shook his head. Then he had an inspiration. Taking out his pistol, he held it up for Michac to view. "Do you know what this is?" he asked. Michac regarded it curiously. He confessed ignorance. Then, on second thought, he added: "It is strange. Yet it looks like a tiny gun such as children might make were they expert gunsmiths. Is it a toy?" "The deadliest known to man," said Mr. Hampton. And he explained. "Would we be deprived of these if we went to the Inca's palace?" "Nay, I doubt it." "Then we can take them," said Don Ernesto, who had been listening closely. "That is good." "But, under a flag of truce----" "My friend," said Don Ernesto, "you are quixotic. We risk our lives in a quixotic venture, as it is, if we go to attempt to obtain Prince Huaca's release. At least let us take advantage of this fortunate circumstance that pistols are unknown here and carry our weapons as protection against treachery. For, though Senor Michac says a flag of truce will be respected, you must remember we are dealing with the High Priest Cinto and his nephew, not with the Inca, and they already have tried to assassinate Prince Huaca and then carried him off captive. Though why," he added, "he was not assassinated this second time, but merely made prisoner, I cannot see." "Perhaps they thought better of it," said Mr. Hampton. "What think you, Senor?" he added, addressing Michac. "Nay, I do not know. The plans of this Cinto are beyond my understanding. Yet it may be he repented of having directed assassination and when his spies within the fortress reported failure of the plan, he was glad. For Prince Huaca is beloved of the people, and there might have been an uprising; whereas, if he be but prisoner, men will not so willingly put their lives in danger. An it may be, too," he added, as an afterthought, "that the man captured by you on the battlement was not sent to slay but to aid in the capture of Prince Huaca. It may be that the story he told of being sent to slay was false, and was told the prince in order to cloak the real design. For the man, as it has been proven, had little to fear. He was released from his fetters by traitors within the fortress, and escaped during the night, probably with those who carried off the prince." Mr. Hampton shook his head. "Palace politics are beyond me," he said. "Evidently this Cinto is a thorough-going scoundrel. But, to return to the matter of whether we go before the Inca with our pistols concealed----" He was interrupted by the appearance of a soldier at the door, evidently in great haste. The latter saluted Michac, and the latter gave him permission to speak. Then Michac turned to the others gravely, and interrupted. "The Inca has sent a messenger, calling upon me to surrender you to him at once, as you are Incarial prisoners. What shall I do?" CHAPTER XXII--INTO THE INCA'S COURT "Do?" cried Jack. "I'm for complying." "Jack, you are talking wildly," rebuked his father, sternly. "It is death." "But, Dad, don't you see? Now we need have no scruples about going armed." "I know, Jack," said his father, gravely. "But don't you realize that if we go now, we go as prisoners, and not under the protection of a flag of truce?" "I hadn't thought of that," said Jack, and fell silent. They looked at each other, but none spoke for the moment. "Senor Hampton," said Michac, resolutely, "I shall not comply with the Inca's command, though it be for the first time in my life I have failed to do so, and have put myself in open defiance of our supreme authority. Let him declare my life forfeit and place a price upon my head in the hope of finding traitors among the fortress garrison to slay me. I care not. I am concerned solely for the life of my friend, Prince Huaca. I do not ask that you go voluntarily and endanger yourselves in the hope of saving him, but I do appeal to you to help me save him in some manner. You are wiser men than I, with many wonders and marvels at your command, and----" "Think you, Senor Michac," interrupted Don Ernesto, "that if we reply to the Inca that we come as delegates from a great lord beyond the mountains with many marvels at his command, and that we wish to have an audience with him, but not as prisoners, he will give us safe conduct?" Michac's worried expression lightened. "And then----" "Having obtained an audience," said Don Ernesto, "we shall seek to so impress him with our power that he will be overawed and will either surrender Prince Huaca or promise that his life be spared." "It may be," said Michac. "Let us make the attempt, Senor Hampton," appealed Don Ernesto. "We are eight in number, capable all of us, armed with modern automatics. I believe we can protect ourselves, and, perhaps, even effect a gallant deed in the rescue of Prince Huaca." "Remember, Dad," said Jack, "that Pizarro, with a handful of warriors, overthrew a far mightier host than we will face. And in a less worthy cause, besides." Mr. Hampton looked at the three lads, at Jack and Bob and Frank. He thought of the responsibility devolving upon him of looking after their safety. Nevertheless, there was much truth in what the others urged. In the automatics, they had weapons the like of which were unknown to the Inca's people. In the marvels at their command, they had something with which to dazzle the others and convince them of the white man's greater power. Besides, there was Prince Huaca--a man who had endeared himself. Mr. Hampton rubbed his eyes. Was he living in the twentieth century? He, himself, matter of fact though he was, felt the influence of another age upon him. He could see the boys had entirely yielded to that influence and that Don Ernesto was slipping fast. He felt reckless. After all, as Don Ernesto had said, it would be a gallant deed to rescue Prince Huaca. And in the mood that was upon him, he felt as if the doing of a gallant deed was all that counted. "Very well, let us send a message to the Inca as you propose, Don Ernesto." "Hurray, Dad." "That's the stuff, Mr. Hampton." "Senor, it is fine to be a boy again, is it not so?" Don Ernesto clasped his hand. Michac was elated. The message was given the Incarial messenger, and he was sent back to the palace. Then they sat down to await developments. But not for long, as the boys recalled at once that they had not yet succeeded in calling the monastery, and all adjourned to the battlements. Almost at once Jack succeeded in obtaining a reply. And when Brother Gregorio's voice sounded in the receivers, he gave a cry of joy. "Senor Jack, is it you? Tell me. How have you fared?" "It's Brother Gregorio, fellows. Hurray," cried Jack, turning to the circle about him. "We've found it, Brother Gregorio," he replied, interrupting the other's eager flood of questions. "We are in the Enchanted City. And it is not in ruins, but inhabited. By the descendants of the Incas. Oh, a marvellous story. But I have little time now for conversation. Do you call Father Felipe at once, as Don Ernesto has much to tell him." Father Felipe, fortunately, was close at hand, and he and Don Ernesto soon were engaged in conversation. Rapidly and concisely, Don Ernesto related the sequence of their adventures, and what they now proposed to do. In conclusion, he asked Father Felipe to take minute note of the directions for finding the Enchanted City, and to communicate at once with his brother-in-law, the President of Chile. From Don Ernesto's remarks, those listening could tell that Father Felipe was protesting vehemently at the carrying out of the proposed visit to the Inca, and urging them not to do so. But Don Ernesto did not weaken. So long did the conversation continue, that before its conclusion a messenger appeared on the roof to inform Michac that the Inca's messenger had returned and awaited him below. Michac disappeared. When he returned, Don Ernesto still was talking, and Michac addressed himself to Mr. Hampton. "The Inca will receive you as delegates from the Lord Beyond the Mountains," he said. "You are to appear at once for audience." "And does he give safe conduct?" "So states the message, yet Senor----" "What?" asked Mr. Hampton, noting his hesitation. "I fear treachery from Cinto. Remember you were told by Prince Huaca that he and you were to appear for audience today--when apparently you would be safe--yet were then to be seized and slain. I repeat me, Senor, of urging you to make this visit. It is not yet too late to withdraw." Don Ernesto meantime had concluded his conversation with Father Felipe. "Treachery or not, Senor Hampton," he said firmly, "I believe we should make the attempt to save Prince Huaca. Honor demands it." "Yes," said Mr. Hampton, firmly. "I too, have decided in favor of it. We shall keep our eyes open and be on our guard." "Dad," interrupted Jack, "remember what I said about the ring radio? Well, I've got another idea. Let us give the Inca a present. That will be only natural. Now the box containing the tube transformers is a handsome piece of work, and will look impressive. Let us take it and the batteries and present it to him, string up an aerial and tell him the Lord Beyond the Mountains is so great he can speak and make his voice heard, although he isn't present. Then we'll get the Inca to put on the headphone and give him an earful from the battlement." "But who will speak from the battlement, Jack?" "I've thought of that, too, Dad. Of course the Inca understands this archaic Spanish that the high nobles speak. One of us might stay behind and spring Spanish on him. But I've got a better plan. Wouldn't it impress him to tell him that our Lord Beyond the Mountains is so powerful that he speaks all tongues, even that of the Incas--the most isolated people in the world?" Mr. Hampton nodded. Frank interrupted eagerly. "You mean----" "Yes, sir, I mean Michac," said Jack. "He isn't going with us. He can stay here and act the part of the Lord Beyond the Mountains, and speak to the Inca. Besides, that will be all the better. For he knows all about conditions here and knows everybody by his first name. He can show such familiarity with the Inca's affairs as to dumbfound the old boy. As for the generator, a couple of these husky soldiers can turn the handles and give him the juice. Now I know what you're going to say, Dad. You're going to object that Michac won't know when the Inca puts on the receivers, aren't you?" Mr. Hampton nodded, smiling slightly, for Jack's enthusiasm amused and warned him, and he could see his son had a plan already worked out. "Suppose, too," he said, "that the Inca refuses to don the headphones? What then?" "If he doesn't," said Jack, "what's to prevent us from bluffing this High Priest, Cinto, into putting them on? We can ask simply whether he is afraid. That ought to floor him. He won't dare admit fear of another's magic. For that matter, we can bluff the Inca into listening by the same method. "Anyway," Jack continued, "either of your objections can be met. We can say that the Lord from Beyond the Mountains speaks from the sky, and ask the Inca to come to that great platform before the Temple. Then we can put up our set there, and from the battlements here, Michac can see just who is listening on the 'phones, and when to speak." "Jack, I believe you've got it," said his father, heartily. "Well, let's go." "Look here," said Bob, suddenly. "Michac can't see from where this set is located. He can't get sight of the square at all. But I've got an idea, too. Jack, you give him your field glasses, and explain them to him. Then he can station a trusty man in the embrasure there, with the glasses, and this man can make sure beyond possibility of a doubt, who is listening-in and when, and just call the information to Michac." The glasses were brought, a soldier instructed in their use, and two others put at the generator. Then Michac escorted the party to the fortress gate, and they set out across the square. Before resuming his station on the battlements, Michac assembled two strong parties under trusty petty officers, and stationed them at the main gate and at the sally port at the foot of the Acropolis, reached by a stairway hewn from the living rock. It was there the surprise attack had been delivered the night before. "Keep close watch," he commanded, "and if you see these strangers return in haste, pursued by the Palace Guard, dash forth to their rescue. They go to attempt the delivery of Prince Huaca." That last statement, he new, would steel their arms, for the common soldiers of the fortress adored Prince Huaca. Then he returned to the battlements to await developments. By that time he could see the party, led by the Inca's messenger, marching two abreast, in step, with Pedro and Carlos in the rear, bearing the radio outfit, reach the wide stone stairway sweeping up to the Incarial palace, which adjoined the Temple on the left. He was torn by conflicting emotions at the sight, hope that the marvels of the strangers would accomplish the impossible, fear for the possible effects of Cinto's treachery. Steadily they marched up the steps, received at the head of the flight by an armed guard in glittering armor, which closed about them. Fear overcame hope in Michac's breast. Against those splendid armor-clad warriors, how could his newfound friends hope for success. His heart failed him. Had he been wise in permitting them to go? Were they not going to certain death, in spite of fair promises? "Oh, Huaca, Huaca, my friend and leader," he said to himself, in momentary despair, "I shall never see you alive again. My poor country!" CHAPTER XXIII--THE OLD AND THE NEW What a sensation that was, crossing the great square of Cusco Hurrin, facing the tremendous Temple of the Sun and the Inca's Palace, in the bright sunlight, with not a soul in sight in all the great expanse. The boys again underwent that feeling to which they had been subject so often since arrival, namely, that they were dreaming. Could it be possible that here they were in the most secret and unknown city on earth, that the unparalleled experience which had come to Pizarro centuries before, of discovering the Inca civilization, was now coming to them? They marched in step, shoulders squared, heads erect, looking very military in their camping outfits and campaign hats. By each man's side swung his automatic in a holster, ready for instant use. "If they do not know the purpose of these weapons," said Mr. Hampton, as they set out, "it is not likely they will attempt to take them from us. But, should they do so, we must not permit it. In that case, let each man draw his automatic and await my instructions." "What would you do, Dad?" "Demonstrate my ability as a shot," said his father, grimly. "I would bring down something or other, to convince them it were best not to trifle with us. My hope, however, is that we shall not be asked to give up our weapons." Steadily the march continued, and now, as they drew nearer to the Inca's Palace and could see the individual figures of the armor-clad guard drawn up on the terrace at the head of the great stairway, Jack turned for a last look at the Acropolis. As he did so, he gave an exclamation, and halted, staring. The others turned at his words, and then also halted in their tracks and stared. For the first time since arrival they obtained a clear view of the mountain peak behind the Acropolis. Through a flank of this lofty height was cut the Tunnel Way by which they had gained the fortress. During their only appearance on the battlements by day, only a very short time previously, they had been too occupied in calling the monastery by radio to look up at the towering peak beyond. "Look at it smoke." It was Bob's voice, breaking the silence. At once the others gave tongue, too, and the air was filled with their exclamations. For out of the truncated top of the mountain was pouring a thick black smoke, not of any great density, in reality, as yet, but still pronounced. "Is that a signal fire, or something like that, by any chance, Dad?" asked Jack. Mr. Hampton shook his head. His face was grave. "That's a volcano," he said. "You know some of the most active volcanoes in the world are located in the Andes. And the whole Andine region is subject to earthquakes. The tremors are felt far out at sea, and when a great earthquake occurs, it is usually accompanied by a tidal wave that wreaks destruction along the Chilian and Peruvian coast. Valparaiso practically was wiped out by a tidal wave not so many years ago." "Does that look as if it would erupt soon, Mr. Hampton?" Frank anxiously inquired. Mr. Hampton shook his head, doubtfully. "I don't know. But I do not believe so," he said. "What do you think, Don Ernesto?" The Chilian shrugged. "Who can tell," he said. "It feels like earthquake weather, a little, hot and muggy. But, come, we delay. Let us proceed." Once more the party moved forward. Now they were at the bottom of the great flight of stone stairs leading up to the Inca's Palace. Now they were halfway up. Now they were at the top. And two lines of splendid warriors formed an aisle through which they must pass to enter the great doorway. "Great guns," muttered Bob in a low voice, "I didn't realize--I didn't suspect----" "Ssh," whispered Frank, who was his partner. Nevertheless, he, too, was awed by the sight. So were they all. For the members of the Palace Guard were in golden armor. Breastplate, helmet, greaves, were all gold or gold-plated. Stunned, almost, though they were, however, none of the party seemed to take any notice of the warriors, but kept their eyes to the front as they halted at a gesture from the herald who had brought them from the Acropolis. Then down between the aisle of golden warriors, each standing tall and straight and motionless, golden-tipped spear by his side, short sword with hilt of gold at his belt, came a young man to receive them. He, too, was clad in gold, but not in armor, except for the fine shirt of mail, all of golden links. Below this appeared the short tunic with the deep crimson border denoting a man of Incarial rank. By his side was also a short sword but with a hilt that was not only gold but also gem-encrusted. His head was bare, his hair long and straight, and raven black. His face was thin and cruel. The soldiers saluted as he passed by, raising their spears before them, and ringing the butts on the stone flagging of the terrace. They rightly surmised he was the Captain of the Palace Guards, Guascar, the High Priest's nephew. Bowing low before Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton, who led their little column, he halted some six paces before them, and in halting, archaic Spanish said: "Ambassadors from the Lord Beyond the Mountains, I am instructed to lead you to the August Presence." "If you refer to the Inca of Cusco Hurrin," said Don Ernesto, "it is he whom we have traveled thus far to see." "What mean these strange objects borne by your men?" said Captain Guascar, sharply, pointing to the radio outfit carried by Pedro and Carlos. "This," said Don Ernesto, "is a gift from the Lord Beyond the Mountains to the Inca of Cusco Hurrin." "Come, then," said Captain Guascar, turning on his heel. All breathed easier. He had made no reference to their automatics. The first difficulty had been no difficulty at all. Guascar retraced his steps, the soldiers once more saluted, and the "ambassadors" marched up the aisle. Pedro and Carlos, who carried the main part of the radio outfit, and Jack and Ferdinand who assisted them, had their hands full. But the others unostentatiously kept their hands near their automatics, ready for action should treachery be displayed. The warriors, however, stood as if cast in bronze, and the passage of the aisle between their ranks was made without incident. As soon, however, as the "ambassadors" had entered the doorway, the guard closed in and fell in behind them. Inside the doorway was a great, bare, stone reception hall. Captain Guascar led the way across this to another doorway covered by hanging cloth of gold. Unseen hands pulled this back on either side and the officer entered, beckoning them to follow. Soon he crossed the threshold, he fell on his knees, his face bowed. Doubtless, the others, according to Court etiquette, should have done likewise. However, they had earlier talked this matter over among themselves, and it had been decided that they should carry themselves in proud fashion. They remained erect, therefore, awaiting developments. The scene before them was one to take away a man's breath. Foursquare and vast was the throne room, with the lofty stone ceiling supported by carven pillars. On each of these gleamed a circle of lights like golden censors hanging by chains, for, although it was broad day outdoors, it was perpetual gloom within. The floor was a mosaic of blue and red blocks of stone. And at the far end, opposite the doorway where they stood, was the throne. It was a great, high chair of gold, and on it was seated a man of great age whom they recognized for the Inca, as they had seen him at the ceremonies of the Festival of Raymi, the first morning of their captivity. From the door to the throne, between two rows of pillars, stretched a carpet of the Incarial crimson. Before the throne, which was raised upon a dais, stood a rank of the golden-armored Palace Guards. At the Inca's shoulder was the High Priest Cinto. Below the Inca, on an intermediate dais, stood a group of eight or nine in tunics, bearing the crimson border of Incarial rank. These were the members of the Cabinet or Council, with whom Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton had had audience the day before. The Inca lifted a hand slightly, and the gesture was understood. "Advance, O Ambassadors, from the Lord Beyond the Mountains," rolled out the voice of a herald who stood before the soldiers guarding the throne. "The Inca of Cusco Hurrin will receive you." "Steady, boys," cautioned Mr. Hampton, in a whisper over his shoulder, in English, so as not to be understood by Captain Guascar. Then they started forward down the carpet. At the foot of the throne the party halted. To either side of them stood the ranks of the Palace Guard. Behind these were groups of courtiers. Before them and to the right stood the nobles of the Council. Above them towered the Inca on his golden throne, and now they could see that the gleaming background thereof was a representation of the sun with a halo of projecting golden spikes. On the Inca's head was a crown also radiating golden spikes. They were aware, too, that the Palace Guard which had met them at the head of the outside stairway had closed in behind. Upon their wits depended their safety. They were completely hemmed in. All realized the situation acutely, none more so than Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto. These two looked fleetingly at each other, and each read in the other's eyes a growing anxiety as to whether their rash venture after all had been advisable. But each read, too, an indomitable courage, and knew he could count upon his comrade. Don Ernesto gave an almost imperceptible nod, indicating Mr. Hampton should proceed, as it had been agreed beforehand the American should act as spokesman. For one thing, he wore a Vandyke beard, which in itself was a badge of distinction, as all within Cusco Hurrin, like most Indians, were smooth-faced. Stepping slightly in advance of his party, therefore, Mr. Hampton bowed low before the Inca, and then began. He spoke in Spanish, and slowly, so that he might be understood. Representing that they came as ambassadors from the "Lord Beyond the Mountains," he spoke briefly of the might of that ruler. Then he told of the legend which for centuries had persisted, of the existence of Cusco Hurrin, and how he and his companions had come at length in search of the city. That they came in peace, he added, was attested by the fact that they came without armed followers. Having proceeded thus far, he next changed his tone to one of sternness, and referred to Prince Huaca. A general stir and rustle in the audience apprised him that not only the members of the Council but others also could gather the import of his words. Over the sharp, hawklike features of the High Priest Cinto passed an expression of anger, and he made an involuntary step forward. But Mr. Hampton's voice rang boldly forth. CHAPTER XXIV--THE MIRACLE WORKER "We found Prince Huaca, the heir to the throne," he said, "an enlightened and intelligent man, filled with enthusiasm for the betterment of his people and very desirous of learning of the many wonders and marvels in our country. "But"--and pausing deliberately and significantly, Mr. Hampton stared directly at the High Priest Cinto--"but," he added, "he told us evil counsellors surrounded the throne. He was captured and imprisoned. And now, O Inca, we ask that the evil men be punished and Prince Huaca be restored to the favor of your countenance." It was too much for the High Priest. His face became convulsed with rage. He made a step forward. But the Inca, whose eyes though old were shrewd, and who showed none of the senility of age, lifted his hand. The gesture was sufficient. "O Ambassador of the Lord Beyond the Mountains," said he, in a thin, clear voice, "you speak with a fearless tongue. But, tell me, by what right do you thus seek to interfere in the affairs of Cusco Hurrin? Why should I not command my soldiers to seize you at once?" "O Inca," answered Mr. Hampton, stoutly, betraying no sign of trepidation, "we have your safe conduct. Moreover, if any evil befall us, the Lord Beyond the Mountains will know of it instantly and will send his lightnings through the air for our protection." "What mean you?" asked the Inca, staring at him keenly. "This talk of knowing instantly is folly. Is not Cusco Hurrin a sealed city whence no messengers may depart? And are we not separated from this Lord of whom you speak by many leagues of wild land? And what means this talk of lightnings? Is the Inca of Cusco Hurrin a child to be frightened by foolish tales?" "Nay, Sire," said Mr. Hampton, imperturbably, bowing, "this is no foolish talk. Great is the power of the Lord Beyond the Mountains, and such power also dwells in us his ambassadors." "This talk of power does not please me," said the Inca, harshly. "Again I ask, what mean you?" "Would you have evidence of our power, O Inca," said Mr. Hampton, "then behold. For I have brought with me certain marvels with which to convince you. Shall I proceed, or is the Court of the Inca of Cusco Hurrin timid as a child and unwilling to look upon these marvels?" "Nay, nay, stranger, we are not fearful. For our power, too, is great," said the Inca. "Behold, here is my High Priest, who communes with our Lord, the Sun, and knows many secrets." On being thus indicated, Cinto assumed an expression of satisfaction. "Ah," said Mr. Hampton, composedly. "But can he order a man to pluck out his eye, to take his teeth from his mouth, or to remove the hair from his head, and be obeyed without injuring that man? Can he do this, and then restore that man to his original appearance?" There was a renewed stir of interest among the members of the Council, a renewed rustling in the audience. Cinto looked supercilious and haughty, but Mr. Hampton thought he detected a gleam of worry. As for the Inca, he leaned forward a bit and stared more sharply than before. "Nay," said he, "and be cautious, O Ambassador, lest your tongue lead you into idle boasting. For these matters of which you speak are for the God Himself alone to perform." "O Inca, I do not boast," said Mr. Hampton. "If you would behold, then observe closely." It was their cue. Pedro and Carlos advanced to take station beside Don Ernesto. Mr. Hampton faced them, arms extended. "Behold, O Inca," said he. "I speak, too, in the tongue of the Lord Beyond the Mountains--a tongue of power." And rapidly he began, in English: "Hocus pocus, abracadabra, Pedro, give me your eye." Pedro passed his hand over his glass eye, plucked it out, and then, good actor that he was, and thoroughly enjoying the situation, he turned so that the sightless cavity stared at the Inca and held up the eye between thumb and forefinger. A gasp of amazement and horror came from the audience. The boys who were watching the proceedings with keenest enjoyment had difficulty in restraining their laughter. "Look at the High Priest. He's going to faint." "Yes, and the Inca is paralyzed." Not pausing, Mr. Hampton next cried his incantations over Carlos, and the latter opened his mouth wide and brought forth his false teeth. He held them up, so that all could see. And, indeed, they were a gruesome sight, with the red rubber palate resembling the roof of the mouth. He, too, profiting from Pedro's example, stared toward the throne, lips wide apart, toothless gums displayed. If before had been horror and amazement, now was stupefaction. Whimpers of panic ran around the audience. The soldiers before the throne trembled, so that their erect spears waved like saplings in a strong wind. The Inca, the High Priest, the members of the Council, all were endeavoring to restrain their fright, but they were palsied with terror. "Good night," murmured Jack, suffocatingly. "He's got them. Oh, I'm going to blow up if I can't laugh soon." Mr. Hampton also realized he had his audience in his grip, and he proceeded to strike while the iron was hot. Extending a knife to Don Ernesto, he gestured with his hand to indicate the latter was to scalp himself. Don Ernesto complied. And a thorough job he did of it. Then he lifted off his toupee and held it, poised above his head. The lights from the pillar behind him gleamed on his shining bald head. It was too much for Inca nerves. The courtiers in the audience cried out whimperingly like frightened children and there was a great scurrying to get behind pillars. The soldiers before the throne, as if with one accord, threw themselves prone before this worker of wonders. There was a rush of feet away from their party in the rear, and the boys, turning, saw some of the soldiers of the rear guard, forgetful of discipline, forgetful of everything, stricken by blind fear, dashing madly for the doorway. "You've got them, Dad," cried Jack. "Look at the Inca. Look at the High Priest." The High Priest had fallen back a step or two, and assumed a crouching position. His attitude betokened not only fear, but desperation and hatred. Plain as if he had spoken the words, could be read in his expression the fear that here was a greater magician than he, the ruin of his hopes. As for the Inca, he had attempted to rise from his throne, but had fallen back and now cowered in the great chair, his hands over his eyes. Mr. Hampton's voice rang out. "Behold, O Inca," he cried, "your people flee before these wonders. But there are greater wonders to come. Bid them stay." His voice had the effect of arresting the panic. The Inca withdrew his hands, and by a tremendous effort pulled himself together. In a shaky voice, he said: "Continue." "You will observe," said Mr. Hampton, "that though one of these men has plucked out his eye, another his teeth, and a third has removed his hair, yet none have suffered pain nor bled. This itself is a great marvel, and by order of the beneficent Lord Beyond the Mountains, who protects his children from all harm. Now I shall restore them to their original appearance." He clapped his hands three times, and at this, the previously agreed-upon signal, Pedro replaced his eye, Carlos his teeth, and Don Ernesto his toupee. An audible shudder ran through the audience, most of whom, fascinated by the promise of more wonders, had halted in their flight and returned. The soldiers of the rear guard also had slunk back into place. "Captain Guascar is going to overlook their having started to flee," whispered Bob to Frank. "He's not paying any attention to them." "No wonder," whispered Frank, in reply. "He almost died of fright himself, and he's not over it yet, either." In truth, the doughty captain had a staring, hysterical look in his eyes, as if he had seen some frightful apparition, and his limbs still trembled. "These, O Inca," said Mr. Hampton, "are simple matters. It surprises me that your people should be surprised, for in my country any child can perform them. Indeed, any of my young men"--waving toward the boys--"can perform them as easily as I. Aye, if you so desire, I shall ask one of them to do so. And, if it be your wish"--he added, daringly--"I shall ask one of my young men to demonstrate upon one of your subjects. Shall we tell this lad"--laying his hand on Jack's shoulder--"to pluck forth the High Priest's eye?" "Hey, Dad, you're taking a long chance," whispered Jack, anxiously. He need not have worried. With a howl, Cinto leaped to the Inca's side, hands outspread. "O August One," he cried, "Representative of the Sun God, protect me from these evil spirits who be not men but demons." "Nay," said Mr. Hampton, "if the High Priest fears----" And he pushed Jack back into column. He had produced the effect he desired. He had unmasked the High Priest's fear, and publicly humiliated him. It would be better not to press the matter. They were skating on thin ice. What if the Inca should point to some man in disfavor and ask that they blind him, render him toothless or scalp him? He hurried on to another matter. Holding up his hand, index finger extended, he said: "O Inca, a greater marvel have I. Above me I can hear the voice of the Lord Beyond the Mountains. He wishes to speak to you. This great Lord speaks every tongue known to man; aye, even the Inca speech he knows, even though for hundreds of years none have spoken it in the world Beyond the Mountains. And this voice which I now hear, but which is inaudible to you within this hall, commands that I invite you to appear upon the terrace before your palace, where----" Mr. Hampton paused. He had been wracking his brain for a good reason to assign for urging the Inca to appear on the terrace in order to hear the radio. Now, as by inspiration, it came to him. "----Where," he added, "you will be under the protection of the Sun God and need fear no dark magic. This Lord Beyond the Mountains would speak to you now, within this hall, except that he desires you to feel secure. "He will speak to you in your own tongue," he added. "And this," he added, pointing to the radio outfit, "is the medium of his voice." He turned to his own party. "Come on, quick. Take up the outfit and let us march out. If we waver, there may be trouble. If we put on a bold front, I think the Inca will follow." CHAPTER XXV--A VOICE WARNS THE INCA That rear guard fell back before them, scrambling hastily to the sides that they might pass. Bob, Frank and Ferdinand felt sore from restrained laughter, and this new evidence of the panic they had created amused them and made restraint even more difficult. Jack, however, had fallen back beside Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto, and was bringing up the rear. His sharp eyes had discerned something which caused him grave concern, and he spoke of it in a quick whisper. "Cinto has disappeared," said he. "I have a hunch it means no good." "Ah," said Don Ernesto, shrugging, "these soldiers, they are frightened of us. The Golden Palace Guard is trembling in its armor. We have nothing to fear." "That's just it," said Jack. "Maybe Cinto realizes he cannot trust to these soldiers to attack us, and so he has gone to get others who have not fallen under our spell." "We'll keep our eyes open, Jack," said his father. "That's a hunch worth attention." "By golly, Dad, the Inca is following us all right. They're bringing up a litter for him. Four bearers are carrying it." "We won't look back, Don Ernesto," said Mr. Hampton. "It would injure our dignity to do so. Don't stare, Jack. Thank heaven, the old boy is coming. That means not only that we have got him on the run, but also that Cinto won't attempt any demonstration against us while the Inca is present, in all likelihood." The terrace was reached, and Jack and Frank at once began setting up the aerial. They had brought along a second umbrella aerial similar to that set up on the battlement of the Acropolis, which had been included in the outfit, and this they proceeded to set up. Then the three, Jack, Bob and Frank, connected up batteries, tube transformer and headphone. Meanwhile Mr. Hampton was staring covertly at the battlement of the Acropolis, towering high on the distant side of the square opposite. Would Michac fail them? Or would he carry out his part in the plot successfully? Mr. Hampton was thankful to think that, even if Michac should fail them, they were out in the open where they stood a better chance for their lives in a fight, and, also, that they had already roused a wholesome respect for their power in the breasts of their enemies. The boys worked with lightning swiftness. They were grateful for the delay in the arrival of the Inca, whose movements were attended by so many ceremonies that it was a considerable time before he had reached the terrace and was ensconced in a great chair brought out for him by other bearers. "Put on the headphone, Jack, and try it. See whether our friend Michac is at his post," whispered Mr. Hampton, when the last connections were completed. Jack complied, adjusting the tuner to the meter wave length at which he had set Michac's instrument. A smile broke over his face, and he nodded to his father. "Senor Jack, I am ready. My man at the parapet tells me you are at the 'phone. Thanks be to the gods, that you are safe out of that trap. I have been in agony, lest you be overcome and go to your death. I saw the soldiers move into the palace behind you. Now, if you let me speak to the Inca, I shall do my part." "Good man," whispered Mr. Hampton, when Jack repeated the conversation. "I'm beginning now really to hope for success. If he scares the Inca badly enough, we may hope for Prince Huaca's relief." Approaching the Inca, Mr. Hampton bowed. Then he gestured toward the radio instrument, the installation of which had been watched with absorbing and breathless interest by soldiers, courtiers and counsellors. "The Lord Beyond the Mountains would speak to you in your own tongue, O Inca," said he. "Will you deign to approach so as to put to your ears this instrument even as the young man has done." He indicated Jack, who at his father's direction, continued to wear the headphone and smiled invitingly. This, Mr. Hampton had felt, would help to assure the Inca no evil would come to him from acceptance of the invitation. "I assure you no evil will come to you thereby," Mr. Hampton added. The Inca regarded him with impassive face. His shrewd eyes sought to read the countenance of this strange magician and to detect whether he spoke in good faith or was attempting deception. He decided Mr. Hampton was honest. Moreover, it would not do for him to show fear. "Ambassador from the Lord Beyond the Mountains," said he. "I will listen to your master's voice, if, indeed, he can speak to me across the forests and the mountains, and in my own tongue. But woe betide you if this be false." Signing to the bearers, he was lifted, chair and all, and set down where Jack indicated. Then Mr. Hampton took the headphone, while a noble, at the Inca's command, stepped forth and, after prostrating himself, removed his crown. Thereupon Mr. Hampton placed the headphone upon the Inca's head. Stepping back quickly, he raised his hands aloft and looked to the heavens, as if indicating to some unseen spirit overhead that the time to speak had come. In reality, this was a signal to Michac's spy at the parapet of the Acropolis battlement to pass word to Michac to speak. The next moment, Michac's voice, sonorous and deep, was heard in the receivers. "Great guns," whispered Frank, in English, "what a wonderful radio speaker he is. Why, you can hear him plainly." "Wish I could understand what he's saying," said Jack, excitedly. "Look at these counsellors and courtiers, will you? They get him, and, boy, they're scared stiff." It was true. Michac had one of those rare voices with a bell-like quality that carries beautifully by radio. And he was obeying to the letter Jack's hasty instructions as to where to place his mouth near the transmitter so as to get the best effect. He spoke in the Inca tongue, and, of course, the boys could not understand what he said. Nevertheless, that it was having a powerful effect, not only on the courtiers and nobles surrounding the Inca, but on the Inca himself, was apparent. What Michac was saying, the boys knew in general, for he had been instructed to demand the release of Prince Huaca under threat of dire catastrophes to be visited upon Cusco Hurrin otherwise. But Michac had said that he would make his commands intimate, employing his knowledge of the Inca and the affairs of Cusco Hurrin. And, quite evidently, he was doing so. The Inca's face became white, his eyelids fluttered, and then his head fell forward. "Great guns," cried Bob, "he's fainted. The shock was too much for him." Jack sprang forward and snatched the headphones from the Inca's head. The audience gasped, and then its fear of these strangers, created by their marvels piled upon marvels, gave way before the deep-seated instinct of reverence for their ruler, the personal representative of their god. Hoarse cries of rage arose, and courtiers, nobles and soldiers, all jumbled together, began to surge forward toward them. Affairs looked bad, indeed. At that moment a shot sounded from the direction of the Temple of the Sun. Another followed. All spun about. Down the broad steps of the Temple came flying a familiar figure. It was Prince Huaca. Behind him was Cinto, followed by a detachment of the Palace Guard. The soldiers were armed only with sword and lance. Whence, then, came the shots? That was apparent the next instant. For, pausing in his flight, as with one great bound he reached the bottom of the steps, Prince Huaca faced about, leveled his arm, and fired. "The automatic," cried Mr. Hampton. "I forgot I had given him one." Cinto stumbled and fell in a crumpled heap on the steps. CHAPTER XXVI--THE MOUNTAIN SPEAKS "Come on, Dad," cried Jack. "Come on, fellows. Let's join him. We're in a bad hole here." So astounded was the crowd about them by this new development, that, for the moment, it had forgotten the fainting of the Inca, forgotten the strangers. It was their chance. Whipping out their automatics, the eight, close together, burst through the fringe about them on the edge of the terrace and darted down the steps. "Run, Prince," cried Mr. Hampton, in Spanish. "Run for the fortress. We are your friends. We follow." Prince Huaca heard, glanced their way, and then stood stock-still in amazement. He had known nothing of their presence. But sufficient that they were at hand and were coming to his rescue. A smile of joy broke forth on his face. Instead of starting directly across the square, he dashed along the face of the steps of the Temple toward them. Tumultuous cries broke out behind them now, and Bob and Jack, who brought up the rear, facing about, saw the mob of courtiers and soldiers, intermingled, start down the steps after them. One man was ahead of the others. He was Captain Guascar. Sword uplifted, unhindered by heavy armor as were his warriors, he came bounding down, three steps at a time. "I don't like his looks, anyway," Bob cried to Jack. "Here's where I spoil 'em." And, turning suddenly, the big fellow leaped back up the steps, dashed in under Guascar's up-raised sword, seized him about the waist, and with one mighty heave tossed his body into the face of the oncoming horde. The flying form crashed into an armor-clad soldier and the two fell to the steps, bringing down still others who stumbled over them, unable to turn aside. In a trice the mass piled up. "Run Bob, run," cried Jack, who had paused and turned back a step or two, revolver raised, to help his comrade with a shot, if necessary. Big Bob grinned, leaped back to Jack's side, and the two raced down the steps. This temporary diversion created by Bob's unexpected attack had given the others a good start. Their figures were out on the great square, darting for the distant fortress. Prince Huaca had joined them. The fall of the High Priest Cinto, shot down so unexpectedly by the prince, likewise had delayed pursuit from the Temple, as the soldiers had paused uncertainly, mystified as to this new form of death wielded by the prince. Mr. Hampton at first had not noticed the absence of his son and Bob, being interested in speeding on the others and in sweeping the prince into their party. But as they started across the square, he looked back to assure himself the boys were following. He was just in time to see Bob's mighty heave, and the ruin which it wrought. "Go on," he cried to the others. "We'll follow." And he waited for the approach of the two lads. When they came up, he started running swiftly with them. "Great stuff, Bob," he cried. "I saw it. You certainly piled them up." To gain the fortress seemed a simple matter, for pursuit was so far behind that it could not catch up with them, and the reunited party was congratulating itself on a safe return when, as they drew near the foot of the Acropolis, shots began to fly overhead and they saw a party of soldiers, armed with the ancient rifles, cutting obliquely from the mouth of a street on the left side of the square to intercept them. "We'll have to fight for it, after all," panted Don Ernesto, upon whom the pace was beginning to tell. But a cheer went up from Frank: "Michac to the rescue. Hurray." Out of the little sally port at the foot of the rock, reached by the stairway hewn from the living rock, came the band posted there by Michac upon their departure for just such an emergency. In the face of the fire of this troop, the band of pursuers fell back. A moment or two later, Prince Huaca was recognized by his soldiers with cries of joy. Casting the restraints of discipline aside, they seized him, raised him aloft in their arms with cries of "Huaca, Huaca." Some even wept while pressing their lips to his feet. Then, alarmed by the near approach of the main body of pursuers, they put him down and all joined in a final dash for the sally port. It was gained without casualties, although several shots whistled about them, indicating the nobles had been re-enforced by some of the foot soldiers armed with guns. The great gate clanged to behind them, and the pursuers fell back, baffled. They were safe. Safe, after incredible adventures. "Whew," said Bob, sitting down on the cool stone steps. "That was a hot one while it lasted." Michac came running down the steps to meet them. He and Prince Huaca embraced. Then the prince led the way up through the tunneled stairway, lighted by torches taken from the guard room at the gate, to the fortress above. Another moving scene was enacted in the main guard room, where the soldiers, laughing or weeping, according to their various temperaments, gathered about their leader. The prince was as much moved at this demonstration of esteem. At length, he broke away from them and, asking Michac and the others to accompany him, led the way to his apartment. There, while servants brought them refreshments of wine and cooling drinks made from fruit juices, the various threads of their intertwined adventures were straightened out. "First of all," said he to Michac, "how came you here, my friend?" When Michac explained, Prince Huaca embraced him. "The fortress would have fallen but for you," he said. "And these good friends here and I would have been slain." Michac flushed and turned the subject to that of the exploits of the others, whom he heartily praised. When he told of how they had ventured forth to the Inca's court and put themselves in the power of Cinto and the Palace Guard, in order to endeavor to obtain Prince Huaca's release, the latter was much affected. Mr. Hampton in his turn related what had occurred at their audience. And when he spoke of the impression created by the false eye, false teeth and false hair, nothing would do but that the whole performance be restaged for Prince Huaca. The key had been supplied him and, of course, he was not frightened. At Jack's explanation, added to by the others, of the consternation which this exhibition had caused, he laughed heartily. "Indeed, I can well believe it," he said. Then he sobered: "Ah, but how wonderful that men should be able to do these things. I myself had an aching tooth for long. Certainly, these blessings must come to Cusco Hurrin." He, in turn, related his own adventures. Surprised the previous night while he slept, he had been bound and gagged and carried out of the fortress by the sally port, the officer of which had turned traitor. For the occasion, this officer had reduced the guard to a half dozen men and had sent these into the guard room on some pretext. That he intended to admit the enemy as soon as Prince Huaca's capture was assured, the prince was convinced. Why, he asked, had plans miscarried? Why had the enemy not entered? "The soldiers became suspicious," answered Michac. "When you were carried out, bound, although they did not at first know it was you, they leaped for the gate and managed to close it in the face of the enemy. Then the treacherous officer was overcome, and the guard room roused in time to prevent other traitorous officers from throwing open the main gate." "These men----" The prince half rose from his chair, his face dark. "They have been attended to," said Michac, simply, but significantly. "And then what, Prince Huaca?" asked Mr. Hampton. "What did they do with you?" "My life, though once attempted by an assassin," said Prince Huaca, "was spared. Why, I know not." "The man I captured wasn't an assassin, Prince Huaca," said Bob. "At least Senor Michac so stated. But he can tell you." Michac nodded, and briefly related what had since been learned or suspected, that the man was one of the band to spirit Prince Huaca away. "At any rate," continued the prince, "I was imprisoned in Cinto's chambers in the Temple, and considered that, perhaps, I was to be made a sacrifice to the Sun God. You know, Senor Hampton, that Michac and I and numbers of others in Cusco Hurrin are not idolators, but worship the true God as revealed in the teachings of the Spanish Fathers who came centuries ago with de Arguello. It is one of my grievances that the Inca permits himself to be dominated by this Cinto, who continues the old idolatrous religion because of the hold it gives him upon the people. "There, to continue, I was held close prisoner under guard, although my bonds were removed. Yet the little weapon you gave me"--and he drew out the automatic--"was not taken from me. I but awaited my chance. 'If I must die,' I said to myself, 'I shall attempt to take Cinto and Guascar with me and thus rid my land of their curse.' "Today, only a little while ago, Cinto came to my room. And he was greatly enraged and frightened, too. Why, I did not know. For I did not know of your presence. He had not spoken of it. He ordered the guards to take me from the Temple precincts, and I knew he meant to have me slain but feared to stain the Temple with my blood, lest the people turn against him. I resolved to use my weapon to escape, if possible, but, if that could not be done, at least to slay Cinto too. "They took me to the portico of the Temple, and then I shot down my two guards, broke away, and, as I ran, turned and shot Cinto. You know the rest." As he ceased speaking, there was a rumble as of distant thunder, and the floor beneath them swayed slightly but perceptibly. CHAPTER XXVII--THE DOOMED CITY They looked at each other. "The volcano," said Jack. "Remember, I saw it smoking." Michac nodded, a troubled look on his face. "The mountain speaks," he said. "It was somewhat on that account, Prince Huaca, that I came to visit you, for from my valley I had seen it smoking." "Look here," said Mr. Hampton, jumping to his feet, "this is dangerous. Has it ever erupted?" he asked Michac. "Never in our history," said the latter. "Yet, although it has smoked slightly at times, never has it smoked as it is doing now. From the battlement I could see a dense and growing column of smoke." "Let us go and look." Prince Huaca, too, looked grave. He acquiesced in Mr. Hampton's suggestion, and at once led the way to the battlement. Although the truncated top of the volcano could not be seen, being cut off from view by the flank of the mountain against which the Acropolis was built, yet the column of smoke rising above it could be seen plainly. It was black and greasy in appearance, and there was even a faint suggestion of flame at the base. "This is alarming," said Don Ernesto gravely. "My advice is to leave here at once, if we would gain the outer valley." Prince Huaca was silent for a space. "And is the city really threatened?" "Prince," said Don Ernesto, "there are other volcanoes in these mountains. I have had experience of them. I believe the danger is great. There may not be an earthquake of serious proportions, but that slight tremor which we felt is alarming. I fear there will be greater shocks and that the mountain will erupt." "There is no escape from Cusco Hurrin except by the Tunnel Way," said the prince. "This earthquake of which you speak? What is it like?" "It is a shaking of the earth which would close the Tunnel Way," said Don Ernesto. "And the eruption is an outpouring of hot mud and stones from the mountain, which would ruin the city and slay all in it." "Then," said Prince Huaca, "we must abandon the fortress and flee to the outer valley. And those in the city must be warned." "But what if the earthquake do not come?" asked Michac. "You will have lost the fortress and your power." "The people must be saved," said Prince Huaca. "Come." With a last look at the column of smoke, he started to go below. Frank, however, pulled Jack and Bob aside. "Better radio the monastery while we have the chance," said he. "And tell them what's happened. Then we can dismount the set and take it along for emergencies." Mr. Hampton, who overheard, nodded. "But hurry," he said. Hurry the boys did. Brother Gregorio at the monastery was easily reached. The conversation was brief. Then the set was dismantled, and the three boys hurried below with the parts. Throughout the fortress all was bustle and hurry. Men were hastening through the corridors on various missions. They made their way to the prince's apartment, where they were met by Michac, who told them their friends had gone on to their own room. There they found the others hastily collecting their belongings. Each assumed part of the load, while the balance, including tents, was given bearers sent to their help by the prince. Then they made their way to the main guard room, from there to the outer courtyard behind its great walls, and thence to the Tunnel Way, opening in the side of the mountain. "It would be a fine idea," grumbled Bob, "if after all our adventures we got in the middle of this tunnel and an earthquake came along and shook it down on us." Nevertheless, nothing of the sort occurred, and they reached the outer valley in safety, piloted by Michac. He took them to his home. Toward the end of the day they were joined there by Prince Huaca, with the main body of troops from the fortress. These encamped in the grounds about Michac's home. "I sent a messenger to the Inca," the prince explained, "telling him of the danger threatening Cusco Hurrin and advising him to order the populace to flee through the Tunnel Way. I told him I was abandoning the fortress, and leaving the tunnel open. The messenger returned with word that the Inca, who had recovered from his attack of faintness, deemed me a rebel and refused to be entrapped. I despatched the messenger again with stronger representations, but again he returned with an even stronger and more contemptuous refusal. All day I have waited, with the gates of the fortress open, but no move has been made. "My poor people," he groaned, "my poor city." Abruptly he left them. "But, Dad," said Jack, "think of it. A whole city in danger of destruction merely because a ruler is stubborn. Can't we do something? Can't we persuade them to flee? And such a city, too. The Enchanted City of the Caesars! Here we go and find it, and are about to give it to the world, and now it may be wiped out. But the people. Oh, this is horrible." Even as he spoke, the ground shook beneath his feet, for they had walked down to the public highroad, and from the distant mountain sounded a heavy rumbling and roaring. They were fully twenty miles removed, a range of foothills intervened and they were safe from a volcanic eruption, for the configuration of the land as such, Don Ernesto had pointed out, that the lava flow would be away from them and directly into the doomed city. The crash and the tremor were succeeded by a sultriness that was almost unbearable. Then the ever-thickening cloud overhanging the mountain seemed to their straining eyes to spread out into a gigantic mushroom that blotted out the whole sky in the east. Flames began to shoot high above the mountain top, illuminating the under side of that sable pall. There was another and stronger earth tremor, almost throwing them from their feet. The flames shot higher. "Now," said Don Ernesto, in an awed voice, "The Enchanted City is no more. The lava is flowing over it now." CHAPTER XXVIII--CONCLUSION Back in the monastery, the party rested several days before making its way to the railroad and Santiago. But they were not idle. By means of the radio station, which the boys had built on their earlier visit, the whole story of their adventures was communicated to _La Prensa_, and thus for the first time the tale of the Enchanted City in its entirety, of its centuries of history unknown to the rest of the world, of its rediscovery and of its final wiping out by a volcanic eruption, was given to the world by radio. The Chilian President was communicated with, and, at Don Ernesto's solicitation, he despatched a relief column to the refugees in the outer valley of Cusco Hurrin who, while escaping the full force of the destruction, had suffered considerable damage. Prince Huaca had refused to accompany the party, but had stayed with Michac to look after the welfare of the remainder of his people. He bade the party farewell, with tears of mingled sadness for the fate that had befallen the city of his fathers and of grief at parting with those who had stood by him in his hour of need. "It was the hand of God," he said, on bidding them adieu. "I fear that Cusco Hurrin, as it was organized, could never have become part of the wonderful modern world of which you have told me. There would have been war and bloodshed, and prolonged ruin. "As to me and my people who are left, we shall become citizens of this country of which you speak, Don Ernesto, if your brother, the ruler, will receive us." And thus it is that today, in that remote fastness of the Andes, the descendants of the Incas live in peace and prosperity, tilling their lands, while Prince Huaca, who has brought in teachers from the outside world, has made it possible for them to become taught the rudiments of modern knowledge. On departing, the boys promised to fly to the valley some day by airplane, and their visit is eagerly awaited. At Santiago, in Ferdinand's home, the boys spent many pleasant days, for they were the lions of the day. And the gracious homes of the fair city were open to them, while everywhere they were plied with questions regarding the Enchanted City and their adventures therein. Best of all the stories was that of how the Inca's court had been dumbfounded by the white man's magic which could induce a man to pluck out his eye, his teeth or his hair, without fatal result. Many a laugh did they win with this yarn. "If you boys don't stop talking about my toupee," complained Don Ernesto, one day, "I shall have no peace at all. Wherever I go, I am asked to scalp myself." "Well, Don Ernesto," said Mr. Hampton, "I am going to remove their mischievous tongues to a distance, where they cannot do damage to your reputation." Don Ernesto immediately was filled with compunctions lest he have hurt their feelings. But Mr. Hampton laughed these away. "No, the truth of the matter is," he said, "that the boys have missed the major part of their college year. Christmas has come and gone. It would take considerable time for them to return to America. And I have been in communication with Mr. Temple, who feels as I do that, inasmuch as they have missed so much college work this year, we may as well let them stay out the remainder of the term. Accordingly, I am going to take them on a tour of South America. I want them to see the great cities of your eastern seaboard, as well as the remains of the Inca civilization in Peru and Bolivia. "Bob and Frank, you see, will some day be partners in an import and export business, and I want them to learn about South America while they have the opportunity, for they will have many dealings with this continent in the future." Turning to the boys, he added: "We will tour South America, and then return home by way of Seattle, where I shall have to see some mining men about an Alaskan adventure. Does that suit you?" "Couldn't suit us better," said Bob, "except that I'm afraid old Frank here is anxious to see a member of my family. I woke up the other night and he was talking in his sleep. 'Della,' he said, 'Della, why----'" But Frank had tripped him and sat on him, and the rest of the sentence was lost in the resultant tussle. "You big rascal," panted Frank. "I suppose I haven't seen you writing to that girl Della rooms with at school. Oh, no. Thought you'd sneak it over, hey?" Jack looked on, grinning. In reality, however, Bob's remark had set him to dreaming of a distant girl. He was thinking of a certain Senorita Rafaela in the Sonora mountains in Old Mexico. This Spanish-American atmosphere! Hang it, every time he was surrounded by it, his thoughts turned to her. Some day----In this mood, he left his struggling companions and walked to a window whence he stared unseeing. So here we shall leave the three Radio Boys, content to know, however, that when they eventually reached Seattle in the Northern winter, they were drawn into a search for a lost expedition in the interior of Alaska, no less thrilling than the adventure through which they had just passed. And this will be duly chronicled in _The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition_. THE END The Radio Boys Series BY GERALD BRECKENRIDGE A new series of copyright titles for boys of all ages. Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH THE RADIO BOYS ON THE MEXICAN BORDER THE RADIO BOYS ON SECRET SERVICE DUTY THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE REVENUE GUARDS THE RADIO BOYS' SEARCH FOR THE INCA'S TREASURE THE RADIO BOYS RESCUE THE LOST ALASKA EXPEDITION For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York The Ranger Boys Series BY CLAUDE H. LA BELLE A new series of copyright titles telling of the adventures of three boys with the Forest Rangers in the state of Maine. Handsome Cloth Binding. PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH. THE RANGER BOYS TO THE RESCUE THE RANGER BOYS FIND THE HERMIT THE RANGER BOYS AND THE BORDER SMUGGLERS THE RANGER BOYS OUTWIT THE TIMBER THIEVES THE RANGER BOYS AND THEIR REWARD For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers. A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York The Boy Troopers Series BY CLAIR W. 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BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York The Boy Allies (Registered in the United States Patent Office) With the Navy BY ENSIGN ROBERT L. DRAKE For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH Frank Chadwick and Jack Templeton, young American lads, meet each other in an unusual way soon after the declaration, of war. Circumstances place them on board the British cruiser, "The Sylph," and from there on, they share adventures with the sailors of the Allies. Ensign Robert L. Drake, the author, is an experienced naval officer, and he describes admirably the many exciting adventures of the two boys. THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL; or, Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet. THE BOY ALLIES UNDER TWO FLAGS; or, Sweeping the Enemy from the Sea. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON; or, The Naval Raiders of the Great War. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE TERROR OF THE SEA; or, The Last Shot of Submarine D-16. THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE SEA; or, The Vanishing Submarine. THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC; or, Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar. THE BOY ALLIES AT JUTLND; or, The Greatest Naval Battle of History. THE BOY ALLIES WITH UNCLE SAM'S CRUISERS; or, Convoying the American Army Across the Atlantic. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE SUBMARINE D-32; or, The Fall of the Russian Empire. THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE VICTORIOUS FLEETS; or, The Fail of the German Navy. For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers A. L. BURT COMPANY 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York The Boy Allies (Registered in the United States Patent Office) With the Army BY CLAIR W. HAYES For Boys 12 to 16 Years. All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH In this series we follow the fortunes of two American lads unable to leave Europe after war is declared. They meet the soldiers of the Allies, and decide to cast their lot with them. 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23728	----	WALTER AND THE WIRELESS By Sara Ware Bassett _The Invention Series_ PAUL AND THE PRINTING PRESS STEVE AND THE STEAM ENGINE TED AND THE TELEPHONE WALTER AND THE WIRELESS [Illustration: "K Y W Chicago, Illinois. Stand by fifteen minutes for----." FRONTISPIECE. _See page_ 208.] The Invention Series WALTER AND THE WIRELESS BY SARA WARE BASSETT WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WILLIAM F. STECHER BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1923 _Copyright, 1923_, BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. _All rights reserved_ Published March, 1923 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA To PAUL MARBLE AND HIS COLLIE BOBS, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I HIS HIGHNESS 1 II THE NEW JOB 17 III WHAT WORRIED MRS. KING 36 IV WALTER MAKES HIS BOW TO HIS EMPLOYER 50 V THE CONQUEST OF ACHILLES 64 VI HIS HIGHNESS IN A NEW ROLE 75 VII THE PURSUIT OF LOLA 92 VIII A BLUNDER AND WHAT CAME OF IT 104 IX MORE CLUES 116 X BOB 127 XI THE DECISION 138 XII LESSONS 147 XIII INFORMATION FROM A NEW SOURCE 162 XIV BOB AS PEDAGOGUE 169 XV TIDINGS 183 XVI MIRACLES 197 XVII THE LAWS OF THE AIR 210 XVIII THE NET TIGHTENS 228 XIX WALTER STEPS INTO THE BREACH 238 XX THE RETURN OF THE WANDERERS 248 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "K Y W CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. STAND BY FIFTEEN MINUTES FOR----" _Frontispiece_ PAGE THE TWO BOYS WOULD DISCUSS BOATS, FISHING AND KINDRED INTERESTS 76 "YOU WILL GET ALL THE WIRELESS COMING TO YOU, THAT'S ALL. TAKE IT FROM ME" 154 CLEARLY AND EVENLY THE MESSAGE TICKED ITSELF OFF. THEN THERE WAS SILENCE 240 WALTER AND THE WIRELESS CHAPTER I HIS HIGHNESS His Highness came by the nickname honestly enough and yet those who heard it for the first time had difficulty in repressing a smile at the incongruity of the title. In fact perhaps no term could have been found that would have been less appropriate. For Walter King possessed neither dignity of rank nor of stature. On the contrary he was a short, snub-nosed boy of fifteen, the epitome of good humor and democracy. His hair was red and towsled, his face spangled with great golden freckles which sea winds and sunshine had multiplied until there was scarce room for another on his beaming countenance. Hands and arms were freckled too, for when one lives in a bathing suit six months of the year and is either in the water or on it most of the time the skin fails to retain its pristine whiteness of hue. But His Highness did not care a fig for that. He was far too busy baiting eel and lobster traps, mending fish nets, untangling lines, and painting boats to give a thought to his personal beauty. Indeed his mother often bewailed the fact that he was not more interested in his appearance and there were times when it seemed as if she were right. Certainly when her son ambled home at dusk with every rebellious hair standing upended upon his head and a string of flounders dripping salt from the tips of their slimy tails she was justified to a degree in wishing he had more regard for the niceties of life. "Look at the mess you're making!" she would pipe indignantly. "I've just mopped this floor, Walter." "You have? Now isn't that the dickens! Well, no matter, Ma; I'll swab the place down again when I've finished cleaning these fish. They're beauties, aren't they? A batch of them fried won't go bad for supper to-night. I'm hungry as a bear. Shouldn't think I'd eaten anything in ten years. Say, Ma, what do you s'pose? Dave Corbett was out in the _Nancy_ three hours and never got a bite. What do you think of that? The wind died down, his engine got stalled, and he and Hosey Talbot had to row home from the Bell Reef Shoals. Haw, haw! Maybe I didn't roar when I saw them come pulling in against the tide, mad as two man-eating sharks. Fit to harpoon the first person they met, they were. I sung out and asked them were they practicing for the Harvard and Yale boat race and Dave was that peeved he shied an oarlock after me. Haw, haw, haw!" "You ought not to provoke Dave, Walter." "Provoke him? But he was provoked already, Ma. There's no harm putting an extra stick on the fire when it's burning, anyhow. Besides, Dave is never in earnest when he bawls me out. He just likes to hear himself scold." "He has a terrible temper." "Oh, I know half the town is scart to death of him. But he always will take a jolly from me. We understand each other, Dave and I. Say, Ma, these rubber boots leak. Did you know that? Yes, siree! They leak like sieves. I might as well be without 'em." Mrs. King sighed. "I don't see," murmured she, "how you manage to go through everything you have so quickly, Walter. Nothing you wear lasts you more than a week." "Oh, I say, make it a month. Do, now!" He saw his mother smile faintly. "Well, a month then." "You couldn't stretch it to two?" "Not possibly. Four weeks seems to be your limit." The sharpness of her tone, however, had weakened. "Four weeks, eh? I did think I'd had these rubber boots longer than that. It is amazing how attached you can get to things even in a little while." Holding aloft the knife with which he was preparing to behead the unlucky flounders, His Highness gazed reflectively down at his feet. "It's awful that I have to keep having so many things, isn't it? I hate to be costing you money all the time. Now if you'd only let me ship for the Grand Banks when the _Katie B._ goes out----" "Walter! What is the use of digging up that old bone again? I never shall let you ship for the Grand Banks or any other Banks so long as I live. We've had this out hundreds of times before. You know you and Bob are all I've got in the world. Do you suppose I want you lost in a fog and never heard from again?" "Oh, Great Scott, Ma! They don't lose fishing boats now as they used to. They carry wireless, and the fleet keeps in touch every minute." "The dories have no wireless aboard them," observed Mrs. King grimly. "I suppose not, no, probably they don't," His Highness admitted reluctantly. "Anyway, wireless or no wireless, you are not going on a fishing cruise to the Grand Banks." "I hear you, Ma," grinned the boy. "There is plenty of work right here on the land if you're looking for it. Why must you always be wanting to go to sea to earn money?" "Faith, Mother, I don't know," laughed Walter. "I expect it's because I see chores to do when I'm afloat that I can't see ashore. It is the way I was born." "A poor way." "Maybe it is. At any rate I can't help it." "I'm afraid you do not try to help it very hard." The lad shrugged his shoulders. "There's that chance you have to hire out at the Crowninshields' for the summer." "Those snobs." "Beggars cannot be choosers. Besides, they may not be snobs at all. What makes you think they are?" "Oh, I don't mind the lugs they put on," protested Walter, evading the issue. "I suppose all New York swells do that. It's what they want me for that gets my goat." Again the knife he held was tragically upraised. "How would you like to be nursemaid to six or eight brainless little pups no bigger than rats? Not but what I like dogs. I'd like nothing better than to own a fine dog of some spirit. But those imitations! Why, before a week was out, I'd have their necks wrung." "Mr. Crowninshield promised to pay you well." "What's money if all the kids in town are going to josh you?" "Money is a good deal when you need it." His mother shook her head gravely. "Have you ever considered how badly we are in want of money, Walter?" "What do you mean, Ma?" The boy wheeled about, startled. "I haven't said anything about it, dear, because I could not bear to have you boys bothered," was the quiet answer. "But lately things have not been going well and I have been pretty much worried. The money your Uncle Henry invested for us isn't paying any dividends; there seems to be something the matter with the company's affairs. As for your Uncle Mark Miller, I've heard nothing from him in months. His ship was to put in at Shanghai for cargo and I ought to have had a letter by now; but none has come and I am afraid something must be the trouble. He is a good brother and never fails to send me money. I can ill afford to be without help now when the mortgage is coming due and I have so many bills to meet. It takes a deal of money to live nowadays. You boys do not realize that." "Why, I had no idea you were fussed, Mother, and I'm sure Bob hadn't either," declared Walter soberly. "Then I have done better than I thought I had," returned his mother, with the shadow of a smile. "I wanted to keep it secret if I could." "But you shouldn't have tried to keep it a secret, Mater dear," Walter replied. "I'm sure we'd rather know--at least I would." "But what use is it?" "Use? Why, all the use in the world, Ma. I shall go ahead and take Mr. Crowninshield's job for one thing." "But you said----" "Shucks! I was only fooling about the dogs, Mother. I shan't really mind exercising and taking care of them at all. Of course, I won't deny I'd rather they were Great Danes or police dogs; I'd even prefer Airedales or Cockers. Still I suppose these little mopsey Pekingese must have some brains or the Lord would not have made them. No doubt I shall get used to them in time." "It is only for the summer vacation anyway, you know," ventured his mother. "The Crowninshields go back to New York in October." "I certainly ought to be able to bear up a few months," laughed Walter, with a ludicrously wry twist of his mouth. "I hate to think you've been bothered and have been keeping it all to yourself." "Misery does like company," Mrs. King returned with an unsteady laugh. "I believe I feel better already for having told you. But you must not worry, dear. We shall pull through all right, I guess. How I came to speak of it I don't know. It was only that it seemed such a pity to toss the Crowninshield offer aside without even considering it. Nobody knows where it might end. The village people say Mr. Crowninshield is a very generous man, especially if he takes a fancy to anybody." "But he may not take a fancy to me." "He must have done so already to be asking you to help with the dogs." "Nonsense, Ma! Did you think Mr. Crowninshield picked me out himself? Why, he's never laid eyes on me. That great privilege is still in store for him. No, he simply told Jerry Thomas, the caretaker, to find somebody for the job before the family arrived. He doesn't care a darn who it is so long as he has a person who can be trusted with his priceless pups. Why, I heard the other day that a dealer from New York had offered five thousand dollars for the smallest one." "Walter!" "Straight goods!" "Five thousand dollars for a dog!" gasped Mrs. King. Her son chuckled at her incredulity. "Sure!" "But it's a fortune," murmured she. "I had no idea there was a dog on earth worth that much." "All of them are not." "But five thousand dollars!" she repeated. "Why, Walter, I wouldn't have you responsible for a creature like that for anything in the world. You might as well attempt to be custodian of a lot of gold bonds. I shouldn't have a happy moment or sleep a wink thinking of it. Suppose some of the little wretches were to run away and get lost? Or suppose they were to be stolen? Or they might get sick and die on your hands." "That is why they want a responsible person to keep an eye on them." His Highness squared his shoulders and threw out his chest. "But you are not a responsible person," burst out Mrs. King with unflattering candor. "Mother!" "Well--are you?" she insisted. The boy's figure shriveled. "No," he confessed frankly, "I'm afraid I'm not." "Of course you're not," continued his mother with the same brutal truthfulness. "It isn't that you do not mean to be, sonny," added she kindly. "But your mind wanders off on all sorts of things instead of the thing you're doing. That is why you do not get on better in school. All your teachers say you are bright enough if you only had some concentration to back it up. What you can be thinking of all the time I cannot imagine; but certainly it isn't your lessons." "I know," nodded Walter without resentment. "My mind does flop about like a kite. I think of everything but what I ought to. It's a rotten habit." "Well, all I can say is you'd be an almighty poor one to look after a lot of valuable dogs," sniffed his mother. "I'll bet I could do it if I set out to." "But would you set out to--that is the question? Would you really put your entire attention on those dogs so that other people could drop them from their minds? That is what taking care means." "I couldn't promise. I could only try." "I should never dare to have you undertake it." "That settles it, Ma," announced His Highness. "I've evidently got to prove to you that you are wrong. I'm going up to Crowninshields' this minute to tell Jerry he can count on me from July until October." "You're crazy." "Wait and see." "I know what I'll see," was the sharp retort. "I shall see all those puppies kicking up their heels and racing off to Provincetown, and Mr. Crowninshield insisting that you either find them and bring them back or pay him what they cost him." "Don't you believe it." "That is what will happen," was the solemn prophecy. "But you were keen for me to take the job." "That was before I knew what the little rats were worth." "You just thought it was a cheap sort of a position and that I was to race round and make it pleasant for a lot of ordinary curs, didn't you?" interrogated the lad with mock indignation. In spite of herself his mother smiled. "Well, you see you were wrong," went on Walter. "It is not that sort of thing at all. It is a job for a trustworthy man, Jerry Thomas said, and will bring in good wages." "It ought to," replied his mother sarcastically, "if a person must spend every day for three months sitting with his eyes glued on those mites watching every breath they draw." "It isn't just days, Mother; I'd have to be there nights as well." "_What!_" "That's what Jerry told me. I'd have to sleep on the place. Mr. Crowninshield wants some one there all the time." "But Walter----!" Mrs. King broke off in dismay. "I know that would mean leaving you alone now that Bob has a regular position at the Seaver Bay Wireless station. Still, why should you mind? I have always been gone all day, anyhow; and at night I sleep so soundly that you yourself have often said burglars might carry away the bed from under me and I not know it." "You are not much protection, that's a fact," confessed Mrs. King. "Fortunately, though, I am not a timid person. It is not that I am afraid to stay here alone. My chief objection is that it seems foolish to run a great house like this simply for myself." "Couldn't you get some one to come and keep you company?" "Who, I should like to know?" "Why--why--well, I haven't thought about it. Of course there's Aunt Marcia King." "Mercy on us!" exclaimed his mother, instantly flaring up. "I'd rather see the evil one himself put in an appearance than your Aunt Marcia. Of all the fault-finding, critical, sharp-tongued creatures in the world she is the worst. Why, I'd let burglars carry away every stick and stone I possess and myself thrown in before I would ask her here to board." "My, Mother! I'd no idea you had such a temper. You're as bad as Dave Corbett," asserted Walter teasingly. His mother tossed her head but he saw her flush uncomfortably. "I suppose you wouldn't want a regular boarder," suggested the boy in order to turn the conversation. "A _boarder_!" There was less disapproval than surprise in the ejaculation, however. "Lots of people in the town do take summer boarders," added he. "The thought never entered my head before," reflected his mother aloud. "There certainly is plenty of room in the house, and we have a royal view of the water. Besides, there's the garden. Strangers are always coming here in vacation time and asking if they may look at it or sketch it. It never seemed anything very remarkable to me for most of the flowers have sown themselves and grow like weeds, but of course there's no denying the hollyhocks, poppies, and larkspur are pretty. But visitors always call it wonderful." "Most likely you could get a big price if you were to rent rooms." "I'm sure I could," replied Mrs. King thoughtfully. "It would help toward the mortgage and the other bills, too. I've half a mind to try it, Walter." "It would mean extra work for you." "Pooh! What do I care for that? Not a fig! In fact, with both of you boys away I'd rather be busy than not," was the quick retort. "Do you suppose Bob would mind?" "Bob? Why, he's seldom at home nowadays. Why should he care?" "Aunt Marcia might think----" began the boy mischievously. But the comment was cut short. "Oh, I know what your Aunt Marcia would say," broke in Mrs. King. "She'd hold up her hands in horror and announce that it was beneath the dignity of the family to take boarders." They both laughed. "I believe the very notion of scandalizing her will be what will decide me," concluded his mother with finality. "I'll put an advertisement in the Boston paper to-morrow and see what luck I have. If the right people do not turn up, why I don't have to take them." "Sure you don't." "It's a good plan, a splendid plan, Walter. Boarders will give me company and money too. I wonder it never occurred to me to do it before." Then she patted the lad's shoulder, adding playfully, "I guess if you have brains in one direction you must have them in another. Still, as I said before, I do not fancy your being responsible for those dogs." "Pooh! You quit worrying, Ma, or I shall be sorry I told you they were blue ribbon pups." "I should have heard of it, never fear. You hear of everything in this town. You can't help it. Like as not everybody in the place will know by to-morrow morning that I am going to take boarders. Luckily I don't care--that's one good thing. And as to the dogs, if you are resolved to accept that position all I can say is that you must keep a head on your shoulders. You cannot hire out for a job unless you are prepared to give a full return for the money paid you. It is not honest. So think carefully what you mean to do before you embark. And remember, if you get into some careless scrape you cannot come back on me for money for I haven't any to hand over." "I shall shoulder my own blame," responded Walter, drawing in his chin. "Well and good then. If you are ready to do that, it is your affair and I have nothing more to say," announced Mrs. King, preparing to leave the room. But Walter stayed her on the threshold. "I don't see," he began, "why you always seem to expect I'm going to get into a scrape. You are never looking for trouble with Bob." "Bob! Bless your heart I never have to! You know that as well as I do. Any one could trust Bob until the Day of Judgment. He never forgets a word you tell him. Ask him to do an errand and it is as good as done. You can drop it from your mind. From a little child he was dependable like that. His teachers couldn't say enough about him. Wasn't he always at the head of his class? The way he's turned out is no surprise. Think of his picking up wireless enough outside school hours to get a radio job during the war, and afterward that fine position at Seaver Bay! Few lads his age could have done it. And think of the messages he's entrusted with--government work, and sinking ships, and goodness knows what not!" The proud mother ceased for lack of breath. "I wish I was like Bob," sighed Walter gloomily. "Nonsense!" was the instant exclamation. "You're yourself, and scatter-brain as you are, I'd want you no different. You're but a lad yet. When you are Bob's age you may be like him. Who knows?" "I'm afraid not," came dismally from Walter. "I haven't started out as Bob did." "What if you haven't? There's time enough to catch up if you hurry. And anyway, I do not want my children all alike. Variety is the spice of life. I wouldn't have you patterned after Bob if I could speak the word." "You wouldn't?" the boy brightened. "Indeed I wouldn't! Who would I be patching torn trousers or darning ripped sweaters for if you were like Bob, I'd like to know? Who'd be pestering me to hunt up his cap and mittens? And who would I be frying clams for?" "Bob never could abide clam fritters, could he?" put in the younger brother. "Bob never had any frivolities," mused Mrs. King, shaking her head. "Sometimes I've almost wished he had if only to keep the rest of us in countenance. Many's the time I've feared lest he was going to die he was that near perfect." "Well, Ma, you haven't had to lie awake worrying because I was too good for this world, have you?" chuckled His Highness, breaking into a grin. His mother regarded him affectionately. "Oh, you'll make your way too, sonny, some day. It won't be as Bob has done it; but you'll make it nevertheless. Folks are going to do things for you simply because they cannot help it." The boy studied her with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean, Mater?" As if coming out of a reverie Mrs. King started, the mistiness that had softened her eyes vanishing. "There! Look at the way you've splashed up my nice clean sink!" complained she tartly. "Did any one ever see such a child--always messing up everything! Come, clear out of here and take your fish with you. It does seem as if you needed four nursemaids and a valet at your heels to pick up after you. Be off this minute." With a cloth in one hand and a bar of soap in the other, she elbowed him away from the dishpan. "You'll fry these flounders for supper, won't you, Ma?" called the lad as he disappeared into the shed. "Fry 'em? I reckon I'll have to. It's wicked to catch fish and not use 'em." But he saw his mother's eyes twinkle and her grumbling assent did not trouble him. CHAPTER II THE NEW JOB May at Lovell's Harbor was one of the most beautiful seasons of the year. In fact the inhabitants of the town often remarked that they put up with the winters the small isolated village offered for the sake of its springs and summers. Certain it was that when easterly storms swept the marshes and lashed the harbor into foam; when every boat that struggled out of the channel returned whitened to the gunwale with ice, there was little to induce anybody to take up residence in the hamlet. How cold and blue the water looked! How the surf boomed up on the lonely beach and the winds howled and whined around the eaves of the low cottages! One buttoned himself tightly into a greatcoat then, twisted a muffler many times about his neck, pulled his cap over his ears, and rushed for school with a velocity that almost equaled the scudding schooners whose sails billowed large against the horizon. At least that was what His Highness, Walter King, invariably did. But from the instant the breath of spring stole into the air,--ah, then Lovell's Harbor became a different place altogether. The stems of the willows fringing the small fresh-water ponds mellowed to bronze before one's very eyes; the dull reaches of salt grass turned emerald; the steely tint of the sea softened to azure and glinted golden in the sun. How shrill sounded the cries of the redwings in the marsh! How jolly the frogs' twilight chorus! The miracle went on with amazing rapidity. Soon you were scouring the hollows in the woods for arbutus or splashing bare-legged into the bogs for cowslips. You even ventured knee-deep into the sea which although still chill was no longer frigid. And then, before you knew it, you were hauling out your fishing tackle and looking over your flies; inspecting the old dory and calking her seams with a coat of fresh paint. Then came the raking of the leaves, the uncovering of the hollyhocks, and the burning of brush; and through the mists of smoke that rose high in air you could hear the resonant chee-ee of the blackbirds swinging on the reeds along the margin of the creek. And afterward, when summer had really made its appearance, what days of blue and gold followed! Was ever sky so cloudless, grass so vividly green, or ocean so sparkling? Ah, a boy never lacked amusement now! He wriggled into his bathing suit directly after breakfast and was off to the shore to swim, fish, or sail, or do any of the thousand-and-one alluring things that turned up. And things always did turn up in that small horseshoe where the boats made in. It was the club of Lovell's Harbor. Here all the men of the village congregated daily to smoke, swap jokes, and heckle those who worked. "That's no way to mend a net, Eph," one of the spectators would protest. "Where was you fetched up, man? Tote the durn thing over here and I'll show you how they do it off the Horn." Or another member of the audience would call: "Was you reckonin' you'd have enough paint in that keg to finish your yawl, Eddie? Never in the world! What are you so scrimpin' of it for? Slither it on good and thick and let it trickle down into the cracks. 'Twill keep 'em tight." Oh, one learned to curb his temper and bend to the higher criticism if he carried his work down to the beach. He got an abundance of advice whether he asked for it or not and for the most part the counsel was sound and helpful. There you heard also tales of tempests, wrecks, strange ports, and sea serpents,--weird tales that chilled your blood; and sometimes the piping note of an old chanty was raised by one whose sailing days were now only a memory. What marvel that to be a boy at Lovell's Harbor was a boon to be coveted even if along with the distinction went a throng of homely tasks such as shucking clams, cleaning cod, baiting lobster pots, and running errands? No cake is all frosting and no chowder all broth. You had to take the bad along with the good if you lived at Lovell's Harbor. And while you were sandwiching in work and fun what an education you got! Why, it was better than a dozen schools. Not only did you learn to swim like a spaniel, pull a strong oar, hoist a sail, and gain an understanding of winds and tides, but also you came to handle tools with an ease no manual training school could teach you. You made a wooden pin do if you had no nail; and a bit of rope serve if the whittled pin were lacking. Instead of hurrying to a shop to purchase new you patched up the old, and the triumph of doing it afforded a satisfaction very pleasant to experience. Moreover, as a result, you had more pennies in your pocket and more brains in your head. Both Bob and Walter King, as well as most of the other village lads, outranked the town-bred boy in all-round practical skill. They may not have cut such a fine figure at golf or dancing; perhaps they did not excel at Latin or French; but they had at the tips of their tongues numberless useful facts which they had tried out and proven workable and which no city dweller could possibly have gleaned. His Highness might be freckled and towsled and, as his mother affirmed, forgetful and careless, but like a sponge his active young mind had soaked up a deal no books could have given him. You would best beware how you jollied Walter King or put him down for a "Rube." More than likely you would later regret your snap judgment. No doubt it was this realization that had stimulated Jerry Thomas to ask him to come to Surfside, the Crowninshields' big summer estate, and look after the dogs. Jerry was an old resident of Lovell's Harbor, and having watched the boy grow up, he unquestionably knew what he was about. That there were plenty of other boys at the Harbor to choose from was certain. If the honor descended to His Highness rest assured it was not without reason. Hence Jerry was not only pleased but immensely gratified when on the morning following Walter rounded the corner of the great barn and appeared in the doorway. "I've come to say Yes to that job you offered me the other day," announced he, without wasting words on preliminaries. "Good, youngster!" "When shall you want me?" "When can you come?" grinned Jerry. He was a lank, sharp-featured man with china blue eyes that narrowed to a mere slit when he smiled, and from the corners of which crowsfeet, like fan-shaped streaks of light from the rising sun, radiated across his temples. His skin was tanned to the hue of old hickory and deep down in its furrows were lines of white. He had a big nose that was always sunburned, powerful hands with a reddish fuzz on their backs, and gnarled fingers that bore the scars of innumerable nautical disasters. But the chief glory he possessed was a neatly tattooed schooner that sailed under full canvas upon his forearm and bore beneath it the inscription: The Mollie D. The finest ship afloat. The words had been intended as a tribute rather than a challenge for Jerry was a peaceful soul, but unfortunately they had proved provocative of many a brawl, and had the truth been known a certain odd slant of Jerry's chin could have been traced back to this apparently harmless assertion. Possibly had this mate of the _Mollie D._ foreseen into what straits his boast was to lead him he might not have expressed it so baldly in all the naked glory of blue ink; but with the sentiment once immortalized what choice had he but to defend it? Therefore, being no coward but a sturdy seaman with a swinging undercut, he had in times past delivered many a blow in order to uphold the _Mollie D.'s_ nautical reputation, after which encounters his challengers were wont to emerge with a more profound respect not only for the bark but for Jerry Thomas as well. All that, however, was long ago. Since the great storm of 1890 when so many ships had perished and the _Mollie D._, bound from Norfolk to Fairhaven, had gone down with the rest, Jerry had abandoned the sea. It was not the perils of the deep, nevertheless, that had driven him landward, or the fear of future disasters; it was only that since his first love was lost he could not bring himself to ship on any other vessel. Accordingly he took to the shore and for a time a very strange misfit he was there. How he fumed and fidgeted and roamed from one place to another, searching for some spot in which his restless spirit would find peace! And then one day he had wandered into Lovell's Harbor and there he had stayed ever since. For several seasons he had taken out sailing parties of summer boarders or piloted amateur fishermen out to the Ledges; but the timidity and lack of sophistication of these city patrons at length so rasped his nerves that he gave up the task and was about to betake himself to pastures new when he fell beneath the eye of Mr. Glenmore Archibald Crowninshield, a New York banker, who had bought the strip of land forming one arm of the bay and was on the point of erecting there a diminutive summer palace. From that instant Jerry's fortune was made. Mr. Crowninshield was a keen student of human nature and was immediately attracted to the sailor with his ambling gait and twinkling blue eyes. Moreover, the New Yorker happened to be in search of just such a man to look out for his interests when he was not at Lovell's Harbor. Hence Jerry was elevated to the post of caretaker and delegated to keep guard over the edifice that was about to be erected. In view of the fact that up to the moment Jerry had been the most care-free mortal alive and had never from day to day been able to remember the whereabouts of his sou'wester or his rubber boots, his ensuing transformation was nothing short of a miracle. Promptly settling down with doglike fidelity he began mildly to urge on the lagging carpenters; but presently, magnificent in his wrath, he rose above them, whiplash in hand, and drove them forward. His watery blue eyes followed every stick of timber, every foot of piping, every nail that was placed. There was no escaping his watchfulness. If corners were not true or moldings did not meet he saw and called attention to it. Many a time a slipshod workman was ready to throw him over the cliff into the sea and perhaps might have done so had he not been conscious of the justice of the criticism. In consequence the Crowninshield house was built on honor; and when the bills began to come in and showed a marked falling off in magnitude the owner of the mansion could not but express gratitude. Jerry, however, did not covet thanks. Instead he tagged along at his employer's heels, proudly calling notice first to one skillful bit of work and then to another. The house and all that concerned it became his hobby. It was to him what the _Mollie D._ had been, the primary interest of his life. He knew every inch of plumbing; where every shut-off, valve, ventilator, and stopcock was located. Moreover, he could have told, had not his jaws been clamped together tightly as a scallop shell, exactly how much every article in the mansion cost. Later he superintended the grading of the lawns, the laying out of tennis courts, and the building of garages, boathouses, and bathhouses. By this time Mr. Crowninshield would willingly have trusted him with every farthing he possessed so complete was his confidence in his man Friday. Jerry, however, was modest. He declared he had only done his duty and insisted that it go at that. But having set this high standard of fidelity for himself it followed that he demanded a like faithfulness in others; and if he were not merciful to those who came under his dictatorship at least no one of them could deny that he was just. Hence Walter King did not shrink from the prospect of working with him, stern though he was reputed to be. One can only do one's best and that the boy was determined to do. Therefore he smiled up into Jerry's misty blue eyes and answered: "I could begin work when school closes toward the end of June." "Humph! I wish you could make it earlier. Well, we must put up with that since it is the best you can do. Goodness knows I'd be the last one to discourage learning in the young. I got all too little of it when I was a shaver. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I'd had my chance. I shipped to sea when I was only twelve--would go--nothing would stop me--and I've been knocking round ever since, picking up here and there what scraps of knowledge I could get. Don't let anything tempt you to sea till you're full-grown, sonny, for you'll live to regret it, sure as my name is Jerry Taylor." Walter flushed guiltily, wondering as he did so whether Jerry's little blue eyes had bored their way into his skull and read there his aspirations. "Nope!" went on the sailor. "Take it from me, seafaring is a man's job. You much better stay ashore and----" he stopped as if at a loss and then smiling broadly added, "play governess to a pack of dogs." "I figure that is about what I'm going to do," replied His Highness with a comic air of resignation. "Well, what's the matter with that?" inquired Jerry sharply. "You'll be getting paid for it, won't you--well paid? And you'll have cozy quarters all to yourself, and three good meals a day. Land alive! Some folks want the earth! Why, when I was your age, I was swung up in a hammock between decks with not an inch of space that I could call my own. If I wanted to stow away anything I hadn't a place to put it where it wasn't common property. As for meals I took what I could get and was thankful that I didn't starve. And here you come along and tilt up your freckled pug nose at a room and board and ten a week. Bah! What's come over this generation anyway?" "I wasn't turning up my nose," Walter ventured to protest. "It turns up anyhow." "Then you need to be careful how you make it go higher," grinned Jerry. "And--and--I had no idea you meant to pay me that much." "What do you think we are up here?" bristled Jerry. "A sweatshop? No siree! We stand for the square deal every time, we do. Only you've got to understand, young one, that it's to be square on both sides. You're to do no shirking; if you do you'll get fired so quick you'll wonder what hit you. But if you do your part you need have no worries. Now think good and plenty before you embark on the cruise." "I have thought." "All right then. We'll haul up anchor and be off the latter part of June." "You'll have to tell me exactly what you want me to do." "Oh, I'll tell you right 'nough," drawled Jerry, with a humorous twist of his lips. "You'll get a chart to sail by. Still, it won't wholly cover your duties. The thing for you to do is to keep your eyes peeled and look alive. Watch out and see where there's a hole an' be in that hole so it won't be empty. That's the best recipe I know for being useful." "I'll try." "If you honestly do that I reckon there'll be no cause for you to worry," observed the caretaker kindly. "Towards the end of June, then, I'll be on the lookout for you. Your quarters will be all ready, shipshape and trim as a liner's cabin." "Where will they be?" inquired Walter. "Want to see 'em?" "I'd like to, yes." "I s'pose you would," nodded Jerry. "You can as well as not; only they ain't fixed up as they'll be later. Look kinder dismal." "Oh, I shan't mind." The big man smiled at the eagerness of the boy's tone. "Likely you ain't never been away from home before, son," said he, as he took a key out of a glass case on the wall of the barn and slipped it into his pocket. "No--that is, not to stay." "Quite some adventure, eh?" The lad shot a bright glance toward him. "Yes." "Well, well! Count yourself lucky, youngster, that you've had a good home and a good mother up to now; and bless your stars, too, that since you are going to start branching out you're coming to a place like Surfside rather'n somewhere else." His voice was gentle and his misty eyes mistier than ever. Striding ahead he crossed the lawn, unlocked a low building, and mounting the stairs, stopped before a door in the hall above. With a turn of the key it swung open, disclosing a small sheathed room containing a white iron bed, bureau, table, chairs, and bookshelves. "Think this will suit your Highness?" grinned he. "It's--it's corking!" stammered Walter, almost too delighted to reply. "'Tain't bad," admitted Jerry, strolling over to one of the windows that faced the sea and looking out. "Mr. Crowninshield makes it a rule never to stow away other folks where he wouldn't be stowed himself. It isn't a bad principle, either. You'll have a couple of the chauffeurs for company." With his thumb he motioned to other rooms flanking the narrow hall. "They may josh you some at first. That's part of starting out in the world. Keep a civil tongue in your head and if you don't mind 'em they'll soon quit. If they don't it's up to you to find the way to get on with 'em. Half of life is learning to shy round the corners of the folks about you. And old Tim, who used to be gardener for Mr. Crowninshield's father and has been in the family 'most half a century, bides here, too. A rare soul, Tim. You'll like him. Everybody does. Simple as a child, he is, and so gentle that it well-nigh breaks his heart to kill a potato bug. You can count on Tim standing your friend no matter what the rest may do, so cheer up." "And the dogs?" "Oh, the kennels, you mean? They're close by where you'll get the full benefit of the pups' barking in the early morning," said Jerry, with a twinkle. "'Twill give you a pleasant feeling to be certain your charges are alive. Most often, though, they do no yammering until about six, and goodness knows all Christians ought to be up at that hour. You'll find the dogs fitted out comfortable as the rest of us. They've a fine enclosure to stay in when they want to be out of doors; a big airy room if it's better to have 'em under cover; steam heat when it's cold; and blankets and brushes without end. Sometimes Lola, the pet of 'em all, sleeps up at the big house; but mostly she's here with the rest. There's too big a caravan of 'em to have the lot live with the family. Besides, the folks like to sleep late in the morning and not be disturbed by the noise of a pack of puppies. Then there's guests here off and on. So take it all in all, the dogs are best by themselves." "But I don't know anything about taking care of dogs," faltered Walter. "I thought you'd had a dog yourself." "So I had once. But he wasn't like any of these. He was just a dog. All you had to do was to chuck him a bone." "Well, you'll have a darn sight more to do for these critters than that," announced Jerry. "But how'll I know----" began the boy, alarmed by the prospect before him. "Oh, you'll get your instructions from the Madam, most likely--get 'em all written down in black and white along with the history of every dog. She'll tell you just what every one of 'em is to eat, and how much; and where they're all to sleep. And if she don't Miss Nancy or Mr. Dick will. You'll get yards and yards of directions before you're through," chuckled Jerry. "You want to listen well to every word you hear too, son, for these dogs ain't like your Towser--or whatever his name was; a crumb of food too much might kill 'em. Or a blast of air." "Scott!" "Oh, there's no use getting panicky at the outset," declared Jerry comfortably. "Follow orders and use your brains; and remember that if you get addled you can always consult Tim. Tim has a world of common sense and a heap of knowledge of odd sorts. And more than that, he's never swept off his feet by the cost of things. Having been brought up in the company of Rolls-Royce cars, and diamond rings, and thousand-dollar dogs they don't move him an inch. He just treats 'em same's he would anything else and often it's the best plan. Instead of losing his head, and standing wringing his hands 'cause the prize roses have got bugs on 'em he sets to work and kills the bugs; sprays the plants same's he would ordinary bushes, and they go to growing again like any other civilized flowers. An orchid ain't no more to him than a buttercup. He's too used to 'em. He's used to dogs as well, and with the shifting fashions he's seen during his fifty years with the family he's had experience with most every kind of dog that ever was. For there's fashions in dogs, you know, as well as in coats and hats. So turn to Tim when you're in a tight place. He'll help you, never fear." "I hope he will," sighed His Highness ruefully. "I shall need him." "Nonsense! Why, Mr. Dick has often cared for the pups when there was no one else; and certainly you ought to have as many brains as he." "Tell me about him." "Richard? You've seen him round town lots of times--you must have. At the village and other places." "Oh, of course I've seen him," agreed Walter quickly. "In the summer he drives past our house almost every day in his car. But I don't know him any." "You will now," asserted Jerry. "He's a great chap, Mr. Dick is! About your age, too, I guess. Quite a mechanic and always tinkering with tools and machinery. If there's anything wrong with the motor boat he can usually fix her up all right. As for mending a car, he beats all the chauffeurs out. They know it and have to say so. Likely you've seen him fluking through the main street in his racer. She's a trim little thing and could go like the wind if his Pa hadn't forbidden letting out the engine. I reckon Mr. Crowninshield is afraid he'll either kill himself or somebody else, and I will own the thing ain't no proper toy for a lad his age. Still, city folks ain't content with what would please you or me. They must have the biggest, the fastest, the most expensive article there is or 'tain't good for nothin'. The mere knowin' it's the biggest, fastest, and cost the most seems to make 'em happy somehow. Funny, ain't it?" His Highness did not reply. He was thinking. "And Miss Nancy?" interrogated he presently. "Ha! There's a girl for you!" ejaculated Jerry with enthusiasm. "She'll be either seventeen or eighteen come June. Swims like a fish. In fact, I ain't sure she couldn't outdistance some of 'em. And such an oar as she pulls! It's strong and steady as any man's. Besides that, she can beat the crowd at tennis, golf, and those other fool games such folks play. Has a runabout of her own, too, and drives it neat as a pin." "She's better at sports than Mr. Dick, then." "Oh, she can wipe the ground up with him," sniffed Jerry. "She can swim overhand to the raft and get back almost before her brother has started. By Guy! I never saw a woman swim as she does! Dick gets kinder peeved with her sometimes when she jollies him. But let her car play a prank and he has her, for she's no more idea what to do with an engine than the man in the moon. She treats brother Richard with proper respect then, I can tell you." Walter smiled. "And Mrs. Crowninshield?" "She? She's all right! You'll like her and she'll like you--that is, if you get on with the pups. Dogs are her hobby. What she don't know about raisin' 'em ain't worth knowin'. But I just warn you not to think that because she's so pleasant she's easy goin', 'cause she ain't. Slip up on your job and she'll be down on you like a thousand of brick. She's a fair-weather sailin' craft--that's what she is; floats along nice as anything until something goes wrong and then--my soul--but she kicks up a sea. Yet with all that you'll like her. We all do. Almost everybody on the place would get down and let her walk on 'em. She has a kind of way with her that makes you itch to please her. Tim would let her cut his head clean off if she wanted to and I ain't sure I wouldn't. Have a smart sore throat once and see the things she'll do for you. And she'll do 'em herself, too--not set other people on the job. I believe that woman has the biggest heart in the world." "And--and--Mr. Crowninshield?" ventured Walter. "The boss?" Jerry cleared his throat and for the first time hesitated. "You've got to understand the boss, my son," said he earnestly. "He ain't like other men. And in order that you may, I better give you a pointer or two for it will most probably save you trouble. The boss is something like a big dog that barks fit to murder you and don't mean a thing by it. You've seen the kind. To hear him go on when he's roused you'd believe he was going to have your blood. My, how he does orate!" Jerry smiled and shook his head indulgently. "I've seen the men stand up before him with their knees shaking until you'd expect 'em to give way every second. And the master would rage and rage because they'd done something he didn't want done. And then, like a hurricane that's blown itself out, he'll calm down and the next you know he's given you a smile that's made you forget all the rest of it. That's him all over. Learn not to be afraid of him, that's the only thing to do. He wouldn't hurt a fly really. He just gets to blusterin' and tearin' round from force of habit. It don't mean nothin'--not a thing in the world. And with all his money he ain't a mite cocky. To see him you'd scarce dream he had a copper in his pocket. Yet he could paper the house with thousand-dollar bills was he so minded. There's no end to his money, seems to me. Just the same, you don't want to go wastin' it for him on that account. Remember you ain't got the right to, not havin' earned it. If he chooses to splash it round that's his hunt. He made it. But it ain't yours or mine to slosh away. Jot that down in your log. It may help you later." Jerry paused. "You deal square and honorable with the boss, standing up to what you've done like you was a trooper at your gun, and he'll deal square and honorable with you. But go to hoodwinking and imposing on him and instead of a lamb you'll find you've got a rattlesnake at your heels. Now you have an idea, I guess, what you're going to be up against here," concluded the caretaker, taking out his pipe and cramming it with tobacco. "If there's anything else you want to know now's your chance, for after to-day I am never going to open my lips again about any of the Crowninshield family. You'll be one of the employees and your job will be to hold your tongue on them and their affairs, and be loyal to 'em. Their bread will be feeding you and 'twill be only decent. After you once have got your place the keeping of it will rest with you. That's fair, ain't it?" Walter nodded. Yet he turned slowly toward home, depressed by a throng of misgivings. Suppose he was not able to hold the job at Surfside once it was his? What then? CHAPTER III WHAT WORRIED MRS. KING By the middle of May Lovell's Harbor had fully awakened from its winter's sleep. Freshly painted dories were slipped into the water; newly rigged yawls and knockabouts were anchored in the bay; the float was equipped with renovated bumpers, and a general air of anticipation pervaded the community. Yes, hot weather was really on the way. Already the summer cottages were being opened, aired, and put in order, and even some of the houses had gayly figured hangings at the windows and a film of smoke could be seen issuing from the chimneys. At Surfside workmen bustled about, hurrying across the lawn with boards, paint pots, and hammers. Tim Cavenough and his little host of helpers scurried to uncover the flower beds, and from morning to night trudged back and forth from the greenhouses bearing shallow boxes of seedlings which they transplanted to the gardens. Shutters were removed and stored away, piazza chairs brought out, awnings put up, and lawns and tennis courts rolled and cut. As far as one could see a spangled expanse of ocean dazzled the eye and the tiny salt creeks that meandered across the meadows were like winding ribbons of blue. Certainly it was no weather to be shut up in school and boys and girls went hither with reluctant feet, checking off the days on their fingers and even counting the hours that must drag by before they would be free to roam at will amid this panorama of beauty. To Walter King it seemed as if the closing period of his captivity would never be at an end. He studied rebelliously, and with only a half--nay, rather a quarter--of his mind on his lessons. All his thought was centered around Surfside and the novel experiences that beckoned him there. So impatient was he to begin his new duties that he found it impossible to settle down to anything. "You'll be failing in your last examinations, Walter, if you don't watch what you're doing," cautioned his mother. "And should you do that, little profit would it be that you are hired out to Mr. Crowninshield for the summer. In the fall you'd have to stay behind your class, and think of the disgrace of that! Why, I'd be ready to hide my head with shame! Money or no money, you must buck up and put the Crowninshields and their doings out of your head. To lose a year now would mean just that much longer before you could graduate and take a regular job. I almost wish Jerry Thomas had never asked you to come up there, I do indeed." "Oh, don't go getting all fussed up, Ma," returned His Highness, irritated because he recognized the truth of his mother's words. "I'm going to buckle down until the term is over, honest I am. It is hard, though, with the weather so fine. It seems as if I must be out. It's like being on a leash." "You're thinking of those dogs again!" The lad flushed sheepishly. "No, I wasn't." "But you were--whether you realized it or not. It is all you talk of nowadays--_dogs_! What it will be after they get here and you're up at Surfside living with them I don't know. Whatever else you do, though, you must not fail in your lessons and at the last moment spoil your whole year's record. School is your first duty now and you have no moral right to put anything else in its place." "I know it, Ma," Walter agreed. "Of course you know it," was the tart response. "Just see that you do not forget it, that's all." With this final admonition Mrs. King whisked about and taking up her cake of Sapolio and pail of steaming water ascended the stairs. Like the rest of Lovell's Harbor she was busy as a bee in clovertime. She had rented all her rooms and had so many things to do in preparation for her expected guests that she had not a second to waste. After she had gone Walter loitered in the kitchen, whistling absently and at the same time winding a piece of string aimlessly over his fingers. His mother's words had stirred a vague, uncomfortable possibility in his mind. What if he were to fail in those final exams? It would be terrible. Such a disaster did not seem real. It couldn't happen--actually happen--to him. It would be too awful. Nevertheless, try as he would to banish them, visions of Surfside with its myriad fascinations would dance in his head. He had never been away from home for more than a night before and to take up residence elsewhere for an entire season was in itself a novelty. Then there were the tennis courts, the golf links, the automobiles, motor boats, and the yacht! Why, it would be like fairyland! The next instant, however, his spirits drooped. It was absurd to imagine for a moment that he was to have any part in those magic amusements. He was not going to Surfside for recreation but for work. Notwithstanding that fact, though, it was beyond his power to forget that all these many activities would be going on about him and there was the chance, the bare chance, that an occasion might arise when he would be invited to participate in some of them. Fancy spinning over the sandy roads of the Cape in that wonderful racing car! Or sailing the blue waters of the harbor in one of those snowy motor boats! As for the yacht, with its trimmings of glistening brass and spotless decks, had he not dreamed of going aboard it ever since the day it had first steamed into the bay two summers ago? People said there was every imaginable contrivance aboard: ice-making machines, electric lights, and electric piano, goodness only knew what! Simply to see such things would be wonderful. And if it ever should come about (of course it never would and it was absurd to picture it--ridiculous) but if it ever _did_ that he should go sailing out of the bay on that mystic craft what a miracle that would be! With such visions floating through his mind what marvel that it was well-nigh out of the question for Walter King to focus his attention on algebra, Latin, history, and physics. X + Y seemed of very little consequence, and as for the Punic Wars they were so far away as to be hazy beyond any reality at all. Possibly, although she was quite unconscious of it, some of the fault was his mother's for she kept the topic of his departure to the Crowninshields' ever before him. "I have your new shirts almost finished, son," she would assert with satisfaction, "and they're as neat and well made as any New York tailor could make them, if I do say it; and you've three pairs of khaki trousers besides your old woolen ones and corduroys. With your Sunday suit of blue serge and those fresh ties and cap you'll have nothing to be ashamed of. Then you've those denim overalls, and your slicker, and Bob's outgrown pea-coat. I can't see but what you have everything you can possibly need. Do be watchful of your shoes and use them carefully, won't you, for they cost a mint of money? And remember whenever you can to work in your old duds and save your others. You can just as well as not if you only think of it. Your washing you'll bring home and don't forget that I want you to keep neat and clean. Rich folks notice those things a lot. So scrub your hands and neck and clean your nails, even if I'm not there to tell you to. Just because you are going to traipse round with the dogs is no excuse for looking like 'em," concluded she. "I'll remember, Ma," returned His Highness patiently. "And if you eat with the chauffeurs and a pack of men, don't go stuffing yourself with food until you're sick. There's a time to stop, you know. Don't wait until you've got past it and are so crammed that you can't swallow another mouthful." "I won't, Ma," was the meek response. "Brush your teeth faithfully, too. I've spent too much money on them to have them go to waste now." "Yes," came wearily from Walter. "Of course there's no call for me to talk to a person your age about smoking," continued his mother. "When you've got your full growth and can earn money enough to pay for such foolishness you've a right to indulge in it if you see fit; but until then don't start a habit that will do you no good and may make a pigmy of you for life." "I promise you right now, Ma, that I----" "No, don't promise. A promise is a sacred thing and one that it is a sacrilege to break. Never make a promise lightly. But just remember, laddie, that I'd far rather you didn't smoke for a few years yet. But should you feel you must why come and tell me, that's all." "I will, Ma," answered the boy soberly. Somehow going away from home suddenly seemed a very solemn business. "I guess that's the end of my cautions," smiled Mrs. King, "the end, except to say that I hope you won't like Surfside so well that you'll forget to come home now and then and tell me how you are making out. Of course I'll have my boarders and work same's you; still, there'll be times when we won't be busy and can see each other," her voice trembled a little. "Nobody will be more anxious to hear of your doings than I--remember that. I shall miss you, sonny. It's the first time you've been away from me and I can't but feel it's a sort of milestone. You'll be getting grown up and leaving home for good now before I know it, same as Bob has." Her eyes glistened and for an instant she turned her head aside. "Oh, I shan't be branching out to make my fortune yet, Mother," protested Walter gayly. "I don't know enough. I'm not clever like Bob--you said so yourself only the other day." "You're clever as is good for you," was the ambiguous retort. "I'm glad you're no different." "Think of the money I'd be handing in if I could only earn as much as Bob." "The money? Aye, there's no denying it would be a help. However, with what you and Bob and I are going to earn this summer we should make out very well, even if your Uncle Mark Miller has left us in the lurch and your Uncle Henry King's investments have gone bad on us. I'll be turning a tidy penny with my boarders, thanks to you. And for a lad your age ten dollars a week is not to be sneezed at. Why, we'll have quite a little fortune between us!" He saw her face brighten. "Now if Bob could only be near at hand like you I believe I should be entirely happy," she sighed. "I hate to think of him way out there on that spit of sand with the sea booming all around him and nothing for company but the other fellow, who's asleep whenever he's awake, and that clicking wireless instrument. Imagine the loneliness of it! The solitude would drive me crazy inside a week--I know it would." "Bob doesn't mind." "He's not the lad to say so if he did," replied the mother grimly. "Nobody'd be any the wiser for what Bob thinks. Often at night I fall to wondering what he'd do was he to be taken sick." "Oh, he'd be all right, Mother," answered His Highness cheerfully. "O'Connel is there, you know." "And what kind of a nurse would he be, do you think, with his ear to that switchboard from daylight until dark?" "Not quite that. Mother." "Well, almost that, anyhow. It is all well enough for you to say so jauntily that Bob doesn't mind being off there with the wind howling round him and nothing to do but listen to it." "Nothing to do!" repeated Walter. "Why, Ma, he's busy all the time." "Tinkering with those wires, you mean?" was the indignant question. "Yes, I grant he has plenty of that, especially in bad weather. But I mean pleasures----" "Moving pictures, church sociables, strawberry festivals," interrupted the lad mischievously. "Yes, I do," maintained Mrs. King stoutly. "Folks must have something to brighten up their lives. Bob doesn't have a thing." "He often has days that are lively enough, according to his stories." "When there's wrecks, you mean?" She shook her head gravely. "It isn't those that I'm talking about. It's sitting day after day and listening to the meaningless taps and buzzings that come whining through that instrument." "They're not meaningless to him." "No-o, I suppose not," sighed the woman. For a moment she paused only to resume her complaints. "Then there's the responsibility of it. I never did like to think of that. Should he tap once too much or too little when sending one of those dot and dash messages, think what it might mean! And suppose he heard a dot too much and didn't get the thing the other fellow was trying to tell him straight?" "But he has been trained so he does not make mistakes." "All human clay makes mistakes," was the tragic answer, "although I will say Bob makes fewer than most. And then the thunder storms--I'm always worried about those." "Yes, I'll confess there is some danger from lightning," owned Walter unwillingly. "And of course there is danger from the current at all times if one is not careful. Even then accidents sometimes happen. However, Bob explained once that accidental shocks seldom result fatally unless the person is left too long without help. The man in charge of the radio outfit would almost never get the full force of the current, because part of it would be carried off through the wires and ground. Such accidents are mainly due to the temporary and faulty contact of the conductors." "I can't help what they're due to," sniffed Mrs. King. "The point is that Bob might get knocked out and die." "Nonsense, Mother. You would not worry if you understood more about it. Besides, should a man get a shock, if you go promptly to work over him and keep at it long enough, you can almost always bring him back to consciousness. They do just about the same things to restore him that they do for a person that's been drowned. The aim is to make him breathe. If you can get him to, he will probably live. Of course, though, you have to break the circuit first." "The circuit?" "Stop the current that is going through his body," explained Walter. "But how can you?" "Bob told me how. He saw a chap knocked out once and helped fix him up. You had to be awfully careful about moving him away from the apparatus, Bob said, or you might get a shock yourself. They took a dry stick because it was a nonconductor of electricity, you know, and rolled the man over to one side, so he was out of reach of the wires. Had you covered your hands with dry cloth you could have moved him, too; rubber gloves are best but Bob did not happen to have any handy at the minute. So they poked the fellow out of the way with the stick, turned him over on his back, loosened his collar and clothing, and went to work on him. You know how they always roll up a coat or something and stuff it under drowned persons' shoulders to throw their head backward? Well, they did that; and afterward they began to move his arms up and down to make him breathe. The idea is to depress and expand the chest. We learned it in our 'first aid' class. Of course there are lots of things you have to do besides, and if you can get a doctor he will know of others that are better still. But Bob said the chief point was not to get discouraged and give up. Sometimes people die just because the folks fussing over them do not keep at it long enough. They get tired and when they see no results they decide it is no use and stop trying. You ought to work an hour anyhow, repeating the exercises at the rate of sixteen times a minute, Bob said. Then, if the poor chap does not come to, you can at least feel you have done all you can." "Ugh! It makes me shiver to think of it!" "You didn't shiver when Minnie Carlton fell off the float and almost got drowned," remarked Walter significantly. "I had too much to think of," was Mrs. King's laconic reply. "It was the fussing you did over her that saved her life." "They said so." "You know it was." "Mebbe it was," admitted his mother modestly. "But it wasn't any credit to me. I've always lived near the water and I feel at home with drowned people." "These electric accidents are much the same--easier, if anything, because the lungs are not filled with water." "I hadn't thought of that." "This is just a straight case of making a man breathe. You did that for Minnie." "I contrived to, yes." "Well, this stunt is the same. Bob said if you once got that through your head and kept in mind what you were driving at instead of flying off the handle you would get on all right." "Perhaps he's right. He generally is," sighed Mrs. King. "Still it is a worrisome business having him tinkering with those wires all the time. I am thankful you are not doing it. I'd rather you tended dogs." "But you've forgotten what they're worth," put in His Highness. "So I had. Oh, dear! I don't see but what I've got to worry about both of you." "Pooh, Ma! Don't be foolish. Think of the money we'll have by fall, the three of us. Why, we'll be rich!" "Not rich, with that last payment on the mortgage looming ahead." "But it _is_ the last--think of that! We won't ever have another to make." A radiant smile flitted over Mrs. King's face but a moment later it was eclipsed by a cloud. "There'll be other things to pay; there always are," fretted she. "Oh, shucks, Ma! Why borrow trouble? It's always hanging round wanting to be borrowed. Why gratify it?" "I know. It is a foolish habit, isn't it? Still, it was always my way to be prepared for the worst. I've done it all my life." "Then why not whiffle round now and just for a change be prepared for the best?" In spite of herself his mother laughed. "I expect that if I was as young as you and as happy-go-lucky I'd never worry," she answered not unkindly. "But since I'm made with a worrying disposition and bound to worry anyhow, at least I've got something perfectly legitimate to worry about this summer, and you can't deny it. With one son liable to be electrocuted by wireless and the other likely to be run into jail for losing a million-dollar dog I shall have plenty to occupy my mind, not to mention all those boarders that are coming." "Now, Ma, you know you are actually looking forward to the boarders," Walter declared. "Already you are simply itching to see them and find out what they are like." "And if I am, what then?" admitted his mother flushing that she should have been read so accurately. "Seeing them isn't all there is to it by a good sight. There is feeding them, and to keep them filled up in this bracing climate is no small matter." "Did you ever know any one to go hungry in this house?" "Well, no; I can't say I ever did." "Do you imagine boarders will eat more than Bob or I?" "Mercy on us! I hope not." "Well, you always gave us enough to eat. I guess if you contrived to do that you needn't worry about your boarders," chuckled His Highness. CHAPTER IV WALTER MAKES HIS BOW TO HIS EMPLOYER The last day of June dawned dismal and foggy. A grim gray veil enshrouded Lovell's Harbor, rendering it cold and dreary. Had one been visiting it for the first time he would probably have turned his back on its forlornity and never have come again. The sea was wrapped in a mist so dense that its vast reach of waves was as complete a secret as if they had been actually curtained off from the land. On every leaf trembled beads of moisture and from the eaves of the sodden houses the water dripped with a melancholy trickle. It was wretched weather for the Crowninshields to be coming to Surfside and yet that they were already on the way the jangling telephone attested. "I wouldn't have had 'em put in an appearance a day like this for the world!" fretted Jerry Taylor, who for some unaccountable reason seemed to hold himself responsible for the general dampness and discomfort. "Fog ain't nothin' to us folks who are used to it. We've lived by the ocean long enough to love it no matter how it behaves. But for it to go actin' up this way for strangers is a pity. It gives 'em a bad impression same's a ill-behaved child does." "But you can't help it," ventured Walter, who had just come into sight. "N-o. Still, somehow, I'm always that anxious for the place to look it's prettiest that I feel to blame when it doesn't." The boy nodded sympathetically. Deep down within him lay an inarticulate affection for the hamlet in which he had been born and the great throbbing sea that lapped its shores. He therefore understood Jerry's attitude and shared in it far more than he would, perhaps, have been willing to admit. Nevertheless he merely knocked the drops from his rubber hat, muttered that it was a rotten day, and loitered awkwardly about, wondering just what to do. At last school was at an end. He had squeaked through the examinations with safety if not with glory, and having wheeled his small trunk up to Surfside on a wheelbarrow and deposited it in his room he speculated as to what to do next. There was plenty he might have done. There was no question about that. He might at the very moment have been unpacking his possessions, hanging his clothes in the closet, and stowing away his undergarments in the chest of drawers provided for the purpose. Moreover, there were books to tuck into place on his bookshelves and other minor duties relative to the settling of his new quarters. Oh, there were a score of things he might have done. His Highness, however, was in much too agitated a frame of mind to turn his attention to such humdrum tasks. Furthermore, since he had pledged himself to bear a hand wherever it was needed, he felt he should be on the spot and within call. And if beneath this worthy motive lurked a certain desire to see whatever there was to be seen, who can say his curiosity was not pardonable? One does not set forth every day to make his fortune. The adventure was very alluring to him who had never tried it. Possibly Jerry Taylor had enough of the boy in him to understand this. However that might be, he did not hurry the lad indoors to unpack even though he sensed full well that precious time was being wasted; instead, as he started across the lawn he called back over his shoulder: "If you've nothing better to do, sonny, than to stand shivering in the barn, come along up to the house with me and help bring up some wood; I'm going to start fires burning in the rooms to cheer the folks up and dry 'em off when they get here. To my mind there ain't nothin' like an open fire to right you if you're out of sorts. And likely they will be out of sorts. Mr. Crowninshield will, that's sure. Now I myself don't mind a gray day off and on. It's sorter restful and calming. But these city people can't see it that way. My eye, no! They begin to groan so you can hear 'em a mile away the minute the sun is clouded over; and by the second day of a good northeaster they are done for. You'd think to listen to 'em that the end of the world had come. No motoring! No golf! No tennis! Why, they might as well be dead. They begin to wonder why they ever came here anyway and talk of nothing but how nice it is in New York. Why, you would split your sides laughing to hear Mr. Crowninshield moan for Wall Street and Fifth Avenue. Three days of fog is his limit. After that ropes couldn't tie him here. He tumbles his traps into a suitcase and off he goes to the city." "Great Scott!" Walter ejaculated. "Oh, 'tain't a bad thing to have him go, take it by and large. He ain't much addition here when he's fidgeting round, poking into everything and suggesting it better be done some other way. He's much better off somewhere else--he's happier and so are we. By and by he comes back again cheerful as if nothing had happened. Mebbe it's as well you should be told what's in store for you in foggy weather," concluded Jerry, with a touch of humor, "for you'll come in for your share together with the rest of us. Everybody gets it. Most likely you'll hear that an egg-beater is a much better thing to smooth down a dog's hair with than a brush; that all the world knows that and only an idiot uses anything else. Don't smile or venture a yip in reply. Just say you'll be glad to use the egg-beater if he prefers it. Remark that, in fact, you quite hanker to try the egg-beater. To agree with him always takes the wind out of his sails quicker'n anything else. He'll calm down soon as he sees you aren't ruffled and go off and hunt up somebody else to reform. And when the fog blows out to sea his temper will go with it and he will forget he ever suggested an egg-beater. Oh, we understand the boss. He's all right! If you only know how to take him you'll never have a mite of trouble with him." By this time they had reached the house and having removed rubbers and dripping coats they entered the basement door and proceeded to the cellar. It was not the sort of cellar with which His Highness was familiar although his mother's cellar was clean, as cellars go. This one was immaculate. Indeed it seemed, on glancing about, that one might have done far worse than live in the Crowninshields' cellar. Every inch of the interior was light, dry, and spotless with whitewash, paint, and tiling. Even the coal that filled the bins had taken on a borrowed glory and shone as if polished. "This is my kingdom!" announced Jerry proudly. "You could eat off the floor were you so minded." "I should say you could!" "When once you've set out it's no more work to keep things shipshape than to let 'em go helter-skelter. Now here's a basket. Load into it as many of those birch logs as you can carry and bring 'em upstairs. I've kindlings there already." While Walter was obeying these instructions Jerry himself was piling up on his lank arm a pyramid of wood, and together the two ascended the stairway and tiptoed through the kitchen. As they went the boy caught a glimpse of gleaming porcelain walls; ebon-hued stoves resplendent with nickel trimmings; a blue and white tiled floor; and smart little window hangings that matched it. "They don't cook here!" he gasped. "Everything in the house is electric," explained Jerry, as if he were conducting a sight-seeing party through the Louvre. "All the baking, washing, ironing, bread-making, and cleaning is done by electricity. There's even an electric sewing-machine to sew with, and an electric breeze to keep you cool while you're doing it. If I hadn't seen the thing with my own eyes I'd never have believed it." He paused to watch the effect of his words. "'Tain't much like the way you and me are used to," he grinned. "No." "I suppose in time you get so nothing knocks the breath out of you. I'm just coming to looking round here without feeling all of a flutter. The place did used to turn me endwise at first, it was so white and awesome. I actually hated to set foot within its walls. Seems 's if my fingers was always all thumbs every time I come inside the room. Still, I had to come in though; there were things I had to do here. So I schooled myself to forget the whiteness, and the blueness, and all the silvery glisten and call it just a kitchen. Besides, I found that grand as it is, it ain't a patch on some of the other things in the house. My eye! It's like the Arabian Nights!" The Cape Codder stopped quite speechless from retailing these marvels. "Yes," he went on presently, "they've got almost everything the electric market has to offer. Last year, though, Mr. Dick got a hankerin' for a wireless set. It appears that you can buy an outfit that will make you hear concerts, sermons, speeches, and about everything that's going on; at least that's what Mr. Crowninshield undertook to tell me, though whether he was fooling or not I couldn't quite make out. Still, it may be true. After what I've seen in this house I'm ready to believe about anything. Was he to say you could put your eye to a hole in the wall and see the Chinese eating rice in Hongkong it wouldn't astonish me." Walter laughed. "You _can_ hear music and such things. My brother, who is a wireless operator, told me so. They broadcast all sorts of entertainments--songs, band-playing, sermons, and stories so that those who have amateur apparatus can listen in." "Broadcast? Listen in?" repeated Jerry vaguely. "Broadcasting means sending out stuff of a specified wave length from a central station so that amateurs with a range of from two hundred to three hundred meters can pick it up." Jerry halted midway in the passage. "Do you mean to say," inquired he, "that a person can sling a song off the top of a wire into the air and tell it to stop when it's gone two hundred meters?" "Something like that," chuckled Walter, amused. "I don't believe it!" declared Jerry bluntly. "But it can be done; really it can." "No doubt you think you are speaking the truth, youngster," returned the skeptic mildly. "Somebody's stuffed you, though. Such a thing couldn't be, any way in the world." As if that were the end of the matter Jerry opened a door confronting him and stepped into the great hall, the splendor of which instantly blotted every other thought from Walter King's mind. Not only was the interior spacious and imposing but it was bewilderingly beautiful and contained marvel after marvel that the lad longed to examine. The large tiger-skin rugs that covered the floor piqued his interest, so did the chiming clock, and a fountain that welled up and splashed into a marble pool filled with goldfish. Why, he could have entertained himself for an hour with this latter wonder alone! There was, however, no leisure for loitering for on hearing the cadence of the chimes Jerry ejaculated in consternation: "Eleven o'clock already! Land alive! We'll have to get the fires blazing lively. Why, the folks may be here any minute now. Here, hand me one of those long sticks you've got, sonny; or rather--wait! You know how to lay a fire, don't you?" "I reckon I've done such a thing once or twice in my lifetime," was the dry response. "Then go ahead. You build this fire while I go upstairs and start the others," said Jerry. "After you've got this one going you can make one in the library, that red room through those curtains." "All right." "Step lively! Don't take all day about it." With awkward gesture Jerry swooped up some of the logs with his long arm and disappeared into the hall above. As for Walter, he had built too many fires in his mother's kitchen stove and started too many blazes of driftwood on the beach to be at a loss as to how to proceed. Almost in a twinkling scarlet flames were roaring up the wide-throated chimneys and he had placed fenders before them to keep in captivity any straying sparks. While he looked about for a spot in which to deposit the remaining birch sticks there was a sound of horns, a crunching of gravel, and Jerry's scurrying feet came pattering down the stairs. "It's the folks!" he announced excitedly. "We warn't a minute too soon. Tuck those logs into the brass box; pick up your cap, laddie, and light out of here quick." The order, alas, came too late. His Highness had only time enough to hurry the birch wood into the box and bang down the cover before flying footsteps filled the house, maids appeared from every door, and there was a blast of wind, a babel of voices, and the discomfited boy found himself face to face with his employers. His first impression of Mr. Crowninshield, muffled to the chin in a heavy motor coat, was of a large, red-cheeked man who, although he moved with little apparent stir, nevertheless in an incredibly short interval had shaken hands with most of the servants, directed where each piece of luggage was to be put, commented on a new lock on the front door, and noticed that the clock was two minutes slow. His moving eye had also been caught by the roses on the table and he turned to ask from which garden they came. "All this he did, Ma," explained Walter to his mother afterward, "before you could say Jack Robinson. And in between he was scolding all the time about the weather and saying how idiotic it was to leave a warm, comfortable city like New York and come to a damp hole like the Cape." "Is this the best day you could manage to get together, Jerry?" growled he. "Pretty beastly, I call it." "It certainly is wet, sir." "Wet! I should say it was! It's infernally wet! How long is it going to keep up like this?" "I can't say, sir." "Well, you have the sun out to-morrow or I shall go straight back where I came from. Little old New York is good enough for me when the place looks like this." At that instant he espied His Highness lurking near a distant window. "Who are you, young man?" he called. "Walter King, sir." "Oh, the young chap who is going to look after the dogs?" "Yes, sir." "Humph! Like dogs?" "I--yes, sir," answered the lad at a warning glance from Jerry. Ruthlessly the hawklike eyes devoured him. "So you think you can take care of a lot of prize pups, do you?" "I am going to try," was the modest reply. "You can't stop with trying, my son. You've got to do it," announced the man sharply. "I shall do my best." "That is all I shall ask." A sudden smile melted the stern countenance into geniality and the master held out a hand. "So King is your name." "Yes, sir." "It is a royal one and gives you something to live up to." As the boy did not know what to answer he was silent. "And you like dogs?" said the inquisitor more kindly. "I like all animals," returned Walter evasively, "and I am sure I shall like your dogs because you always like anything you take care of." "So you do! I remember when I was about your age I tamed an old brown weasel. He was a wretch of a creature with scarcely a virtue--cruel, deceitful, cold-blooded; and yet I grew to love that brute as much as if he had had the gentleness of a dove. You know how it is." Walter nodded. For the moment the two came together on a plane of real contact and sympathy, and the smile the elder gave him bound the lad to his new employer as no spoken words could possibly have done. But a second later Mr. Crowninshield's mood had changed and he was storming at Mary, the waitress, and demanding whether she meant to freeze them all by leaving the outside door open. Walter could see the girl flush red and as he leaped forward to close the door she flashed him a grateful, tremulous smile. Then Mr. Crowninshield turned toward his wife. "Mollie," he replied, "this is Walter King who is going to look after your dogs. Come and speak to him." The mistress of the house came. She was wearing a long blue traveling coat and a jaunty little hat against which the gold of her hair was resplendent as sunshine. Tucked under her arm was a wee dog with soft brown fur and sharp little eyes. Mrs. Crowninshield was very pretty, especially when she spoke. As Walter looked into her face he found it so amazingly youthful that it was difficult for him to believe she was actually the mother of a grown son and daughter. "So it is you who are to be master of the kennels?" smiled she, showing her even white teeth. "Yes, Mrs. Crowninshield," faltered His Highness, a trifle overcome by this new title. From head to foot her glance swept over him. "Well," said she at length, "if you keep the puppies as tidy as you keep yourself I fancy we shall get on nicely together." A flood of color mounted to the lad's forehead. He had not anticipated such close inspection and instinctively he began to fumble with the corner of his sweater and look nervously down at his hands. They must be very dirty from making the fires. And he had been actually greeting Mr. and Mrs. Crowninshield with paws like those! The horror of it chilled his blood. Apparently the woman, with swift intuition, read his thought for she dimpled at him in friendly fashion. "Do not worry about your hands, my boy," said she. "You have been doing useful things to soil them, things to bid us welcome and make us more comfortable. I can see you started out clean. I have a boy of my own, you know. Richard," she went on, turning to a tall youth who was bending over the luggage, "this is Walter King who is coming to look after the kennels. He must be about your age." The boys stared at each other awkwardly. "I am fifteen," announced Walter for the lack of something more brilliant to say. "I beat you by a year," was the shy retort of the other boy. "I am sixteen." Then Nancy interrupted them with her breezy comment. "Fifteen, are you?" she put in. "My, I should not have thought it! You must be pretty crazy about dogs to give up all your summer vacation to them." "My mother needs the money," was the simple answer. "Oh!" He saw her blush as if regretting her thoughtless remark. "It is nice of you to help your mother," she observed quickly. "I am sure you will not find the place so bad. We shall try to make you happy." With that she was gone but she left behind her a memory of sweetness and appealing kindliness. "You might run out to the garage now, sonny," declared Jerry with a desire to help the lad make his escape. "They will be landing the pups there soon, and you may as well be on hand." Only too glad to beat a retreat His Highness picked up his cap and slipping from the room raced across the lawn in the direction of his own quarters. CHAPTER V THE CONQUEST OF ACHILLES Jerry's prediction proved to be quite true for as His Highness neared the garage a hum of activity pervaded it. Four mud-caked cars stood in the driveway and chauffeurs in their shirt sleeves hurried in and out the building, shouting to one another and carrying in their hands grimy rags and cans of oil. A short half hour had transformed the quiet spot to a beehive of noise and bustle. The rush seemed contagious for wherever one looked moving figures could be seen. Some crossed the lawn bearing belated satchels or traveling wraps which in the confusion had found their way into the wrong place; some strode toward the boathouse, some toward the garden, some to the stables. Men appeared to have risen through the earth so quickly had their numbers multiplied. No longer was there the leisurely loitering and smoking that had marked the week before. A spirit of activity was infused into the air until even those who had no cause to hurry scrambled with the rest. As Walter approached the garage he was waylaid by a young chauffeur with rosy cheeks and a crisp, pleasant voice: "Say, youngster, don't you want to lend a hand with these cushions?" interrogated he, beaming ingratiatingly. "They have got to be beaten and brushed before they can go back in the car. Chuck them over on the floor for me, won't you?" "Sure!" was the ready answer. "I'll beat them for you if you like." "You're a good-natured little cuss," grinned the man. "I'm not asking you to do that, though." "But I'd be glad to." "Suit yourself. But in my opinion you are a fool to take on jobs you are not hired to do and get no money for." "Oh, I don't care about the money." "You don't, eh?" chimed in the derisive note of another chauffeur who had at the instant come out of the doorway. "Say, who are you, anyway? One of the Vanderbilts?" "Quit heckling the young one, Peters," put in the chauffeur of the red cheeks. "He's a good sort, all right." "Ha, ha, Wheeler! You think that because you've jollied him into doing your work for you, you old shirk." "I didn't jolly him into anything. He offered." "A likely story." "But he did." "Then you should have told him better," sniffed the other. "You know well enough it isn't etiquette round here to do a stroke of work for anybody else or accept a stroke. _Every man for himself_ is the motto." "But that's a rotten way!" Walter ejaculated impulsively. "I'd hate to live like that--never being willing to help anybody or ask them to help me." The man called Peters gave him a contemptuous stare. "You'll find there's no whining or asking help of other people here," announced he, with a sneer. "Those that are darn fools enough to get into holes get out of them as best they can. It's their hunt." Spitting emphatically on the ground he proceeded to go into the garage with the tire he was carrying. Walter took up a stick he saw lying near by. "What are you going to do?" demanded the red-cheeked man, regarding him with unconcealed surprise. "Beat the cushions." "But--but--heavens, sonny! Didn't you hear what Peters said?" "Of course I heard. I don't have to sign up to a creed like that, though, if I don't want to, do I?" "We all do. We agree neither to borrow, lend, nor ask favors." "I'm afraid I shan't make one of the gang then," observed Walter, with a smile so good-humored that the words could not offend. "Then the more fool you, that is all I can say," laughed Wheeler. "By the end of a month you won't have so much as a collar button to your name. Everything you own will be gone, especially your tools. We're a lot of pirates. I give you fair warning." "I'm not afraid you'll want much that I've got," grinned Walter. The upraised stick descended in a series of rhythmic blows, sending into the air a cloud of dust. "Where's the brush?" panted the boy, when he had beaten until his arm ached. "Say, kid, I'm not going to have you breaking your back over my job," asserted Wheeler in a friendly tone. "I'm not breaking my back." "But what on earth are you doing it _for_?" questioned the man, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "I don't know myself," returned the lad shyly. "It was just the way I was brought up, I guess." For an interval only the sweeping of the brush broke the stillness. "I was brought up to be decent, too," observed Wheeler slowly, "but somehow since I've been knocking round I've got to be an awful brute. There isn't any very high standard among the crowd I mix in. Still, I'm afraid that isn't much of an excuse for shifting back into a savage." He paused thoughtfully, then added, "I'm much obliged to you, sonny, for your help, and just to show you I don't forget it, sometime when you are hard put hunt me up and ask me to give you a lift. I'm a human being though you may not think so." With a little glow at his heart Walter moved away toward the kennels. He had made a friend, and in this new environment where he was conscious of being very much of an outsider the consciousness brought him a sense of comradeship and happiness. It was fortunate, however, that his altruism had detained him no longer for before he reached the spot where the dogs were to be quartered he heard a chorus of sharp yelps and saw what appeared to be a dozen dogs coming across the lawn accompanied by Mrs. Crowninshield and two of the stablemen. Some of the pack were being led, while others, wild with joy at finding themselves unconfined, leaped and capered wildly about their mistress. A great police dog, straining at the leash, gave Walter a thrill of mingled admiration and timidity. He was a huge creature with mottled coat and mighty jaws, and within his open mouth, from which lolled his red tongue, were cruel white teeth that could do unthinkable things. His wide brown eyes, his pointing tail, his upright ears moving with every sound, his alert poise all bespoke keenness and intelligence. A dog one would far rather have for an ally than an enemy, thought the boy. Beside pranced two Airedales and a white Sealyham and to their babel of barking was added the shrill, sympathetic note of five or six Pekingese, one of which Mrs. Crowninshield carried under her arm. "Hush, Achilles!" she cried. "Hush, all of you! Stop your racket this instant! They are excited at being together again," explained she to Walter who had approached. "The Belgian and Airedales have been boarded out during the winter and have not seen the others for months. So, you see, this is a sort of reunion for them and they have to bark to show their delight. Moreover, they have had a long trip and are tired and hungry. I am going to feed them now and this meal will last most of them until to-morrow at the same hour." "Are they fed only once a day?" gasped Walter. "That is all. You see you will not have many meals to prepare," laughed Mrs. Crowninshield. "Only the Peeks have breakfast, but only part of a square of puppy biscuit or some bread; so it is very simple. Dinner, however, is much more complicated and later I shall give you your directions as to just what every dog must have; to-night we are to treat the lot to some raw meat, toast, and spinach." "You'll let me help you," pleaded Walter. "Certainly. That is why I came out. I want you to feed the dogs and learn their names. In order to get on with them you must get acquainted with them and understand the peculiarities of each one. They are just persons, you know, and have their little whims and queernesses. But kindness will win them to you very quickly. It is far better than a whip. So is feeding. A dog usually obeys the person who feeds him. He is afraid not to." As she spoke she entered the wired enclosure and putting the smaller dogs in half of it and shutting the wicket gate upon them she told the men to slip the leashes from the collars of the others. In a second the Belgian, Airedales, and the fluffy Sealyham were bounding about her. Then she beckoned to Walter. "This is Achilles," went on she, with her hand on the head of the great monster. "He is as gentle and kind as a kitten, although he does look as if he could swallow us alive. Don't touch him but stand still and let him sniff you all over. It is his way of getting acquainted." Obediently the boy remained motionless while the panting jaws and moist black nose of the dog came nearer. He could feel the creature's hot breath on his hands, face, and hair. Then over his clothing moved the quivering nostrils. At length the brown eyes met his and he whispered softly: "Achilles!" The dog wagged his tail. "You have nothing to fear from him now," announced Mrs. Crowninshield. "The Airedales are Jack Horner and Boy Blue. And the Sealyham, Miss Nancy's dog, is called Rags." Sensing that he was being talked about, the dog blinked with friendly eyes at Walter through its mop of coarse white hair. "In the other pen," continued Mrs. Crowninshield, "are the Pekingese pups and I shall expect you to take the best of care of them. They are sensitive little creatures and very valuable. I myself, however, care very little for the money value of a dog. It is the lovable traits it has that interest me. I should adore wee Lola, here, if she were not worth a cent. But Mr. Crowninshield likes to own blue ribbon dogs and enter them at the shows and therefore I will caution you that Lola, Mimi, and Fifi," as she spoke she pointed out the dogs in question, "cost quite a fortune and their loss or illness would be a great calamity. So you must follow the directions concerning them most carefully. And should any question arise about them come at once to me." As she spoke she occasionally glanced at the boy beside her with a quick, bright smile. "I shall have the menu for each dog sent you every day--at least for the present--together with directions as to how to prepare the meal as it should be prepared. The meat for the small dogs must be put through a meat chopper and no gristle allowed to get into it; the larger dogs can have bigger pieces, and Achilles a bone. You will find in the room inside an ice chest in which to keep such foods as spoil. There are also glassed-in shelves where tins of various kinds of dog bread and puppy biscuit will be stored that they may be out of the dampness. You are not to trouble the servants at the big house for anything. They do not like to be interfered with. All your supplies will be here, and you can warm whatever it is necessary to heat on your small electric stove. Be sure to scald out the dishes after they have been used; and also never forget to keep the bowls filled with plenty of fresh water." "I will, ma'am." "I am sure you will," returned Mrs. Crowninshield kindly. "And do not worry if it takes a little time to win all the dogs over to your authority. Dogs are like children when they change masters. They will try to play it on you at first. Just be firm with them and soon you will have them tagging at your heels, docile as lambs." The task of preparing the food was soon completed and the mistress looked on and encouraged while Walter doled it out to the famished animals. How daintily the wee dogs coquetted with what was given them! And how greedily the larger ones gobbled down their allowance and lapped the plate for more! Achilles, crouched on the lawn with his bone, crunched it with terrifying zeal, cracking the big joint between his jaws as if it were made of paper. His dinner devoured he ambled over toward Walter, once more sniffed his shoes and clothing, at last nestled his moist nose against the boy's hand. "I think you have won Achilles to your colors already," said Mrs. Crowninshield. "He does seem friendly," returned His Highness, more pleased by the dog's good will than he would have been willing to own. "Achilles can be very friendly when he chooses," retorted his owner. "He can also be quite the reverse. You should see him sometime when he is on the scent of a foe. Last summer when a man broke into the boathouse it transformed Achilles into a lion. I was certain he would kill the fellow; as it was he mauled him badly before we could coax him off. The thief almost died of fright and I do not wonder. He did not need any further punishment." She unfastened the gate to go back to the house. Immediately there was a rush. "No, you can't come, not one of you," declared she, addressing the yelping pack through the netting. "I have far too much to do to be bothered with any of you. Be good and take a nap. You're tired enough to rest." Still the animals barked, rebellious at their captivity. "When I am out of sight you can let Achilles out," called she, as she moved away. "He can be trusted to roam the place and always does when we're here. The Airedales and the Sealyham can also run about alone as soon as they get used to obeying you. But the little dogs must never be let off the leash unless they are watched every instant, for something might happen to them." "I'll be careful." "That's right; do." The woman gave him a pleasant nod of farewell and walked with springing step back in the direction of the house. As she went Walter saw her halt and speak to old Tim, who was at work in the rose garden, and beheld the gardener leap proudly forward to cut for her a blossom she had evidently admired. It was even as Jerry had said. She was the idol of Surfside. After she had disappeared he opened the wicket and stepped out, letting Achilles follow him. Instantly the great creature put his nose to the ground and with a joyous bark he was gone in search of his mistress. It was now or never with the new master of the hounds. The lad whistled but the dog did not turn. Again he gave a quick call. This time the rushing beast paused, looked round, and then slackening his pace, continued to jog along on his way. Helplessly the boy saw him go farther and farther out of reach. He must compel obedience somehow. "Achilles!" shouted he sternly. "Achilles! Back, sir!" Although he uttered the words he had not the slightest faith they would have any effect and was amazed to see the dog waver in his tracks. "Achilles, come here!" repeated he sharply. With reluctance the dog turned and looked at him. "Here, sir!" called Walter, with coaxing cadence. The dog continued to regard him intently but he did not move. Then suddenly there was a rush and with panting jaws widespread the Belgian came bounding toward him. It was not until he was close at hand that he abated his speed. Then he came to the side of his new master and gently laid his cold nose on his sleeve. Walter patted the great head affectionately. The battle was won. He had conquered Achilles. CHAPTER VI HIS HIGHNESS IN A NEW ROLE Before a week had passed the strangeness of living at Surfside had to a certain extent abated and Walter found himself not only content in his new position but enjoying it. He rose early, feeding the dogs, exercising them, and making fresh their quarters before he breakfasted himself. Afterward, despite the score of odd duties with which the morning was filled, he contrived to do many little kindnesses for Jerry, Tim, Wheeler, and the other men. He was always willing to do a favor and amid an atmosphere where generosity was rare the virtue of aiding others rendered him immensely popular. In the meantime he had made such headway in the affections of Achilles that the big Belgian not only tagged at his heels everywhere he went, but at night insisted upon extending his giant frame before the boy's doorsill from which vantage ground neither threats nor persuasions could stir him. In consequence the lonely hours the lad might have experienced were put to rout by the companionship of this silent comrade. The Airedales, on the other hand, were less successfully won over to a new allegiance. Although Richard, who owned them, took not the smallest care of them and serenely passed them over to some one else to be ministered unto, nevertheless they apparently sensed the arrangement was one of convenience and returned scant gratitude for what was done for them. They were polite, tolerant, but never whole-heartedly cordial. Dick was their master and they would have no other. Fortunately Miss Nancy's Sealyham, Rags, was more responsive; nevertheless, although she frolicked about Walter's feet and accepted food from his hand it was more because she loved to play and was hungry than because her affection for the boy went very deep. As for the troupe of Pekingese, with aristocratic noses tilted high in air, they submitted to being washed, brushed, and fed by Walter much as they would have accepted the services of any other maid or valet. They seemed to be conscious of their pedigree and claim attention as their right. An occasional wag of the tail or the rare passage of a rough little tongue across one's hand was all the gratitude His Highness ever received from them. With the Crowninshield family, however, the boy made better progress and as he and Dick became acquainted many a pleasant hour did they spend together. Not infrequently, when the eager yelps of the dogs heralded the fact that they were off for their afternoon run, the New York lad would join the party and while the animals raced this way and that the two boys would discuss boats, fishing, and kindred interests. [Illustration: The two boys would discuss boats, fishing, and kindred interests. _Page_ 76.] "Do you happen to know anything about wireless?" inquired Richard one day when, with Achilles prancing far ahead and Boy Blue, Jack Horner, and Rags dashing to keep up with him, the group strode along the beach. "I ought to," was Walter's smiling response. "I've a brother who is an operator at the Seaver Bay station." "No! Really?" The exclamations voiced both surprise and admiration. "How old is he?" "Twenty-two or three." "Gee! And he can really send and receive messages?" "He sure can." "How did he learn?" "Oh, he first got interested in wireless through the papers and picked up quite a lot of information that way. Later he and his chum Billy Hicks bought a manual and with the help of the physics teacher at the High School they rigged up a homemade receiving apparatus on Billy's grandfather's barn. For a while it wouldn't work for a cent, although they tinkered with it night and day. Then one evening they did something to it and caught their first message. You should have seen Bob! He was crazy and came rushing straight home to make Ma drop everything she was doing and go down to Hicks's. Now Mother was elbow-deep in bread and declared she couldn't spoil her biscuit for any wireless on earth. Besides, she had never had any faith in the thing. You see, Bob had teased her for wireless money and she had told him time and time again it was dollars thrown into a hole. My father used to joke her about not having a scientific mind and I guess she hasn't one. At any rate, whenever Bob would read her the wonderful things being done with wireless, all she would say was that it wasn't likely folks could send speeches and music loose through the air. Those who pretended to hear them were either fibbing or were genuinely mistaken. So when Bob did get a broadcast you can imagine how wild he was to convince her it wasn't all bluff." "And did he?" asked Dick with interest. "Well, after a fashion," replied Walter, smiling at some amusing memory. "Like enough I shouldn't have known much about it, either, if Bob had not told me," continued Walter. "Bob, however, talked nothing else morning, noon, and night. Often I would drop asleep while he was chattering of induction coils, wave lengths, and antenna. It makes me yawn now to think of it. My goodness, weren't Ma and I sick to death of hearing nothing but radio! Bob would rush into the house at mealtime, swallow his food whole, and tear off to Hicks's with a piece of pie in his hand, leaving all the chores to me. I got pretty sore, I can tell you." He gave a short laugh. "Between Mother begrudging the poor chap every cent he spent for batteries and wire, and me pitching into him for forgetting to chop the kindlings, I'm afraid his early wireless career wasn't a very pleasant one." Once more the lad laughed, this time with comic ruefulness. "Even when the apparatus actually did begin to work and Bob and Billy were able to get a concert or lecture now and then, Ma insisted they were bluffing her. She listened in but wasn't convinced, declaring they had fastened a victrola to the receivers and that such sounds never could come through the air. Finally they did succeed in getting her to half believe they were telling her the truth and were not just working her for money. But when they tried to explain the outfit to her in detail, she put her hands over her ears, protesting that they were wasting their breath to tell her of damped and undamped waves, detectors, and generators. With that they gave up further attempts to educate her." Both boys chuckled. "But she must be proud of your brother now," asserted Dick. "Oh, she is--tremendously, although what she chiefly thinks about is the danger Bob is in of getting struck by lightning or electrocuted." Achilles, who had been pursuing some sandpipers along the rim of the surf and sent them circling into the air, now raced back to his friends with a sharp bark of salutation and Dick bent to pat the shaggy head. "So really," reflected he, "your brother taught himself wireless." "Not wholly. He simply laid a foundation," the other boy explained. "He could never have taken a job on what he had picked up because, you see, he knew nothing of sending messages, was ignorant of all the rules an operator has to have at his tongue's end, and had no very thorough knowledge of electricity. It was not like a complete training, by any means. The war gave him that. When it broke out he enlisted in the navy, and because he was partially equipped in radio they sent him off posthaste to a wireless school. At the time he was crazy because his dream was to get across and be in the fighting. To sit at home studying was the last thing he wanted to do. Later, though, when he began to see what a big part wireless was playing in the scrimmage, he commenced to be more resigned to his lot. Besides he got his chance before long, for he worked into being a crackerjack at speed and passed his exams so well that he had no trouble in winning his first-class operator's certificate. "There are grades of radio men, you know, just as there are grades of everything else. There are the sharks, or first-class chaps, who are able to pass every sort of test on the adjustment of apparatus and how to use it; who can both send and receive messages at the rate of at least twenty words a minute, and who can often go much faster; and who have all the rules governing the exchange of radio messages stowed away in their heads. They are the A1 men and every first-class ship is obliged by law to have aboard it two of them. Then there are the second-class certificate fellows who practically have as much radio but cannot hit such a gait, and can only manage to send between twelve and nineteen words a minute. They can go on first-class ships provided more skilled operators are aboard. Sometimes, even, they substitute for them under supervision. Their chief jobs, however, are on ships that use wireless only for their personal benefit; that is, to talk with their own crews. Often a fishing fleet, for instance, will carry a man of this class to communicate with its other vessels. They can talk, too, with shore stations when it is necessary. But the law does not allow them to take positions where there is a great rush of business and general responsibility. They must have the topnotchers for such work." "I had no idea there were so many rules about radio," mused Dick. "There are--strict ones, too," replied his companion. "Moreover, the government keeps tabs on all radio people to see they obey the rules. Every wireless man is examined, classified, and given a license just as an automobile driver is. He has to keep it handy, too, and be ready to trot it out on request. You can't get by with bluffing. If an operator is found to be unfamiliar with the rules, or is discovered breaking any of them, his certificate can be withdrawn. No chap wants to risk that, especially if he is trying to earn his living by wireless. And if a ship, and not its radio operator, is found to be breaking the rules, the coastal stations may be notified not to have anything to do with her. In other words she is boycotted and the land operators told neither to receive her messages nor answer them." "That would be some boycott!" "The shipboard radio stations, you see, come under the authority of the commanding officer of the ship. It has to be so, because in case of accident he would be the person responsible for sending out distress calls and answering them. The radio man couldn't just grab the power. There has to be one boss of every job." "I can see that," nodded Dick. "But why such a network of other rules?" "There have to be. It all has to be charted in black and white or there would be terrible mix-ups." "And do foreign ships have to fall into line and do as our ships do when they come here?" "They are expected to, Bob said," answered Walter. "In case they do not, however, they cannot be meddled with by underlings. Instead they are immediately reported to the government and the two countries involved settle their dispute by arbitration. It is too delicate a matter for others to butt in on, for some blunderer might offend another country and get us into war just through being stupid. Conversely, when our ships are in foreign waters they must keep the naval rules of the nation they are visiting." "That's fair." "It sure is," agreed Walter. "Besides that, all the shipboard radio stations have to carry with them their license to prove that they are authorized by their countries to operate a wireless outfit, and that they fulfil the requirements of the government whose flag they fly. Should any trouble arise when they are in a foreign port they can be asked to produce this license; and if the foreign authorities whom they are visiting have reason to suspect they are not meeting the standards the license demands they can complain to the government that is responsible for the ship." "But suppose the government didn't know anything about such a ship?" "Great Scott! But it does, man," ejaculated Walter. "There are lists that contain not only the name and nationality of all ships but even the names and addresses of its radio operators. There is no getting by that." "So the ships themselves are not allowed to take up their own quarrel if they are challenged?" commented Dick. "No. They simply have to stay perfectly polite and keep their mouths shut, no matter how mad they are," grinned His Highness. "Otherwise there would be squabbles all the time, for there are always misunderstandings and grudges, and people who enjoy picking on one another. All the ships would be fighting and the countries that owned them, too, if everybody rolled up his sleeves and pitched into the other fellow when things went wrong. Governments are supposed to be more slow-moving, fair, and impartial. And anyhow, it is their job to look out for their own citizens and see they are squarely treated. Bob says it is a more dignified way than for individuals to fight out their own quarrels. It certainly carries more weight. Nobody is going to bully a ship and make trouble for its crew if a big nation stands behind it. It serves as a check on the men, too, Bob told me, for when they are in other countries and have shore leave they have to remember that they must behave themselves and not disgrace their governments." "You can't sail out of reach of Uncle Sam, eh? Apparently he knows in a general way just how you are conducting yourself all the time," smiled Dick. "That's about it," acquiesced Walter. Whistling to the dogs, they turned about. "What a pile you know about all this," Dick presently observed. "Shucks! No, I don't," blushed His Highness. "I am only repeating what Bob spieled off to me. He likes to talk when he's home and I like to listen. It's interesting--at least I think so. Besides, I'm proud of Bob knowing such a lot. I wish I did." The lad dug his heel into the moist sand and watched the hole fill with water. "Somehow I'm an awful boob at books," he suddenly confessed. "I hate so to study that Ma fairly has to haul me along by the hair or I'd never go to school. I barely skinned through this year. Up to the very last minute we all had cold chills for fear I wouldn't." Dick shot the offender a sympathetic glance. "I don't like reading about things myself so well as doing them," he confided. "I'm crazy about machinery. It's fun to tinker with it--take it to pieces and put it together again. I like nothing better than to overhaul an engine." He held up two grease-stained hands. "It horrifies my mother," he continued, "but my father doesn't seem to mind if I am all black with oil from my car or the motor boats. What I want now is a wireless outfit. I'm going to strike Dad for one my birthday. It comes the last of this month and he might as well give me that as anything else. Do you suppose if he got it we could rig it up together?" Walter's eyes opened at the casualness of the observation. In his family a birthday was an occasion for a chocolate cake, some neckties, and perhaps a pair of rubber boots or a similar useful gift. Or it sometimes brought with it a book and a box of candy. Never by any chance did its felicitations expand into a gift so colossal as a wireless apparatus. The breach between the two lads, which during the exchange of confidences had narrowed into nothingness, widened abruptly. "A good set would be some present," he commented, thinking, perhaps, the other boy might be ignorant of its value. "Oh, I guess it would not break Dad," smiled Dick serenely. "He gave me my car last year, and the year before--let me think--oh, the pups!" He pointed to the Airedales, a streak of buff against the green of the distant marsh. "Wireless couldn't cost much more." "N--o, I don't believe it would," His Highness admitted slowly, the contrast in their financial standards seeping in on him. "Oh, I imagine I could have a set all right if I said the word," continued Dick, with the indifference of one to whom such presents brought no agitation. "The question is, could we set it up if we had it?" "I couldn't," came promptly from Walter. "I think, though, that if Bob was home on leave he might help us." "Your brother? I had forgotten him. So he is at home sometimes?" "Oh, yes. He gets off for a day now and then." "It must be a whole lot of a bore to be tied down in a wireless station listening for messages all the time," observed Dick carelessly. "Operators do not have to sit with their ears glued to the receivers every second, man," declared the village lad. "The men are relieved at regular hours. Besides, all stations both on shore and on shipboard are divided into classes and have their hours carefully mapped out for them. There are three different varieties of shipboard stations, for example. Some have constant service; that is, operators are always listening while the ship is underway. Then there is a second sort where the operator listens in only during specified hours when the office is open for business. A third class has no fixed hours at all, the radio man just listening the first ten minutes of each hour." "So the men just suit themselves, eh?" "Suit themselves! You bet they don't," laughed Walter. "The government defines their hours when their license is issued. The class they are put in decides it." "That's news to me," said Dick. "And the shore stations?" "The shore stations are a chapter in themselves," Walter replied. "There are several different kinds and each kind has its own rules." "You don't propose to tell me about them, then," retorted the New Yorker mischievously. "It's too long a yarn," answered the other. "Besides, I might not get it straight. Sometime, though, if you want me to, I'll pass on what I know. But to-day I guess we ought to be hiking back. It is close onto the time the pack is fed and I may have them yelping at my throat if I don't hurry." Quickening their pace the boys whistled to the dogs who came dashing through the clumps of bayberry that dotted the field. They were panting with thirst and only too ready to turn homeward. Across the sandy hillocks, through pine-shaded stretches of woods, along the road walled in with June roses they raced and chased, stopping now and again to look back and make certain that their masters were following. When the spit of sand narrowed to a ribbon and the entrance to Surfside was reached they halted, lying down to cool off in the fresh sea breeze until they should be overtaken. At the gate Dick and Walter parted. It was amusing to see the Airedales waver, then lured by hunger, desert their owner and pursue Walter and Achilles. They came up with lolling tongues at the kennels just as His Highness was unlocking the door. While he fumbled with the latch he noticed they sniffed excitedly about and that Achilles barked. "You're starved, poor old chaps!" remarked he aloud. "Well, no matter. You shall have your dinner right off now." Coaxing them in he banged the wicket behind him and passed through into the pen where the Pekingese, clamoring for their food, came yelping to meet him. Instinctively he scanned the fluffy-coated group. Lola was not there. The discovery, however, caused him no concern for often Mrs. Crowninshield carried the prize-winner up to the big house or took her for a ride in the car. Therefore, although her bright eyes were missing he did not worry, but fed the other dogs and gave them fresh water. The task completed, he sauntered toward the garage. How still it was everywhere. With the exception of Dick's racer every car was gone and all the chauffeurs with them. Even Jerry was nowhere about; and the gardeners were far down on the south slope where he could just detect the clip of their shears as they trimmed the privet hedge. The grounds were as deserted as if the earth had swallowed up every inhabitant. Surfside, deprived of its accustomed hum and bustle, was actually lonely. With uncertain step the boy loitered in the sun, glancing at the expanse of sea and at a knockabout that heeled dangerously in the rising wind. Thinking he might find Jerry and thus banish solitude he meandered up the avenue toward the house. Jerry, however, was nowhere to be seen but the silence was broken by the siren horns of approaching motors and the Crowninshield cars came rolling in through the broad entrance. Since he chanced to be on the spot he may as well go up to the veranda, meet the family, and bring Lola back with him to be fed and tucked up for the night. Accordingly he hurried along and was at the steps almost as soon as the automobiles came to a stop. Together with a company of laughing guests, Nancy and Mr. and Mrs. Crowninshield alighted. "Such a beautiful ride as we've had, Dick!" called Mrs. Crowninshield to her son. "We've been over to Harwich and picked up the Davenports, you see, and brought them home for the evening. I think, Mrs. Davenport, you remember my son, Richard. Nancy, take Janet and Marie in with you so they can leave their wraps. You young people will have just about time for a set of tennis before dinner." The cars had shot away and she was about to go indoors when the mistress of the house espied Walter. "Did you wish to see me?" she called. "I thought I'd take Lola down to the kennels." "Lola! Is she here?" "I thought you had her." "No, indeed." "But she must be here at the house." "No, she isn't. I never leave her with the maids. She is at the kennels." "I've just come from there." "And she wasn't there?" "No, ma'am." "Are you sure?" "Positive!" "But my dear boy, didn't you leave her there?" "Yes. But I thought you took her when you went to drive. You have a key." "I didn't." "And you did not give the key to any of the maids?" "Of course not." "Well, she isn't there," announced Walter, a tremor of trepidation passing over him. "Nonsense! She must be. Where else could she be?" "I don't know." "Oh, you haven't half looked," smiled Mrs. Crowninshield reassuringly. "Lola is such a tiny dog she often gets hidden away out of sight. I'll come and find her for you." Excusing herself to her guests she followed Walter across the grass and in silence they unfastened the wire gate that led into the enclosure where the Pekingese were kept. But search as they would they failed to discover the missing dog. Lola was gone! _Gone!_ CHAPTER VII THE PURSUIT OF LOLA Yes, Lola was gone; there could be no question about that. Had not Walter scented trouble he would soon have been made aware of it by the excitement that prevailed in the Peeks' kennels. Every dog of the lot was barking furiously and with gleaming eyes and tail erect striving to communicate tidings of importance. Yet bark as they might, the message they sought to voice remained, alas, untold. "If they could only speak we should soon know what has happened," bewailed the lad to Mrs. Crowninshield, as for the hundredth time they searched every nook and corner for a clue to the mystery. "Yes, they know--poor little things," their mistress agreed. "They are trying their best to tell the story, too. I'd give worlds to know what it is." "And I." "You are certain you locked everything up when you took the other dogs out." "Positive. Dick was with me and we both tried the gate before we started." "Nothing seems to be disturbed." "No. That is the strange part of it." Mrs. Crowninshield stopped, hot and breathless from her search. "I cannot believe but that the mite will turn up. Have you asked Jerry or Tim?" "They were nowhere about when I got back," Walter replied. "The whole place was still as the grave. I was just going to hunt up Jerry when I saw the cars coming up the avenue." "Well, I must not delay any longer now," announced Mrs. Crowninshield. "The Davenports will be wondering what has become of me and so will everybody else. Just find Jerry and Tim and quietly make sure they have not taken the dog. In the meantime I will inquire of the maids at the house. We will not, however, make too much talk about it, and send out an alarm until we are certain there is a real tragedy. If I can keep Mr. Crowninshield in ignorance of the matter until our guests have gone I shall be glad. He will be dreadfully upset for he took great pride in his possession of Lola and has declined numberless offers to sell her." "I know it," groaned Walter. "If it were only one of the other dogs that was missing!" "The fact that it isn't is what alarms me," returned the woman. "Lola is a quiet little thing and has been petted so much that it would not be like her to run away. Some of the other dogs might but she wouldn't. She is far too timid." "How could she run away, even if she had a mind to, with the gate locked?" "I know. That is another ominous fact." Mrs. Crowninshield shook her head. "I'm afraid----" "What?" "That she has been stolen." "Stolen!" gasped Walter. "But how could she with--with everybody around?" "But you yourself just said that nobody was around." "Jove! That's true. Still somebody must have been here some time during the afternoon. It is not likely Jerry, Tim, and all the rest were out of hearing all the time I was gone." "That is what we must find out." "I'll go and hunt up Jerry now." "Do. But work quietly; do not make a fuss. It will be time enough to get everybody up in arms when we have to. I dread to think what Mr. Crowninshield will say. He will be furious, simply furious." With this dubious prediction his wife walked away. She herself was upset. It was easy enough to see that. She strove, however, to be calm, clinging desperately to the hope that the dog might be discovered in the care of some of the men or maids. She idolized Lola and although she did not admit it, His Highness knew only too well that if it really proved that her pet was gone she, too, would be furious. "A nice mess!" commented the lad to himself as he hurried across the lawn in search of Jerry. "A nice hole I am in the very first thing! Between them they will tear me to pieces. And Ma--Ma will say, '_I told you so!_' That's all the sympathy I'll get from her. She'll have to know, of course, for Mr. Crowninshield will fire me bag and baggage. I must expect that. Jerry as good as told me so when I came. I sha'n't have a chance to defend myself. They will just believe I left the gate of the kennels unlocked when I went out and that Lola made off as fast as her four small feet could carry her. They will either think that, or they will think--" he stopped aghast at the possibility that had taken possession of his mind. "They couldn't think I left it open on purpose for some one to get in and _take_ Lola! They couldn't think that! But suppose Mr. Crowninshield did decide I was an accomplice what proof have I but my word that I wasn't. It does look bad--my being gone and taking Achilles and the other dogs with me. Still, I've done it every day since I've been here. And anyway, they would know I could not entice Jerry and Tim away even if I had wanted to." The boy took courage. "No, of course they couldn't think _I_ had anything to do with Lola being gone," he murmured. By this time he had overtaken Tim and his fellow workers who were still busy clipping the hedge. "Tim!" he called. There was no answer but the crisp snip, snip of the shears. "Tim!" "Did you call?" "Yes. You haven't seen Lola, have you?" "Lola? Indeed I haven't. What would she be doing round here, I'd like to know?" His Highness struggled to smile. "Oh, I just thought you might have seen her." "She's not at the kennels?" "No." "Oh, then the mistress took her up to the house. She often does. She is clean daffy over that dog. Give yourself no concern, sonny; the pup is with the master and missis, being shown off to company, most likely." "Probably she is. So you and the men have been here all the afternoon?" "That we have. A hot job, the cutting of this hedge." "It looks fine," declared Walter, turning away. "It ought to," Tim growled. "Goodness knows it's trouble enough! A privet hedge is the devil to keep even." Walter, however, did not wait to hear the virtues and vices of privet hedges discussed. He was in too much of a hurry. Furthermore, he had secured the information which he had come to seek. Tim and his host knew nothing of the whereabouts of Lola. Nothing else mattered. In fact, bewildered, anxious, and excited, it seemed at the moment as if nothing else would ever matter again. He must find that dog--he _must_! Nevertheless he remembered he must not appear agitated and therefore, instead of racing across the lawn and shouting for Jerry as would have been his inclination, he walked decorously along the path until he came to the boathouse from which door Jerry was at that instant issuing. "You haven't seen Lola, have you, Jerry?" he asked as indifferently as he could. "Lola? No. Why?" "It--it is just her dinner time," stammered the lad, "and I wanted to find her." "She'll be up at the house, most likely, if she isn't at the kennels," announced Jerry. "There's visitors and Lola will be on deck to see 'em. She's a vain little lady and likes to be shown off." Walter greeted the remark with a sickly grin. "What have you been doing?" inquired he idly. "Me? Why, I was just starting to fix that hasp on the gate to the chicken coop when Minnie came running down from the house to say somebody wanted to speak to me on the telephone. It was a long-distance call and kept me there most half an hour; and what it was all about I don't know now. Some feller I never heard of kept talking and talking, and I couldn't make head nor tail out of anything he said. Finally I told him so and hung up the receiver. I can't imagine who he was. Nobody ever telephones me." "So you didn't get the hasp fixed on the hen yard." "I would have hadn't the cook held me up just as I was leaving and wanted I should put a new washer on the kitchen faucet. I saw it needed it the worst way. In fact, I had planned to do it before the folks came and it had slipped my mind. So I tinkered with that and got nothing else done. I'm just after mending a hinge on the boathouse door. A profitless afternoon, I call it." "So you haven't been back to your diggings since noon." "Not a once. Why? Did you want me?" "N--o. Oh, no." "That's lucky. Apparently everybody else did," concluded Jerry grimly. So went Walter's quest! Nobody had seen Lola. Nobody knew anything about her. Question as he would, not the faintest trace of the missing dog could be obtained; and when the Davenports rolled down the drive the lad faced the awful moment when his secret must be divulged and the alarm sounded that Lola, the Crowninshields' most valued possession, was missing. Rapidly he turned the prospect of the coming storm over in his mind. Since the dog had been left in his charge the only manly thing to do, he argued, was to go directly to Mr. Crowninshield and himself acquaint him with the direful tidings. It would be cowardly to shunt this wretched task off on somebody else. It was his duty and his alone. Nevertheless, as he stood for a moment summoning his courage, he would have given all he possessed to escape the interview that awaited him. He would be scolded, blamed, discharged--that he knew--and he must bear bravely censure for something which he could not feel was his fault. Yet notwithstanding the fact that his conscience exonerated him it made the coming scene no less dreadful to anticipate. If Bob were only at hand to offer him his advice and sympathy. Bob was such a bully comforter. He never jumped on a man when he was down. Besides, he had a level head and always knew exactly what to do in an emergency. The instant this awful talk with Mr. Crowninshield was over and he was actually "fired" he should call Bob on the telephone and tell him the whole story. He must tell somebody, and Bob would understand better than anyone else just how everything had happened. In the meantime there was nothing to be gained by further delay. Pulling himself together, His Highness (a very meek bit of royalty now) dragged himself up the flower-bordered path toward Surfside. As he went it seemed as if every pansy flanking the walk stared out at him and whispered, "Aha, young man! You're in for it now!" Alas, he did not need to be told that! He knew it only too well. He cleared his throat, wondering how he should begin his confession. "Mr. Crowninshield, I have some very sad news to impart to you--etc."; or "Mr. Crowninshield, I regret to say a very terrible thing has happened." Such an introduction was easily delivered. It was the next sentence that appalled him. He could not get it off his tongue. "_Lola has disappeared!_" He could see now the great man's face as it flushed with anger and surprise. What would _he_ say--that was the question? Probably his reply would be something like this. "Young fellow, when I hired you, you undertook to look out for my dogs and see that nothing happened to them. I agreed to pay you good wages to perform that service and you, on your part, promised to do it satisfactorily. How have you kept that promise? You knew Lola's value and you should have looked out for her. It's up to you. You must either produce that dog or you must pay for her." He had by this time reached the house and like a criminal who faces execution and mounts the scaffold steps he climbed the broad flight leading to the front door. Mr. Crowninshield was on the veranda, sitting quietly in a big wicker chair, looking out toward the sea. He was thinking so intently on some imagining of his own that he did not hear the lad's footfall and Walter was obliged to address him twice before he answered. Then he started suddenly, as if annoyed at being disturbed. "Well?" interrogated he. The fine introduction that His Highness had planned to utter, together with everything else he had arranged to say, fled from his memory and he stood speechless before his employer. "You wish to see me?" Mr. Crowninshield repeated in a less sharp tone. "I--yes, sir." Nevertheless, despite the heavy pause the words the boy sought would not come. Instead a plaintive jumble of phrases tumbled incoherently forth, astounding the lad himself almost as much as they did the person to whom they were addressed: "Oh, sir, I've lost your dog, Lola! I didn't mean to and I didn't really lose her. She was gone when I got back from my walk with Achilles and the others. I left her locked in all right--I know I did. Where she is or how she got out I've no idea. I'm terribly sorry. I can't possibly pay for her, and you'll just have to put me in prison. It's the only way, I guess. Don't blame my mother or Bob, please, or Jerry either, because I've turned out to be such a duffer. It isn't their fault. And perhaps I better go straight home. I suppose you won't want me round here any more." A great gasp strangled any further utterance and only the lad's sobbing breath broke the stillness. Nerved to receive a scourge of maledictions or a blow the culprit waited. But nothing came--neither vindictives nor chastisement. He ventured to raise his head and confront his judge. Mr. Crowninshield was sitting looking far out to sea exactly as before and Walter actually began to wonder whether he had been turned to stone or had been stricken with deafness. "Mr. Crowninshield!" he at last ejaculated when the silence had become intolerable. "Yes." "Did you hear what I said?" "Yes, sonny." "Well--well--what are you going to do with me?" "Nothing, my boy." "_What?_" "This job about Lola is nothing to do with you, my son. It has evidently been planned for a long time and carefully executed by professionals. Had you been on the spot they would have contrived to circumvent you just as they did Jerry. A gang have beaten us, that's all. But I will show them I am not to be beaten so easily. I'll have that dog back if it takes every dollar I have in the world. And I'll land those chaps behind the bars, every one of them, or my name isn't Crowninshield." A tide of angry color surged over the face of the speaker and he rose abruptly, as if forgetting the lad's presence. "Yes, sir!" he continued. "I'll round up those thieves. They needn't put me down for such an ass. Of course it's Daly and that New York bunch that set them on. They have always wanted Lola and been mad as hatters that I refused to sell her. Only the last time I saw Jake Daly he said, 'What I can't get by fair means I sometimes get by foul, Crowninshield, so you'd better look out for your precious dog.' I did not heed the threat at the time, attributing it to temper. But evidently he meant just what he said. He intended to have the dog, whether or no. But by thunder," Mr. Crowninshield brought down his fist on the piazza rail, "he won't win out in the deal! I'll jail him and all his tribe--see if I don't!" Walter, watching, hardly knew whether to go or stay. The man's rage was terrible and he thanked his lucky stars that it was not directed toward himself. "Is--is--there anything I can do, Mr. Crowninshield?" he at last managed to stammer after the master had ceased his pacing of the veranda and at length became conscious of his presence. "Not a thing, little chap," returned his employer, flashing him one of his rare smiles. "You have been mighty white about this, though. I guess it took some nerve to come up here and tell me this, didn't it?" "Yes, sir, it did." "I wondered what you'd do." "Wondered?" "Yes. Mrs. Crowninshield told me about Lola the minute the Davenports went. I saw the affair had nothing to do with you. Nevertheless, I wasn't sorry to try you out and see how much of the man was in you. You're all right, boy. Cheer up! Nobody is going to pack you home to your mother, so don't worry. And far from blaming you, if I want help about finding Lola, I'll add you to my detective force. You may be useful, who knows?" The words, designed merely to be comforting, were idly, kindly spoken, and carried little real weight. Had the master of the house really suspected how true they were to prove he would have been astonished. CHAPTER VIII A BLUNDER AND WHAT CAME OF IT As if a weight had been removed from his soul Walter moved away. The whole world had suddenly become a different place. Although the calamity of Lola's disappearance was none the less distressing at least on his own particular horizon there no longer loomed the spectre of discharge and all the disgrace that accompanied it. He could have tossed his cap into the air for very joy and gratitude. In his relief he was bursting to talk to somebody, and as he had permission to use the telephone in order to keep in touch with his family it occurred to him that now was the moment to call up Bob and impart the exciting tidings of the afternoon. Bob was always off duty at this hour and if he had the good luck to find him at the station just the sound of his voice would be infinitely comforting. Hastening in the side door he glanced into the wee telephone closet. No one was there, and he took down the receiver and called the Seaver Bay station. In another instant Bob's _Hello_ came cheerily over the wire. "It's Walter, Bob." "Anything the matter, kid?" "N--o. Yes. That is, something _was_ the matter but it is all over now. I just wanted to talk to you." "Well, fire ahead. What do you want to say?" "Oh, a lot. I hardly know how to start." The boy laughed nervously. "You're not sick?" "Oh, no." "Well, we can't hold this line forever, son, so break away and tell your tale as fast as you can." "I'll try to, Bob." Incoherently the lad poured out his story. Once launched it came readily from his tongue and he continued to the end of it without interruption from his distant listener. When, however, he had finished, Bob's crisp tones came singing over the wire: "You went out to walk about three, you say?" "Yes." "And returned?" "It must have been half-past four or five, I guess." "And there was nobody about the place all that time?" "The men were all busy somewhere else. Strangely enough even Jerry, who usually is on deck, had a telephone call and had to go up to the big house." "Oh, he did!" "Yes. It was funny, too, because it was somebody he didn't know at all and he couldn't find out what the fellow wanted." "What's that?" The interrogation was sharp and tense. "Jerry just said it was some man up in Brockton whom he didn't know and as he couldn't make head nor tail out of the message he hung up the receiver. Nobody ever telephones to Jerry. It was queer they should do it to-day, wasn't it?" "Very. Did you tell Mr. Crowninshield about it?" "Oh, no, indeed. He was too busy about Lola to think of anything else." "Nevertheless, I would tell him." "What for? It wouldn't interest him." "I think it might--a good deal. You tell him. Do you know whether he has done anything yet or not?" "No, I don't. I didn't dare ask him what he was going to do." "I suppose not. Well, I'm glad you got out of this snarl so well, kid. It's a pity they've lost the dog. You take mighty good care of the rest of the pups and don't let any more of them disappear." "I'll try. And Bob----" "I can't stop to talk any longer now, old chap. So long! If they get a line on the thief you might ring me up again. I shall be interested. Good-by." "Good-by, Bob." How fair Bob always was, reflected the boy, as he emerged into the open and made his way back to the kennels. Some brothers would probably have blurted out, "That's you all over!" or "Trust you to get into a mess!" But Bob never enjoyed seeing somebody else miserable. Instead he always tried to make everybody's troubles smaller than they really were. One could confess one's sins to Bob, knowing that he would be merciful. So thought Walter as he sped down the gravel path to greet the clamoring pack of animals that hungrily awaited his coming. "Well, old sports!" called he as he turned the key in the lock, "I guess you are ready for your supper. Wondering where your boss was, eh? I'm not very late. Only a quarter of an hour. It isn't late enough to warrant your making such a fuss. Down, Achilles! What's the matter with you? Anybody'd think you were crazy to see you jumping up and whining this way. What's got you, old man? Down, I say!" He pushed the dog from him and started to enter the room where the food was kept; but again Achilles was in his path. "Get out of my way, you beggar!" smiled Walter, playfully attempting to shake the creature off. "What is it? Are you clean starved? If you are you must stand out of the way so I can get you something to eat." But the dog refused to move. Planting himself squarely in the lad's pathway he began to bark furiously. Then he raced to the gate, sniffed, and struggled to get out. "What on earth has struck you, you giant?" inquired Walter, regarding the great creature in bewilderment. "Don't you want your dinner?" It was plain in an instant that no matter what the lure of a bone might ordinarily be to-day, it held no charms for the big police dog. He had one wish and only one, and that was to be released from the wire enclosure in which he was penned and left free to follow some plan of his own which evidently absorbed him. So insistent was his demand that it was not to be denied and Walter slipped the bolt and allowed him to race away. Then the boy turned his attention to feeding the other dogs. "Achilles probably has a bone buried somewhere," he muttered to himself, "and is going to dig it up. Just why he prefers stale food to fresh I can't see; but apparently he does." Nevertheless His Highness had scarcely finished giving the dogs their dinner before Achilles was back again, and with no bone, either. On the contrary he was hot, breathless, and panting from what had obviously been a long run through the woods. Pine needles clinging to his furry coat attested that he had been over in the grove that flanked the estate on the west. "Couldn't find your hidden treasure, eh, old boy?" commented Walter. "Gone, was it? Some other dog taken it?" But Achilles failed to accept the jest with the cordiality such jokes commonly evoked. He neither wagged his tail nor stretched his jaws into a grin. Instead he began to yelp and bound back and forth upon the lawn. "You act possessed. What on earth is the matter?" asked the boy, coming toward the gate and starting to open it. No sooner was his hand on the latch, however, than the Belgian raced up with sharp barks of delight. "Want me to come out, do you? Got something to show me?" Again Achilles barked joyfully. "Aren't you the tyrant, though?" remarked Walter. "I've just been to walk and am tired as the deuce. What do I wish to go tramping over the country again for?" Nevertheless, despite his grudging protest, nothing else would satisfy the dog and at length, curious to see what caused the creature's excitement, he slipped the lock and stepped outside on to the turf. Instantly an exultant bark came from Achilles and he dashed away, only to return and take the lead through the woods, his nose to the ground and his ears erect. The boy followed. It was a race to keep up with the rapidly running vanguard. Now the chase skirted the lawn, now dipped into the pine woods. On and on went the dog, and in pursuit of him on and on went Walter. They floundered along the slippery matting of copper, stumbling this way and that, and presently emerged where the land dropped down to the shore. The lad paused. He had no mind to scramble through the tall salt grass or sink ankle deep in the stretch of sand that adjoined it. But Achilles compelled. It was now no longer a matter of choice. The beast approached and catching the corner of the lad's sweater in his mouth tugged at it resolutely, even angrily. Walter dared not resist. He let himself down over the edge of the bank into the sharp-edged grass, and wading through it reached the sand. Here Achilles halted. The end of their pilgrimage had, then, been reached. What was it all about? For a moment dog and man faced one another. Then, glancing about, His Highness gave a little cry. There were footprints in the sand,--deep footprints that the moisture had kept indelible. A train of them came and went toward a ribbon of automobile tracks that narrowed away up the beach and were finally lost in the confusion of a much traveled wood road. Walter's heart leaped within him as the significance of the discovery rose before his imagination. This was the way Lola had gone. A thief, familiar with the country and knowing the isolation of this sequestered cove, had driven through the wood road, left the car behind the dunes, and skulking through the woods, had successfully carried out a daring robbery. Perhaps he had been lingering concealed about the gardens all day or even many days. Who could tell? At any rate, he had chosen a propitious moment, provided himself with a skeleton key, and carried Lola away in the waiting motor car. Where they were now, who could tell? A car travels fast and a long distance could be covered in the two hours that had elapsed. Certainly no more time must be wasted. With Achilles leaping before him Walter raced back to Surfside. Mr. Crowninshield, irritable and excited, was just coming out of the house. "May I speak to you a moment, sir?" panted the boy. "Yes, if it is important. I'm in a rush so do not delay me." "But it's about Lola." "Lola! Go ahead, then, if you have anything to say." The lad told his story. "Ha! Well done, Achilles!" exclaimed the financier when the tale was told. "Well done, old fellow! And well done you too, little shaver! Between you you have given us a big boost toward catching the thief. Now just one thing, sonny. I meant to caution you before you left but forgot it. You are not to speak of this affair to any one--not to any one at all. Do you understand? A false move on our part might undo everything and ruin our cause. Nobody is going to be caught red-handed with that dog in his possession. Rather than be trapped he would kill her. We mustn't let that happen. We shall follow up our man quietly without letting him suspect that he is being watched. That is the only way we can hope to get the pup back again. So mind you hold your tongue. Not a word to anybody on your life. Not a syllable. Be dumb as the grave and let me see how capable you are of keeping your own counsel. The trouble with most people is they blab everything. They can't wait to tell it. Let anything happen and they are off to confide it to some one before you can say Jack Robinson. Now don't you do that--at least not this time. Hold your tongue. This isn't your secret; it's mine." In terror Walter hung his head. Should he confess that he had already telephoned Bob or should he keep silent. Of course Bob wouldn't tell. There wouldn't be anybody to tell way off there at Seaver Bay. Besides, he himself could ring him up and caution him not to. Why need Mr. Crowninshield know anything about it? But suppose Bob had told already and harm was done? Certainly it would be more honest to speak. The boy took a big swallow. "I'm afraid, sir, that I have already told some one," he blurted out miserably. "I didn't know it would do any harm and so I called up my brother and----" "You young idiot!" burst out Mr. Crowninshield indignantly. "Why in thunder couldn't you keep still? We're in a nice mess now! If the story gets about and the police start to track down the thief it is good-by to Lola. Why did you have to run hot-footed to the telephone the first thing? Jove!" "I'm very sorry, sir. I had no idea it would do any harm." "But you have an idea of it now, haven't you?" inquired the master grimly. "Yes. I see what you mean." Mr. Crowninshield heaved an exasperated sigh. "The game's up now, I guess," he muttered. "But my brother lives off by himself in a very lonely place," the lad explained desperately. "Just he and another fellow have a house out on a point of land a long way off from everywhere. They couldn't tell anybody about Lola if they wanted to, especially if I call them right up and ask them not to." "Where is it?" "Seaver Bay." "Never heard of it--or, stop a minute, isn't there a wireless station there or something?" "Yes, sir. My brother----" "Well, no matter about your brother now. You go into the house and call him up. When you get the line let me know and I will speak with him." "Yes, sir." Nevertheless the lad lingered. "I'm--I'm awfully sorry," repeated he. "There, there, go along. You meant no harm. You just blundered. But blunders are expensive things sometimes and this one may prove so unless we can prevent it." Still His Highness did not go. "Well, what are you waiting for?" asked his employer impatiently. "My brother told me to tell you that Jerry had a telephone message this afternoon." "A telephone message? What has that got to do with it?" burst out Mr. Crowninshield at the end of his patience. "I don't know. Bob just said to tell you." "Go ahead then." Hurriedly the boy related the facts of the mysterious communication. "So! Your brother has some brains if you haven't," said Mr. Crowninshield on hearing the story, and Walter saw him smile. "That was neat of them, very! They took the precaution to get Jerry, who is unfailingly about, out of the way." "They?" "The thieves, youngster. It was a Brockton call, you say." "That was what Jerry told me." "Good! That gives us another clue." It was evident the information had put the master in rare good humor. "Trot along, now, and call up this brother of yours. I shall be glad to talk with him, for he sounds as if he might be worth talking to. As for you, son, cheer up! No milk is spilled yet and perhaps it won't be if you have as wise a big brother as it appears. I might never have known of Jerry's message but for him. Jerry himself would not have placed enough importance on it to tell me, I am sure--or you, either, for that matter. So perhaps, after all, you did a good thing to enlist your brother in our behalf." "I hope so, sir. I meant no harm; really I didn't." "There, there, don't think of it again," said Mr. Crowninshield kindly. "I should have remembered you are not a man's age and cannot be expected to have the judgment that goes with fifty or sixty years of living. Even old codgers like myself blunder sometimes." His eyes twinkled and in the radiance of his smile Walter saw the last cloud of wrath roll from his brow. Truly, as Jerry had affirmed, Mr. Crowninshield's rages were like thunderstorms--awesome while they lasted but unfailingly followed by sunshine. CHAPTER IX MORE CLUES Notwithstanding Mr. Crowninshield's comforting words, however, Walter could not shake off the consciousness that take it all in all he had blundered desperately throughout the entire train of events connected with Lola and his vanity was sadly hurt. If any good had come out of what he had done it was more by chance than as a result of wise calculation. He had meant well, that was all that could be said, and the patronage these words implied was by no means flattering to one anxious to make himself valuable to his employer. What a boob he was; what a blunderer! The name Mr. Crowninshield had so wrathfully bestowed on him was unquestionably deserved. It fitted him like a glove. The fact that the great man had afterward sought to palliate the sting of the term did not actually help matters any. What he had thought in the beginning and so spontaneously declared was what he really believed, and as his dispirited retainer observed to himself, who could blame him? He couldn't have made a worse start at a job had he tried. In his depression he almost wished he had never seen Surfside, the Crowninshields, or anything belonging to them. Nor was his melancholy lightened when he found on entering the house that the telephone line was busy and that some one was calling Mr. Crowninshield. Goodness only knew how long it might be now before the wire would be free for the master to reach and warn Bob to keep secret the tidings his brother had tattled to him. Wasn't it infernal luck to encounter this delay? If he had only held his tongue in the first place! Well, it had taught him a lesson. The next time he got mixed up in somebody else's affairs he would keep them to himself. Meandering aimlessly outdoors he sat down on the steps to wait until the owner of the house should finish his conversation. For a time he remained quite quiet; but when the minutes lengthened into a quarter of an hour he began to fidget. Would the talkers never stop? Why, their chattering seemed to be endless? Even through the door he could hear Mr. Crowninshield's curt tones and the eager rise and fall of his voice. Once he laughed as if pleased, and twice Walter heard a cry of "_Good!_" When he did appear on the piazza his face was wreathed in smiles. "That brother of yours is a Jim Dandy!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands. "You did a mighty clever thing, young one, to get him on the job. We never can thank you enough." "Me?" "Certainly you! Why didn't you tell me more about this family paragon of yours? I didn't take in he was a radio operator." "I--I--I don't know," replied Walter, bewildered. "Well, his quick action has helped us no end--that is all I can say," announced the owner of Surfside triumphantly. "The instant he got your message he went to work with his wireless outfit. He flashed messages to all the stations in the outlying cities or else telephoned, and inside of half an hour every road to Boston and to New York was watched. You see a man with a little dog had stopped at his station for water. The wood road skirting our shore goes right by Seaver Bay and probably the thief reasoned that no one would be on the lookout for him on such an out-of-the-way thoroughfare. At any rate he had to have water for his engine and he took a chance. He told your brother he was touring the Cape, and had you not called Bob up he would have thought no more of the happening. But when you told him about Lola immediately he pricked up his ears. The dog tallied perfectly with what you had previously told him and the fact that it was a Pekingese made him suspicious. Leaping at the possibility that his visitor was in reality the man wanted, he sent out a broadcast describing the culprit. "With an accurate description of the man, car, and dog we cannot fail to get tidings soon. And at any rate we have something definite to work on. We know what the thief looks like, what he had on, the make of his car and all about him. Unquestionably he will be stopped either between here and Boston or between here and New York,--for he is probably aiming for one of those cities. I myself rather think he will go straight through to Boston. He would not venture to try New York until later because he would be well aware that the authorities there would be waiting for him. He isn't going to be trapped. So he will try to do the thing he figures I will not calculate upon." Mr. Crowninshield rubbed his hands and laughed. "Little does he know we have him down cold already! And it has all been so quietly and promptly done. That is the beauty of it. You must have got home from your walk very soon after the wretch had left. Therefore the loss was discovered sooner than he had planned. Doubtless he was delayed by Jerry's being about and had to wait until his accomplice up in Brockton called him off. I presume they had agreed upon some hour when they would summon the unsuspecting caretaker to the telephone." As the scheme of the robbery began to unfold, Walter mirrored his employer's smile. "And if the other chap is in Brockton doesn't that indicate that this fellow who was here will most likely expect to pass through there and pick him up?" he ventured, feeling very much of a personage to be thus taken into Mr. Crowninshield's confidence. "Exactly!" His Highness glowed with satisfaction. Some of his self-esteem was returning. "Fortunately your brother had the good sense to warn his allies to act carefully and not alarm the thief, so that the life of the dog might not be jeopardized. He seems to have thought of everything, this brother Bob of yours. If we get Lola back it will be largely his doing--and yours. I sha'n't forget the fact, either." Walter flushed under the great man's praise. "It was just a happen," murmured he. "I thought I had blundered." He saw Mr. Crowninshield color at having his own word hurled back at him. "Some of the most fortunate strokes in our lives are achieved by chance," replied he, laughing. "See how capable I am of shifting my philosophy," he added with good humor. "Nevertheless, although this indiscretion of yours has turned out well I still maintain that, generally speaking, a silent tongue is a great asset. In nine cases out of ten keeping still does far less harm than talking. Jerry is a shining example of my creed. In all the years he has been here he has never let his tongue outrun his solid judgment. And yet," concluded he with a twinkle, "had we trusted to Jerry, we should never have heard of his Brockton telephone communication. So there you are! Which is the better way? It seems to be a toss up in this case." "I guess the better way is never to make a mistake," smiled Walter. "Do you know the infallible person who can boast such a record?" came whimsically from Mr. Crowninshield. "N--o, sir." "Nor I." A pause fell between them and Walter rose to go. "Do you suppose you will hear anything more to-night?" questioned he shyly. "There is no telling. We may have news at any moment; or again we may hear nothing until into the night or till morning." "I'm crazy to get tidings, aren't you?" In his earnestness the lad had forgotten that they were not of an age or quite of the same station. The master smiled indulgently. "I'm every bit as crazy to hear as you are," said he, quite as if Lola were their joint possession. "Do you think you'll get any message before I go to bed?" Once more Mr. Crowninshield regarded him with friendly comradeship. "That depends on what time you turn in." "At home Ma makes me go at nine o'clock. I've done it pretty much, too, since I've been here. She wanted I should." "You are a sensible fellow. Nine o'clock is late enough for anybody to sit up, although I will admit," the man chuckled mischievously, "that in New York we occasionally sit up later than that." But Walter ignored the jest. "Do you think you will hear by nine?" persisted he. "There is no way of knowing, sonny," was the kind answer. "The best thing for you to do, however, is to go to bed as you usually do. You are tired out with excitement. I can see that." "No I'm not," contradicted the boy, his eyes very wide open. "But you are--a deal more fagged than you realize. I am myself. Now I'll tell you what we'll do. I'll go to bed and you go to bed; and if any message comes I'll tell them to waken me and then I'll waken you. I can call you on the wire that goes from the house down to your quarters. How will that do?" "But suppose I shouldn't hear it?" objected the lad. "Somebody will. The chauffeurs do not go to sleep as early as you do, I rather fancy. I will give orders for one of them to tell you if a call comes." "I'd much prefer to sit up, sir. Why couldn't I just sit here on the piazza? It wouldn't disturb anybody and I should be on the spot." "You might sit here all night and catch your death of cold, and no tidings come until morning, sonny. No, my plan is much the better one. You trot along to bed. I'll fulfill my part of the contract and go also. And if there is anything to tell before morning you shall hear it." Reluctantly the lad moved away. He was not in the least sleepy. Nevertheless because he had given his word he dragged himself across the lawn, mounted the stairs to his room, and began to undress. His spirits were very high. Within an hour or two--three hours at the very most--the telephone would ring and Mr. Crowninshield would announce to him the glad tidings that the thief had been caught. Then some one would motor to Barnstable, Brockton, or wherever it was, recapture Lola, and bring her back, and the events of the past few hours would be only a nightmare. And it would be Bob--he and Bob--who brought about this glorious climax to a day of catastrophes. And if such a result was accomplished had not the owner of Surfside promised that he would never forget the service? For his own part Walter wanted nothing. If Lola could only be found his happiness would be complete. But if only Mr. Crowninshield would do something wonderful for Bob! Perhaps he might give him a big sum of money; he could well afford to. Or maybe he would put him in the way of earning it. There was no telling what Aladdin-like feats he might perform. Such a man was all powerful. Why, he could send Bob to Europe if he chose! Or pay the mortgage on the house. He could make Bob's fortune. The younger boy thrilled at the thought. With these optimistic and intriguing fancies in mind he slipped into bed and soon dozed off into dreams wilder and even more extravagant. He slept soundly and awoke with a bewildered cry when a knock came at the door. "It's I--Wheeler, shaver! The boss wants you on the telephone." Up scrambled Walter, his stupor banished by the agitation of the moment. He did not wait to don his clothes but in his pajamas took the stairs two at a time and soon had his ear to the receiver. "Walter?" "Yes, sir." "Well, we have some news, such as it is." Mr. Crowninshield's voice sounded dubious and discouraged. "They tracked the car we were after to Buzzard's Bay and found it there empty; its occupants had disappeared." "Disappeared!" repeated the astounded boy. "Yes, they're gone! Vanished in thin air! Not a trace of them is to be found. The abandoned automobile with its number removed, was discovered on a side road." "The man must be hiding somewhere in the vicinity then." "That does not follow, son; I wish it did." "What else could he do?" "His accomplice from Brockton could meet him with another car, for one thing." "A different car, and throw us off the scent!" "Precisely." For a second neither of them spoke. Walter was too nonplussed and his employer too disheartened. "Isn't that the limit!" the lad presently gathered indignation enough to ejaculate. "I expected something of the sort," was the reply. "We are up against professionals, you see, and not amateurs. This gang is being paid big money and does not intend either to fail in what it has undertaken or be trapped. We had it too easy at the beginning and were too much elated by our initial success." "What are you going to do now?" "I've wired New York for detectives. I ought to have followed my first impulse and done it immediately, and I should have had we not seemed on the high road to success without help. The plain-clothes men will probably be miffed at being called in now that we have meddled with the case and messed it all up." "But I don't see how we have done any harm," retorted His Highness, feeling it a little ungrateful of Mr. Crowninshield to veer so quickly from commendation to censure. "Oh, untrained people never can compete with skilled ones in any line," was the sharp answer. "I ought to have remembered it. Doubtless in our zeal we betrayed ourselves somehow and our man became suspicious and adopted other tactics in consequence." "I don't believe so," Walter maintained stoutly. "I'll bet this is just what he had arranged to do anyway." "Well, perhaps it was. We cannot tell about that," yawned the man at the other end of the wire. "The result, however, is the same. Instead of netting our catch we have allowed it to slip through our fingers." There was an edge of exasperation in the tone. "Maybe we'll have better luck than you think," ventured the lad, not knowing what else to say, and unwilling to betray his chagrin. "We'll have neither good luck nor bad in future," responded the master curtly. "After this we keep our hands off and the detectives manage the affair. There have been blunders enough." With this ungracious comment the great man hung up the receiver and stumbling through the darkness His Highness felt his way upstairs and dropped into bed. Like a house of cards his roseate dreams for the future had suddenly collapsed. There would be now no wonderful career for Bob, no bag of gold, no fairy fortune! Instead of being a hero he had again become a mere duffer, a blunderer, had played the fool. Since failure had come in place of the coveted success Mr. Crowninshield would most likely blame it all to him. Fleeting, indeed, was the favor and gratitude of princes! CHAPTER X BOB By late afternoon of the following day the New York detectives arrived and Wheeler drove their dusty and travel-stained car around to the garage. "Must have speeded up some!" commented he, on viewing the throbbing machine. "Left New York at midnight," they said. "Some friends of the master's likely, come to play golf." Ever given to frankness it was on the tip of Walter's tongue to declare the real identity of the strangers, but fortunately he bethought him in time to halt the words. "What did they look like?" inquired he, eager to know and yet anxious not to appear inquisitive. "Look like? Like any other dusty, muddy guys," grumbled Wheeler, eyeing with disdain the grimy automobile which he knew he would be expected to clean. "Old or young?" persisted His Highness. "Old enough to know better than to heat up an engine this way, but young enough to do it," snapped Wheeler. "Shouldn't think their car had seen water in years, it's that filthy. A rum job for me!" Walter, however, did not reply. He was not in the least interested in the mud-caked car. It was its occupants that aroused his curiosity. In all his life he had never seen a genuine detective and he was all impatience for a peep at persons allied with such an intriguing profession. While his reason told him they must, of course, look precisely like other men, nevertheless the hope would persist that perhaps, after all, they didn't. And even if they did appear like ordinary mortals were there not their myriad disguises? He hoped with all his heart they would wear some of these, that the exigencies of the case would compel it. Very great, then, was his surprise and disappointment when on being summoned to the big house soon after the arrival of these interesting creatures he was presented to two commonplace beings who, although charming gentlemen, were not in the least different from anybody else. Mr. Dacie, the younger of the men, was a pleasant, blond-haired fellow who instantly ingratiated himself in the boy's affections by asking him if he collected stamps and bestowing on him two rare ones from China. In fact he seemed to like everything a boy liked and appeared to be almost a boy himself. Mr. Lyman was older but he, too, when he was not being stern and business-like, was very jolly. No one could possibly be afraid of either one of them and then and there His Highness's faith in the ultimate success of Mr. Crowninshield's cause dwindled and died. They weren't disguised at all; and if they had pistols they must have had them well concealed for the only suspicious articles produced from their pockets were notebooks and pencils. He had expected to be quite awed by their presence but on the contrary he found, when he started out to show them the kennels and the place where he had seen the automobile tracks, that he was chattering away to both of them quite as if he had known them all his life. Mr. Dacie was particularly friendly, and as they walked along he talked much of sports, dogs, and fishing. Furthermore he was intensely interested in Bob and listened attentively to all that was told him about this remarkable big brother. He had a bully brother himself, he said. In short, before a half hour had passed His Highness had not only decided to become a detective but to become one exactly like Mr. Dacie. And yet as he thought it over afterward the hero of his sudden adoration had not uttered one syllable about jails, criminals, robberies, or crimes of any sort. In fact he had talked really very little. What he had done had been to smile, nod, and let the other fellow babble. It had, to be sure, been a delightful experience to find yourself a lion, and everything you did of interest to your listener; but you did not learn much about the business of being a detective, reflected Walter, a bit mortified by his discovery. Well, the next time he was with Mr. Dacie he would ask him some questions and let him relate everything about his mysterious calling. Strange to say, however, the moment for such disclosures never appeared to come right. There was always so much else to talk of. Mr. Dacie wanted most terribly to catch some flounders and wondered if there were any to be found; and of course as Walter knew of three secret places where flounders were sure to lurk he eagerly told his new friend about them. And then he had to talk swimming and school--and how he hated it! Why, there were endless things to tell Mr. Dacie. The visit of the two men was, moreover, surprisingly short. They remained at Surfside only one night and the next morning, together with Mr. Crowninshield, who led the way in his car, they disappeared leaving His Highness none the wiser and regretfully mourning his lost opportunity to be initiated into the gruesome mysteries of a detective's career. The realization that in exchange for telling everything he knew or ever had thought Mr. Dacie had told him nothing suddenly caused the lad to speculate as to whether after all both Mr. Dacie and his associate, Mr. Lyman, were not cleverer than they looked to be. It seemed incredible to recall, now that they were gone, that he had not once asked them what they thought about Lola and whether they had any idea where the man who had taken her had gone. How much better it would have been had he made that inquiry instead of chattering about his own affairs. But somehow when there had been a lull in the conversation they had always been busy measuring footprints or automobile ruts, and writing down these unending dimensions. Moreover, something which he was unable to explain always halted the questions. Well, it was useless to regret his vanished opportunities. The detectives were now far beyond his reach and probably he would never see them again. He might as well go about his work and put them, together with Lola and her baffling disappearance, out of his mind. This he tried valiantly to do, but in spite of his utmost endeavor his thought constantly reverted to the missing dog, and when toward dusk Mr. Crowninshield's car came whirling up the avenue His Highness had all he could do not to rush out and demand of the master whether he had secured any further information. To remember that he must keep constantly in the background was, in fact, one of the most difficult aspects of Walter's job. As a democratic young American who had always mingled in the best society Lovell's Harbor had to offer he had been free to give a hail to anybody he desired to greet. But at Surfside everything was different. He must stifle his natural impulses and curb his tongue, a role very hard for one who had had no previous experience with class distinctions. Difficult as it had been he had made up his mind to being excluded from the gayety that went on about him. It was, to be sure, no fun to view automobile loads of young people roll out of the drive bent on a day of pleasure; to look on while motor boats pulled up anchor and puffed across the blue of the bay. And how he would have adored to try his hand at a set of tennis on that fine dirt court! Ah, there were moments when to a normal, healthy boy the world appeared a very unfair place; and the lot of one who worked for a living a wretched one. And then, when his spirits had reached their lowest ebb, he would resolutely take himself to task. Was there not his pay envelope to compensate him? He was not at Surfside to have a good time; he was there to earn his daily bread and very fortunate was he to have so good a place. Having read himself this lecture he was wont to turn to his duties with lighter heart, closing his ears to the laughter and his eyes to the merriment that made up the days of the idle. But what he never could get used to was the fact that he must not ask questions or voice his opinions. In a free country where one man was as good as another the mandate seemed absurd. But it wasn't done. That was all there was about it. Jerry said so and so did Tim. Instead of piping, "Hi, Mr. Crowninshield, did you find out anything?" one awaited the information until it was voluntarily imparted. In this particular case, as good fortune would have it, His Highness's impatience had seethed and bubbled only a half hour before who should come strolling down to the kennels but the very gentleman the lad was feverish to interrogate. Arrayed in a cool Palm Beach suit and a soft hat of white felt he sauntered up as indifferently as if the boy's curiosity were not at the boiling point and said, "Good evening," in a perfectly calm, self-possessed tone. "Good evening, sir," Walter replied. "Dogs all right?" "Yes, sir." "No more of them missing?" "Not on your--no, sir." The great man turned away to conceal a smile. "I've been seeing your brother to-day," remarked he. "_Bob?_" Mr. Crowninshield nodded. "Yes. We went over to the Seaver Bay wireless station." The lad waited. "You have a very fine brother, youngster, and one whom you may well be proud of." "Yes, sir." (What was the use of telling him that? His Highness knew what a corker Bob was without being told. Much better tell him what had happened at Seaver Bay, what the detectives said, and whether Lola had been found!) "We had, in fact, quite a talk with your brother." "Yes, sir." The reply came automatically. "He was able to furnish us with much information regarding the man we are chasing up." "Yes, sir." "Yes," ruminated Mr. Crowninshield with evident satisfaction, "we have the thief sketched in quite clearly." "Yes, sir." "With the details your brother gave us Dacie and Lyman have a most encouraging foundation on which to work." "Have they found out anything yet, sir?" The question would out despite all Walter could do to stop it. He knew the instant it had left his tongue that he shouldn't have asked it and he stood there hot and embarrassed at his own audacity. Much to his surprise, however, Mr. Crowninshield did not appear to be in the least offended. On the contrary he seemed pleased by the lad's eager interest and smiled at him kindly. "Yes, we've found out something," said he, "but it is not very good news, I am sorry to say. Dacie and Lyman traced the car that carried Lola as far as Buzzard's Bay and discovered that there----" "Yes?" interrupted Walter, so intent on the story that he was unconscious of interrupting. "There," repeated Mr. Crowninshield, "the thieves embarked on a private yacht that awaited their coming; steamed through the Canal, and----" "Don't say they are gone, sir!" cried the boy. "I'm afraid so, sonny." "Well, if that isn't the limit!" "It is, indeed," rejoined the elder man heartily. His Highness had staggered back against the door in consternation. If Mr. Crowninshield had affirmed that the thieves had taken flight in an aeroplane he could not have been more astonished than by the turn affairs had taken. "What do you suppose they'll do now?" demanded he. "We've no idea. They may make for New York, Boston, or some other port where they think they will be safe. There is no way of knowing. Or it may be that the person who hired them to get Lola is on the yacht and having now secured what he has been in search of he may simply cruise about and not land at all for months. Anything is possible." "Could they get the name of the boat?" "Yes, she's called the _Siren_." "Then I should think it would be easy enough to track her down, board her, and bring Lola away," said Walter. "It sounds simple, doesn't it?" Mr. Crowninshield returned. "But I am afraid it is not going to be as easy as that. We have no way of proving that Lola is aboard the yacht, in the first place. Moreover, even did we know that she was there, there are a thousand and one places where she could be hidden and defy discovery. And were the villains actually cornered nothing would be less difficult than to wring the puppie's neck and throw her overboard so that nothing would remain to identify the wretches with their crime." "Scott!" "You see now that to recover Lola is not such an easy matter." "I'm afraid not, sir," was the dispirited response. Mr. Crowninshield glanced at the dejected figure before him. "We mustn't give up beaten yet, however," affirmed he, struggling to be cheerful. "The game isn't up, you know. Dacie and Lyman are clever men and I have given them a free rein as to money. If there is anything to be done they ought to be able to accomplish it." Nevertheless optimistic as the words were it was plain to see that Mr. Crowninshield was not really as sanguine as he would have Walter think. There was a pucker of annoyance about the corners of his mouth, and his eyes looked dull and discouraged. Say what he might His Highness knew without being told that deep down in his heart of hearts Lola's master had resigned himself to never seeing her again. For a few seconds the capitalist lingered, musing. Then he broke the stillness, hurling a bomb into the air with the words: "By the by, I have made your brother an offer. I've suggested that he leave Seaver Bay and come here. I am going to give Dick a radio set for his birthday and I should like the aid of an expert in rigging it up. Besides, last season I installed a wireless on my yacht and shall need some one to operate it. This Bob of yours is precisely the sort of chap I want." "Oh, Mr. Crowninshield!" was all Walter could stammer. "You'd like having him here then?" "You bet your--yes, sir, I would," gasped His Highness, making a dash after his manners. "That's good," remarked the financier, much amused. "I hope he'll decide to come. You must use your influence to persuade him." This time Walter did not forget his etiquette. "I will, sir," replied he meekly. CHAPTER XI THE DECISION That night when his day's duties had been discharged and he was free, the first thing His Highness did was to pen a much blotted and somewhat incoherent note to Seaver Bay. Almost every sentence of it was underlined and some of the persuasive adjectives and verbs were even emphasized in red pencil. Certainly what the epistle lacked in neatness and beauty of appearance was compensated for in sincerity and earnestness. This document mailed and reinforced by an ardent appeal over the telephone, there was nothing to do but possess one's soul of patience until Bob decided what it was best for him to do. To throw up a government job with practically assured employment for a private venture which might be of short duration seemed madness and the young radio man with his level head and sober judgment was not one to leap at a decision. Carefully he weighed the pros and cons and while he did so Walter, and even Mr. Crowninshield himself, fidgeted. His Highness would not have hesitated a moment; and that any one should do so appeared to him incomprehensible. As for the master of Surfside who was accustomed to having his business offers snapped up the instant they were made, the younger man's deliberation piqued his interest and respect as almost nothing else could have done. He had thought the terms suggested very generous and had expected them to be seized with avidity. It was something new to have a penniless youth waver as to whether to accept or reject them. In the meantime while the days passed no tidings came from the New York detectives and the dwellers at Surfside were compelled to settle down to their customary routine and put Lola's disappearance out of their minds. Gardeners toiled, flowers blossomed, Jerry mugged about with his misty blue eyes following every seed that was planted, every turn the lawn mower made; they followed, too, what Walter was doing and saw to it that the dogs were well cared for and that his young protégé neglected nothing. Walter saw little of Dick now, for the house was filled with guests and the place humming with laughter and the rush of unending sports and picnics. There were tennis tournaments, golf matches, swimming races, regattas when small fleets of knockabouts maneuvered in the bay. In the midst of such a whirl of merriment it taxed all one's forbearance to be nothing more than the boy who cared for the dogs. On one particularly fine, bracing June morning after the lad had returned from a solitary cross-country tramp with Achilles and the rest of the pack, his lot seemed to him especially unenviable. There was evidently to be a ball game. College boys with crimson H's on their shirts; men with a blue Y; together with a group of short-sleeved players not yet honored with insignia from their universities were hurrying out to the lawn with bats, balls, and catcher's mitts. "You must pitch for the Blues, Dabney," called one fellow to another. "Who's going to catch for the Crimson team?" piped another. "I choose to play for Yale," came shrilly from another man who was lounging across the grass in immaculate white flannels. "Come on and help Harvard along, Cheever," put in a strident voice. "Not on your sweet life!" bawled Cheever, with a vehemence that made everybody laugh. "Goodness knows she needs help; but I'm not going to be the one to offer it." Again there was a good-humored shout from the bustling throng. "I'll line up with Yale to beat you though," Cheever added with a chuckle. "You can line up, you shrimp, but we're going to do the beating," retorted an ardent Harvard supporter. So the banter went on while the nines were being organized. At length, however, there was a shout of dismay. "We're lacking one man," announced the captain of the Crimsons, with sudden consternation. "Haven't you another chap who can play, Dick?" "Nobody, I'm afraid, unless you want to haul in some of the chauffeurs," Dick answered idly. "Jove! That's hard luck. We've got to have a shortstop. What are we going to do?" "Wasn't there a boy around here somewhere this morning with the dogs? It seems to me I saw somebody--a stocky little chap with a snub nose." The description was not flattering and Walter winced. "Oh, that was King, who has charge of the kennels," replied Dick quickly. "I'm afraid he hasn't come back with the bunch of poodles yet." "Yes, he has. I saw him skulking round the garage just now. Can't we drum him up?" "Sure, if you can find him." "There he is!" cried Cheever. "I say, you master of the hounds, come on over here. We want you." Blushing red His Highness approached the noisy group. "Did you ever play baseball, kid?" inquired the captain of the Harvard team. "I believe so--once or twice," answered Walter soberly. "Want to come in with us as shortstop?" "Sure!" "I've a glove that will fit him," put in a man called Richardson. With scant ceremony His Highness was hustled into it and before he sensed what he was doing he was yelling with the rest, and head over ears in as exciting a game of ball as he had ever participated in. There were excellent players on both teams and the scoring ran so even that it was a toss-up who would win. From jest the game dropped into deadly earnestness. "It's your turn at the bat, Stubby," asserted Richardson to Walter unceremoniously. "Now remember who you're playing for. Don't hand Yale the game if you can help it." "I'll do my best," was the modest reply as the lad gripped the bat, then rubbed his hands in the dirt to make his hold more certain. The pitcher twirled a ball. "One strike!" droned the umpire. Again the leather disc spun through the air. "Two strikes," called the warning voice. "Great Scott, Stubbie, look out. Don't waste strokes like that, you boob. Let the things go by if they don't suit you. You don't _have_ to hit them." Once more the ball spun through the air. A smart crack followed and up into the blue leaped the ball, defying the pursuit of catcher or baseman. "Beat it into home plate, George!" coached the captain excitedly. "Move along, you fellows! It's a run for Stubbie! Slide in, Stubbie! Pick up your heels and sprint! Go it! Go it! Keep out of the way, you chaps. Hurray! Bully for you, kid! A beauty! _Harvard! Harvard! Harvard!_ Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah, _Harvard_!" The familiar cheer echoed loud above the shouting. "That lays them out! They're dead men!" cried Richardson triumphantly. "Where did you learn to play ball, young one?" "It's no fair borrowing a professional," the Yale leader objected, trying to make a joke of his defeat. "Jove, but that was a pretty hit!" Dick said quietly to Walter. "A peach!" "You're all right son!" affirmed the Harvard catcher. "Any time you are out of a job I'll recommend you to the Braves." A general laugh went up. Altogether the morning was a glorious day of comradeship, nor did it lessen His Highness's happiness when he returned to his quarters to see disembarking from Mr. Crowninshield's motor car the familiar form of Bob. "I brought your brother back from Seaver Bay with me," explained the financier. "It took him so long to make up his mind whether he'd come here or not that I went over there to-day to find out whether he was dead or alive." Mr. Crowninshield was plainly enjoying Walter's amazement. "And you've come to stay?" His Highness, all delight and confusion, contrived to stammer. "So they tell me," Bob laughed. He was a tall, handsome fellow with a grave mouth and thoughtful brown eyes; and when he spoke it was in a voice low and pleasing to the ear. "Oh, Bob and I have lots of secrets we haven't let you into, little chap," affirmed the master of Surfside gaily. "I never was so surprised!" gasped Walter. "We meant you should be. Your brother settled everything up over the telephone a day or two ago." "But, Bob, I don't see how you managed to get away from Seaver Bay so soon. You said it would probably be weeks before they could act on your resignation, even should you send it in, and afterward they would have to find some one to take your place." "Luck came my way," Bob replied. "The government was closing the Bell Reef station and they simply shifted the two men who were there over to our place." "Did you and O'Connel both decide to leave?" Bob's eyes twinkled. "O'Connel has just answered an advertisement as operator aboard a private yacht," said he, exchanging a glance with Mr. Crowninshield. Evidently there was some jest between them that amused them vastly. Curiously Walter looked from one to the other. "Better tell him, Bob," murmured the New Yorker in a low tone. "Why you see, kid, O'Connel had a chance to go as wireless man aboard the _Siren_." "Not--not the yacht that has Lola on it!" "The very same--at least we hope it has Lola." "But--but--I don't understand," muttered His Highness as if dazed. "Evidently, so far as we can make it out, the _Siren_ passed through the Canal and not daring to land, cruised along the coast where she must have met with rough weather. Of course that is purely surmise on the detective's part. Anyhow, her radio operator broke his arm and had to be replaced by another man so they advertised for some one. Luckily Dacie saw the item in the want column of the New York paper and set O'Connel on the job. The arrangements have all been by letter through the general mail delivery of New York so we still have no notion as to where the _Siren_ is. On Tuesday, however, O'Connel is to go over to New York, an agent is to meet him, and he is to be told where to go." "And I suppose Mr. Dacie or Mr. Lyman will be on hand and go along too to nail their man!" cried the delighted Walter. "Not so fast, son," returned Mr. Crowninshield. "We are not going to track them down so close and scare them off at the outset. No, we sha'n't send any one with O'Connel. He'll go and meet the agent and follow up directions precisely as if he knew nothing about Lola. With Bob here operating a wireless and O'Connel in constant communication with him, we will have all the inside information we're after. O'Connel can soon let us know where the yacht is; whether Lola is aboard of her; and exactly when and where the owners of the _Siren_ are proposing to land. They can't make a move which we shall not know about in a flash. A pretty neat arrangement, I call it!" The New York magnate rubbed his hands together softly. "Gee! Well, Mr. Lyman and Mr. Dacie have sure been busy!" was Walter's comment. "You do not mention that I, too, have been busy," chuckled Mr. Crowninshield. "While you have been chasing the dogs over the fields and playing baseball," he winked at Bob, "I have been telephoning to the city for a radio set--a corking fine one--for Dick's birthday. Bob, here, is going to install it with the aid of some New York electricians. It should be all in place inside a few days. Then if O'Connel has any messages for us we shall be ready for him. In the meantime Bob is going to break in you youngsters so that you or Dick can listen in and get any news that may come when he is off duty or aboard the yacht. If those fellows who bagged Lola think themselves so all-fired clever they will find they are mistaken. I did not go into this game to be beaten." Mr. Crowninshield squared his jaw with bulldog resolution. "Now you and Bob trot off and have a visit together. Show him where his quarters will be. There is a room beside you where Jerry says he can bunk," continued the master of the estate. "Until the apparatus arrives from New York there won't be much he can do, so you better take the chance to go home and see your mother to-night--both of you. By to-morrow or the next day at the latest the electricians should be here with their stuff. Then things will hum!" With a jaunty wave of his hand Mr. Crowninshield wheeled about and Bob and Walter were left alone. CHAPTER XII LESSONS The joy of Mrs. King when she was informed that both her sons were to be all summer at Surfside cannot be pictured. "Why, it is like a dream or an answer to prayer!" ejaculated she. "Think of having you so near! Now were Bob to be electrocuted, I could get to him within half an hour." The fact evidently caused her profound satisfaction and each of her sons laughed. "I'm not planning to end my days by electrocution," smiled Bob. "Few do plan to," was the grim retort. "But anyway, whether or no, it is wonderful to have you so close at hand. I shall feel as if I had a great prop behind me." "I hope so, Mater," Bob said affectionately. "I suppose you'll not have much time to be spending at home, though," mused the mother presently. "Your work, likely, will keep you busy." "I expect it will, especially during the next fortnight," Bob answered. "There will be all the apparatus to set up and get into working order; and in addition the equipment aboard the yacht must be overhauled. I want both wireless outfits in perfect condition for much depends on their being trim and tight." "It isn't probable you'll have much to handle that is important," declared Mrs. King. "It won't be like dealing with government messages or wrecks." The two boys exchanged a glance. Much as they wished to they dared not initiate their mother into the secrets of Surfside. "You never can tell what messages you'll catch by wireless," Bob returned ambiguously. "Besides, Mr. Crowninshield intends to have some of his business relayed to him from New York." "Oh!" "I guess I shall find plenty to do," the elder boy remarked. "Well, I reckon you will at that rate. But do be careful, won't you? And don't let Walter go dabbling with those evil wires." "I'll look out for him." The evasive answer did not, however, satisfy the woman. "Surely you don't mean to start Walter in learning about wireless, do you?" "I may give him a few lessons, yes." "Now don't you do it," retorted Mrs. King in spirited protest. "He was always a blunderer and were he to go messing about with electrical currents I should not have a happy moment. It is bad enough to have one of you in constant danger without two." "But it isn't dangerous," Walter interrupted. "Much you know about it," declared his mother, wheeling on him with scorn. "What experience have you had with radio, pray?" Meekly the lad closed his lips. "I am going to give some lessons to Mr. Crowninshield's son, Mater, and it seemed to me it was a good chance for Walter to learn something, too," Bob responded gently. "Sometime the kid might find it useful to have such knowledge. You never can tell. Nothing we learn is ever wasted." "No, I suppose not," was the grudging reply. "Well, just stand over him and see that he doesn't kill himself." "I've no desire to have him killed." "No more you have. Of course not," Mrs. King smiled. "But you know if there is any way of crossing the wires he'll do it. He's made that way. Still, unlucky as he is, I'd not care to lose him." Fondly she beamed on the ill-starred Walter. "I'll keep at his elbow, Mother," said Bob soothingly. "I know you will. You were ever good to your brother." She patted the big fellow's hand. "And mind the pair of you come to see me when you can. You'll be busy, I know; but you mustn't forget your mother." "We'll not do that," cried the boys in chorus. Nevertheless in spite of the promise there were few opportunities during the next few days for either of them to go a-visiting. The New York electricians arrived and with them came aerials, generators, detectors, tuners, insulators, amplifiers, and all the hundred and one parts necessary for a perfectly equipped radio station. Mr. Crowninshield had indulged in no cheap outfit. On the contrary he had purchased the best there was to be had and as the coils of copper wire, glistening wire rope, and spotless porcelain insulators were unpacked Bob's eyes sparkled with anticipation. With the touch of a connoisseur he handled the materials, examining the quality of each. What was Greek to the others was familiar ground to him. A low building adjoining the boathouse had been hurriedly constructed and it was here, where the new station was to be situated, that an interested audience congregated daily. Perched on an overturned packing case Mr. Crowninshield surveyed the installment of the novel toy which was not only to gratify Dick's birthday longings but also, he hoped, bring to him the information he coveted concerning Lola. Much as he knew about stocks and bonds he was as much of a novice in the presence of things electrical as were either his son or Walter King, and therefore to their avalanche of questions he added still others, gratefully accepting the information Bob offered with the eagerness of one who is not too superior to learn. "What is that thing they are putting in place now?" inquired he. "And what is it for?" "Oh, even I can answer that, Dad!" cried the delighted Dick. "That is the aerial or antenna and it catches the wireless waves as they travel through the air. The higher and longer it is the better, so far as messages are concerned--that is, within certain limits." His father's eyes twinkled. "Where did you pick up so much knowledge?" chuckled he. "Bob told me." "I'll be bound he did," sniffed the man. "I wasn't asking about the antenna, though. Green as I am I recognized that. It was that other wire that interested me." "The lead in?" asked Bob quickly. "I guess so, although I never was introduced to it by name before." Everybody laughed at the naive reply. "The lead in, sir, is the conductor that carries the wireless waves from the aerial into the house. The idea is not to have it too long. It must run as directly as possible and be very carefully insulated from any buildings, trees, or masts because of the current." "I see. And that other thing?" "That is the lightning arrester. It can be fastened inside or outside the station, as is most convenient; but it is compulsory to have it to satisfy the insurance companies. The antenna is secured to it and by means of a ground wire any electrical discharges will in a great measure pass off through the earth." "Mater should see that," murmured Walter mischievously to Bob. The elder brother nodded humorously. "The ground helps a lot in radio work," continued he. "In fact were it not for good old Mother Earth furnishing her aid, we should have no wireless at all. One side of our circuit passes through the ground and the other half, which completes it, goes through the air between the aerials of the different stations. Therefore you can readily see that it is most important to make sure of a good earth connection. Often city water pipes are resorted to, the contact being made by soldering a wire to the water faucet. Down here on the Cape, however, where there are only wells and windmills we shall have to sink some metal plates in the ground and connect the wires with these." "And that is all that goes outside the building?" "Yes, sir. The lead in brings the wires into the station and they are then connected up with the receiver. Sometimes there are separate antennæ for sending and receiving messages. Of course the big stations always have two. But for a place this size and doing such a small amount of business we can send and receive from the same wire. With a tuner, which can be tuned to bring you into the same key with the station you are listening to; a detector to catch the signal after the persons talking have been brought into tune; and an amplifier that intensifies or increases the sound you have your receiving outfit. Batteries you know about without my telling you; and the head 'phones too, which you have of course seen telephone operators wear hundreds of times." "Yes, I believe I should recognize one of those," laughed Mr. Crowninshield. "So that is all there is to it, eh?" "That is about all there is to receiving, yes." "The sending part of the machine is more complicated, is it?" "Yes, sir. And so is the job," smiled Bob. "I mean to learn to transmit as well as receive," put in Dick. His Highness grinned derisively. "Do you indeed!" said he. "Well, there is nothing like aiming high. But I guess for the present you'll be pretty well content if you get so you can take down the Morse code as it comes in." "Is it so hard?" "That depends on how good you are at memorizing dots and dashes. French verbs are nothing compared to it." "I hadn't thought of learning to read code." "You have to, son, if you are going into wireless. With a tutor here on the spot, it should not be difficult. Besides, that is half the fun. I want you to learn this thing intelligently and not just make a plaything of it. I've done my part by buying you the best outfit there was to be had. The rest is up to you." "That's square, Dick," chimed in Walter. "Sure it is. I'll go to it and do my darndest, too, Dad," returned the boy. "That's the proper spirit!" exclaimed his father. His Highness smiled with ironic satisfaction. "If Bob is to tutor you you will study harder than you ever did in your precious life," whispered he. "I know Bob. He can be stiff as any college professor. He tutored me in Latin once to pull me through my exams and I barely lived. I don't envy you, old man." "Gee! Will it be that bad?" "You will get all the wireless coming to you, that's all. Take it from me," was the teasing rejoinder. "Oh, I hope he won't bone down as hard as that," wailed Dick dolefully. "I want to get some sport out of this thing. I wasn't planning to be turned into a galley slave during hot weather." Seeing that he had his victim thoroughly terrified Walter thought it time to shift the jest. "Don't fret. I was only jollying, old chap," declared he. "Bob won't really stand over you with a whip. He is the best fellow alive. Still, he will expect you to work if you set out to do so. He is always terribly in earnest about whatever he undertakes. I suppose that is why he has got on so well and never failed to make a success of what he has tried to do. You can count on him to duff into this job with the same spirit. You'll get your money's worth of instruction, you may be sure, if he has been hired to give it." Dick shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I guess I can stand it if he is not too rough on me," responded he. "I do not mind studying so much if it is about a subject I like; and I am crazy about wireless." [Illustration: "You will get all the wireless coming to you, that's all. Take it from me." _Page_ 154.] "Oh, it isn't the wireless part I object to," drawled His Highness. "It is that dot and dash code that gets me. I never could learn it if I tried ten years; and as for taking twenty words a minute in any language--well, they could have the whole outfit before I'd do it." "I shall be interested to see what speed I can make," mused Dick. "Speed! You won't make any speed at all--at least not at first, so do not hope or expect to. If you even get the words correctly you will be going some," sniffed Walter. "Still, I guess you need not worry for the present about receiving or sending messages for Bob will give you a lot to think about before that. As for the Morse code, you may not meet it for weeks." "What do you mean?" Dick inquired. "Oh, Bob will get right down to brass tacks at the start and find out what you know about electricity and wireless anyway. That is the way he did to me when he tutored me in Latin. He wasn't content with just translating Caesar but must needs splash right into Roman history and make me hunt up everything I could find about the Goths and the rest of those heathen tribes. Gee, but he made me sweat! He will do that with you and your wireless. If you think you are going to begin taking messages in code you don't know Bob." Having delivered himself of these brotherly appreciations His Highness walked away, leaving Dick to ponder on the joyous prospects they contained. His sinister prediction Richard Crowninshield soon found to be true. Thorough was no name for Bob King. Before a week had passed Dick whimsically remarked to his father that it must be a task to Bob to swim on the top of the sea without diving down with a spy glass and examining every particle that was on the ocean's bottom. The fact that the new tutor never dipped into any subject but instead explored it greatly delighted Mr. Crowninshield. "I shouldn't mind letting that young chap tutor me a little," observed he half jestingly to his wife. "I am as vague as a fog when it comes to this wireless business. I should get a lot of information if I listened in on Dick's lessons." The words, idly spoken, much to the amusement of all became a reality. After drifting in to the first talk Mr. Crowninshield came to the second lesson and from then on he became a regular pupil. "You needn't be afraid I have come here to criticize," explained he with appealing simplicity. "I'm green as grass and have come to learn." "It is just that you have not had the time to take up radio, sir," was Bob's modest answer. "We all have our specialties." "That's right," agreed the capitalist. "Sometimes I fall to wondering whether it is better to know something about everything or everything about something." "To know something about everything would be spreading it pretty thin, I am afraid," was Bob's characteristic reply. "That wouldn't do for you, eh?" remarked Mr. Crowninshield with a chuckle. "It would not satisfy me; no, sir. As it is I cannot begin to master what there is to be known concerning this one branch of science. Were my head to be filled with a little of everything I should feel as if it were a grab bag." "Many heads are," was the laughing retort. "Still, with each successive generation rolling up its accumulation of knowledge the intellectual snowball is getting to be of ponderous size. History's remedy for this malady has always been to knock the whole structure to pieces every now and then and begin again. Perhaps we shall have to have another period of the Dark Ages and another Renaissance to set us right." Thoughtfully he puffed his cigar. "This wireless now--think of the new fields it has opened up. Not only are our ships equipped so that they can send and receive all sorts of messages, get their location, be informed concerning harbor entrances and coast lines; set their compasses and clocks but soon wireless telephones will be installed in the staterooms of all passenger steamers so that those crossing the ocean can talk with their friends ashore any time they may elect to do so. Of course there are times when such a thing might have its advantages; but for tired people--doctors and the like--who are trying to get to a spot where they cannot be reached by business cares it will be a negative sort of blessing. I, myself, for example, always count on my stay on shipboard as a sort of vacation, an interval when nobody can bother me with office matters. But if in future I must have a wireless telephone at my bedside I shall be no more isolated than I should have been had I remained at home. Pretty soon there will be no place under the sun where a man can go and get peace and quiet. The Maine woods will be full of radio outfits and the tops of distant mountains in touch with the stock market. Even an aeroplane carries its wireless. It is hideous to contemplate!" he sighed. "As for city life, we shall be beset wherever we go. And if the fashion set by some of our city police of having wires tucked away in uniforms and a wireless receiver carried in the pocket prevails in due time even when we walk the streets we shall all be in constant touch with our particular headquarters." At his rueful expression Bob could not but laugh. "There certainly is no question that a great day for wireless is coming," replied he. "Whether we like it or not the thing has come to stay and as yet we have only half discovered what can be done with it. It is undoubtedly rough on those who want isolation. But most people don't. They are glad to feel, for instance, that the ocean is so small they can talk with their friends while they are crossing it. Besides, you must not forget how much good ship surgeons and doctors can now do for those who otherwise would have no aid at hand. Remote lighthouses and small ships that need medical service often signal the big liners now and ask advice of the ship's doctor. I heard a little while ago of a lighthouse keeper whose leg was amputated under the wireless direction of one of our great surgeons. Had instructions not been available the man would probably have died of blood poison. And many times there is sickness aboard small vessels that are out to sea. They signal the symptoms of their patients and the doctor hundreds of miles away replies with a remedy. As all boats carry medicine chests the distant physician can easily designate what dose to give." "That is a fine idea!" nodded Mr. Crowninshield. "I hadn't thought of treating illness by radio. A bit tough on the doctor, though. It must keep him busy." "I am afraid it does. In fact some of the ship's surgeons are demanding higher pay because of the rush of work put on them. To have the health of a large ship under one's supervision is task enough without treating all the people sailing the ocean. They say some doctors are all in after a trip simply because of the extra calls that pour in from outside ships and stations. It keeps them hopping day and night, for of course no decent doctor will ever refuse aid to those who are suffering." "Humph! That is quite a new phase of wireless." "It proves it can save life not only at a time of shipwreck but in other crises as well," Bob responded with enthusiasm. "Now all that remains is for some clever fellow to come along who shall find a remedy for the difficulties that baffle the radio man. Then the science will come into its own. We must get rid of static interference--our greatest bugbear." "Come, come, son! You must not spring any of your technical terms on me. Remember that while I am old in years I am still young in radio knowledge. Before you go slipping those phrases jauntily off your tongue you have got to begin at the very beginning and tell us the laws on which the radio telephone is based." "That is a rather big order, sir," Bob replied modestly. "However, I am willing to try to fill it. I can at least pass on to you all that I know myself." "That will satisfy me," affirmed the capitalist. "I see no reason, either, why your young brother cannot arrange his work so that he can join our class. The more the merrier. I even propose to drag in my wife and daughter. If in future we are to have wireless apparatus wherever we go it will be unintelligent not to know something about it." "I am afraid it is going to pursue us pretty much to every corner of the earth," smiled Bob gravely. "You see, one of its great advantages is that it can go where the telephone with its myriad wires and poles cannot. It would be out of the question, for example, to string telephone wires through densely wooded sections and to the tops of high mountains, and even if the impossible could be accomplished the expense of keeping such lines in proper repair would be so great that no one could afford to shoulder it. Poles rot and wires rust out with wear and exposure to weather. Then there is the damage from gales, ice-storms, and falling timber. Even under the best of conditions linemen would be kept busy all the time repairing the equipment. And as if these difficulties were not great enough in times of peace think of the added burden of protecting miles and miles of telephone wires in time of war. Contrast with this the small district to be protected when it comes to a wireless station. Instead of having soldiers scattered through miles of territory the few needed can be concentrated within easy reach of provisions and reinforcements. And the same advantages that the radio telephone has on land prevail as well at sea for transmission of messages by cable is a frightfully expensive thing. Not only is the laying of such a line difficult, dangerous, and costly, but to maintain it is expensive and hard as well. In time of war it is particularly at a disadvantage since the cable can be cut and all communication with the outside world easily severed. Wireless, on the other hand, is not dependent on any such extravagant equipment. It finds its own way through air, water, and earth with very little help from us; and if it has its defects we must not forget that the first telephones were far from perfect, and that both telephone and cable have also their disadvantages." CHAPTER XIII INFORMATION FROM A NEW SOURCE During the interval when the new radio station was being put in order and the parts of the outfit assembled Bob King and the two city electricians toiled early and late. They scarcely stopped to eat, so feverish was their haste. Mr. Crowninshield had let it be known that if the wireless apparatus was in condition to send and receive messages within a week he would add to the regular wages of the mechanics a generous bonus and this incentive was sufficient to cause the avaricious workmen to transgress the laws of the labor unions and forget any fatigue they may have experienced. As for Bob he was far too eager to get into touch with O'Connel and the _Siren_ to covet extra pay for rushing through the installment of the new service. A private signal had been agreed upon between him and his former associate and also an hour set when each day the operator aboard the yacht was to call him. O'Connel was to allow seven days for the work at Surfside to be finished and then his messages were to begin and both Mr. Crowninshield and his alert employee meant to be ready for him. Hence Bob whipped on his helpers, using every ray of daylight that could be turned to the purpose and much of the night. Even after everything was placed and connected up there would yet remain a great deal of testing out and tinkering before the set would be in perfect working condition and it was for this delay he was preparing. Much to his surprise, however, the parts went together with astonishingly little trouble. They had been well made and fitted perfectly. Everything needed was at hand and in consequence there was no sending to the city for materials and waiting until they could be shipped. Therefore as the allotted time sped by the job that accompanied it moved rapidly to its end. "We are going to make it, sir," ejaculated Bob with shining eyes, beaming enthusiastically on the master of the estate. "She will be all set up and working by Saturday. That is the day O'Connel was to make his first try to get into communication with us. I can hardly wait to hear what he has to say." "I am pretty anxious to know myself," returned the elder man. "If he can get a message through we should then find out where the yacht is and whether Lola is aboard her." "I'm crazy to learn what has become of the villains who pinched the dog," added Bob. "Do you take it they are still cruising with the boat?" "Oh, they must have been paid off and landed somewhere," was the answer. "There would be no sense in detaining the thieves on the ship until now. It would only mean paying them and having them to feed; besides one does not care to make two rascals members of a house party." "You think they have escaped us then." "If by escaping you mean getting to the city yes," nodded Mr. Crowninshield. "But I do not feel at all sure with Dacie and Lyman on their track that they will be entirely safe and unmolested in town. Those detectives are like bloodhounds and will run them down no matter where they may be hiding. The mere fact that they have got to New York or Boston will not be much protection." "You intend to get them then as well as to recover Lola." "I certainly do," retorted Mr. Crowninshield with emphasis. "I am going to recover my property, jail the thieves, and bring the people who received the stolen goods to justice." "They have a week's start of us," Bob observed doubtfully. "But we have not been idle all that time, man, Dacie and Lyman have been working; O'Connel has been using his eyes and ears--I hope; and we have this wireless set up." "Yes, we have certainly accomplished something," admitted Bob. "Accomplished something! I should say we had! Besides, this is not the sort of case one need hurry on. Nothing is going to be done suddenly," explained the financier. "Having got the dog the people on the yacht will move at their leisure. They do not fear that any one is at their heels chasing them up. Furthermore the sea offers unending concealment for their crime should they be pursued and trapped. It is the thieves themselves who are the scapegoats and the ones in danger, according to their reckoning." "I suppose so," agreed Bob. "Still, I cannot help wishing we might have got after them without even these few days intervening." "You forget, my son, that our wireless is going to cover space so quickly that hereafter we shall have our information very quickly and shall be exactly as well off as most detectives used to be in double the time." "Yes, that is so." "Once we are in touch with O'Connel we can know every thought they think aboard the _Siren_ as soon as they have thought it." The uncertainties that clouded the younger man's face vanished. "That's right," smiled he. "From now on we should be able to checkmate them pretty neatly." Mr. Crowninshield put his finger to his lips significantly. The two city electricians were approaching. "Well, sir," began the foreman, "I guess your wireless tests out pretty near right; we've signalled our home company and got a reply from New York clear as a bell. With this chap at hand," he motioned to Bob, "you won't be needing us much longer, I reckon." "Have you got to rush back to another job?" questioned the financier. "Well, there is always plenty to do," grinned the man good-humoredly. "You couldn't remain over a few days and overhaul my yacht, could you? She is anchored out in the bay close at hand. If you could be tightening things aboard her and seeing everything is right I would keep this young man at this shore station." "Why--" the mechanic hesitated, fingering the roll of bills that stuffed his pocket. "Why," repeated he, "I imagine we could fix things up with the boss and stick round until whatever you wanted done was completed, sir." "Arrange it then. Get the yacht into condition quickly so we can put to sea any day now that we choose." "We'll do that, Mr. Crowninshield," responded the men in chorus. "Unless there is a lot to do to the outfit--" "There isn't. It was all new in the fall; and we have been in Florida this winter too, so the ship has been in commission and constantly taken care of." "In that case there will probably be little repairing," nodded the spokesman. "Maybe tightening and oiling, and a few small parts to be replaced." "That is about it." "Couldn't I--" Bob began but Mr. Crowninshield held up a cautioning finger. "I'd rather have you on shore," announced he quietly. Then turning to the electricians he added, "I suppose the radio aboard the yacht does not differ much from this set. There will be nothing but what you can handle." "Nothing, sir; nothing at all," was the answer. "Besides, we are quite familiar with shipboard equipment. We do a lot of such work. Just before we came down here we went down to Long Island and put the _Siren_, a very fine steam yacht, into shape." "The _Siren_, eh?" repeated Mr. Crowninshield as indifferently as he could. "Yes, sir. Perhaps you know the boat, sir." "I've never been aboard her," replied the capitalist slowly. "She belongs to----" "To Mr. Daly, sir. As fine a yacht as was ever in the water." Daly! At the name both Bob and his employer started. It was the very man Mr. Crowninshield had suspected. "So Daly has a place down on Long Island, has he?" drawled he. "Oh, no, sir. Mr. Daly's place is on an island off the Maine coast. He had just put in at the Long Island port for some minor repairs. He said he was going to cruise a while this summer and wanted to be sure everything was shipshape before going to Maine. The mate told me they were waiting to pick up some people at Buzzard's Bay." "Going to take the yacht through the Canal?" "Yes." "An interesting trip," observed Mr. Crowninshield slowly. "That Canal is quite a time saver for New Yorkers." He yawned and started to move away. Bob held his breath, waiting. "I suppose you don't know where Daly was going for his cruise," inquired he over his shoulder. "No, sir, I don't," was the response of the workman who seemed flattered at having aroused this degree of interest in his story. "I believe, though, that before they started they were to put into Newport for provisions." Newport! Then it was doubtless Newport where O'Connel was to be taken aboard! Bob dared not raise his eyes lest the excitement that danced in them be detected. "And after provisioning up there Daly was to cruise, eh?" called Mr. Crowninshield. "Well, the Atlantic is wide and he will have plenty of room." "That's right, sir," chuckled the mechanic, delighted by the condescension of the great man whom all New Yorkers knew by reputation. Think of hobnobbing in this pleasant fashion with one of the big financiers of Wall Street! "How simple and kind a gentleman Mr. Crowninshield is!" commented he patronizingly after the capitalist was out of hearing. "And so artless!" Bob struggled not to smile. Kind Mr. Crowninshield might be but hardly simple. Certainly not artless. What a rare lot of amusing incidents the world contained! CHAPTER XIV BOB AS PEDAGOGUE The wireless was now in commission and the next morning, after having waited until the hour designated for O'Connel's signal and received no message, Bob and his pupils assembled for their first lesson, not in a stuffy room but on the broad, well-shaded veranda of Surfside. A cool breeze rippled the water, stirring it into tiny waves and as Dick dropped into one of the big wicker chairs he fidgeted to be out in the freshly-painted knockabout that bobbed invitingly at the float. His father intercepted his yearning glance and instantly interpreted it. "Come, now!" said he half playfully. "Quit making sheep's eyes at that boat, son. An hour's wireless lesson isn't going to cut your morning very short or prevent you from having plenty of time to sail, swim, or motor. Whether it does or not you've got to endure it. Your summer holiday is long enough in all conscience. If I had until October with nothing more arduous to do than put up with an hour's instruction early each day I should think myself almighty lucky." "I am lucky, Dad," conceded Dick quickly, "only----" "Lucky! I should say you were! You don't know what work means. Well, it was you who wanted this radio outfit. You were all for it and----" "I am for it still, Dad," interrupted Dick eagerly. "Then go to it and master it," retorted his father. "If you do not relish the lessons swallow them down for the sake of the fun you are going to have later; for if you are intelligent enough to handle your wireless with some brain and understanding you are going to enjoy it a hundred per cent. more in the end." "I know I shall," Dick agreed. "It is only that I am crazy to get at the thing itself." The boy's father shook his head. "You are like all your generation," said he severely. "Eager to leap the preliminaries and land at the top of the ladder with the first bound. It is an impatient age and the vice extends to the old as well as the young. Nobody wants to fit himself for anything nowadays. In my youth men expected to serve apprenticeships and did not hope to achieve a position until they had learned how to fill it. But now everybody leaps at the big job and the big salary that goes with it and blunders along, taking out his ignorance and lack of experience on the general public. As for you youngsters, you covet at fifteen everything that those who are fifty have. You want automobiles, boats, victrolas and radio telephones before you know how to run them, much less pay for them. Look at Bob, here. He is worth two of you for he can earn what he has. Often I tell myself I am a fool to indulge you and Nancy as I do. I ought by rights to make you do without what you want until you can foot the bill for it." Mr. Crowninshield took a few hasty paces across the piazza. "Still," added he, his voice softening, "I fancy that scheme would be a sight harder on me than on you, for I like nothing better than to get you what you want." For a moment he paused, looking fondly at his son. Then as if afraid of himself he bristled and continued: "But to return to this wireless--remember that if you do not learn something about it and how to use it I shall take it away. I mean it, mind!" "Yes, Dad," was the timid answer. With this awful alternative looming like a specter in his path was it to be wondered at that Dick resolutely turned his gaze from the allurements of the harbor and settled himself in the big chair with all his attention focussed on Bob King's radio lesson. Moreover, human nature is selfish enough to like company in its misery and were not his mother, Nancy and Walter consigned to the same fate as himself? Therefore the initial lesson began gayly. At first Bob, seated in the chair of state facing his class, was shy and embarrassed; but soon he forgot himself in his subject and losing his hesitancy he spoke with the authority of one who has mastered his art. "I am going to begin," said he, "just as they began with me at the radio station for I think if you get the principles of wireless at the outset you will find it much easier to understand it. And to do this we shall not start with wires, generators, detectors, or anything of that sort; instead we must go back of them all to the earth and the air, and learn how it is possible for sound to travel without the aid of human devices. For in reality there is something that takes the place of man-made wires. This is the ether. Surrounding the earth moves the air we breathe; and as we go higher this air becomes thinner and thinner until, by and by, a height is reached where the air gives place to ether, a sort of radiant energy that bridges the zone between the air space that encircles the earth and the sun, and brings to us its heat. This great sea of ether is made up of particles that are never still and which are so small that they get between every substance they encounter, thereby becoming a universal medium for transmitting light, heat, color and many other things to our earth. Without this body of ether, there would be no agency to pass on to us (as well as to the many other planets of our solar system and those outside it) the energy the sun generates, which is the thing that keeps us alive." Bob waited a moment to make sure that his point was clear and then proceeded: "Now this energy as it moves through the ether takes the form of waves; and these waves go out not in a single train but since the ether is continually disturbed by the sun, in series of wave trains that vary in frequency. Such waves are electromagnetic in character, and light, heat, sound, and the waves carrying wireless messages are all of a similar type, differing only in their relative rates of vibration. If unobstructed, and moving through free ether, all of them travel at practically the same velocity, that is about one hundred eighty-six thousand miles a second. When, however, they encounter other substances, as they are continually bound to do, this rate of velocity changes. The waves of sound, for example, sent out by the wireless telephone are very slow compared with the high-rate vibrations that produce waves resulting in light." Again the youthful teacher paused. "Now this constant turmoil in the ether which creates the magnetic area explains why the magnetized needle of a compass unfailingly points north and south. This one simple fact is a certain proof of its existence. And once granting a magnetic field to be there it is less difficult to understand how wireless waves are produced in this congenial medium and find their way through it, following in their journey the curve of the earth's surface." Bob smiled at his audience encouragingly. "If you can once get this wave law through your heads the rest is not hard," asserted he, "for the whole wireless system is based on wave motion." "With an ocean spread out before us we ought to be able to understand waves," interpolated Nancy. "We ought," nodded Bob. "And yet better than using the ocean as an illustration imagine a small pond. Think, instead, of a nice quiet little round pond if you can. Now when you chuck a stick or a pebble into that still water you know how the ripples will at once go out. There will be rings of them, and the bigger they get the fainter they will be. In other words, as the area widens the strength of the waves decreases; and as this same principle applies to radio you can see that it takes a lot of energy from a wireless station to reach a receiver a great distance away." "I've got that!" cried Dick with such spontaneity that every one laughed. "Wave lengths, however, have nothing to do with actual distance," went on Bob quickly. "Of course we think of the wave length as the distance between one ridge of water and another. There is, though, no law that would make it possible to translate these spaces into our scale of miles, for sometimes they are near together, sometimes far apart. Distance, therefore, depends on the speed with which the wave travels and the frequency with which the water is disturbed. If you keep tossing things in quick succession into the water you will get a correspondingly quick succession of waves. The law governing wireless waves is exactly the same. Their length depends on the velocity of the wave and the frequency of the oscillations that cause it. Or to put it another way, in order to reckon a wave length you must determine its velocity (which is not impossible when you remember that sound travels about one thousand one hundred and twenty feet every second) and the number of vibrations the particular note causing the wave is making per second. Now science has been able to compute just how many complete vibrations a certain note, key, or pitch as you may please to call it, makes each second, or how many times the particles of air vibrate back and forth when that especial note is sent out. "Suppose, for example, a note makes 240 complete vibrations a second while traveling 1,120 feet; if we divide 1,120 by 240 we shall get 4.66 as the wave length of this note. So it is the pitch to which a note is keyed that helps determine its distance; and the force employed to start the note sent out through the magnetic field. That is why a message projected into the ether from a high-power station carries a greater distance than one sent from a station where the power is weaker. It is by power and pitch, then, not by length that we gauge wireless waves. Do you see that?" A chorus of assent greeted the question. "That's bully!" Bob announced boyishly; then blushed at the undignified ejaculation. "Don't you be fussed, young man," smiled Mr. Crowninshield. "We're all of an age here." "I quite forgot," apologized the tutor. "That is exactly what I want you to do," returned the master of Surfside. "Ignore us old people. We are only listening in, anyway, and have no earthly right to be here." "Still, I wish to treat you with----" "It's all right, Bob. We understand," put in Mrs. Crowninshield reassuringly. "Well, then, if you will excuse me I'm off again," replied the boy. "And now that we've got wave lengths settled to our satisfaction we must remember some other things. One is that sound travels not only through the air but through the water. In fact, sounds are louder under water than they are above it. Water is not only a better medium for carrying sound but also, since it contains fewer obstructions, sound waves travel farther through it. Another thing which we must not forget is that our ears do not hear all the sounds that go on about us. The merciful Lord has arranged that when there are less than twenty-four vibrations a second, or more than forty thousand they escape us. But a wireless instrument, on the contrary is spared nothing, having attached to it a detector that catches every sound and an amplifier that magnifies it and makes it discernible to our ears. When you listen in on a wireless telephone you will be uncontestably conscious of this. Also you must take into consideration that the waves sent out by a radio transmitter are not choppy, irregular ones such as you get when a stone is tossed into the water; wireless waves go out in regular, well-formed relays that neither overlap nor obscure one another. Were this not so the signals made would be jumbled together and utterly unintelligible." "Sure they would!" Bob's young brother nodded. "Now to insure these several results we are compelled to resort to the help of scientific apparatus. Therefore at every receiving station we have devices that will intercept the waves as they come in; retransform them into electrical oscillations; and catching the weak oscillations make them strong enough to be read. Hence we use some type of induction coil by means of which a battery current of such low pressure and diffused flow as scarcely to be felt will be transformed or concentrated into a pressure that is very powerful. In order to form wireless waves we must have a frequency of at least one hundred thousand vibrations a second; and as it is out of the question to produce these by mechanical means we employ a group of Leyden jars. Such jars you have of course seen. They have in them two pieces of tinfoil separated by glass, which is a nonconductor of electric currents, and various other acids and minerals. When you connect a number of these small jars together you have a battery as powerful as that of a large single jar." "I never saw jars like those," objected Dick. Bob beamed at the intelligence of the demurrer. "When I say jar," explained he, "it does not necessarily mean that these jars are of the round, cylindrical shape that comes to mind when you mention the word; on the contrary Leyden jars are often flat because such a form makes them more compact. That is also why we use several little ones instead of one big one. But whatever their shape the principle involved is always the same. When the terminals are connected with a current the jar will not only receive but will retain a charge equal in pressure to that of the device sending the current. And when you go even farther and bring the terminals near together, the quick discharge that takes place creates an electric spark which is in reality a series of alternating flashes that come so fast as to be blurred into what appears to be one. Could we separate these flashes we should find that each of them lasts less than a thousandth part of a second. The frequency of such oscillations is regulated by what is technically termed capacity, that is the size of the Leyden jar. The smaller the capacity the greater the frequency of the flashes. "Now this spark, or oscillatory discharge emitted from the Leyden jar, does not result from a single traveling of the current all in one direction; instead the electricity moves back and forth, or alternates, and the space where the discharge takes place (and which, by the way, can be lengthened or decreased as pleases the operator) is known as the spark gap." "But I should think this explosion of the spark would make a noise," commented Walter. "Bully for you, little brother!" returned Bob, smiling at His Highness. "You are quite an electrician. If the current is strong, or, in other words, if the discharge is a high frequency one, it does. Hence something has to be used to deaden the sound just as a muffler is used on a motor boat. It is important, however, that this muffler should not prevent the operator from watching the condition of his spark for otherwise he could not keep track of his battery or know whether it was on the job or not. So you will find little peepholes of mica or glass in the sides of the muffler." "Windows," murmured Nancy grasping the idea and translating it into the vernacular. "Exactly," Bob agreed. Evidently his audience were understanding what he was trying to make clear to them. "Now we have our high frequency oscillations occurring in the spark discharged from the Leyden jar and jumping the spark gap; nevertheless they would not do us any good were there not some way to use and regulate them. This brings us to the induction coil of which I spoke a second ago." "It sounds very terrible," smiled Mrs. Crowninshield. "It isn't, though," answered Bob, returning the smile. "In fact it is a very simple device--nothing more than a dozen or so twists of copper wire reeled about a wooden frame exactly as strands of thread might be wound round a spool. One end of the inductance is connected permanently with the ground and from the other end two movable wires go out, one of which can be connected with the spark gap and the other with the antenna that goes into the air and catches the sound waves. There isn't anything very terrible about that, you see." "Antenna is what butterflies have," suggested Nancy vaguely. "Quite right!" assented the wireless man. "Only radio antennæ are not to feel with--at least not in the same way. Nevertheless they do reach out and capture the sound. On all wireless stations you will notice the masts that support them. Sometimes there is one wire, sometimes a group. It is the wires themselves, remember, not the masts, which are the antennæ. Nowadays, however, you will occasionally see an indoor aerial used in connection with small, low-power outfits. It does away with the masts and outside equipment and frequently serves the same purpose quite satisfactorily. But most persons prefer the older method and for long-distance work it has, up to date proved to be indispensable. Now the antenna has both electrical capacity and inductance, and when connected up with the apparatus a wireless operator can at will cause it to disturb the magnetic fields surrounding the earth." "You didn't say how high these masts had to be, Bob," put in Mr. Crowninshield. "Are they always the same length?" "Oh, no, indeed, sir," was the prompt response. "Their length varies according to the type of service required of them. I'm glad you asked the question. Sometimes the masts are about two hundred feet high; again they may approximate four hundred and eighteen feet. And sometimes in emergencies you will discover no masts at all, the wires being fastened instead to captive balloons or kites which hold them in place long enough to send or receive hasty messages. This latter method is usually resorted to in wartime or during army or navy maneuvers. There are also compact radio sets to be had that can be carried on mule-back and set up and taken down on a hurried army march. On shipboard the ordinary masts of the vessel serve, of course, to support the antenna." "Thank you, Bob. That is exactly what I wanted to know," said Mr. Crowninshield. "I'm glad, sir. Now you'd think by this time we had everything necessary to produce our wireless waves and yet we haven't. There is still one thing almost more important than all the rest that we have not yet spoken of." "What's that, Bob?" piped Walter. "The tuner. You recall that at the beginning I mentioned the pitch, note, or key of the sound produced or received?" "Yes," returned the class in chorus. "Well, it is in that tune or pitch, or whatever you prefer to call it, that a large measure of the secret of wireless lies. To be successful in getting and sending messages we must tune the oscillations, or key the signals caused by the discharge of the battery in our Leyden jar, so that they will be in harmony (or at precisely the same pitch) with the antenna circuit. That is, the parts of the instrument must synchronize, just as two persons who would talk together must speak in the same language. This adjustment is made in the inductance coil because although both the Leyden jar where the spark is generated that causes the oscillations and the antenna can be regulated independently of each other a few turns of the inductance coil affects each circuit. After the two circuits have been adjusted to the same frequency they are said to synchronize. Often to reach this result a device is used that states precisely the wave length, and after the frequency of one circuit has been ascertained the other can easily be adjusted to correspond with it. The length of the wave is, you see, dependent on the largeness of the antenna and the capacity, or strength of current, of the Leyden jar. Just as a child uses a big stone to produce the largest splash and greatest waves so we must have a powerful force behind our wave lengths to make them carry most successfully. In accordance with this law, generally speaking, we find short wave lengths used for low power, short-distance outfits; and long wave lengths for high-power circuits whose aim is to traverse continents and oceans." Bob pushed back his chair. "I think," said he, "we have now come to a good stopping place and we will call the lesson off for to-day. If you digest all I have told you, you will have had an ample radio starter." "You haven't said much about sending messages," complained Dick. "That is quite another story," smiled the boy's tutor, "and such a long one that were I to tell it to you now it would mean you would get no sailing or swimming to-day." Instantly Dick was on his feet, Leyden jars and inductance coils forgotten. "We'll cut it out then," he laughed. "Who is for a swim? I'll race any man to the bath-house!" And off he went at top speed. CHAPTER XV TIDINGS Two days later O'Connel's first signal came. Bob was at his early morning task of oiling and tightening up his apparatus and cleaning it, and both Dick and Walter were hovering near, watching him and learning all they could concerning the proper care of the equipment. Having made everything shipshape the young radio operator slipped the double head receiver over his forehead and prepared to listen in for his customary interval. Suddenly the boys saw him start excitedly and motion them to stop talking. With face alight he was leaning forward eagerly. Then came the sharp click of the Morse code and after an interval with radiant face the elder lad wriggled out of his trappings. "What is it? What is it?" cried his two companions, hardly able to contain their curiosity. "It was O'Connel." "What did he say? Is the dog there? Where was the yacht?" Breathlessly the questions tumbled one over the other. "The _Siren_ is anchored off Gloucester and bound north, probably to Bar Harbor. A dog they call Trixie, but which O'Connel thinks is Lola, is aboard the boat. The description we gave him seems to fit her. He says she isn't very well--won't eat and seems either homesick or seasick. Mr. Daly is quite worried about her." "For goodness' sake don't tell Dad or Mother that. They'll have a fit," Dick cried. "Should Lola die I believe my father would shoot Daly down." "But I've got to give him the message." "You needn't repeat all of it, need you?" "Oh, I think you ought to tell them," Walter put in. "They would rather know, I'm sure." "Dad will storm fit to raise the dead." "We can't help it," answered His Highness. "I am of the kid's opinion," Bob replied slowly. "I think we should tell your father and mother the whole truth just as O'Connel has sent it." "Prepare for a nice, pleasant tornado, then," said Dick, "for you will get it all right." "I wish I could have talked with O'Connel," declared Bob thoughtfully. "I did all I dared. You see, until our license comes I am not expected to transmit messages from this station. We have to get from the government both an operator's license and a permit for the station; and although I put in the application promptly there is so much red tape about it that it seems as if the inspector would never show up. If I had been caught sending a message this morning without these blooming papers there would have been the deuce of a row. However, I took a chance because I felt the emergency demanded it, and because being one of Uncle Sam's own men he couldn't very well put up the kick that I was not competent to handle a wireless outfit. Still, I shan't dare do it again." "Isn't there anything we can do to hustle up the inspector?" inquired Dick. "I'm afraid not, son. Government inspectors are not a hurrying race," was Bob's whimsical reply. "However, I telephoned our local man yesterday and something may happen to-day. He and I used to be on quite good terms when he occasionally dropped in at Seaver Bay. I told him that if I could not get a station license pretty soon our whole outfit would be no good to us this season. He promised he would take up the matter at once. With that I had to be satisfied. Whether he does anything or not remains to be seen." "I suppose O'Connel understands this difficulty, doesn't he?" mused Dick. "Oh, he knows, all right, why I can't answer him. I've assured him that his tidings have come through and that is all he wants to know," Bob answered. "He has dealt with the government himself and is familiar with its deliberate habits. Besides, there really isn't much we can say." "Maybe you think that," grinned Dick, "but wait until you tell Dad that Lola is sick and hear him sputter. You will believe then that there is quite a bit that can be said. And if you get my mother to add her comments you will have plenty to relay over the wire." The prophecy was indeed true, as Bob King proved after he had raced across the grass and overtaken Mr. and Mrs. Crowninshield on a tour of inspection to the rose gardens. "News, Bob?" questioned the capitalist, wheeling about to meet the flying figure. "What is it? Let us have it quickly." Carefully the message was repeated. "Off Gloucester, eh, and bound north? Humph! And they've re-christened the poor little pupsie Trixie! Hang them! O'Connel thinks she isn't well? Of course she isn't seasick. Lola has been out on our yacht a hundred times. The reason she won't eat is because she is lonesome--misses her home and family. The wretches! I wish I had Daly here! I'd wring his neck," blustered Mr. Crowninshield. "Isn't there anything we can do, Archibald? We simply must get that dog back before she dies. Poor little Lola! She was such a dependent little creature. It is terrible, terrible!" "There, there, my dear! Don't go all to pieces over it. Aren't we doing all we can? Do you want Daly to smell a rat and toss his stolen property into the sea? Dacie says to give him rope enough and in time he will hang himself, and I am inclined to think the advice wise. Still, that does not prevent me from wishing I could lay hands on Daly. I'd like nothing better than to thrash the life out of him." "I suppose you will telephone the detective the news we've received," suggested Bob, in order to quell the rising storm and divert Mr. Crowninshield's attention. "Yes, I'll get New York on the wire right away. It is as well Lyman and his pal should know Lola is sick and that they can't dally round forever." "Shall you be back for the wireless lesson?" called Bob, uncertain whether to ask the question or not. "Oh, sure! It won't help matters for us to sit around and wail the whole morning. We'll be on deck for your radio talk at the usual time." "All right, sir." True to their agreement, at the appointed hour both Mr. and Mrs. Crowninshield made their appearance on the piazza and joined the group of young people who awaited their coming. They had, as Bob expressed it, cooled off a bit and were no longer in such an agitated frame of mind; nevertheless anxiety had left its mark by keying the master's voice to a sharper note, and shadowing the lady's brow with a frown of annoyance. "I suppose you let out on O'Connel, didn't you, after he got through talking this morning?" was the first remark of the owner of Surfside. "I couldn't say more than a word. Our license hasn't come yet, you know." "That's so, darn it! I never saw anything in all my born life with so many rules attached to it as this wireless business. It is one tangle of rules, rules, rules! You might as well be tied up in a net," fretted the man. "There do seem to be a good many rules at first glance," returned Bob pleasantly. "However, when you examine them most of them are both necessary and wise. And after all when each radio operator knows in black and white what he can do and what he can't it is far simpler." "I suppose so," grumbled Mr. Crowninshield. "Besides, there are always slackers at every job," continued Bob. "Rules help to keep such persons up to the mark and prevent carelessness and accidents." "Yes, I fancy that is so," came more graciously from the still irate gentleman. "Then all stations are not alike. That compass station at Bell Reef, for example, that you were asking me about yesterday; the government lays out specific duties and makes special rules for such a station, as in fact it does for all radio stations. Some of these rules relate to the care of the place and the cleaning and general overhauling of apparatus at stated intervals. There are, you see, certain instruments which must be cleaned and readjusted every day; certain others every week, others every month, and some every six months. It simply means making sure that your outfit is in the pink of condition with every part functioning as it should. There are, of course, operators who would see that this was done anyway, rules or no rules; but like every other profession there might be men who, off on an isolated spot with no one to keep them up to the mark, would grow careless and slovenly. Too much depends on wireless stations to run the risk of errors through imperfections in the equipment." "I can understand all that; but aren't there a score of other regulations?" "You mean about what they shall and shall not do?" "Yes." "There certainly are. There have to be because we have several different types of land stations. Just as the shipboard stations have their special kinds of work so do those on shore. For example, there are two different classes of radio compass stations,--those that operate independently and are located with a view to giving good cross-bearings to vessels that are from fifty to a hundred miles out to sea; and those known as harbor stations which are governed by a central control station and designed to inform ships within thirty miles of the entrance to outer channels of their position. The function of each of these stations is, as you can see, quite different and therefore each of them is obliged to have its own set of rules." "I never knew anything about radio compass stations before," announced Dick. "That is because you never sailed the seas and had to call on one for aid," smiled Bob. "If you did you would be very thankful, I guess, that the government has so carefully provided some one to answer just the sort of question you wished answered. I try to remember this when I get hot under the collar because the license for our station does not arrive. Uncle Sam can't help it if his men are slow. The plan at the top is all right. There must be rules to govern wireless stations, be they governmental, commercial, or private; rules to regulate the wave lengths each may use; rules to make sure the operators who have charge of them know their job; and inspectors to make sure that every such rule is obeyed." "Who has the big chore of following up all these people and making certain that they are conforming to the law?" questioned Mr. Crowninshield. "The Department of Commerce issues the licenses for all private and commercial stations and sends its inspectors to keep an eye on whatever comes under their control. It is this department that will have jurisdiction over Surfside if the license is granted. Government radio stations on the other hand, not only the high-power class but the coastal stations and everything that pertains to their relations with commercial stations afloat or ashore, whether in the United States or in foreign lands are entirely under the control of the Director of Naval Communications of the Navy Department." "I wish you'd tell us something more about compass stations," Dick said. "Were you ever stationed at one?" "Yes, for a little while I was on an island off the coast," replied Bob. "But I did not like it very well and applied for a transfer." "It must have been lonely as the dickens on an island; worse, even, than being at Seaver Bay. Why in goodness did they build the station there?" "Why, you see, a compass station that operates independently as that one did is usually situated on a lightship or an island because that location is best suited to the sort of work it has to do." "And that is?" "To give ships their positions when they sing out to ask exactly where they are," replied Bob. "Since the station is fairly well out to sea itself, it is able to furnish excellent cross-bearings and set the vessel on her course in case she is off it. Ships have been known to miss their way, you know, especially in a fog; and if they have not missed it they are often very grateful to be assured they have not and that their own calculations were correct. So the rule is that an operator must always be listening in for at least three minutes at ten, twenty-five, forty, and fifty-five minutes past the hour and be ready to answer a Q T E when he hears it." "What's a Q T E?" inquired both Dick and Walter simultaneously. "Those particular letters mean: _What is my true bearing?_ It takes less time to send the letters than to spell out the entire sentence and therefore a simple code which means the same in all languages is used. When such a call is received the operator replies: Q T S (meaning: Your true bearing is) and then follows it with the number of degrees from his radio post stated in words, and also the name of the station responding to the message. It is a general rule, by-the-by, that all numerals used in any wireless communication must be spelled out to make sure of their being perfectly understood." "What a bother!" ejaculated Walter. "It prevents mistakes, brother; and if it does that it is certainly worth the trouble." "I suppose so," answered His Highness a trifle crestfallen. "Then what do you say next?" interrupted Dick, who was much interested in the subject in hand. "Well, after you have given the true bearing the ship wires: Q T F." "And that means?" "_What is my position?_" "And you have to repeat those words before giving it just as you did before?" asked Dick. "Always," nodded Bob. "Every question asked is always repeated by the operator answering it to make sure that each party fully understands what is being talked about. You can't risk having a ship complain: 'Oh, I thought those figures you sent me were so-and-so.' No, indeed. Everything must be so explicit that there will be no room for blunders. So after you have repeated the question you send the latitude and longitude _in words_." "I guess there is sense in the rules after all," smiled Mrs. Crowninshield. "Thus far we have not discovered any which, on being examined, were not both reasonable and wise." "That's the way I feel," Bob rejoined. "After being in radio work and seeing the opportunities there are for mistakes I have decided operators cannot be too careful. You see it is not like talking with a person face to face. Those you are communicating with are usually miles and miles away. Such stations as I have been telling you about are on the lookout for any six-hundred-meter calls and they answer in this tune. After communication with a ship is established, however, the tune shifts to seven hundred and fifty-six meters if a Navy vessel should be talking; if not, the six-hundred-meter wave length assigned is used. This leaves the shorter range waves to commercial vessels and greatly simplifies matters." "That is a good rule, too," chimed in Mr. Crowninshield. "And now about the harbor stations," suggested Dick. The young tutor smiled. "I had not intended to give you all this stuff this morning," protested he, "but since you are interested in it we may as well go on with the subject. The task of the harbor stations, then, is to listen both on a six-hundred-meter range, and one of nine hundred and fifty-two--the first wave length for commercial and the latter for Navy ship's calls. Then in response to inquiry the operator directs the vessel how to enter that particular harbor, stating just where the entrance buoys are and where the channel lies. If the man at the wheel is new to the port this aid is invaluable." "Not much like the navigation of the old days, is it?" mused Mr. Crowninshield. "I should think such stations would put pilots out of business." "They do to some extent," was the reply. "There are, however, always ships that cannot make a landing under their own steam, ships that have to be towed. So the pilots still find something to do." "And are these harbor stations on islands too?" questioned Nancy. "Many of them are. A small proportion of them, though, are in lighthouses. It all depends on which place has the more favorable location." "But do not the land stations that send messages sometimes interfere with these stations?" queried Mr. Crowninshield. "There are rules to prevent _that_," laughed Bob. "Of course the difference in wave length to which the various types of stations are limited solves a part of this difficulty. As I told you commercial stations have their own particular wave length and must stick to it; and private stations such as this one here have their range of two hundred meters in which to operate and are confined to not more than one kilowatt for sending messages. You cannot use more than this without special permission from the Secretary of Labor. Should you do so you are liable to a fine of one hundred dollars if your offense is deliberate; if, however, it is proved that your apparatus was out of adjustment and overreached itself you may get off with a twenty-five-dollar fine. In that case you must see at once that your radio error is corrected and your outfit set right." "But sometimes along the coast aren't there big government stations belonging to the army or navy? I should think these, with their press of business, would butt in on the smaller ones and raise havoc with them," ventured Mr. Crowninshield. "Where there are such mix-ups and private or commercial stations interfere with important government outfits the smaller ones are not allowed to send messages during the first fifteen minutes of each hour, such time being reserved for government business. The government, on the other hand, must respect the rights of the littler chap and use this particular interval for transmitting. In fact, when licenses are issued this condition is made with private owners and the station is so listed. Of course, however, should an S O S call come, all rules go by the boards and the distress call has the right of way in every case." Mrs. Crowninshield, smiling mischievously, rose from her chair. "There is an S O S coming in right now for a lemonade," said she, fanning herself with her filmy handkerchief. "Who will join me?" A chorus of "I!" "I!" greeted the question. She touched a bell. "Bring lemonade for six, Emelie," said she. "Put in some slices of orange, some strawberries, and plenty of cracked ice. What a warm day it is! I am glad I am not out on some hot, sun-baked island answering radio calls." "You probably would not be hot if you were on an island out to sea, my dear," her husband returned playfully. "However, I'll agree that this veranda is good enough for me on a July day." The tinkling of ice cut short the conversation. Far away through the house its distant cadence sounded. "The first and tallest lemonade must be for Bob," Nancy announced. "He has certainly earned it." CHAPTER XVI MIRACLES Although throughout the day Mr. Crowninshield did not wander far from the telephone no word came from the New York detectives and evening saw him quite discouraged. "I cannot imagine what those fellows are up to," fretted he. "Now that they know where the yacht is and have had all day to do something about it, it is beyond my comprehension why they haven't. Lola will be dead before they get round to moving on Daly." "I don't believe they are sitting idle," Bob declared in an effort to cheer his patron. "Probably there will be news to-morrow." "Maybe," sighed the financier. "But if something does not happen by to-morrow, I shall start myself in my own yacht to chase up Daly." "I doubt if that would do any good, sir," protested Bob. "It might simply, as you said yourself, precipitate a crisis." "Well, a crisis is better than having nothing done," fumed the man irritably. "You must not forget there is O'Connel." "Much good he is doing. We have only heard from him once and as we have no license you can't talk to him." "Nevertheless, he is on the job at his end of the line," Bob answered. "He has a lot of common sense, too. You can trust him to keep tabs on how things are moving." "Maybe I can. I hope so," was the dismal retort. Evening, however, saw no improvement in Mr. Crowninshield's mood. "Not a yip of any sort from those chaps in New York. One would think they were dead," he growled. "Well, I'll give them one more day and then if they haven't something to show I will send them to blazes and take up the case myself. I almost wish I had done it in the first place. Here I am paying a small fortune and getting no results." Again Bob struggled to soothe the perturbed mind and raise the capitalist's spirits. "Oh, we'll hear something to-morrow, I guess," said he with an optimism he did not altogether feel. "Maybe my license will come; or the inspector may appear; or O'Connel may send tidings; or news may come from New York. Something is sure to happen. Why don't we all go over to the station and listen in on the broadcasting to-night. We are sure to get something that will be interesting and now that the 'loud speaker' is in position we shall be able to hear without using individual receivers. You haven't any of you really heard what our wireless can do." "I know it," acknowledged the gentleman. "You see, just about every night during broadcasting hours we have either had company or I have been busy." "But are you to be busy to-night?" inquired Bob. "No, I fancy we're not. Mrs. Crowninshield said there was nothing on." "Then why don't we light up the boathouse, and all of us listen to what is going on in the world," Bob suggested. "I wish, too, Jerry might come. He has not had a chance to see the outfit at all, much less hear it. If it would not annoy you and the ladies just to let him sit at the back of the room he could hear everything now that the horn is on." Bob hesitated. "He has been so kind about helping us----" "Sure! Ask him by all means," Mr. Crowninshield assented heartily. "Or better yet, I will ask him myself. I am glad you reminded me of it. Jerry is my right-hand man and I like to give him pleasure when I can. What time will your show begin?" "Oh, from seven o'clock on there is usually something doing, sir. But the most interesting part of the program begins at eight." "We'll be on hand, then." This promise won Bob imparted the tidings to Dick and Walter and the two assistants, as they dubbed themselves, hastened to prepare the new radio building for the reception of guests. Comfortable chairs and gay cushions were brought from the house and in his enthusiasm Dick even went so far as to drape a flag over the entrance of the low room. "We might have hung out bunting if we'd known sooner they were coming," said he. "I guess they won't care about the bunting once they are inside the place," Walter asserted in a comforting tone. "Don't you hope the outfit will show up well? I do," declared Dick. "It would be just our luck to have something act up so we couldn't hear anything. Then Dad, who is feeling pretty much on edge anyway, would announce that a wireless was simply money thrown in a hole." "We're not responsible for the conditions," laughed Bob. "If static is bothersome it is not our fault." "Nevertheless, Dad wouldn't understand that. He would just think we did not know how to operate the thing." "Well, we'll pray for moderate quiet," smiled Bob. "Of course I'd like the apparatus to show off at its best. But like a child, it probably won't. We shall have to take our luck; and if we do not get satisfactory results to-night why the audience will have to come again to-morrow or some other time." "Maybe it won't--at least maybe Dad won't," Dick answered incoherently. "If he starts off in the yacht to-morrow----" "Oh, he won't set off to chase Daly to-morrow, don't you fret," put in His Highness. "He was only sputtering. What good could he do? He wouldn't have any right to search the _Siren_ even if he overtook her; nor could he arrest the criminals aboard her. Daly would pitch Lola over the side of the boat before he would stand by and let your father board his yacht and he knows it." "Maybe he does," admitted Dick. "Still, he was tremendously in earnest this afternoon." "He has calmed down some now," His Highness replied. "I hope he'll stay calmed," Dick smiled. "Perhaps, unless our show goes wrong and he gets irate at the radio company, he will." In fact had the three young wireless operators been willing to admit it they were far more perturbed when they heard the invited company approaching than they would have been willing to confess. In the heart of each of them was the same thought: the new radiophone must justify itself and prove that it was worth all the money that had been expended upon it. "Well, here we are! And here's Jerry, too. He said he couldn't possibly come--tried to make me believe he was too busy, the rascal. But I labored with him and finally got him here," announced the master triumphantly. Very hot and very uncomfortable under the general banter Jerry blushed. "Now where do you wish to put us, Dick?" inquired the boy's mother. "We are under your orders to-night--yours and Bob's." "I think you will be able to hear in any of these chairs--that is, if we hear at all," Dick responded nervously. "What do you mean by _able to hear at all_?" put in his father sharply. "Why--eh--sometimes conditions vary," was the ambiguous answer. "One does not always hear equally well." It seemed wiser to prepare his father's mind for possible disappointment. In the meantime Bob was tinkering with the plugs. "Everybody ready?" he asked. "All on deck!" came from Mr. Crowninshield whose depression, it was plain to be seen, had momentarily vanished. "Then here goes!" cried Bob. Instantly the quiet of the room was transformed into a chaos of sound. There was a shrill piping as of a singing wind, and a wail that echoed hauntingly through the air as the tuner revolved. "What in the name of goodness----?" began Mr. Crowninshield. "Hush, Dad! It is always like that," explained Dick hastily. "But it's horrible." "Yes, I know. But wait." "Isn't something out of order?" "No." Dick smiled patronizingly. "My soul and body," whispered Jerry from his corner, "did anybody ever hear such a sound? Ain't it the wind outside. Seems as if a gale must have come up--a hurricane, tornado, or something. If a storm's coming I can't sit round here. I'll have to be seeing to the awnings or they'll be ripped to pieces." He half rose from his chair. "Don't worry, Jerry; everything's all right outside," interrupted Walter reassuringly. "You mean to say it's just in here?" murmured the bewildered Jerry. Enjoying the old man's confusion, Walter nodded. "What you hear is the rise of our pitch," explained Dick. "I should think it was the rise of something," grumbled Mr. Crowninshield. "We are running up our meters in order to catch the higher tuned waves," Bob added. "That is part of the bedlam." "And the rest?" "It is static interference." "What's that?" "Well, static is the big bugbear of radio," answered Bob, pausing a moment in regulating his tuner and detector. "It is caused by stray waves moving in various directions through the atmosphere, and by electrical conditions. It is the defect all wireless people have to fight. Sometimes it is worse than others and unfortunately to-night it promises to be pretty bad. You see it has been a close, heavy day and no doubt thunderstorms are in the air. A thunderstorm will kick up no end of a rumpus with wireless." "But we haven't had any thunderstorm," Nancy called above the hubbub. "No, but somebody else's thunderstorm would bother us almost as much," Bob explained good-humoredly. "Never mind the thunderstorms now," put in Mr. Crowninshield. "Aren't we going to hear anything but this whistling and groaning? Whee! There it goes again. It is for all the world like a chorus of cats." "It is more like a siren horn tooting up and down," laughed Nancy. A spluttering crackle blotted out the wail. "You would think they were frying doughnuts," grinned Dick, "wouldn't you?" "And you really believe a thunderstorm would cause a noise like this?" queried Mrs. Crowninshield incredulously. "It might. We have no way of knowing exactly what is raising the trouble." "Do you mean to say that a storm that wasn't round here at all could----" burst out Jerry, then stopped embarrassed. "Indeed it could," replied Bob, answering the unfinished question. "You see thunderstorms cause powerful electrical waves that affect apparatus miles and miles distant. Of course such waves vary in length but nevertheless they act on all aerials to a greater or less degree. Then, too, the atmospheric conditions are never quite identical, changing with the hour of the day, the season of the year, and local weather disturbances. Fortunately, since the air is positively electrified and the earth negatively, certain of these differences are remedied by the aerial that connects the two, the current discharges partially seeping off through the ground. Sometimes, however, in spite of every device used, such currents are strong enough to cause a roar in the receiver. In addition there is the interference from other radio stations which are busy transmitting messages, and although there are rules that aim to reduce this annoyance, it is, to a certain extent, always to be reckoned with." "I should think somebody ought to invent something to prevent such troubles," declared Nancy. "Why don't you, Sis?" asked Dick wickedly. "But it is terrible to have the air so full of noise," continued the girl, as she made a little face at her brother. "I've always thought of the air as being still." "It is still in a general sense," smiled Bob. "It is only when the amplifier of the wireless magnifies the sounds that we realize how many of them our ears fail to hear." "It's a downright mercy they do!" exclaimed Jerry. "You're right there, Jerry!" agreed Mr. Crowninshield. "But how do messages come through such a chaos?" Dick inquired. "Sometimes they don't," laughed Bob. "But nine cases out of ten they do because there are ways of combating static interference. You can, for instance, tune your apparatus to a higher or lower pitch and thereby escape from the zone where the noise is. That whine you hear is produced by my turning the tuning knob and increasing our range of meters. Already with the higher vibration you will notice the hubbub has lessened." "Yes, things are ever so much clearer," agreed a chorus of voices. "That is one way, then, out of the difficulty. There are, in addition, other mechanical means that can be resorted to when you learn more about handling the outfit. Suffice it to say that in a general way whatever tends toward inertia, or a lack of electrical activity, decreases static interference." There was a pause in which above the crackling and the wailing of the instrument a faint sound became audible. "Gee! Did you hear that?" cried Walter. "Hush!" "But I heard a voice quite distinctly." "Keep still, can't you?" Dick remarked unceremoniously. Then plainly into the room came the words: "Station (WGI) Amrad Medford Hillside, Mass. 360 meters. Stand by for Boston Police reports." "That is the police news," whispered Dick to Nancy. "Among other things it gives the automobiles that are lost, their numbers, and a description of each." "Want to hear it?" asked Bob of his audience. "Not unless they can tell us they have found Lola," responded Mr. Crowninshield promptly. "Oh, no," his wife hastened to add, "let's not listen to a long string of crimes. Goodness knows there are enough of them to read in the papers." She shook her head warningly at Bob and motioned toward her husband. "I'd rather hear some music," put in Nancy. "Can't we?" There was an ascending wail from the tuner. "Ain't that a band?" cried Jerry excitedly. "It's an orchestra!" Nancy ejaculated in the same breath. "It's gone!" "We'll get it again," was Bob's confident answer as he twirled the knobs of both tuner and detector. "There it is!" burst out Jerry. "It's a brass band, as I live!" "Where do you suppose it is?" speculated Mrs. Crowninshield. "Pittsburgh or Chicago; or perhaps Newark." "Not Chicago--out West! You're fooling," observed Jerry with scorn. "Indeed I'm not. Wait and you'll hear in a few moments exactly who it was." "I'll not believe it unless I do," the old man announced, with a zest that provoked a general laugh. "What time is it? Can any one tell?" asked Bob. "What difference does that make," Walter inquired. "It will give us a cue as to who it is," was the explanation. "All these broadcasting stations have certain hours for their programs." "I've seen those lists published in the papers, but I never took any stock in them," growled Jerry. "You'll have to now, Jerry," said Nancy mischievously. She saw him scratch his head. "Well, I dunno," was his laconic reply. "The whole thing beats me. If that band was in Chicago----" "Hush!" The crash of instruments had come to an end and over the wire in accents unmistakably distinct came the words: "Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company KYW Chicago, Illinois. Stand by fifteen minutes for----" but the rest of the sentence was lost, for with a mighty slap of his knees Jerry roared: "It was in Chicago--that band! Well, I'll be buttered!" Overwhelmed the Cape Codder had risen to his feet. "Chicago! Pittsburgh! Medford! My eye, but this will do me to talk about until the day of my death. It don't seem possible; I'm beat if it does." Helplessly he dropped back into his chair again, silenced by very wonder. In the meantime out of the wailing and whining and piping the sharp, clear-cut click of a telegraph instrument could be discerned. "That's the Morse code," explained Bob. "Some commercial station is sending a message. It seems to be about a shipment of lumber and isn't particularly interesting." "I suppose you can read it," said Dick enviously. "Naturally. That is part of my job, you know." "What is a commercial station?" inquired the still bewildered Jerry. "A station that sends only messages for the general public. Probably this load of lumber started out of port without the captain of the ship having the least idea in the world where he was to market it. In the interval since it left, however, the company's shore agents have secured a customer for it, perhaps in New Bedford, Boston, Providence, or some other coast city and they are now notifying the ship where to deliver it. Such an arrangement is quite common nowadays. Were the captain obliged to hold his cargo in port until he had a purchaser, as was the usual rule in the past, he would be wasting much precious time. By this method he can set forth the moment the vessel is loaded and during his voyage let his managers search for buyers. In all probability by the time he nears New England harbors his wares will be sold and orders sent him where to deposit them." "That's a neat little scheme!" observed Walter. But poor Jerry was too much overcome by the marvels he had witnessed to comment on this added miracle. All he could do was to reiterate feebly: "It beats me--hanged if it don't!" CHAPTER XVII THE LAWS OF THE AIR Morning found Mr. Crowninshield in no more tractable a mood. Even before Bob could reach his post at the wireless station and adjust his double head receiver to his ears his employer came briskly across the grass with his after-breakfast cigar between his lips. "Well," began he, when he was within calling distance, "any news yet?" "I'm afraid not yet, sir. It is still early." The great man took out his watch. "Isn't it almost time for O'Connel to signal?" "It is nearing the time." "I wonder if he will have any tidings for us?" "I certainly hope so." The wish was uttered with deep sincerity. A speculation was forming in the young operator's mind as to how he was going to pacify the irascible gentleman before him should no tidings come. "Since I'm here I believe I'll drop down and wait until you get into touch with the _Siren_." "It is liable to be quite a little while. Sometimes there is delay." "No matter. I've nothing especial to do to-day." With sinking heart Bob turned away and began to fuss with his oil can and a bit of cotton waste. "As you will, sir," was all he said. "You think, don't you, that we will hear something definite this morning?" "There is no telling." "No, of course not. Nevertheless O'Connel can at least let us know whether Lola is worse or better." "Yes, we ought to ascertain that." "He wouldn't be such an idiot as to stand by and see the dog die, would he?" "One never can predict just what another person will do. However, I feel sure you can trust O'Connel. I never knew him to bungle anything yet." With that comfort Mr. Crowninshield was obliged to content himself. Notwithstanding it, however, he began to pace nervously back and forth, and every time there was a sound in the room he would whisk about with the quick remark: "Didn't you hear something?" But although he fretted and fumed, strolled out the door and in again, no amount of impatience appeared to hurry matters. Even Bob began to lose his poise and fear no message was coming when suddenly the well-known signal came and the familiar clockwork began to be clicked off. "Is it he?" demanded Mr. Crowninshield in a tense whisper. Bob nodded. On clicked the code. Then suddenly it stopped and the man who was watching saw the operator raise the discs of rubber from his ears and shake himself free of his metal trappings. "Well?" inquired Mr. Crowninshield in quick staccato. "It was O'Connel. All he said was: _Wait developments._" "Not a word about Lola?" "No, sir." "Not a reference of any sort?" "That was all." "But that is no kind of a message," announced the exasperated owner of Surfside. "Why, it might mean almost anything." "It sounds hopeful to me." "I don't see any hope in it," was the despondent answer. "It least it gives us to understand that something is brewing." "But why couldn't he have told us more?" "Perhaps he did not dare to. They may have begun to suspect he was sending private messages." "Humph! I had not thought of that." "Or possibly he may have been in a rush. He sent the letters at a tremendous pace--so fast that I had to race him. It seemed as if he was afraid he might not be able to get the message through." "You didn't answer anything, I suppose." "Only my signal to let him know I was listening." "Then you think there is nothing more to be done at present but sit right here and see what happens?" "I do not see how we can do anything else." "It's frightfully annoying." "Yes. Nevertheless it is our only course." "You've no inkling whether the developments he mentioned are to be soon or not?" "Not the ghost of an idea." "Then there is nothing for it but to hold on right here a while longer, I'm afraid. And since we are all to be tied to the spot you may as well come up to the house later and give Dick his usual radio lesson." "Very well, sir." With a curt nod the financier went out the door and after seeing that everything was right Bob locked up the building and followed him. He found the little group assembled in the lee of the awnings waiting for him. Mr. Crowninshield was there, too, gnawing fiercely at a fresh cigar. "I hear you have had a message, Bob," Mrs. Crowninshield said as he approached. "Yes; a rather hopeful one, I think." "I'm so excited! We all are. What do you suppose is in the wind?" "I've no idea. Something good, I hope." "Is that Morse code hard to learn?" inquired Nancy. "The Morse Continental? That depends on what you consider hard," smiled Bob. "If your memory is good and you are quick at catching sounds it ought not to be very awful. Numberless persons do learn it." "Of course sending messages after you have the code learned cannot be so bad, for you can take your own time," Dick put in. "It is receiving them that would fuss me." "We'll fix you up with a buzzer and let you and Walter practice later if you want a try." "Could you?" asked Dick eagerly. "Sure! Moreover, there are phonograph records made on purpose to be used by beginners. Perhaps your father will get you some of those. It is a fine way to learn, training your ear to the sounds and giving you lots of practice." "What a bully scheme!" "It is a good proof of how one science can help another, isn't it?" observed Mrs. Crowninshield. "I suppose transmitting is a great deal harder than receiving anyhow, isn't it?" pursued Dick. "Well, of course there is more to it. In the rough it is merely the reverse of receiving; but in reality to project a message through the air requires a more elaborate outfit." "But you said our wireless would send as well as receive." "Oh, it will. It was made with both ends of the service in view. Your apparatus would first have to be adjusted and tuned until it was at the same frequency as the station with which you were talking. That you have to do anyhow, whether you are sending or receiving. And I told you, you remember, how to regulate that. Your antenna is connected through an adjustable induction coil, and moreover you have a small condenser which together with it forms a closed circuit. It is simple enough when you understand the principle to adjust the vibratory motion in the antenna by moving the connection. The frequency of the closed circuit can be adjusted, too. Tuning is nothing more than putting these two circuits into accord with the waves you receive. Your detector does a good part of the work for you, for it responds to every oscillation set up in the receiver. When, however, you are transmitting a message, you must take care to cut out your receiver by turning on the switch. Never forget that. You won't be likely to, either, when you are told why. You see it requires power to send out transmission waves and therefore to do it you have to employ a high-pressure current. Receiving, on the other hand, demands delicately adjusted instruments which are equipped to catch every faint, incoming wave. Should you let the strong charge of electricity used for transmission pass through your fragile receiving apparatus you would ruin it in no time." "I can see that," replied Dick. "Grasp that notion and you have one big principle of the difference between sending messages and receiving them," said Bob. "Skill in learning to take messages either in code or cipher comes with practice. The more you work at it the faster you can go. You have a keyboard all installed and the only thing standing between you and an expert operator is patience. Speed comes sooner than you think, too, if you practice persistently every day. As for the Morse code you press the key lever down quickly and instantly release it to make a dot. A dash is equal to three dots; the space between the parts of the same letters is equal to a dot; that between two letters to three dots; and between two words to five dots. You must train your ear until the span of these intervals becomes unmistakable. When you get some skill and are ready to try out what you can do, you will find that there are several ways of getting wider practice. There are, for example, local clubs that broadcast in code and send messages limited in speed to an amateur's capacity. Such centers are considerate enough to transmit at the rate of not more than five or ten words to the minute. It is persistence and a willingness to go slowly and carefully that win out in the end. A moderately delivered message that is without errors is worth a dozen fast, inaccurate ones; for when you blunder and have to go back and repeat, you not only waste your time and that of the man at the other end of the line but you annoy and usually confuse him. You will never gain anything if you are content with being a sloppy operator since above everything else radio messages must be correct. That is their chief value. Therefore, if after trying with all your might you find you cannot qualify as a topnotch, high-speed man be content to drop into the class below and be an accurate, slower operator. There are always certain things we do better than others. Speed may not be one of your gifts. That is no sign you have not other talents, however. Face the fact and go into the class where you belong. You won't get so nervous and fussed up, and by and by you may surprise yourself by finding that with time and experience the desired speed will come." "I am not aiming to be a crackerjack like you," grinned Dick. "If I can take down and send any messages at all I shall feel pretty cocky." "You think that now," returned Bob, ignoring the flattery contained in the observation. "But by and by you will find yourself discontented and as crazy to make time as you are in an automobile. There is a fascination about it." "Doesn't the Morse Continental bother you a bit?" inquired Mr. Crowninshield. "Not a particle. In fact, it has come to be almost as easy reading as straight English," answered Bob. "The thing that does fuss me sometimes though is to send and receive in cipher." "Mercy! Do they do that too?" gasped Mrs. Crowninshield. "Certainly. Often both in time of war and times of peace confidential messages which it is not desirable all the world should know have to be transmitted. Sometimes these are government communications; sometimes business or personal ones. At any rate, their senders wish them kept private and hence they are sent in cipher. Many of them are queer enough, too, when they come in." "Can you understand them yourself?" asked Nancy. "Certainly not. It is not intended that any one except the person for whom they are intended shall know what they mean." "But I should think since they make no sense you would wonder whether you had them right," commented Dick. "I do wonder sometimes," admitted Bob honestly. "When you get a sequence of queer words or combinations of letters you cannot help wondering. However, there is not much chance for a mistake, either in the transmission or in the delivery of such messages, for the operator is always obliged to send them slower than he does ordinary stuff, spacing the letters or groups of letters with unusual care. Furthermore, code words are always repeated once. This gives the man receiving them a chance to print the letters by hand rather than write them, a precaution that does much to prevent mistakes. The address and signature must also be very carefully transmitted. With such watchfulness at each end of the line it would be only a colossally stupid person who would blunder." "But suppose the operator who is transmitting went faster than you could?" murmured Walter. "He doesn't as a general rule. It isn't wireless ethics. And even should he be a more skillful radio man he knows he would gain nothing by hustling the chap at the other end for he would only lose time by having to go back and repeat." "Is all the general transmission of messages given such care?" inquired Mr. Crowninshield. "Of course cipher communications are fussier," Bob said. "Nevertheless the rules are pretty strict for all messages. And since accuracy is the keynote of radio and to get it your outfit must be in A1 condition, every care must be taken to have strong, clear, and effective sending and receiving power. That means you must constantly clean your apparatus and tighten it up; test out your detector by the buzzer intended for the purpose and make sure that it is in sensitive condition; and assure yourself that every part of your set is OK. Moreover, an operator who is on duty listening in is expected to wear the double head receiver all the time, so no sound, however faint, may get by him. He must also see that his detector is adjusted to its greatest degree of sensibility and his tuner to the proper wave length. If your station happens to be near another, or if you are one of a group of ships and other vessels near yours are sending, you must watch out and either weaken the coupling of your detector or open your switch and cut it out altogether when those around you are using powerful currents for transmission; else you will wreck this delicate part of your instrument." "Gee, but there are things to remember!" ejaculated Dick. "Not so many, really, if you use ordinary brains," Bob returned. "You just have to think, that is all. A few big principles hold throughout. The other _don'ts_ are simply to make your own work and the other fellow's smoother; prevent mistakes; do away with as much interference as possible; and protect your outfit. For example, I found I could often lessen the interference by loosening the coupling of my receiving set after I had heard a call and reduce the sound to a point where it was just readable. You get your message all right but you do not get so much else with it. Then you can save wear and tear if you only run your generator while you are sending messages. That you cannot transmit at the hours reserved for naval radio stations to send out the time signals by which navigators set their chronometers, or when operators are broadcasting, goes without saying. Any dunce would know that." "I had no idea there were hours for sending out the time," confessed Dick. "Indeed there are. It is very important, too, that ships know the correct time to prevent disasters. There are shore stations whose sole duty it is to supply to ships the time and their location. Don't you recall my mentioning such coastal stations?" "Oh, yes; I guess I do remember now," returned Dick, a trifle confused. "What happens if you call a station and nobody answers?" interrogated Nancy. "I have been meaning to ask. Do you just keep on calling as you do at the telephone?" "No, indeed," was the instant reply. "Should you do that you would cause no end of interference and make yourself a nuisance to everybody. The rule is that after you have called a station three times at two-minute intervals you must stop for a quarter of an hour before you call again. If you happened to be calling a fleet of ships it is desirable to alter your tune rather than keep repeating the summons in the same key. It saves time. Merchant ships and coast stations must, however, be called in the wave length definitely specified for their use." "Shipboard stations seem to have more rules than the others," commented Dick. "Not more rules but different ones," Bob said. "You see their nearness to other ships makes this imperative. Each ship has to take care not to knock out the apparatus of its neighbor by inconsiderate use of a high-power current; also it must not cause undue interference. In other words, a bevy of ships, like a group of persons, must be courteous to one another. If a ship within a ten-mile radius of another is receiving signals that are so faint that they are difficult to distinguish, a neighboring vessel should not complicate matters by trying to transmit a message until the other ship has received what was coming in. This rule makes for ordinary politeness, that is all." "Couldn't the ship waiting to talk send a message in a different wave length?" inquired Dick. "Oh, yes; that would be quite possible, if the tune varied enough to make it perfectly distinct." "But what about high-power stations?" demanded Walter. "They handle important stuff and of course cannot keep stopping for other people to talk. Don't their powerful currents damage the receiving sets in stations near them? I should think they might even injure their own." "High-power, or long-distance stations have still another problem to meet and they meet it in a different way," responded Bob. "In order that the currents they are obliged to use shall not destroy detectors and other delicate receiving apparatus they carry on what are known as duplex operations. That is, the receiving station is constructed at some distance from the sending station--often several miles away--and the two parts of the service are performed independently by different antennæ. In this way sending and receiving can be carried on at the same time in slightly varying wave lengths." "But how can they talk and act as one station if they are so far apart?" questioned His Highness much puzzled. "It is not as impossible as it seems. The operator at the sending station has a small sending key connected by electricity with a relay at the receiving station. By means of a lever and certain complex paraphernalia this key can be used as the sending key for the main apparatus. Thus the station operated by distant control carries on a duplex system of transmission so that both sending and receiving stations are kept in touch with one another." "That is clever!" interrupted Mr. Crowninshield. "A high-power station has to be ingeniously equipped," responded Bob, "for it does a great deal of business, rapid business and business that is important. In some stations so fast do the messages come in and so long are they that an automatic tape not unlike that seen at the stock exchange is used to make perforated records of the dots and dashes. Later this punctured slip can be run through a Morse writer and the message taken down at leisure by the operator. Or sometimes photographic or phonographic records are resorted to and these like the others can be reproduced at a slower rate of speed and interpreted by the operator." "I should like that and then I wouldn't have to hurry," murmured Nancy. "It must be jolly to be an operator in a long-distance station," mused Dick, "where real things are going on." "Perhaps it is," was Bob's nonchalant answer. "I fancy, though, that very vital government messages go in cipher. Uncle Sam isn't risking having his secrets published far and wide over the face of the whole earth. Although for that matter all radio messages are secret." "But how can they be if any and everybody can listen in?" "Well, on a high-power wave length probably ordinary persons would not be able to listen in. Their apparatus would not be equipped for it. Should a station be able to, however, during critical periods, such as times of war, the government takes no chances and orders all but certain specified stations dismantled. That puts an end to intruders unless a spy has a hidden wireless somewhere; and if he has he takes an almighty risk with his neck, that is all I can say," concluded Bob with a grin. "But operators have tongues and can talk," Mrs. Crowninshield suggested. "Don't they sometimes?" "Usually they do not know what the message passing through their hands means," Bob answered. "But even should they contrive to study it out they would not dare repeat it because of the penalty entailed." "Penalty?" The young operator nodded. "You would not have to concern yourself much about blabbers if you heard what happens to them," piped Walter, who suddenly found himself on ground which previous instruction had rendered familiar. "It's off with their heads!" "Not really!" gasped the horrified Nancy. "Oh, he does not mean literally," the elder brother explained. "But it is away with their license which is almost as disastrous a fate to a man who has planned to make his living by wireless. Nor is the loss of the license all that happens. In addition one is liable to a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar fine or three years' imprisonment." "Jove! They do come down on you!" Dick averred. "Ra-_ther_! You know, of course, that if you violate any clause of your radio agreement you may be fined one hundred dollars; and should an operator fake a distress call the fine is twenty-five hundred dollars, or five years in prison and perhaps both. Even the smallest fine one can get off with for such an offense is two years behind the bars. It makes you think twice before playing that little joke. The government is wise, too, to spread it on thick, for to fake an S O S which is given the right of way over every other signal would be a contemptible trick. Mild punishments like fines and imprisonments would be too good for the wretch who would so deliberately mislead people. Moreover a few such offenses would cause the importance of the call to be discredited so that in time nobody would be in a rush to pay attention to it." "I didn't realize an S O S so invariably had the right of way," meditated Dick. "Of course I knew it was the distress signal at sea." "S O S in the International Morse Code is the universal distress call adopted by the common consent of our civilized nations at the wireless convention held at Berlin in 1906. Every radio station ashore or afloat is obliged to give it first place and do everything possible to further its demands. When a distress call is heard all ships and stations everywhere that hear it are in honor bound to stop whatever they may be doing and listen; nor must they try to talk with the ship herself unless she asks them to. Instead, after she has sent out her call for attention, which is equivalent to our _Hello_ of the telephone, she gives her name; the name of the station or ship she wishes to talk with; states what the matter is; and defines as nearly as she is able her position. This done she sends out a general call and if the station or ship she has asked aid from has not caught the signal and fails to answer her, any operator within hearing may do so. The instant he begins to talk with her, however, all the others listening in must remain silent. At last, when the message is delivered or the necessary conversation at an end, then the ship's radio man sends out a broadcast to let everybody know that he has finished so that all stations may resume their regular routine." "Some system!" breathed Dick. "I guess you would think there was some system if you were to see a book of radio rules," returned Bob. "I'll show you mine some day. All the various shore stations have their many regulations, as I have told you before; shipboard stations have theirs; and even the amateurs are protected so that every class may get fair play and not bother his neighbor. Wireless stations, you see, are not mere toys. They have work to do and must be able to do it unhampered." "I'd like a glimpse of that manual," suggested Dick. "I'll bring it round to-morrow," Bob answered, glancing at his watch and rising. The others rose too. "I suppose it would be no use to listen in for O'Connel again," remarked Mr. Crowninshield. "I will if you like," Bob responded. "I doubt, though, if it would do any good." "No, I guess it wouldn't. We shall just have to wait," sighed the man. CHAPTER XVIII THE NET TIGHTENS When on the morrow no call of any kind came from O'Connel Mr. Crowninshield was, as his son expressed it, "fit to be tied." "I can't see why we do not hear something to-day," fumed he. "He can't expect us to _wait developments_ forever. Are you sure you did not miss the signal, Bob." "I don't see how I could have missed it," replied the operator patiently. "But he always does call, doesn't he?" "He has for the last few days." "Then why not to-day?" "I cannot imagine. Perhaps he couldn't." "You don't suppose anything has happened to Lola, do you?" "Who can tell?" "You are right; it was a foolish question," admitted the financier, accepting the rebuke gracefully. "Still, I cannot help being anxious and wondering." "Of course not." "If only that miserable inspector would turn up and you could get your license! It is absurd that you cannot send a message, a man of your experience!" "I am as sorry about the delay as you are," Bob answered. "Perhaps I am more so. Nevertheless I am not going to break the rules. Besides, were we to call O'Connel, it might arouse suspicion and get him into trouble. It is far better to leave the calling to him." "But he hasn't called." "Then there is some good reason, I'll be bound. He knows what he is about when he says to await developments." "Maybe he does," sighed the elder man. "However, I am not much used to waiting. When I want a thing done, I want it done." Bob smiled at the characteristic remark. "You cannot whisk everything off like that," observed he. "Sometimes it is necessary----" "To wait? Yes, I suppose so," put in Mr. Crowninshield. "Well, I will hold my horses for one more day. But I warn you to-morrow I shall do something. I can't be hanging around like this--not knowing anything or hearing anything." "It is hard," Bob returned sympathetically. "It is hard for one born in New York and accustomed to seeing things hum," asserted the owner of Surfside with a wry smile. "Well, we must try to forget it, that's all. Come, get your books and let us go on with our radio lesson from the point where we left it yesterday. The rest of them are waiting and there seems to be nothing better that we can do." Fortunately Bob was not sensitive enough to be hurt by the thrust. "I'll be right along," agreed he, "as soon as I have locked up here." On reaching the veranda he found his class assembled and the first comment to reach his ears was: "No news from O'Connel, eh?" "No, Dick." "What in thunder do you suppose has become of him?" Bob put his finger to his lips and taking the hint the boy abandoned the subject, inquiring instead: "Isn't it a bore to have to listen in at just such a time every day whether it is convenient or not--I mean when you are in charge of a station." "Sometimes it is," Bob responded. "Still, it is your job and you expect to put it first and fit your own affairs in around it. Besides, you get used to the regularity of the hours and soon do not notice the monotony of the rules. You can readily understand why, at all official radio stations, somebody must always be on the watch for S O S calls. On shipboard there are three classes of wireless stations: those having continual service with an operator who always has his ear to the receiver while the ship is in motion; those where the office is open only at stated hours and an operator listening merely for a limited time; and those whose operators have no fixed time beyond listening in the first ten minutes of each hour." "The ship decides which kind of station it will have, I suppose," Nancy remarked. "Indeed it doesn't," Bob contradicted, with a shake of his head. "The government saves the vessel that trouble. It defines exactly the sort of station when it issues the license. Uncle Sam also bestows on each of these stations a name or combination of letters by which it shall be known and under which it is officially listed. Each country has a prescribed number of such letters allotted for its use at the International Convention at Berne, and our nation is authorized to use groups beginning with N and W; also triple groups of KIA to KZZ. You will find all these call letters in a book that contains the wireless telegraph stations of the world, a volume issued by the international publication office at Berne." "Can any one get one?" inquired Walter. "Certainly, if he has the price," smiled the older brother. "I guess you do not need one, though. A local call book would answer most purposes. It would hardly be necessary for you to call any foreign offices, and I even doubt if you would need to summon Sayville, Tuckerton, New Brunswick, Marion, or Annapolis." "Those are our trans-Atlantic stations, aren't they?" asked Dick. "Some of them," Bob said. "We have others, though, that can talk with Europe. There is one at San Diego; Pearl Harbor in Hawaii; and Cavite in the Philippines. There are also Marconi stations at Kahuka and Bolinas. In addition to these, the government has a number of high-power stations scattered throughout the country. Arlington, Virginia----" "Sends out the time," put in Walter with disconcerting promptness. "It sure does, sonny." "How many foreign countries can talk with us?" inquired Nancy. "A short time ago there were eight that could talk direct. One is at Funabashi, Japan; one at Carnarvon, Wales; two in France, one at Nantes and one at Lyons; Rome, Italy, has one; Germany has one at Nauen and one at Eilvese, Hanover; and Norway has one at Stavanger. Then in Canada there are two transatlantic stations." "Glace Bay!" piped the incorrigible Walter. Bob patted his head with a mock fatherly gesture. "Very good, son," said he, at which everybody laughed. "These stations," he went on, "are all equipped with very high power, varying in wave length anywhere from 17,600 to 6,000 meters. Most of our stations are pretty powerful, anyway. Pearl Harbor, for instance, has a 13,000 wave length; Cavite 12,000; Sayville, 11,600; Tuckerton, owned by a French company, about 8,700; New Brunswick, New Jersey, 13,600; Marion, Massachusetts, 14,400; and Annapolis, 17,600. Only a few foreign stations can match these in range. Carnarvon has two wave lengths: 14,000 and 11,500; Lyons, 15,500; Nantes, 10,000; Rome, 11,500; Nauen, 12,550; Eilvese (Hanover), 15,000 and 9,600; and Stavanger, Norway, 9,600. There are many, however, that vary from 7,000 to 4,000 and can transmit messages by relaying them." "I wish my set could send farther," Dick murmured regretfully. "It sends as far as the law allows. We must therefore abide by Uncle Sam's judgment and be content. The scale is very carefully planned and the classifications made most intelligently, I think. Amateurs are limited to about a 200-meter wave length; low-power stations come next and are grouped under 1,600 meters. Of these the 750 wave is reserved for government stations such as radio compass stations, etc.; 600 meters is the commercial tune for large merchant ships; 476 that of submarines, aircraft, and small war vessels; and 300 meters is the commercial tune for small vessels. After that we pass into the higher group, all of which come under the head of medium-power stations. These range from 4,000 to 1,800 meters and first on the list are the government ships which have continuous waves and a length of from 3,000 to 4,000 meters. Following them come the experimental and miscellaneous stations with a 3,000 to 2,000-meter range; and after them the 1,800-meter class which is the commercial tune for continuous waves." "And the high-power stations are the last, I suppose," put in Dick. "Yes, those designed for trans-oceanic service. These range from 20,000 to 6,000 meters. The distinctions are, you see, quite positively made and everybody must keep within his assigned pigeon-hole." "I reckon I'll keep in mine," announced Dick. "I should advise it if you want smooth sailing," retorted Bob. "You will hardly----" but the sentence was never finished for a maid approached Mr. Crowninshield at the moment and whispered: "The telephone, sir; New York is speaking." "New York, Dad!" exclaimed Dick excitedly. "It may be Lyman or Dacie." "More likely it is the office," replied his mother. "Some business matter, I fancy," said Mr. Crowninshield as he rose. "I'm sorry to interrupt the lesson." "I was just about through, sir." "I'll be back in a moment probably." "Poor father always has telephone calls," lamented Nancy sympathetically. "If he ever starts out to play golf somebody is sure to want him. Sometimes I wish that New York office was in the bottom of the sea." "I guess you'd have precious little bread and butter if it was," announced Dick with brotherly sarcasm. "Certainly you wouldn't be able to provide me with any," Nancy flashed back with a teasing laugh. "Children!" interposed Mrs. Crowninshield. "Here's Dad! Well, Pater, what was it?" asked Dick. Then on observing his father was unwontedly excited he repeated, "What's up, Dad?" "It was Lyman," Mr. Crowninshield answered. "The New York police have run down two men and Mr. Lyman wants Bob to come over and see if he can identify either of them as the one who kidnapped Lola." "You could identify him, couldn't you, Bob?" Walter put in. "Of course I could. Didn't the chap come into the station to get water for his machine?" was the instant reply. "I talked with him quite a bit while he was fixing up his engine. He seemed in a powerful rush to be off and wasn't overgracious." "But could Bob leave now, Archibald?" questioned his wife. "Isn't there the possibility of news from Mr. O'Connel?" "Jove! I had forgotten that." "Maybe O'Connel won't call; he didn't to-day, you know," Nancy said. "It seems to me Bob ought to go and land those chaps if there is a chance of doing it," Dick declared. "He would not need to be gone more than one night, would he?" "No. Nevertheless, he would miss the morning wireless," returned Mr. Crowninshield. "Should there be important news we should not get it." "It is a pity you boys can't take a message," Nancy remarked, turning toward her brother and Walter. "If you only had your Morse code learned you might be quite some good to us now." "I wish I had whooped up on it faster," bewailed Dick, with engaging candor. "I'm an awful rotter--plain lazy, I guess." "Well, I don't know but we'd better let Bob go, all things considered," observed Mr. Crowninshield, who had been quietly thinking the matter over. "I say Bob goes, too," reiterated Dick. "It is worth something to put such fellows as those dog thieves behind the bars." "You can connect with the Fall River boat or one passing through the Canal and be in New York in the morning, Bob," the elder man asserted. "Lyman will meet you, hustle things along, and send you home on the noon train. With Dick's racing car to pick you up somewhere along the line there is no reason why we should not have you back here before another morning. You've no time to spare, though, for lingering and discussing wireless and its wonders. Trot along and pack up your duds and get some luncheon. I'll call up Wheeler and have him ready to carry you to the train. Do not bother your head about connections; I will look up everything and tell you exactly what to do." In a flurry of anticipation off hastened Bob. "Gee! Isn't it the limit that we haven't brains enough to get O'Connel?" murmured Dick to Walter in a disgusted whisper. "I ought to have duffed in harder on the blamed code. But I thought there was no hurry. We seemed to have all summer to learn it." "Maybe he won't call," His Highness suggested hopefully. "I hope to blazes he doesn't," was the retort. "I'd feel cheap as dirt to have that ticker go clicking out a message and I not be able to get a word of it." CHAPTER XIX WALTER STEPS INTO THE BREACH With Bob gone and radio lessons suspended the following morning seemed to both Dick and Walter an unwontedly quiet one. Moreover with a scorching sun high in the heaven, no breeze, and a dead low tide most of the activities to which the boys might have resorted were out of the question. "Think of the sailing breeze we've seen blowing lots of mornings when we couldn't go out," grumbled Dick. "Isn't it infernal luck?" "Why don't you take your car and go for a spin," Nancy suggested. "Wheeler has it, silly. He's meeting Bob." "I couldn't go motoring anyway," put in Walter. "I've got the dogs to chase round." "You're not going out with them now," objected Dick. "Not quite yet. I had them out before breakfast." "What do you say we go over and fool round with the radio a while?" Dick yawned. "We've nothing better to do." "All right. We can at least listen in for a spell. We've got that far." "You boys better not go getting that wireless all out of order while Bob is away," cautioned Nancy. "He'd be ripping mad to get home and find it out of commission. Father wouldn't like it, either." "Oh, we're not going to hurt the precious radio," sniffed Dick. "Don't you think we know anything?" "Not much," fluted Nancy as she flounced away. "At least she does not flatter us," grinned His Highness, quite unruffled by the girl's frankness. "Oh, sisters never think a fellow knows anything, especially when they're older," Dick grumbled, as he unlocked the door of the low building and met the blast of close, stifling air that came out. "Scott! The place is like an oven, isn't it? Open a window, can't you?" he continued. "Sure! There is some heat, I'll say. Just as well we dropped round if only to air the place out," Walter replied. Together they switched on the current, regulated amplifier, detector, and tuner, and each with a head receiver tight to his ears sat down. "Whee, but it is thick, to-day!" shouted Dick. "Run the tune up, kid, and see if we get anything." "It is always bad a day like this," called Walter. "Besides, everybody seems to be butting in in the morning. Infernal, isn't it?" "Let her go up to O'Connel's pitch. It can't do any harm." "It isn't time for him to call, is it?" "Pretty near." "But what good would it do even if we did get his signal?" "We should at least know he had something to say to us." "I should consider that a negative satisfaction," Walter replied. "It would just be an aggravation. However, here she goes! As you say, it can harm nobody to get the right meter." "There's that old commercial station up the Cape," announced Dick, presently. "That fellow is always on the job at this hour." "Probably he has to be, poor soul," Walter returned. "We'll get rid of him in a minute. _What was that?_" "It is some one on our line. That's the _Siren's_ call. It's O'Connel! Jove! What are you doing, man? What are you going to do?" asked Dick excitedly as he saw Walter's hand go out. "Paper! Pencil! Hurry, can't you?" gasped Walter. "Do you mean----" "Let's both take it down in dots and dashes. Between us we may be able to make some sense out of it afterward. Quick!" Clearly and evenly the message ticked itself off. Then there was silence. "Get any of it?" Walter demanded, breathlessly tossing the receiver aside and shutting off the current. "About two words. He went so fast----Did you get anything?" "Oh, I've got something; but whether it will make any sense remains to be seen," said His Highness eagerly. "Where is the key! Toss it over." [Illustration: Clearly and evenly the message ticked itself off. Then there was silence. _Page_ 240.] "Here we go. Dot, dash,----" "That's the letter A, you squarehead! I know what that first part is; it is always the same and we needn't fuss to translate it. _Aboard yacht Siren._ I don't care, either, where she is. What we want to get at is what she wants to say." "But how can we tell where all that stuff leaves off?" "I mean to tell," declared Walter with determination. "But there is punctuation and other rubbish mixed in with the letters." "No matter. Have a little patience, man!" Nevertheless, in spite of all the patience and perseverance the boys could muster the magic message remained an enigma and at the end of an hour both were obliged to admit themselves beaten. "It is worse than getting no message at all," lamented Walter. "It certainly does not do us much good," assented Dick. "Do you suppose your father knows anything about the Morse code?" "Dad? Good heavens, no! Still we might take the thing up to the house and show it to him." "I don't imagine it is right, do you?" speculated Walter. "No doubt we missed some of it or made mistakes. Still, what we contrived to write agrees fairly well, so some of it must be correct. Let's take it to your father. What do you say?" "I feel like such a boob not to be able to make it out," Dick answered with evident reluctance at confessing himself floored. "But we'll have to tell him O'Connel called. We've got to do that anyhow; so he may as well know the rest of it," Walter persisted. "All right. We'll hunt him up. I warn you, though, that he will josh us most unmercifully. He'll pitch into me, too, and ask me why I haven't learned my Morse International before this. See if he doesn't." "It is one thing to learn the code out of a book and quite another to be smart enough to read it or take it down," Walter maintained stoutly. "Nobody ought to expect you to be able to get a message the way Bob does. Why, he has been at the job years!" "I know he has," Dick responded, slightly comforted. "Still, Dad will rag me, just the same. See if he doesn't!" Locking the door and pausing to gain courage they set out over the lawn. Then suddenly, midway across the grass, His Highness came to a stop. "Mr. Burns!" he cried, wheeling round. "Why didn't I think of him before?" "What on earth are you talking about?" asked Dick, astounded by his companion's strange conduct. "Mr. Burns!" repeated Walter. "Come along. Can't one of the chauffeurs take us down there?" "For mercy's sake who is Mr. Burns, and why do you want to go and see him hot off the bat?" "Mr. Burns, the telegraph operator," Walter contrived to stammer. "He must know Morse International. He has to know both the Morse American which telegraph operators use on land, and the other code, I'm pretty sure." "But maybe what we've got down doesn't make sense," objected Dick. "You've a husky nerve to go toting that scrawl of ours to a professional." "I don't care," grinned Walter. "I'm not afraid of Mr. Burns. He's driven me out of the station too many times when I was a kid. I will own, however, that I have more respect for him since I've learned what it means to run a telegraph." "He may drive you out of the station this time," Dick ventured with a grimace. "I'll bet he won't," was the sanguine response. "We've made it up since then. I've even helped old Burnsie shovel his snow now and then. He'll do a good turn for me, I'll bet." "Come on then, if you are so sure of it," Dick answered, striding toward the garage. "You're sure your father won't mind our taking the car?" "He doesn't want it this morning. He is going to hang round and see if Bob calls him from New York. Besides, he said it was too hot to motor. Will Burns be at the station now?" "He will if a train is due," announced Walter. "If the office is locked we can chase him to his house." "All right! This is your party, remember," Dick said a trifle wickedly. It was evident he had no faith in the expedition. Notwithstanding his skepticisms, however, he ordered out the car and he and Walter sped away on their errand. "It is time for a train," announced Walter in an undertone, as they neared the station. "See, there are people waiting. It is the noon train from Boston." "Burns will be too busy then to bother his head over fake messages, I guess," sniffed Dick. "Maybe not. At least we can try him," was His Highness's optimistic assertion. "Hi, Mr. Burns!" The lad was out of the car and hastening along in the wake of a much sunburned station agent in blue denim overalls. "Wal, if it ain't Walter King! What you after, young one? I hear you've become the proprietor of Surfside--bought out the whole darn place for yourself." "I did buy it but I'm going to sell it again. It's too small. I can't get room enough to stretch up there," came impishly from the lad on the platform. "Show! You don't say!" drawled Mr. Burns with obvious relish of the joke. "Well, it ain't wise to be cramped. Maybe you wouldn't get your growth if you were." He cast a glance toward the short, thick-set figure behind him. "I say, Mr. Burns," burst out Walter, "are you terribly busy? I've got something I want to show you." "What is it?" demanded the man, halting and holding suspended in his hand a cerulean blue egg case. "I don't know what it is--that's just the trouble," answered Walter mysteriously. "What you up to anyhow?" demanded Mr. Burns suspiciously. Walter thrust forth the sheet of paper he had drawn from his pocket. In his rough, grimy hand the telegraph operator took it. "Where did you get this?" demanded he, glancing sharply over the top of his spectacles. "Why, we have a wireless up at Surfside and this thing--or something like it that we didn't know enough to write down, came this morning." "But I heard your brother Bob was up there." "He had to go to New York yesterday." "And left you to tend the tape, did he?" grinned the old man. "Not much. He knows I'd be a duffer at the job," affirmed Walter. "Mebbe you ain't as much of a duffer as you think. You managed to get this down on paper." "We managed to together--Dick and I," explained Walter. "I don't suppose, though, we got it anywhere near straight. Does it make any sense at all?" "Sure it makes sense!" announced Mr. Burns with a vim that quite took Walter's breath away. "There's queer spots in it here and there--a few letters that ain't needed, perhaps. Still, you can omit 'em since they serve no particular purpose." "But what is the message? What does it say?" clamored Walter all impatience. "Well, it ain't so thrillin' you need to go into a thousand pieces over it," commented the Cape Codder dryly. "Some friend of Mr. Crowninshield's 'pears to be comin' down here on the afternoon train bringin' with him his wife--either his wife or daughter." "What!" Walter ejaculated weakly. "That's what he says," continued Mr. Burns, calmly rereading the document he held. "Evidently some relation--or at least a person who feels he has the right to boss, for he says he wants to be met at the train." "Did I get the name?" "Yes, that's here. I may's well read you the whole thing with the exception of the extra touches you've added." "I wish to goodness you would." "'Tain't nothin' interestin', as I said before," insisted Mr. Burns, readjusting his spectacles. "'_Coming on afternoon train and bringing Lola. Meet me, O'Con_----' Where in thunder you goin?" The operator gazed in amazement as a pair of chubby legs vanished up the platform. "That's all right, Mr. Burns! I don't want the paper back. You can keep it to remember me by. Thanks!" Then to Dick he shouted as he sprang into the car: "We're off for home fast as we can make it, old man! Such news! Your father will be crazy! Whee! Hurrah!" "If it is all the same to you," observed Dick with scorching sarcasm, "it would be pleasant to know the import of the message I took down." "_You_ took down--well I like that! _You_ took down! Why, man, you could not even read it yourself! It is the message _I_ took down, my son." "_We_ took down," corrected Dick. They both laughed. "O'Connel's coming this afternoon! What do you say to that?" "Great Scott! But what----" "He's bringing his wife or daughter," continued Walter with a wicked twinkle in his eye. "What?" exclaimed his bewildered listener. "Oh, this is rich! Rich!" continued His Highness with a paroxysm of laughter. "Wait until we tell your father! My soul and body! I'm sick laughing!" "You might tell me the joke." "I can't--I can't!" roared the boy. "It is too good!" "And--and what about Lola?" stammered Dick. "Why, you see Burns thought--my, but it's rich! Ha, ha! Burns understood that--oh, it's a scream!" and with that Dick was forced to be content. CHAPTER XX THE RETURN OF THE WANDERERS When Walter and Dick returned to Surfside with their tidings Mr. Crowninshield's satisfaction and delight could hardly be expressed. How he laughed at Burns's interpretation of O'Connel's message! And how Dick laughed when at last the joke was imparted to him! "Well, you two boys have been almighty clever between you," commented the elder man. "I would not have credited either of you with so many brains. To think of your getting that radio call! It is marvelous. And then to take it to Burns! That was a master stroke. The idea would never have entered my head. But what puzzles me is the message itself. Do you suppose O'Connel has kidnapped Lola; or how has he got possession of her? And how has he contrived to escape from the yacht without being held up? I don't understand it at all. It isn't likely Daly has let him walk off unmolested with the dog. The thing is more than I can fathom." "Perhaps Mr. Daly has relented and is sending Lola back," suggested Walter. "Not on your life, youngster! You don't know Daly," was the instant reply. "He would never admit himself beaten and give up that pup. Moreover the affair has cost him too much money, risk and trouble for him to abandon his scheme. If he wanted Lola bad enough to hire somebody to steal her he still wants her, mark my word! No, there is something behind all this that we haven't reached. O'Connel has made off with the dog somehow. Just how I am at a loss to tell. We shall have to wait until he himself comes and enlightens us." "Anything heard from Bob?" questioned Walter. "Yes, I've had a wire. They've got the men they were after all right and he will be back to-night." "What did he say about it?" asked Dick eagerly. "Nothing. You cannot tell an entire story in a telegram, you know. But he has accomplished what he went for. I fancy he always does," added the master of the estate with a smile. "Generally, sir," nodded Walter proudly. Mr. Crowninshield took a turn or two across the room. "I mean to keep Bob with us this winter if I can prevail upon him to stay," remarked the financier presently. "He is too able a chap to lose sight of. I can find a big paying berth for him in New York and if he will take it, your mother won't have to worry any further about money affairs. And if you, sonny, make good and do as well as your brother"--he patted Walter's shoulder, "I'll do the same for you some day. You have done well this summer. Finish up your school work and then we'll see." "You are very kind, Mr. Crowninshield," the boy stammered. "Not a bit. We all ought to give the chap who is willing to climb a hand up the ladder. What are we in the world for?" "I know my mother will be----" "There, there!" interrupted the great man. "Your mother has two fine sons that she may well be proud of. She has had a little hard sledding to get them on their feet, that's all. Now it is their turn to lift the burden and repay her. I am simply going to see that they get the chance to do it. The rest I feel certain I can leave to them." "We do want to help mother," Walter replied with sincerity. "I know you do; both of you have proved it this summer. From now on I intend your mother shall have no anxiety about her finances. We'll put her where she will be perfectly independent of those uncles of yours, and of summer boarders as well." The lip of His Highness trembled and he could not speak. "Some day I expect Dick and Nancy will be looking out for their mother and me just this way," continued Mr. Crowninshield half humorously. "There will be Lola to support, too." Dick burst into a peal of laughter. "You will have to cut out indulging in so many detectives if I'm to pay the bills, Dad," answered he. "Oh, you must not deprive me of my little luxuries," returned his father. "One must have some amusement, remember." "I'm afraid you will have to choose a cheaper one then." "I'll think it over. If, however, I discover you cannot maintain me and my trifling pleasures I may abandon you and turn to Walter to support me in my old age." Lighting a cigar he strolled away. The boys ambled toward the boathouse. There was still three hours before the Boston train, bringing O'Connel, would arrive. In the meantime they indulged in a swim; took the dogs for a run; had luncheon; paddled round the bay in Dick's canoe; and did everything they could think of to hurry the moments along. And when the car bearing Mr. Crowninshield and O'Connel did actually roll into the drive what a state of excitement they were in! Yes, there was Lola--there was no contesting that! She was a weak, wretched little dog but it was she. "However did you manage it, Mr. O'Connel?" cried Mrs. Crowninshield who had come racing down the steps and gathered her favorite into her arms. Breathlessly the group clustered about the wee puppy. "Well, the first thing I did was to convince myself the dog aboard the yacht was really the one we were after. One day when the party went ashore I hunted up the supposed Trixie and called her by her real name. You should have seen her prick up her ears, poor little mite! I had her licking my hand inside a minute. From that instant I began to scheme. I found I couldn't send you many radio calls because they watched me too closely. I think the mate suspected something--just what, I could not make out, for I don't think he was in the secret of the dog's capture. Anyway, I decided to steer clear of the wireless and trust to luck. At last my chance came. Some equipment was needed and it was decided I was to be put ashore and get it. By this time Lola, who for the last few days had refused to eat, had begun to show decidedly alarming symptoms. I diagnosed the case as plain homesickness and privately resolved to get her off the yacht if it was a possible thing; but Mr. Daly thought she had distemper or something and was mightily cut up. He didn't want the animal to die on his hands after all he had gone through to get her. Altogether he began to be pretty uneasy and you may be sure I did my part to make him so. Every chance I got I would remark how sick his dog seemed. Of course I wasn't supposed to know it wasn't one he had had for years. I kept harping on the puppie's health until I had him fussed to death. At last he said: 'I don't know but what you are right about Trixie, O'Connel. If they are going to put you ashore at Boston to buy supplies, why wouldn't it be a good plan for you to take the dog to the animal hospital there? You could leave her and later we could go back and get her. She does seem ailing, and I haven't the ghost of an idea what to do with a sick dog. Besides, she is a nuisance on the yacht if she must be catered to all the time.' Well, as you can imagine, I jumped at the chance although I took every pains not to let him suspect I did. I told him that of course if he wanted me to take the dog I should be glad to do it. I liked animals and also I wished to accommodate him. There was no denying, however, that to carry Lola with me would delay me in town. Still, if he desired it I would do my best to see that she was taken _where she would get well_." The big fellow paused and laughed heartily. "I've kept that promise, too," grinned he. "I have sent a note back to the _Siren_ recalling the phrase to Mr. Daly, and telling him that having decided Lola would recover more completely if placed under the protection of her rightful owners I was taking her back there." "I'd like to see his face when he gets that letter!" said Mr. Crowninshield, rubbing his hands. "So should I," roared O'Connel, his broad shoulders shaking. "But won't he----" Mrs. Crowninshield looked anxious. "Won't he what, my dear?" inquired her husband. "Aren't you afraid he will be angry and----" she held the wee dog closer in her arms. "He will be angry all right," agreed O'Connel. "But you need have no fears that he will do anything more, ma'am. He is on too dangerous ground. In the first place he cannot accuse me of appropriating his dog for I can answer him that it was stolen in the first place. And he cannot say I deserted his ship for all is fair in love and war, you know. No, Daly is a good sport and he will instantly understand that he has been beaten. We have been one too many for him, that is all. Moreover, he won't be feeling any too comfortable for he is still uncertain as to what Mr. Crowninshield may be planning to do with him. Oh, Daly won't stir up trouble. You can trust him for that. On the contrary he probably will clear out of reach of any possible storm. It is his only course and he will be canny enough to take it." "But you are not going to let him go scott free, are you Dad?" demanded Dick. "Oh, I don't know. What's the use of fighting a skunk like that? We have our dog back and Daly must acknowledge that he has been beaten. That is about all I want. He won't try anything more for I have a whiplash over him as he is well aware. Any time I can prosecute him for receiving stolen goods and being an accomplice in a robbery. With the evidence I have such a case would go overwhelmingly against him should it reach the courts. He is not for bringing that issue to a head, you may rest assured of that." "But you do mean to jail the men who actually took Lola, Father," put in Nancy. "If you do that, won't the whole affair have to be aired and Mr. Daly dragged into the trial?" Her father did not answer immediately and before he had framed his reply wheels were heard and Wheeler, driving Dick's racing car, drew up at the steps. "It's Bob, as I live!" shouted Walter. "Hello, Bobbie! Hello, old chap!" "Welcome home, Bob!" called Mr. Crowninshield going forward to meet the lad. "We have a surprise for you, Bob!" called Nancy. "Guess who's here?" "I can't," smiled the wireless man coming up to the piazza and shaking hands all round. Then his eye lighted on O'Connel. "My word! How did you get here, old top? Fired from your job?" For answer Mrs. Crowninshield held up Lola. "The pup herself! Well, well! What's been happening in my absence, anyhow?" "I don't wonder you want to know," cried Nancy above the general clamor. "Hush! Do stop everybody. You are making a far worse noise than ever came through that radiophone." "First let's have Bob's story. We haven't heard that yet," Mr. Crowninshield said. "Tell us what happened to you in New York, my boy." Bob dropped into a chair. "Well, as I wired you, Dacie and Lyman have landed your men. I recognized the fellow who came to Seaver Bay for water the instant I set eyes on him. He recognized me, too, and knew the game was up. It seems, though, that he and his pal are wanted in California on a prior charge. A big burglary, I think it is. Anyway, they have got to be taken out there and tried first. In the meantime our complaint can be lodged against them and----" "Aren't we to have the fun of jailing them after all?" asked Dick in dismay. "They will be jailed, never fear," returned Bob. "They will get a stiff sentence, too, I imagine." Mr. Crowninshield was silent and his wife now glanced toward him. "Are you disappointed, Archibald?" inquired she. "I guess," responded he slowly, "that is a good way out of our dilemma. The villains will be carried far away from this vicinity and will without doubt get all that's coming to them. What more can we ask? We've won the game--taken every trick and made a clean sweep of the whole business. Now that I've got Lola home I don't much care about the rest of it. What do you say we let well enough alone and drop it?" "I should say that with every day of your life you were growing wiser, my dear," answered his wife softly. FINIS. [Illustration: Publisher's logo] _The first volume in "The Invention Series"_ PAUL AND THE PRINTING PRESS _By_ SARA WARE BASSETT With illustrations by A. O. Scott _12mo. Cloth. 218 pages._ Paul Cameron, president of the class of 1920 in the Burmingham High School, conceives the idea of establishing a school paper, to the honor and glory of his class. So _The March Hare_ comes into existence, and Paul and his schoolfellows bend all their energies to making it a success. They have their difficulties and Paul in particular bears the brunt of their troubles, but _The March Hare_ lives up to its reputation for life and liveliness and becomes not only a class success, but a town institution. This is the first volume in "The Invention Series." "It is the sort of story that boys of fourteen years and upward will enjoy and ought to enjoy, a combination that is rarely achieved."--_Boston Post._ "A welcome volume which will appeal to boys who want a good story that will give some information as well."--_New York Evening Post._ "'Paul and the Printing Press' not only has a keen story interest, but has the advantage of carrying much valuable information for all young folks for whom the mysterious and all-powerful printing press has an attraction."--_Boston Herald._ LITTLE, BROWN & CO., PUBLISHERS 34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON 
36877	----	POST CARD +----------+ | PLACE | | ONE CENT | | STAMP | | HERE | +----------+ EMERSON RADIO and PHONOGRAPH CORP. 111 Eighth Avenue New York, N. Y. [Illustration: [Illustration: (_Model 39_)] PARIS LONDON MOSCOW BUENOS AIRES] Explore the exciting world of short-wave thrills. Reach out ... for London, Paris, Moscow, Buenos Aires ... scores more foreign stations ... in addition to your broadcast favorites ... on the airplane-type dial of a completely modern Emerson. The dealer from whom you bought your Emerson Auto-Radio will gladly demonstrate an [Illustration: _Emerson_ ROUND-THE-WORLD _Radio_ =============================== $39.50 ================== Complete with tubes.] FIFTEEN VARIED EMERSON MODELS TO SUIT EVERY TASTE AND PURPOSE. EMERSON RADIO GUARANTEE REGISTRY CARD Model_________________ Serial No_________________ Date_____________ Purchased From________________________________________________________ City_______________________________________ State_____________________ Upon receipt of this card we will register this set under our regular ninety day guarantee from date of purchase. Read attached Warranty. Kindly state below how you like the performance of your Emerson Radio: ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ Purchaser's Name____________________________________________ Address_____________________________________________________ BEND AND TEAR HERE IMPORTANT--CUSTOMER'S WARRANTY We warrant each new Emerson Radio Receiver to be free from defect in material and workmanship. Our obligations under this warranty are limited to the following: In the event that any part of this equipment proves defective and is returned, transportation charges prepaid, to the Emerson Radio & Phonograph Corp. within ninety (90) days from the date of sale by the dealer to his customer, the defective part will be replaced and any necessary labor supplied without cost to the customer. This warranty does not apply to any receiver which has been subject to misuse, neglect or accident, nor to any receiver which has not been connected in accordance with the instructions enclosed in the original container. Neither does it apply to any receiver, the serial number of which has been altered or removed. This warranty is in lieu of all other warranties expressed or implied; and we do not authorize any person or representative to assume for us any other liability in connection with our equipment. Warranty material is repaired or replaced. Credit is not issued. EMERSON RADIO and PHONOGRAPH CORP. 111 Eighth Avenue, New York City Transcriber's Notes No typographical corrections were required. Emphasis Notation _Text_ - Italics 
38453	----	[Illustration: "LOOK! OUR AERIAL IS STILL UP"] _THE RADIO BOYS SERIES_ (Trademark Registered) THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS OR THE MIDNIGHT CALL FOR ASSISTANCE BY ALLEN CHAPMAN AUTHOR OF THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT RALPH OF THE ROUNDHOUSE RALPH THE TRAIN DESPATCHER, ETC. WITH FORWARD BY JACK BINNS _ILLUSTRATED_ NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS Made in the United States of America BOOKS FOR BOYS By Allen Chapman 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. THE RADIO BOYS SERIES (Trademark Registered) THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS Or Winning the Ferberton Prize THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT Or The Message that Saved the Ship THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION Or Making Good in the Wireless Room THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS Or The Midnight Call for Assistance THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE Or Solving a Wireless Mystery THE RAILROAD SERIES RALPH OF THE ROUNDHOUSE Or Bound to Become a Railroad Man RALPH IN THE SWITCH TOWER Or Clearing the Track RALPH ON THE ENGINE Or The Young Fireman of the Limited Mail RALPH ON THE OVERLAND EXPRESS Or The Trials and Triumphs of a Young Engineer RALPH THE TRAIN DESPATCHER Or The Mystery of the Pay Car RALPH ON THE ARMY TRAIN Or The Young Railroader's Most Daring Exploit GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, New York Copyright, 1922, by GROSSET & DUNLAP _The Radio Boys at Mountain Pass_ FOREWORD By Jack Binns In the first chapter of this volume there appears a statement by "Bob," one of the Radio Boys, as follows: "Marconi is one of those fellows that can never rest satisfied with what's been done up to date." Perhaps no more concise summary of the driving force back of the men responsible for the tremendous development of radio could be made. It is just that refusal to be satisfied with what has been accomplished that has made wireless the greatest wonder development in the history of mankind. Although the radio boys in this case are but creatures of the author's imagination, nevertheless they are typical of all the men who have taken part in bringing radio to its present stage. Even Marconi himself likes to take pride in the assertion that he too was at one time an amateur, because he insists that during his early experiments he was only a boy amateur tinkering with a little known subject. There is undoubtedly a great deal of truth in his claim, because the experiments that led to his success were made while he was a youth studying at the Bologna University in Italy. What is true of Marconi is equally true of all the others. We have only to think of a name prominent in the field of wireless, and then trace back the history of the man who bears it, and you will come to an enthusiastic amateur. There is another fascinating thing about wireless, and it is the fact that no matter how much work one may really expend in tinkering with it, and no matter how valuable the results, it does not seem like real work. This is aptly phrased by Joe in the book who says: "I'd like to take it up as a regular profession. Think of what it must be for fellows like Armstrong and Edison, and De Forest and Marconi. I'll bet they don't think it's work." There is no doubt that Joe wins his bet. Jack Binns CONTENTS I--The Bear Pursues II--An Exciting Chase III--An Amazing Discovery IV--The Bully Appears V--A Startling Accusation VI--The Burned Cottage VII--Radio Wonders VIII--A Close Shave IX--Bucking the Drifts X--Convincing a Skeptic XI--A Mountain Radio Station XII--The Marvelous Science XIII--Pressed into Service XIV--Scoring a Triumph XV--The Snowslide XVI--The Modern Miracle XVII--Thrashing a Bully XVIII--A Nest of Conspirators XIX--On Guard XX--Broken Wires XXI--A Sudden Inspiration XXII--Putting It Through XXIII--The Midnight Call XXIV--A Plot That Went Wrong XXV--Solving the Mystery THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS CHAPTER I THE BEAR PURSUES "Nothing to do till tomorrow!" sang out Bob Layton, as he came out of high school at Clintonia on Friday afternoon, his books slung over his shoulder, and bounded down the steps three at a time. "And not much to do then, except just what we want to," chimed in Joe Atwood, throwing his cap into the air and catching it deftly as it came down. "You fellows do just love to work, don't you?" put in Herb Fennington, with an air of self-righteousness that was belied by the merry twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, we just dote on it," replied Bob. "Work is our middle name," asserted Joe. "In fact we lie awake nights trying to conjure up something to do." "Regular pair of Work Hard twins--I don't think," declared Jimmy Plummer. "Now as for me----" "Yes?" said Herb, with an assumption of polite interest. "As for me," repeated Jimmy, not at all daunted by the incredulity in Herb's tone, "I've been working like a horse all this season. A little more and I'll be only skin and bone." As Jimmy was by all odds the fattest boy in school, this assertion was greeted by a roar of laughter. "Now I know why you look like a string bean," chuckled Joe. "That explains why his clothes hang on him so loosely," laughed Bob, pointing to Jimmy's trousers which were so filled out that they resembled tights. "Jimmy, you may be an unconscious humorist, but you're a humorist just the same." Jimmy glared at his tormentors and tried to look wan and haggard, but the attempt was not a pronounced success. "All the same," he protested, "Doc. Preston has been rushing us like the old Harry all this fall, and what with school work and home work and radio work----" "Radio!" interrupted Bob. "You don't call that work, do you? Why it's fun, the greatest fun in the world." "You bet it is," chimed in Joe enthusiastically. "We never knew what real fun was until we took it up. Look at the adventures it's brought us. If it hadn't been for radio, we wouldn't have won those Ferberton prizes; we wouldn't have run down Dan Cassey and made him give back the mortgage he was trying to cheat Miss Berwick out of; and we wouldn't have got back the money he nearly got away with when he knocked out Brandon Harvey." "Right you are," agreed Bob. "And probably that boat our folks were on would have gone down with all on board if it hadn't been for the radio message that brought help to it. And see the good it did for Larry and the experience we had in sending out from the broadcasting station in Newark!" "I tell you, fellows, there's nothing like radio in the universe!" agreed Jimmy. "I'd like to take it up as a regular profession," said Joe. "Think of what it must be for fellows like Armstrong and Edison and De Forest and Marconi. I'll bet they don't think it's work. They're eager to get at it in the morning and sorry to knock off at night. There's no drudgery in a profession like that." "Speaking of Marconi," remarked Herb, "I see that he's just come over to America again on that yacht of his where he thought he heard signals that might have been from Mars. I wonder if he's heard any more of them." "I don't know," replied Bob thoughtfully. "Though I've become so used to what seem to be almost miracles that I'm prepared for almost anything. At any rate, the only thing one can do nowadays is to keep an open mind and not say beforehand that anything is impossible. It would be great, wouldn't it, if we could get in touch with another planet? And if we could with one, there doesn't seem to be any reason why we couldn't with all, that is if there's life and intelligence on them. But after all, at present that's only speculation. What interests me more just now is the discovery that Marconi is said to have made by which he is able to send out radio waves in one given direction." "I hadn't heard of that," remarked Joe. "I thought they spread out equally in all directions and that anybody who had a receiving set could take them." "So they have up to now," replied Bob. "But Marconi's one of those fellows that can never rest satisfied with what's been done up to date. That's what makes him great. I'm not exactly clear about this new idea of his, but the gist of it is that he throws a radio wave in a certain direction, much as a mirror throws a ray of light. He uses a reflector apparatus and the wave is caught at the receiving end on a horizontal metal standard. With a wave of only three and one half meters he has thrown a shaft nearly a hundred miles in just the direction he wanted it to go. The article I read said that he had some sort of semicircular reflector covered with wires that resembled a dish cut in half. When the open side is turned toward the receiving station he wants to reach, the signals are heard loud and clear. When the open part is turned away, the signals can't be heard. The whole idea is concentration. Just what a burning glass does with the rays of the sun, his device does with the radio waves. Marconi's a wizard, and that's all there is about it. There's no knowing what he may do next. But you can be sure that it'll be something new and valuable." "He's a wonder," agreed Joe heartily. "And if he's the 'father of wireless,' we've got to admit that he has a good healthy baby. I'm going to try to get on friendly terms with that baby." "We've already been introduced to it, if we haven't got much further," laughed Bob. "But say, fellows, what's the program for tomorrow?" "Three square meals," was Jimmy's suggestion. "Sure," agreed Herb. "Though in your run-down condition you ought to have at least six." "He'll get them, don't worry," chaffed Joe, unmoved by the reproach in Jimmy's eyes. "I was thinking----" Bob began. "How do you get that way?" inquired Herb composedly. "You'll never get that way," retorted Bob severely. "As I was saying when this lowbrow interrupted me, I was thinking that it might be a good idea to go nutting. The trees are full of nuts this year, and that frost we had a couple of nights ago will make it easy to get a raft of them. What do you say?" "I say yes with a capital Y," replied Joe. "Hits me just right," assented Herb. "It's the cat's high hat," was the inelegant way that Jimmy phrased it. "It's a go then," said Bob. "Come around to my house a little after eight tomorrow morning and we'll get an early start. Every fellow brings his own lunch, and we'll take some potatoes along to roast in the woods." "Here's hoping it will be a dandy day," said Herb, as the boys parted at Bob's gate. "It looks as though it were going to be," replied Bob, looking at the sky. "But after supper I'll tune in and get the weather report by radio." "Anything you don't do by radio?" asked Joe, with a grin. "Oh, I set my watch by the Arlington signal every night and a few other things," laughed Bob. "Fact is, I'm hanging around the receiving set every spare minute I have for fear I'll let something get by me. Radio has got me, and got me for fair." The weather report was favorable and Bob slept in peace. And when he opened his eyes on the following morning he found that Uncle Sam's weather bureau had been right in this particular instance, for a lovelier fall morning, to his way of thinking, had never dawned. He ate breakfast a little more quickly than usual, and had barely finished when the other radio boys were at his door loaded with lunches and ready to start. Jimmy especially was well furnished in the matter of provisions, for he carried two packages while the rest of the boys were content with one. "Aren't you afraid you'll be hunchbacked carrying both those bales of goods?" asked Herb, with mock anxiety. "Not a bit," responded Jimmy cheerfully. "One of them is full of doughnuts, and I expect to eat them on the way. You see I was in such a hurry that I didn't eat much of a breakfast----" "What?" exclaimed Bob. "Can I believe my ears?" asked Herb plaintively. "Say it again and say it slow," urged Joe. "I mean," Jimmy hurried to correct himself, "not so much as I might have eaten. I had a bit of cereal----" "Catch on to that 'bit,'" murmured Herb. "And some bacon and eggs and a slice of cold meat from the roast last night and some hot rolls and----" "Outside of that you didn't have anything to eat," said Joe. "All right, Jimmy, old boy, we understand. But shake a leg now and let's get under way. This is too fine a day to be spending it in a chinfest, and besides we can have plenty of that as we go along." The air was brisk and stimulating, with just enough warmth imparted by the sun to prevent its being cold, and a soft autumnal haze hung over the landscape and clothed it in mellow beauty. It was the kind of day when Nature is at her best and when it is good just to be alive. The boys were like so many young colts turned out to pasture, and joked and jested as they went along. Laughter came easily to their lips and shone through their eyes, while the joy of youth ran through their veins and made them tingle to their finger-tips. Life was roseate and they had not a care in the world. A walk of between two and three miles brought them to the woods for which they had set out. The forest covered a great many acres and was full of noble trees, chestnut, hickory, and many other varieties. As Bob had said, the year had been an unusually good one for nuts, and the trees were loaded with them. The frost of a little time before had been just sufficient to make them ready to pick, and the ground was already strewn with the half-opened burrs of many that had been shaken from the trees. Others still hung to the boughs by so slender and brittle a thread that it was only necessary to hurl clubs up into the trees to have them come down in showers. The boys had brought big bags along with them to carry the nuts they might gather, and before long these had most of the wrinkles spread out of them by the steadily accumulating collection of chestnuts that formed the bulk of their treasure, although they had a good many hickory nuts as well. The active work gave them all an appetite, a thing that came to them very easily under almost any circumstances, and a little before noon they ceased for a while from gathering the nuts and bestirred themselves in gathering leaves and brushwood for a fire. Their bags were more than half full, and from what they had seen they knew they would have little trouble in finishing filling them up to the very drawing strings. They gathered together a little cairn of rocks and built the fire inside of it, keeping it fed to such effect that before long the stones were at a white heat. Then they drew the fire away and on the heated stones roasted their potatoes and a large number of the chestnuts they had gathered. They had brought plenty of salt and butter along, and when at last the potatoes were done they seasoned them and ate them with a relish exceeding anything that would have attended the eating of them at a regular meal in their homes. An epicure might have complained of the smoky flavor, but to the boys, seated on the leaf-carpeted ground flecked with the sunlight that sifted through the trees, the food was simply ambrosial. With the potatoes they dispatched the rest of the food they had brought along. Then, with a feeling of absolute content, they stretched out luxuriously on the ground and munched the roasted chestnuts in beatific indolence. For an hour or two they rested there, and then Bob rose and stretched himself and called his reluctant friends to action. "It would be a sin and a shame to go out of these woods without having our bags crammed to bursting," he said. "Let's get a hustle on, and just for variety let's try another part of the woods." "All right," assented Joe, while Herb and Jimmy, though more slowly, roused themselves. They picked up their bags and moved from place to place, choosing those sections where the trees grew thickest and the outlook for nuts was most promising. "Better be a little careful," warned Joe, after they had gone a considerable distance. "Part of this wood belongs to Buck Looker's father, and perhaps he'd have some objection to our nutting here." "I don't think any one would kick," responded Bob. "Everybody around here regards the woods as common property, as far as nutting is concerned. Besides, there's no way of telling, as far as I know, what section belongs to him and what to other people." "There's something that will give us the tip," remarked Herb, pointing through the trees to a clearing in which they saw a two-story cottage. "That house belongs to Mr. Looker, though nobody has lived in it for a long while and I guess he's just letting it go to rack and ruin." The house did indeed look shaky and dilapidated. Some of the railing and boards of the low veranda had been broken in or rotted away, and the whole place bore the look of decay that comes to houses that for a long time have been destitute of occupants. "Looks as if it would fall to pieces if you breathed on it," said Herb. "Old enough to have false teeth," commented Jimmy. "I suppose Mr. Looker lets it stand simply because it's cheaper than pulling it down." The boys gathered nuts for perhaps two hours longer, and then they had to stop because their bags would not hold any more. Jimmy was already groaning in anticipation of having to carry his home. "That'll weigh a ton by the time we get to Clintonia," he grumbled, as he eyed it with considerable apprehension. "Hard to please some people," commented Herb. "You'd be kicking like a steer if you didn't have any to carry, and now you're sore because you've got enough to last all winter." "Might as well leave enough for other people," said Jimmy, with a spasm of generosity. "There are more nuts here than will ever be picked," replied Herb. "For that matter, some other people are getting them now. I've heard them thrashing about in the brush for the last few minutes only a little way from here." "Funny we don't hear voices then," said Joe. "Perhaps they're deaf mutes," suggested Jimmy, and adroitly ducked the pass that Joe made at him. The noise persisted and seemed to be coming nearer and nearer. There was a crashing of bushes, as though some heavy body were being pushed through them. "Seem to be making heavy weather of it," commented Herb. "Don't see why any one should make extra work for himself when there are plenty of paths through the woods. Now if--Look!" His voice rose in a shout that startled his comrades. They turned and looked in the direction of his pointing finger. And what they saw froze the blood in their veins. A great shaggy bear had emerged from the brush into a path not more than a hundred feet away and was lumbering rapidly toward them! CHAPTER II AN EXCITING CHASE For a single instant the boys stood motionless and silent, stupefied by the sudden apparition. Then, as though shocked by a galvanic battery, they woke to life. "Quick!" shouted Bob. "To the bungalow! It's our only chance!" Like a flash he was off, followed by his comrades. Even Jimmy's feet seemed winged, and they reached the porch in record time. Frantically Bob grasped the knob of the front door. The door was locked. He threw himself against it, but his weight was not sufficient, and although the door groaned it refused to yield. He glanced at his comrades, surrounding him in a panting group, and then at the bear. The latter was still coming, and seemed to have increased his speed. The roof of the veranda was supported by half a dozen wooden pillars. "Shin up these!" shouted Bob, throwing his arms and legs about one and setting the example. In a trice they were all climbing desperately. Fortunately they had not far to go, for the roof of the veranda was not high. But they felt as though they were in a nightmare, and although they were really making surprisingly good time, it seemed as though they would never get to the top. Bob reached there first and swung himself over the roof. Not waiting a moment to rest, he rushed over to the post that Jimmy had chosen, reached over his hand and caught one of Jimmy's wrists. There was a mad scramble and then Jimmy lay on the roof, gasping. Joe and Herb needed no help, as they had reached the roof only a second later than Bob. For the moment at least they were safe, and they sat panting and trying to get their breath. And while with fast-beating hearts they are wondering how they are to escape from the monster below them, it may be well, for the benefit of those who have not read the preceding volumes of this series, to tell who the radio boys were and what had been their adventures up to the time this story opens. Bob Layton was the son of a prosperous chemist who was a leading citizen of the town of Clintonia, a wideawake, thriving, little city with a population of about ten thousand. The town was located on the banks of the Shagary River, and was about seventy-five miles from New York. Bob, at the time these incidents occurred, was in his sixteenth year. He was tall and well built, of rather dark complexion and frank, merry eyes that always looked straight at one. He was good in his studies and a leader in athletic sports among boys of his own age. He had a firm, decided character, and was always at his best in an emergency that demanded cool thinking and quick action. His closest friend was Joe Atwood, whose father was a physician with a large practice. Joe was fair in complexion, while Bob was dark, and they differed in more than mere physical qualities. Joe had a fiery temper and was apt to speak or act first and think afterward, and Bob many times served as a brake on the impulsive temperament of his friend. Herb Fennington was a year younger than Bob and Joe, and of a more indolent, easy-going disposition. He was full of fun and jokes and nobody could long have the blues when Herb was about. A fourth member of the group was Jimmy Plummer, whose father was a carpenter and contractor and a highly respected citizen of the town. Jimmy was fat, red-faced and good-natured, with a special partiality for the good things of life. He had gained the nickname of "Doughnuts," because of his fondness for that famous product of the kitchen, and did his best to deserve the name. Besides the liking that drew the boys together, there was an added link in their interest in radio, which by its wonders had taken a firm hold on their youthful imaginations. In delving into the mysteries of this new and fascinating science, they had been greatly assisted by the kindly help afforded them by the Reverend Doctor Dale, the pastor of the Old First Church of Clintonia. His suggestions had been of immense value in helping them to master the elements of the science, and whenever they got into a quandary they had no hesitation in appealing to him for help that was never refused. What gave the boys an added stimulus was the offer by the member of Congress for the district in which Clintonia was situated of prizes for the best radio sets made by the boys themselves. The contest was open to all the boys residing in the Congressional district, and Bob, Joe, and Jimmy entered into it with enthusiasm. Herb, with his natural indolence, did not go into the competition and was sorry afterward that he had not. The first prize was a hundred dollars, and the second, fifty. To the boys this seemed a whole lot of money and well worth the winning. It was hard work though, and made the harder by the obstacles put in their way by Buck Looker, the bully of the town, assisted by Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney, two of his cronies almost as worthless as himself. Buck tried to wreck Bob's aerial and got a richly deserved thrashing in consequence. Later on the trio tried to steal Jimmy's set, but the radio boys got it back in a way that brought a good deal of discomfiture to the Looker crowd. While the radio sets were in the making, an exciting incident occurred in town that drew the boys into a series of adventures. An automobile running wild and dashing through the windows of a paint and hardware store in the town gave Bob and Joe an opportunity to rescue the occupant, a Miss Nellie Berwick, and to learn her story of having been swindled out of some property by a rascal. How by the means of radio they got on the track of the scoundrel and forced him to make restitution, how they overcame all the machinations of their enemies and came out ahead in the competition, is told in the first volume of this series, entitled: "The Radio Boys' First Wireless; Or, Winning the Ferberton Prize." Shortly after Bob had won the first prize and Joe the second, the radio boys went down to Ocean Point on the seacoast to spend the summer. A colony had been established there by several of the Clintonia families, including those of the radio boys, and they had great fun on the beach and in the surf. Here too they made marked advances in their knowledge of radio, in which they were greatly helped by Brandon Harvey, the wireless operator at the Ocean Point sending station. How they repaid this by pursuing and capturing the man who had assaulted him and looted the safe at the station, what exciting adventures they met with in the pursuit and capture, how their knowledge of radio enabled them to send help to a ship in peril on which their own families were voyaging, are told in the second volume of this series, entitled: "The Radio Boys At Ocean Point; Or, The Message that Saved the Ship." Their summer at Ocean Point was further marked by a gallant rescue of two young vaudeville performers who had been run down by reckless thieves in a stolen motor boat. How they finally brought these men to justice, how they managed to bring congenial employment to a crippled friend, and how in doing this they found scope for their own talents in the fascinating work of radio broadcasting, are told in the third volume of this series entitled: "The Radio Boys At the Sending Station; Or, Making Good in the Wireless Room." And now to return to the boys, who found themselves in the woods on the roof of the porch of the cottage where they had taken refuge from the pursuit of the bear. That refuge promised to be only a temporary one and exceedingly precarious. The roof was none too strongly built in the first place, and had fallen into decay from stress of weather and lack of repairs. Already there was an ominous creaking as it sagged crazily under the weight of the four boys. Beneath them was the bear, who looked up at them, his jaws slavering and his little red eyes flaming. He was an enormous beast, capable of tearing any one of them in pieces if he once got them within his clutches. "If we only had a gun!" groaned Bob, as a terrifying rumbling came from the throat of the bear. "I'd rather have a stick of dynamite to throw at his feet and blow him into kingdom come," muttered Joe, as he gingerly shifted his position to find a more solid support than the part of the roof that was sagging under him. "'If wishes were horses, beggars might ride,'" remarked Herb. "The question is what are we going to do?" "Seems to me the question is what is the bear going to do?" put in Jimmy. "What he'll do is plenty," said Joe. "He's got us trapped good and proper, and the next move is up to him." The bear himself seemed to be in something of a quandary as to what that next move was to be. He paced clumsily up and down before the veranda while he was making up his mind. But to the boys' dismay there was no sign that he was inclined to relinquish the prey that was so nearly within his reach. Finally he seemed to come to a decision. He moved from one to the other of the pillars supporting the veranda roof, sniffing at each as if calculating which was the strongest. Then to the horror of the boys he threw his paws about one of the pillars and commenced to climb. "He's coming up!" cried Bob, and even as he spoke they could see the shaggy hair of the beast's head come in sight on a level with the porch roof. "Up on the other roof, fellows! Maybe he can't follow us there." The roof of the house proper extended over the side and front of the second story and there were several protruding points that offered support to the feet and hands. In addition there were shutters to the windows, the tops of which reached nearly to the roof. There was a wild scramble for whatever support came nearest to hand. How the boys did it they could not for the life of them remember afterwards, but somehow, with the spur given to them by the knowledge that the bear was close behind, they got up on the roof of the house, their clothes torn and their fingers bruised and bleeding. "Let's go along the roof toward the back of the house," panted Joe. "There may be an extension kitchen there on which we can drop and then from there to the ground. It may not be so easy for the bear to get down after us as it has been to get up." They followed this suggestion at once and made their way as rapidly as possible across the shaky roof. It would have been more prudent of them to have left some interval between them, but they were so excited that they did not think of that and crowded close on one another's heels. Suddenly a shout rose from Bob. "Back, fellows!" he cried. "The roof's caving in!" But the warning came too late. There was an ominous cracking and splintering, and then with a roar a section of the roof collapsed, carrying the boys down with it. CHAPTER III AN AMAZING DISCOVERY There was a chorus of shouts as the boys felt themselves falling, followed by a heavy thud as they brought up on the floor of the attic in a blinding cloud of dust and plaster. They had been so close together that they all came down in a heap, in a waving confusion of arms and legs. Fortunately the distance had been only a few feet, but it was enough to knock the breath out of them, especially out of Jimmy, who had the misfortune of finding himself at the bottom of the heap. For a minute or two they were too dazed by the suddenness of the fall to speak coherently, or in fact to speak at all. Then gradually they disentangled themselves and got to their feet. Their first sensation had been that of alarm and the second of shock. But after they had in some measure recovered from these, there came a third sensation of immense relief. For what had seemed at first a disaster revealed itself as a blessing in disguise when they realized that at least they had escaped from their pursuer. They were inside the house and had a number of ways of escape through the doors or windows available to them. The tables had been turned, and now it was the bear that was at a disadvantage. They rubbed their eyes to get the dust out of them, and had barely begun to see clearly when they heard a voice calling from outside the house. The accents were foreign and they could not catch clearly what was said, but the words, whatever they were, were promptly followed by a scratching and clawing that seemed to indicate that the bear was sliding down one of the pillars of the porch to the ground. "We must warn him!" cried Bob. "The bear will get him, sure!" They rushed down the stairs to the ground floor and looked through one of the front windows. At a few yards' distance stood a man, short and stocky and of a swarthy complexion. A bandana handkerchief was wound around his head and earrings dangled from his ears. As they looked, the great body of the bear dropped from the lower part of the pillar to the ground, and the beast turned and rushed toward the man. "He'll be killed!" yelled Joe, in great apprehension. "Killed right before our eyes! Why doesn't he run? Can it be that he is blind?" They all shouted in unison to warn the newcomer of his danger. Then an amazing thing happened. The man not only stood his ground, but advanced toward the bear. The huge brute reared on his hind legs and threw his great paws over the man's shoulders. But even while the boys shuddered at the nearness of the tragedy that seemed about to be enacted, the man laughed joyously and passed his hand caressingly over the shaggy head and playfully pulled one of the brute's ears. The boys looked at each other in amazement. The look gradually changed from one of wonderment to one of sheepishness. Then Bob turned the lock of the front door, threw it open and stepped out on the porch. "Hello there!" he called. The man turned around and looked at him in surprise. It was evident that he had not known until that moment that there was anybody in the house. "Hello, you'sel'!" he replied, with a smile that showed a row of gleaming white teeth. "Is that your bear?" inquired Bob, while his comrades, who had also come out on the porch, taking care, however, to leave the door open in case a quick retreat should seem desirable, clustered about him. "Sure data mya bear," was the response. "He verra gooda bear. He dance an' maka tricks while I sing and we maka lota da mon. Mya name Tony Moretto. I coma from da Italy two, nearly tree years ago. I spika da Inglis good," he continued, with evident pride in his accomplishments. "Doesn't he ever get cross and ugly?" asked Bob. "He looks as though he could eat you in two mouthfuls." "What dat?" asked Tony, in a tone of aggrieved surprise. "Bruno get ugly? Nevair! He verra tame." And to prove it, he thrust his hand into the bear's mouth and took hold of his tongue. Instead of this evoking any protest, Bruno took it as part of a game, and acted just as a big good-natured mastiff might while romping with his master. "You see," said Tony, with evident pride. "He lova me. I show you how he minda me." He gave a word or two of command and began a monotonous chant, to the notes of which the bear began to dance with an agility that was surprising in so clumsy an animal. Then he lay down and played dead, turned somersaults and went through his whole repertoire of tricks for the edification of the boys, who looked on with very different emotions from those they had felt only a little while before. "What I tella you?" said Tony complacently. "Bruno verra nice bear." "What made him chase us then?" asked Joe. "We thought he was going to eat us alive." "He chasa you?" said Tony, in surprise. "No, no. You mus' be mistake. He wan' to maka frens--to playa wi' you. Dat' ees it. He tink eet was a game." "I wish we'd known that half an hour ago," murmured Joe to his companions. "It would have saved us a whole lot of trouble." "How did he come to get away from you?" asked Herb. "I verra tired," answered Tony. "I go sleepa in de woods. When I waka up I no finda him. He hunt for grub in da woods. Den he seea you and try to maka frens wi' you." He took a chain from his pocket and fastened it to a collar on the bear's neck. "Coma, Bruno," he said. "We go now." "Wait," called Bob, and he and his companions emptied their pockets of what loose change they had and pressed it on the Italian, who at first shook his head. "No," he said. "Bruno maka you much trubbeel." "Never mind that," replied Bob. "You've given us a good show, and this will buy some grub for Bruno. He's a good old sport, and we don't bear him any malice, even if he did give us the scare of our lives." He was so insistent that Tony finally pocketed the money, and with a smile and another flash of his white teeth trudged off through the woods with Bruno lumbering along clumsily beside him. The boys watched the pair until they were out of sight and then turned and looked at each other. Then the comical aspect of the whole affair appealed to them and they burst into inextinguishable laughter. "Stung!" cried Bob, when at last he could get his breath. "Stung good and plenty." "Running away like all possessed when the bear was only lonely and wanted company," gasped Joe, wiping his eyes. "He lova us, he wanta maka frens with us," chuckled Herb, and again they went into convulsions of mirth. "Well, fellows," said Bob, when they had regained some degree of composure, "there's no doubt but that the joke is on us. But, after all, we've nothing to reproach ourselves for, because we're not mind readers and couldn't be supposed to know Bruno's intentions when he came galloping toward us. There isn't a man on earth who wouldn't have done just as we did under the circumstances." "We can't say we haven't had excitement enough for one day," remarked Jimmy. "Gee, I feel as though I'd been drawn through a knothole. When you fellows came down on me in the attic, I felt sure that you'd drive me through the floor." "We showed good judgment in letting you fall first," said Joe, with a grin. "It was as good as falling on a rubber cushion." "I guess I was born to be the goat," sighed Jimmy. "I'll bet I'm black and blue all over." "It's a safe bet that we're all pretty tired and sore," said Bob. "And that's too bad too, for we've got a lot of work to do before we leave this old shebang. And we won't have any more than time to do it, for it's getting on pretty late in the afternoon." "What do you mean?" asked Herb. "Seems to me we've worked hard enough for one day." "All the same we've got to fix up that roof before we go," explained Bob. "It wouldn't be fair to leave it open to the wind and rain after we smashed it in." "I tell you what!" exclaimed Herb, struck with a bright idea. "Jimmy's the one to do that to the queen's taste. He's had a lot of experience in his father's carpenter shop, and he could make a far better job of it than any of us could. It'll be a real treat to see him go at it." "Sure," said Jimmy sarcastically. "Just the thing. I told you that I was the goat. But all the same don't you try to hold your breath till you see me do it." "We'll all go at it," declared Bob. "And we'll get it done in jig time. Probably it won't be done like cabinet work, but we can make it reasonably tight and snug just the same. Come along now and let's get busy." They picked themselves up and made their way to the attic and set to work. They were hampered at first by lack of tools, but search of the house brought to light a couple of rusty hammers and saws, and they managed to make a fairly good job of it. At least they had made it secure against rain or snow, and that was all they could hope to do under the circumstances. The sun was getting low in the western sky as they were putting in the last nails. Suddenly Herb stopped and listened. "Who's that calling?" he asked. CHAPTER IV THE BULLY APPEARS Joe went to a window in the side of the attic and peered out. Then he gave a low whistle. "What's the game?" inquired Bob curiously. "It's Buck Looker and his gang," replied his chum. "How in the world did they happen to get here just at this minute? Five minutes more and we'd have been gone." "Now I suppose it will all come out about the bear," said Herb regretfully. "I was hoping we could keep that to ourselves." "Perhaps it's just as well," said Bob thoughtfully. "We'd have to explain anyhow how we came to fall through the roof, and of course we'd tell the truth about it. What we've done now is only a makeshift job, and we'll have to get some carpenter to make a perfect thing of it at our expense. That's the only fair thing to do." "Hello, up there!" came a voice from below, which they recognized as Buck Looker's. "Who's up there and what are you doing?" Bob, who had come up to Joe's side, thrust his head out of the window. "Some of my friends and myself are here," he answered. "We broke through the roof of the house and we've just been fixing it up." "Broke through the roof!" came in a gasp from below. "What business did you have on the roof of my house? You're going to get into trouble for this." "Oh, I don't know," replied Bob. "We're not worrying much about it." "Well, you'd better worry," growled Buck truculently. "You come right down and get out of my house as fast as your legs can carry you or I'll--I'll----" "Yes," said Bob quietly, "go right ahead with what you were going to say, Buck Looker. You'll do what?" Buck hesitated, for there was a note in Bob's voice that he did not like. "You'll see what I'll do," he blustered. "You get right out of my house." "Now listen, Buck Looker," replied Bob. "We're going to get out of this house for just two reasons. The first is that there's nothing especially attractive to keep us here, and the second is that we've finished our work and were just about to go anyway. But don't fool yourself into thinking that we're going because you tell us to. If your father told us to, we'd have to, because it's his property. But it isn't yours and what you say doesn't interest us a little bit. Get that?" There was a growling response, of which they did not catch the words, and Bob turned to his companions. "Come along, fellows," he said. "Let's go down and see what this terrible man-eater and his cronies are going to do to us." "I only wish they'd give us an excuse for pitching into them," said Joe. "I've been aching to give Buck Looker a licking ever since that time Mr. Preston came along and stopped us." "No chance," laughed Bob. "Buck is prudent enough when any one comes face to face with him. As a long distance fighter he's a wonder, but he wilts fast enough when a scrap seems coming." The radio boys brushed off their clothes, restored the tools to their places, and went downstairs and out on the front porch, where they found the bully and his friends in close conversation. "It's time you got out of here!" exclaimed Buck. "My father will have something to say about this, and maybe he'll have you all arrested for burglary." At this the boys could not help laughing, and Buck's face grew red with fury, while a venomous light glowed in his mean eyes. "You'll laugh out of the other side of your mouths when you find yourselves in jail," he shouted. "Now look here," burst out Joe, taking a step toward him, "you've gone quite far enough. You keep a civil tongue in your head, or I'll give you what I've owed you ever since Mr. Preston came between us. And there's no Mr. Preston here now." Bob put a restraining hand on his friend's arm. "Easy, Joe," he counseled. Then he turned to the bully. "We don't owe you any explanation, Buck Looker," he said, "but we do owe one to your father, and you can tell him what we say. We were chased by a bear who had wandered away from his master. We chose this house for safety because it was the only place at hand and we couldn't do anything else. First we got up on the roof of the porch, but the bear came after us there and we had to take to the roof of the house itself. While we were going across it, part of it caved in and let us down into the attic. Afterward we tried to repair the damage for the time, and you can tell your father that we will pay whatever is necessary to make the roof as good as it was before." "Chased by a bear!" repeated Buck, with a sneer. "That's a likely story. There hasn't been a bear around these parts for a hundred years. Tell that to the marines." "I suppose that means that I'm telling a falsehood," said Bob, his eyes taking on a steely glint. "I didn't say that," muttered Buck, as he stole a glance at Bob's clenched fist. "But you can tell that to my father and see if he believes it." "He can believe it or not as he sees fit," replied Bob. "Come along, fellows." "Just notice that we're going of our own accord," put in Joe, as he prepared to follow his friend down the steps. "Don't you want to throw us off the porch or any little thing like that?" he inquired politely, pausing a moment for an answer. But the only answer was a snarl, and the radio boys left the bully there and went on to the place a little way off where they had dropped their bags when the bear came upon them. Jimmy, who was in the van, suddenly gave a cry of dismay. "The bags are gone!" he exclaimed. "I dropped mine right here, and now there are no signs of it." "And mine was close by this tree," cried Herb. "That's gone too." They hunted about for a few minutes, but the search was fruitless. "Look here!" exclaimed Joe, at last. "Those bags didn't walk away of their own accord. Somebody's taken them." "And after working all day to fill them!" groaned Jimmy. "Say, fellows," said Bob. "The only ones that have been around here have probably been Buck Looker and his gang. There's the answer." "But they didn't have any bags with them," interposed Herb. "They could have hidden them, intending to come back after dark and get them," replied Bob. "I'm going to question them anyway. Buck Looker isn't going to put anything like that over on us." "They'll only lie out of it," prophesied Jimmy pessimistically. "We can see from the way they talk and act whether they are lying or not," returned Bob. "At any rate I'm going to take a chance." They all went back rapidly toward the house, and reached there just in time to see Buck and his cronies vanishing around the back. "They've seen us coming and tried to dodge," cried Joe. "That won't do them any good," replied Bob, quickening his speed. "We can beat them running any day." The truth of his words was quickly demonstrated when they drew up abreast of the three, who slowed to a walk when they saw it was no use trying to evade their pursuers. "What are you running away for?" queried Bob, as he stepped in front of Buck. "None of your business," answered Buck snapishly. "I might ask you what you are running for." "And if you did, I'd tell you mighty quick," answered Bob. "I was running after you to ask you what you did with the bags of nuts you found under the trees." Buck tried to put on a look of surprise, but the attempt was a failure. "I--I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered. Every tone and every look betrayed that he was not telling the truth, and Bob went straight to the point. "Yes, you do," he retorted. "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. You found those bags under the trees where we had dropped them when the bear chased us, and you've hidden them somewhere intending to come back for them later. We've got you dead to rights, and you'd better come across and come across quick." Buck hesitated a moment, but the look in Bob's eyes told him what was in store for him if he refused, and again he concluded that discretion was the better part of valor. "Oh, were those yours?" he said, with an affectation of surprise. "We did find a few nuts and laid them aside for the owners if they should come back for them. I had forgotten all about it." "It's too bad that your memory is so poor," remarked Bob grimly. "Suppose you come along and show us where you laid them aside so carefully for their owners." Again Buck hesitated and seemed inclined to refuse, but the menace in Bob's eyes had not lessened, and he reluctantly shuffled back to the woods in front of the house and pointed out a hollow tree. "There you'll find your old nuts," he snarled viciously. "That is, if they are yours. Ten to one they belong to somebody else." And with this Parthian shot, which the boys disregarded in their eagerness to regain their property, he slunk away, followed by Lutz and Mooney, the discomfited faces of the three of them as black as thunder clouds. CHAPTER V A STARTLING ACCUSATION Elated and triumphant, the radio boys shouldered their bags and set out for home. "This is the end of a perfect day," chanted Joe, as they trudged along, tired in body but light in heart. "For us perhaps, but not for Buck and his crowd," chuckled Herb. "And those sneak thieves were the fellows who were talking about burglars," laughed Jimmy. The sun had gone down before the radio boys left the woods, and it was full night by the time they reached their homes and disburdened themselves of their load of nuts. "I was going to ask you fellows to come around tonight and listen in on the broadcasting concert," said Bob, as they reached his gate; "but I guess our folks will be so much excited about the bear that they can't talk or think of anything else." "That's bearly possible," chuckled Herb, and grinned at the indignation of his companions at the pun. "But I think there'll be something doing at church tomorrow on the subject of radio," continued Bob. "You fellows must be sure to be there. I heard Doctor Dale talking about it to father." "I'll be there if I can wake up in time," said Jimmy. "But just now I feel as if I could sleep through the next twenty-four hours straight. I'll be like one of the seven sleepers of Pegasus." "Ephesus, I guess you mean," laughed Bob. "Pegasus was a horse." "Is that so?" replied Jimmy. "Well, that's a horse on me. Don't hit me," he begged, as Bob made a pass at him. "I'm stiff and sore all over, without having that big ham of yours land on me." Bob laughed and went up the steps, while the others made their ways to their respective homes not many doors away. As they had anticipated, the telling of the adventures that they had gone through that day was listened to with breathless interest by all the members of their families. At places in the story there was laughter, but more frequently there were exclamations of alarm mingled with great relief that they had come through safely. "I tell you," said Bob, as he finished telling of the matter to his parents. "I felt mighty cheap to think that I had run like mad from a bear that, as the Italian said, was simply trying to 'maka frens' with me." "It was rather amusing after it was all over," assented his father, with a smile. "But after all you were very wise to act as you did. It isn't by any means certain that the bear would have been as friendly with you as he was with his master, and resistance of any kind might have awakened all his savage instincts. I am very doubtful about the bear thinking it was only a game when he was climbing up after you. But even if he did, you had no reason to suppose it. For all you knew he might have escaped from a circus or menagerie and might have been ready to tear you in pieces." "That was my first thought; that is, as soon as I could think calmly about anything," answered Bob. "But, after all, a miss is as good as a mile, and he didn't get us. He came mighty near it though." "The most serious outcome of the whole thing will probably be the matter of the broken roof," said Mr. Layton meditatively. "It will probably cost considerable to put it in perfect shape again. But, after all, that doesn't count for anything as long as you boys weren't hurt. I'll see Looker about it on Monday and fix the matter up with him." "And of course the fathers of the other fellows will chip in on the expense," said Bob. "I'd like to hear what Buck is telling his father about it tonight," he continued, with a grin. "By the time he gets through, we'll have pulled the whole house down." The next morning all the boys were at church in time for the morning service, even Jimmy, who walked very stiffly and smelled strongly of arnica. "You fellows needn't sniff as though I had the plague," he protested, as his friends lifted their nostrils inquiringly. "I was the fellow who was underneath when you fell on me like a thousand of brick. You got off easy, while I had all the worst of it. But then I'm used to that," he concluded, sighing heavily. "Cheer up, old boy," said Joe, clapping him on the back, at which poor Jimmy winced. "The first hundred years is the worst. After that you won't mind it. But now we'd better get in if we want to sit together, for there's a bigger congregation here than usual." Doctor Dale, the friend and counselor of the boys in radio, as in many other things, was in the pulpit. He was a very eloquent preacher and was always sure of a good congregation. But as Joe had said, the church was even fuller than usual that morning, and there was a general stir of expectancy, as though something unusual was in prospect. The attention of the boys was attracted at once by a small disk-like contrivance right in front of the preacher's desk. It had never been there before. They recognized it at once as a microphone, but to the majority of the audience its purpose was a complete mystery, and many curious glances were fixed upon it. There were the customary preliminary services, and then Doctor Dale came forward to the desk. "Before beginning my sermon this morning," he said, "I want to explain what will seem to some an unusual departure from custom, but which I hope will justify itself to such an extent as to become a regular feature of our service. "There is no reason why the benefits of that service should be confined to the persons gathered within these four walls. There are thousands outside who by the means of radio, that most wonderful invention of the present century, can hear every word of this service just as readily as you who are seated in the pews. The prayers, the hymns, the organ music, the sermon, the benediction--they can hear it all. The only thing they will miss will be the privilege of putting their money in the collection plate." He paused for a moment, and a smile rippled over the congregation. "I have said," he resumed, "that they can hear it. And if they can hear it, they ought to hear it--that is if they want to. This is no new or untried idea. It is being carried out today in Pittsburgh, Washington, and other cities. The pulpit becomes a religious broadcasting station, from which the service is carried over an area of hundreds of miles. Everybody within that area who has a receiving set can hear it if they wish. In some cases it is estimated that more than two hundred thousand people are enjoying at the same moment the same religious service. You can see at once what that means in immeasurably extending the usefulness and influence of the church. "Now it has occurred to me that we might do here what is being done elsewhere on a larger scale. So, after a conference with the officials of the church, an adequate sending set has been installed in the loft of the building. What is said here is sent from this microphone to the loft, where it is flung out into the ether. Arrangements have been made with a number of churches in this county, too poor and small to have a regular pastor, by which they have installed loud speaker receiving sets in their buildings. At this moment there are a dozen scattered congregations where the people have gathered to worship, and where at this moment they are hearing everything that is said just as plainly as you do. "And in addition to that," he went on, "in hundreds, perhaps thousands of homes, people who cannot go to church because of illness or some other reason are listening to this service. The sick, the crippled, the blind--think of what it means to have the church brought to them when they cannot go to the church. You in the pews are the visible congregation. But outside these walls there is today an invisible congregation many times greater, to whom this service is bringing its message of help and healing." With this prelude, Doctor Dale announced his text and preached his sermon, which, if anything, was more eloquent than usual. It seemed as if he were inspired by preaching to the greatest audience that he had ever had in his whole career, and the audience in the pews also felt a thrill as they thought of the invisible listeners miles and miles away. It seemed as though the natural were being brought into close connection with the supernatural, and the impression produced was most powerful. If the doctor had had any misgivings as to the attitude of his people toward this new departure, these were quickly dissipated by the cordial congratulations and approval that were expressed after the service was over and he moved about among them. It was the universal opinion that a great advance had been made and that the innovation had come to stay. The radio boys had been intensely interested in this new application of their favorite study, and after the sermon they went up into the loft and examined the apparatus that had been used in sending. It was a vacuum tube set with two tubes and power enough to send messages out over the whole county. It had been set up by Dr. Dale himself, and that was proof enough for the boys that it had worked perfectly in sending out the morning service. "What will radio do next?" asked Bob, as the boys were walking homeward. "What won't it do next is the way you ought to put it," suggested Joe. "It seems as if there were no limit. There are no such things as space and distance any more. Radio has wiped them out completely." "That's true," chimed in Herb. "The earth used to be a monstrous big thing twenty-five thousand miles round. Now it's getting to be no bigger than an orange." "What a fuss they made when it was proved that one could travel around the world in eighty days," said Jimmy. "But radio can go round the earth more than seven times in a single second. Just about the time it takes to strike a match." "Gee, but I'm glad we weren't born a hundred years ago," remarked Bob. "What a lot of things we would have missed. Automobiles, locomotives, telegraph, telephone, phonograph, electric light----" "Yes," interrupted Joe, "and radio would have been the worst miss of all." "They're doing in the colleges now, too, something very like what the doctor did in the pulpit this morning," said Bob. "In Union College and Tufts and a lot of others the professors are giving their lectures by radio. Talk about University Extension courses! Radio will beat them all hollow. Think of a professor lecturing to an audience of fifty thousand, instead of the hundred or so that are gathered in his classroom. And think of the thousands of young fellows who are crazy to go to college and haven't the money to do it with. They can keep on working and get their college education at home. I tell you what, fellows, Mr. Brandon was right the other day when he said that the surface of radio had only been scratched so far." The next day at school the boys found that the story of their experience with the bear had had wide circulation, chiefly through the activity of Buck Looker, who took care at the same time, however, to express his belief that nothing of the kind had happened. There was a good deal of good-natured joking, and the boys in self-defense had to explain the whole thing in all its details. At recess their story received unexpected confirmation, for there, just outside the school yard, was Tony putting Bruno, the bear, through his tricks while a breathlessly interested crowd gathered about the pair. Tony grinned at the boys when he saw them and Jimmy asserted that Bruno grinned too, but the rest of the radio boys thought that that was due to Jimmy's excess of imagination. A noticeable feature of the school work that day was the scarcity of pupils. All the classes were more or less sparsely attended, and the teachers were called to a conference with Mr. Preston, the principal. "What do you suppose the powwow of the teachers was all about?" asked Bob, as the boys were going home after the session of the school was ended. "About so many fellows being away," replied Joe, who, as his father was the leading physician of the town, was better informed than were his friends as to the situation. "Dad says there's an awful lot of sickness in the town. He's kept busy day and night, and scarcely has time to breathe." "I wonder what the reason is," remarked Herb. "Dad thinks the water supply may have something to do with it," answered Joe. "He says there's a regular epidemic of typhoid fever, and that usually comes from impure water. He's called the attention of the town council and the engineers of the reservoir to the matter, and they're going to have an investigation. Dad says it may even be necessary to close the schools for a time." "What's that?" exclaimed Jimmy, with sudden animation. "Don't tell Jimmy anything like that," mocked Herb. "It would simply break his heart. If there's anything he's stuck on it's school." "You fellows wouldn't be tickled to death either if you thought you were going to get a vacation, would you?" retorted Jimmy. "I know you birds." "Say, wouldn't it give us lots of time for radio!" said Bob enthusiastically. "I want to get all the new wrinkles in that latest set of ours, and we don't have time to do it in the few evenings we can spare from our home work." "You bet," agreed Herb. "I don't want there to be any more sickness, but I sure do hope they find it necessary to close the schools. That would be just what the doctor ordered--in more senses than one." "I wouldn't shed any bitter tears myself," admitted Joe. "There's going to be a meeting of the Board of Health to consider the subject soon, and I'll give you fellows the tip the minute I hear anything definite about what they decide to do." "In the meantime, suppose you fellows drop around this evening for a little while," suggested Bob. "I want to try out some long distance receiving and listen in on Chicago." All agreed to be there at about eight o'clock. The Laytons had barely finished dinner that night when the door bell rang. Bob answered the bell. He was surprised to find that the callers were Mr. Looker and his son Buck. Both had dark and angry looks on their faces. "I want to know," said Mr. Looker abruptly, "what you and your companions mean by burning down my cottage!" CHAPTER VI THE BURNED COTTAGE "Nonsense!" exclaimed Bob. "What makes you think we'd do a trick like that?" "Never mind about that!" exclaimed the elder Looker, furiously. "I supposed you'd deny it. I want to see your father, young man." "Here he is," and Mr. Layton, who had been attracted to the door by Mr. Looker's loud and angry tones, emerged on to the porch. "What can I do for you, Mr. Looker?" "You can pay me for my house that your boy and his companions burnt down," said Mr. Looker in angry tones. "I rather think you must be mistaken," said Mr. Layton. "What grounds have you for making such a serious accusation?" "My boy caught them red-handed after they'd broken into the house, and made them get off my property. It wasn't six hours later that the place was burned, and there's no doubt in my mind that your boy and his friends set it on fire just to get even. They've always had a grudge against Buckley, anyway, and are always doing all they can to make life miserable for the poor fellow." "You know that isn't true, Dad," protested Bob, hotly, "neither about the fire, nor about Buck. He's always the one that starts trouble." "You've got plenty of nerve, Looker, to come here and make an accusation like this to me," remarked Mr. Layton, his usually kindly face stern and set. "There are many ways that fire could have occurred besides being deliberately set, and you know it. Likely enough some tramps had decided to spend the night there, and set it on fire by accident. You had better get off my property before I am tempted to throw you off." "It might not be so easy as you think," sneered the elder Looker, but nevertheless he began edging toward the sidewalk. "If you don't pay, I'll see my lawyer and have him bring action in court. See if I don't." "Suit yourself," answered Mr. Layton, shrugging his shoulders. "Your lawyer will tell you, though, that you haven't the shadow of a case. As for your boy, he looks big enough to take care of himself, and if he can't, I don't see what business that is of mine." "I'll show you," threatened Mr. Looker, as he turned down the walk. "Don't worry about that. Maybe somebody will be arrested." "As you please," said Mr. Layton, with a grim smile. Mr. Looker and his promising son reached the sidewalk in sullen silence, while Bob and his father watched them until they turned the corner of the street. "Young Looker is a young bully, just as you say, and his father would like to be," said Mr. Layton, seating himself in a rocking chair. "I suppose you and Joe and the others are sure you didn't light a match for any purpose while you were there?" "Absolutely not, Dad," asserted Bob. "We weren't inside that shack more than five minutes the first time, and, with that bear outside, lighting matches was the last thing we'd have thought of. As soon as the bear's owner captured him, we went outside. We worked on the roof both from outside and inside, and tried to patch the thing up. We struck no matches. We were doing the last few things inside when Buck came along." "Tell me just what happened then," directed Mr. Layton. "Why, then there was a bit of an argument with Buck," grinned Bob. "We knew that the place belonged to his father, and that there was nothing for us to do but clear out. We came right home from there, though, and you know that we were all here listening to radio that entire evening." "Yes, I remember that," nodded his father. "And I guess that would be a pretty convincing alibi if Looker really should carry the case to court. My opinion is, though, that he's just bluffing, and we'll never hear any more of it." "I wish I did know who _was_ responsible," speculated Bob. "Do you really think tramps were responsible, Dad?" "Very likely. Several barns have been burned in this neighborhood from the same cause, you know. I'm rather sorry that you and your friends were around there the same day it happened, because unless the real cause is discovered the Lookers will never stop talking about it. However, it's a small matter and we'll not think any more about it. From what you tell me, the place must have been falling apart, anyway." "I should say so," laughed Bob. "We were a surprised bunch when that roof caved in with us. The place was so rickety it's a wonder it didn't all come down then." "I'll bet you were a scared bunch," bantered his father, a twinkle in his eyes. "I'll say we were," admitted Bob, honestly. "If we'd had a gun with us, it would have been a different story, though. Tony would have been out one large, brown bear." "It's just as well you didn't," said Mr. Layton, dryly. "We'd have had Tony threatening a lawsuit, too, if you had killed his pet bear." "It would have been a shame to do it," admitted Bob. For a few minutes they both sat silent, each busy with his own thoughts. "I expect I'll have to be away from home most of next week, Bob," said Mr. Layton, at length. Bob looked at him expectantly, and he continued. "There is a store at Mountain Pass being offered at a bargain, and I'm strongly tempted to buy it and operate it as a branch. I'm going to look the ground over, anyway, and if it looks as good then as it does now, I think I'll buy." "That will be fine!" exclaimed Bob. "I've heard a good deal about that place lately, and it seems to be getting more popular all the time. If you go will you take mother with you?" Mr. Layton nodded, and waited expectantly for the question that he knew was coming. Nor was he wrong. "How about taking me along, Dad?" said Bob, eagerly. "It will be a peach of a trip. They say the scenery through Mountain Pass is the best ever." "Well, I've thought of that, too, because I was pretty sure you'd want to come. But I'm afraid they'll have you too busy in the high school this term for us to manage it. I may have to be gone two or three weeks, and that would be a serious break in your studies." Bob urged and pleaded, but his father was adamant, and at last Bob was forced reluctantly to give up the idea of going. When he told the other radio boys about the visit of the Lookers, they were as indignant as he. "'Like father, like son,'" quoted Joe. "They're two of a kind, that pair. But I guess they didn't get much satisfaction out of your father, Bob." "I should say not!" laughed Bob. "If they had said much more, I think we'd have treated ourselves to the pleasure of throwing them into the street." Bob then told them about his father's projected trip to Mountain Pass, and his disappointment at not being allowed to accompany his parents. "That's pretty tough," said Jimmy, sympathetically. "I know how you must feel. It would be a swell trip, and they say the meals at the Mountain Rest Hotel up at Mountain Pass are about the best ever." "There you go!" exclaimed Bob, laughing. "It's a lucky thing for the hotel that you're not going. They'd lose money on you, sure as shooting." "Well, I'd try to get my money's worth," said Jimmy, complacently. "You'd get it, too, no fear of that," said Joe, confidently. When this conversation took place, the boys never dreamed that they might all be going to Mountain Pass together in the near future. But as events shaped themselves in the next few days, this began to assume an aspect of probability. The epidemic of typhoid increased, and there was something nearly approaching a panic in Clintonia. Families began leaving the town every day, and Dr. Atwood, as head of the town Board of Health, finally issued orders that the schools must close until the epidemic had been gotten under control. When Bob heard this news, he could not, in spite of the seriousness of the situation, suppress a feeling of exultation. With school closed, the main objection to his accompanying his parents to Mountain Pass was removed, and he had little doubt now that he could persuade them to take him. The task was even easier than he had anticipated, for the Laytons, like all the other towns-people, were greatly alarmed over the rapid spread of the sickness, and when Bob broached the subject to them they readily consented to having him go with them. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good," thought Bob, and hurried away to seek his friends and tell them the good news. He found all three of them in a state of excitement equal to his own. "Dad wants us all to leave town, too," declared Joe. "He says there must be something wrong with the water supply, and he wants us all away until the trouble has been located and remedied." "My father says the same thing," said Herb. "The trouble is, that we'll have to go to different places, and that breaks up our combination for goodness knows how long." "Maybe we could get our folks to let us all stick together and go to Mountain Pass with Bob," ventured Jimmy. "It seems too good to be true, though." "It's an idea, anyway," declared Joe. "You certainly come out strong once in a while, Doughnuts. It won't do any harm to try, at any rate." The others agreed with this, and that night besieged their parents to let them go to the mountain resort. They succeeded more easily than they had hoped, as the older people were too worried over the situation, and too busy packing up, to offer much resistance to the impetuous lads. Early the next morning first Joe, and then Herb and Jimmy, dropped into the Layton home, to report their success to Bob. "Well, that's great!" exclaimed the latter. "Jimmy, you win the celluloid frying pan for making that suggestion yesterday." "Huh! that's about as useful as anything I'll ever get from you Indians," snorted Jimmy. "I ought to make you pay in advance for my ideas, instead of giving them away so carelessly." "You'll never get rich that way," remarked Joe. "But let's cut out the comedy, fellows, and get down to business. When are your folks going to start for Mountain Pass, Bob?" "The day after tomorrow." "Whew!" whistled Herb. "That means that we'll have to flash a little speed, doesn't it?" "I sha'n't worry about that," grinned Bob. "I'm all ready to start this minute, so I'll sit back and watch you fellows hustle. It will be lots of fun." "You won't be able to see me, on account of the dust I'll raise," announced Jimmy. "You're going to stay at the Mountain Rest Hotel, aren't you, Bob?" asked Joe. "Sure! It's the best hotel up there. The only one, in fact; though I believe some of the natives take a few people into their homes." "By the way," said Herb. "Who's said anything to Mrs. or Mr. Layton about our joining their party? Seems incredible, but maybe they won't want us." "Gee!" gasped Joe. "I never thought of that. But maybe it's so." "There's mother now," announced Bob. "Let's put it up to her." This they did, and her son's three friends were assured by Mrs. Layton that if their parents were willing they should go she and Mr. Layton would be glad to have them in their party. "That's fixed then," announced Jimmy. "I'm off now, fellows. Next stop, Mountain Pass." CHAPTER VII RADIO WONDERS That day and the next were busy ones for the radio boys. The party was to go in two big automobiles that Mr. Layton had hired, and the boys had secured permission to take a small radio set with them. On the morning set for their departure they were ready to the last detail, and it was not long before they and their belongings were snugly packed into the two automobiles and they were all on their way to the mountain resort. Although it was still only mid-autumn, the air had a keen edge to it, the sky was gray and overcast, and there was the indefinable feel of snow in the air. The big cars rolled crisply through long drifts of dead leaves, going at a lively pace, as it was quite a journey to the resort, with many steep grades to be encountered on the way. The boys were warmly wrapped, and the keen air only gave zest and added to their high spirits. "These cars ought to be equipped with a radio set," remarked Bob, a short time after they had started. "I saw a picture the other day of a car that was rigged up that way, with an antenna from the radiator to a mast in the rear." "It's not a bad idea, at that," said Joe. "If a person were going on a long tour, he could keep in touch with the weather forecasts, and know just what to expect the next day." "Yes, and when he camped for lunch, he could have music while the coffee pot was boiling," said Herb. "Pretty soft, I'll say." "He'd be out of luck if the static were bad, though," observed Jimmy. "Oh, it won't be long before they'll get around that static nuisance," said Bob. "Have you heard of the latest method of overcoming it?" The others had not, and Bob proceeded to explain. "At Rocky Point, Long Island, they put up twelve radio towers, each four hundred and ten feet high, in a row three miles long. Then they hitched up a couple of two hundred kilowatt alternators so that they run in synchronism. That means four hundred kilowatts on the aerial, and I guess that can plough through the worst static that ever happened." "Four hundred kilowatts!" exclaimed Joe. "That's an awful lot of juice, Bob." "You bet it is," agreed Bob, nodding his head. "But it does the work. When they tested out this system signals were received in Nauen, Germany, of almost maximum strength, in spite of bad weather conditions. You know they have a numbered scale, running from nothing to ten, which is maximum. Well, the Rocky Point signals were classed as number nine, which means they were almost maximum strength." "It must have been a terrible job to synchronize those two alternators," commented Joe. "No doubt of it," agreed Bob. "This article stated that they had to experiment for months before they succeeded. Those machines turn over at somewhere around twenty-two thousand revolutions per minute, you know." "About three hundred and sixty-six times a second," said Joe, after a short mental calculation. "Nothing slow about that, is there?" "It's fast enough to do the trick, anyway," agreed Bob. "Wouldn't it be great to be in charge of a station like that?" The others agreed that it would, and for some time they discussed this latest marvel of radio. Then their minds were drawn away by the wonderful scenery through which they were passing. The leaves still left on the trees were tinted in rich reds and browns, and as the big cars climbed to higher levels the party had some wonderful views of high hills and spreading valleys. But the sky became continually more leaden and overcast, and the drivers put on more speed in an effort to reach their destination before the impending storm should start. But they had gone only a short distance further when a few white flakes came swirling silently down from the leaden sky. Scattered at first, they rapidly increased in numbers until the air was filled with swirling sheets of white. The snow packed over the windshields and powdered the occupants of the two cars, and the drivers were forced to stop and put up the side curtains. The snow hissed through the branches of the trees and whispered to the dead leaves, making the only sound in a world that was rapidly changing from autumn brown to winter white. With the side curtains adjusted as snugly as possible, the party resumed its journey. The fine, dry snow searched out every chink and opening between the curtains, penetrating in some mysterious manner where rain would have been kept out. In a surprisingly short time it had thrown a thick mantle over the road, and the cars began to feel the drag of ploughing through it. Another stop had to be made to put on tire chains, and by this time it was plainly to be seen that the drivers were becoming worried. They had still about a third of the distance to cover, which included some of the worst grades in that part of the country. The road had changed from smooth macadam to a rough trail that required careful driving even under the most favorable conditions, and now the snow, drifting into holes and depressions, hid them from sight, the first intimation of their presence being a jolt and slam as the wheels dropped into some pit that the driver could easily have avoided otherwise. The passengers were shaken about unmercifully, and had to hold fast to anything handy to keep from being thrown against the roof. "Good night!" exclaimed Herb, as one particularly heavy jolt threw him from the seat and left him floundering on the floor. "We won't have any springs left on the cars by the time we reach the hotel, provided we ever do. I know people who have driven over this road, and they never mentioned its being so bad." "So have I," said Bob, peering out through the side curtains. "My private opinion is, that we've gotten off the main road altogether. There was a fork a way back, and I thought then that the drivers turned in the wrong direction." "That hardly seems possible, Bob," said Mr. Layton. "They are both experienced drivers, and are supposed to know this road like a book." "Well, likely enough I'm wrong," said his son. "If they did take the wrong fork, though, I suppose they'll soon find it out and turn back." But Bob was gifted with a keen sense of direction, and it was not long before the little party found that he had been correct in his surmise. The leading car halted, the other followed suit, and the drivers, beating their numbed hands together, held a conference in the road. After a struggle with the fastenings of the side-curtain, Mr. Layton descended and joined them. The boys followed suit, leaving Mrs. Layton in sole possession of the two cars. "We don't rightly know how it happened, sir," said one of the drivers, addressing Mr. Layton; "but somehow we've got off the right road in this confounded snow, and I guess there's nothing for it but to turn and try to get back on it at the place where we branched off." "Well, let's do it then, as quickly as possible," said Mr. Layton, decisively. "The snow is getting deeper every minute, and we can't afford to lose any more time. I thought you men knew the road too well to make a mistake like that." One of the drivers muttered something about "snow" and "can't see nothin' ten feet ahead," and they climbed into their seats, while the others scattered to their places inside. The driver of the leading car stepped on the electric starter button, but instead of the engine starting there was a shock, a sharp snap of breaking steel, and the starter motor whirred idly around with no more effect on the engine than one of the thickly fallen snowflakes. The driver uttered a fierce exclamation. "There goes that starter spring again!" he exclaimed. "Now I'll have to crank the blamed engine every time I want to start for the rest of this trip." He fished around under the front seat, produced a starting crank, and tried to turn the engine over by hand. In his haste, however, he had forgotten to retard the spark, and as he lunged down on the crank with all his strength, the motor backfired, the crank spun around several times, and the driver staggered back, his right arm hanging limp and useless. CHAPTER VIII A CLOSE SHAVE Mrs. Layton uttered a scream, and the others looked at each other a second with blank faces. Then they jumped out and surrounded the unfortunate driver, who was gazing at his injured arm in a dazed fashion. Mr. Layton made a quick examination, and pronounced that the wrist was badly sprained. Fortunately, they had a complete medical outfit in one of the cars, including splints, and Mr. Layton contrived to bind up the injured wrist after a fashion, and then suspended the arm in a sling. "But who's going to drive the car?" asked the uninjured chauffeur, after this operation had been completed. "If none of you people knows how to drive, we're in a pretty bad fix." "I'll drive," volunteered Bob. "You lead the way, and I guess I'll manage to keep near you." "Are you sure you can do it, Bob?" questioned his father, anxiously. He had great faith in his son's ability, and liked to have the lad take a certain amount of responsibility. "Sure, Dad. Watch and see," was the quick answer. "I don't know about this," said the chauffeur, with the professional's distrust of the amateur. "We could all pack in one car in a pinch, you know, and leave the other here." "But that would so overload one car that we'd have very little chance of getting there without a breakdown," argued Bob. "Don't worry about my driving. I'll manage somehow." "I'll bet you will," said Joe. "You'll have to move lively to keep from being run over," he told the driver. "Quit your kiddin'," said the chauffeur, unbelievingly. "We'll have to hit the high spots from now on, and it ain't goin' to be an easy job holdin' those boilers on the road." Somewhat against his mother's will, Bob cranked the motor of the car he was to drive, but took care to see that the spark was fully retarded, in consequence of which he started the engine without any trouble. The injured driver occupied the other half of the driver's seat, so as to give Bob pointers in handling the car if they were needed. But he soon found that Bob required very little of his advice. It was some time since he had driven a car, and at first he was a little slow at gear shifting, but soon got the "feel" of that particular car and from then on shifted with the ease and deft certainty of an expert. As a matter of fact, Bob possessed the knack of handling machinery, without which no one can really claim to be a good driver. The injured driver was not long in recognizing this. Shortly after they had reached the main road and were once more headed for their destination, they encountered a steep grade, something over a mile in length. Both cars were going at a fair speed when they felt the first tug of gravity, but so sharp was the grade that they lost way rapidly, and it became necessary to shift into a lower speed. Bob did not wait until they had slowed down too much. With a quick shove he disengaged the clutch, shifted into neutral, and then dropped the clutch into the engagement, at the same time accelerating the engine momentarily. This causes the idle gears on the jack-shaft to revolve, after which it is comparatively easy to mesh the intermediate gear combination. Bob had no difficulty in doing this, and with his gears properly engaged, he let in the clutch again and stepped on the accelerator. The car surged forward, ploughing through the snow and skidding from side to side as it fought its way up the steep gradient. In a few moments they caught up with the leading car, which was in difficulties. Its driver had waited too long before attempting to shift, and the car had slowed down so much by the time he got into intermediate that it would not pick up even in that speed, and he was forced to shift into low. "I'll bet that young feller that's driving Jim's car is stalled somewhere at the bottom of this hill," he thought. "Hope I don't have to wait too long for him after I reach the top. This road is no place for an amateur to drive, anyway. I----" Honk! Honk! The raucous note of Bob's horn broke in upon his thoughts, and he glanced, startled, through the rear windows, to see the other car looming through the drifting storm. Too late he tried frantically to speed up and avoid the humiliation of being passed by one whom he condescendingly termed an amateur. Resistless as fate the pursuing car drew abreast, and then went on past in a cloud of fine snow kicked up by the spinning rear wheels. He muttered morosely to himself as he caught a glimpse of grinning faces through the dim windows of the storm curtains, but was conscious of a feeling of admiration, too, for the daring young driver. "Say, son, I've got to hand it to you!" exclaimed Jim, the injured chauffeur. "You know how to handle a car with the best of 'em." "Oh, I didn't care so much about passing him, but I didn't want to slow down," explained Bob, never for an instant taking his eyes from the road. "It's against my principles to put on brakes when I'm going up a hill." "I figure the same way myself," admitted the other. "Now that we're ahead, we might as well stay ahead. I'll tell you which way to turn, an' I guess between us we'll get through all right." But many miles still lay between them and their destination, and the storm showed no sign of abating. Softly, silently, but implacably the white flakes continued to pile up that clinging carpet over the road until driving became more a matter of guesswork and instinct than anything else. For a time the injured chauffeur gave Bob directions and advice, but at length he came to the conclusion that this boy behind the wheel was very capable of doing the right thing in the right place, and he sat silent, gripping the seat and pressing on imaginary pedals when they got in tight places. They were making good progress, considering the adverse conditions, and were within perhaps ten miles of their destination when suddenly, through the whirling snow, Bob glimpsed another car swinging into the main road not fifteen feet from him. Both cars were going at a fast speed, but the drivers caught sight of each other at almost the same instant, and both jammed on their brakes. The cars swayed and skidded, and the occupants of both started from their seats, believing a collision inevitable. Nothing could have averted this had not Bob, quick as lightning, wrenched his wheel around, bringing his car into a course almost parallel with the other. For a few brief seconds the outcome lay in the hand of fate. When the two cars finally came to a jarring halt, they were side by side, with not six inches between their running boards. The door of the other car, which was a sedan, burst open, and a small, red-faced and white-haired man leaped out and shook a belligerent fist at Bob. "What do you mean by driving that car at such a rate of speed?" he shrilled. "You were breaking every speed law there is, young man, and I'll make you sorry for it, or my name isn't Gilbert Salper." "But your car was going faster than ours, and there isn't any damage done, anyway," Bob pointed out, as he wriggled from behind the wheel and descended to the road. "No damage done?" echoed the other, waving his hands excitedly. "You almost scared my wife and daughters into fits, and yet you have the nerve to stand there and tell me there is no damage done. What do you mean by it?" Before Bob could make an indignant reply, a lady wrapped in costly furs stepped from the sedan and laid a soothing hand on the irate old gentleman's shoulder. "I'm sure it wasn't the young man's fault, Gilbert," she said, in a pleasant voice. "Indeed, I think it was his quick action that prevented a collision. Jules was at fault in coming on to the main road without slowing down or blowing his horn." "They were both going too fast, I say!" insisted her husband. "But I suppose we ought to be thankful that we are still alive, after undertaking such a fool trip. Next time we'll do what I want and stay at home." The gentleman fumed and fussed a little longer, but at length his wife and daughters succeeded in enticing him back into his car. The latter were both unusually pretty girls, and as they coaxed their father back into good humor, Joe, who was in the car driven by Bob, whispered that he hoped they were also bound for the Mountain Rest Hotel. Mr. Salper was a wealthy Wall Street broker, whose pocketbook was much longer than his temper. Although irascible and prone to "fly off the handle" at the slightest provocation, he was at bottom a kindly man, and one who would do anything for those he cared for. Like many others, his health had suffered in the process of money making, and his physician had ordered him to give up business for a month or two and rest. The broker owned a house not far from the big hotel at Mountain Pass, and the family frequently came to the place, both in the winter and the summer. They were well known at the hotel itself for they often ran over to take meals there and to visit with some of the patrons. By the time his daughters had succeeded in calming the broker's excitement, the second car of the Layton party came up, and it was decided that the three cars should keep close together for the rest of the journey, in order to render mutual aid if it should be needed. The snow had attained a depth of six or eight inches by this time, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that they even managed to start again. But finally they got straightened out and resumed their bucking of the hills and snow. CHAPTER IX BUCKING THE DRIFTS It was heartbreaking work, for from that point on the road ascended steadily toward the top of the mountain, with hardly a level spot on it. A mile ahead lay the Pass, a narrow gorge in which the snow had drifted so deep as to make it almost impassable. The car that Bob was driving was in the lead, and as they neared this dangerous place the disabled chauffeur gave him a word of advice. "Open 'er wide, son," he counseled. "We'll have to buck drifts maybe two feet deep or more, and if we once have to stop, it means we'll stay there until somebody comes and digs us out. Give 'er all she'll take, and hold her on the road if you can." Bob nodded, and opened the throttle little by little, while the chauffeur held his foot on the muffler cut-out pedal, in order to relieve the engine of all back pressure. Just before they reached the Pass, by some freak of the wind the road had been swept clear of snow for several hundred feet, and this gave the car an opportunity to gather speed. Faster and faster it flew, until the speedometer needle registered fifty miles an hour. Then through the driving snow the entrance to the Pass loomed ahead, and the chauffeur gave an exclamation. Before them was a snowdrift that looked almost as high as their car, stretching solidly across the road and leaving Bob not the shadow of a chance to dodge. He set his teeth, opened the throttle to the limit, and gripped the wheel with wrists braced strong as steel bars. The heavy car hurtled into the drift with the force of a projectile shot from a big gun, throwing clouds of snow in every direction as it bored resistlessly through. The car skidded and twisted in every direction, and it was a supreme test of Bob's strength and skill to keep the powerful machine on its course. Big rocks lined the road, and more than once they shaved past these with only inches to spare. Resistless with its initial momentum, the big car was nevertheless gradually losing speed as it penetrated further into the drift and the passive but deadly resistance of the snow began more and more to make itself felt. The engine began to labor, and Bob was on the point of shifting speeds, when suddenly the car broke through the farther side of the drift, seemed to shake the clinging flakes from it, and began to pick up speed again. Those composing the little party never forgot the gruelling battle against odds that followed. The blustering wind had piled the snow in great drifts in some places, and in others had swept the road so clean that the frozen brown earth was visible for some distance. On these stretches they would pick up speed, and then charge into the drifts and repeat the former battle. Over and over they did this, Bob driving like a master, with steely blue eyes fastened grimly on the road ahead, jaws set, and a face that looked ten years older than it really was. Those in the car spoke words of encouragement from time to time, but he was too busy and concentrated on his task to answer with anything other than a brief nod. For what seemed like an age they ploughed through one huge drift after another, with the high rocky walls of the Pass frowning down at them till at last the rugged hills fell back from the road, the air lightened, and they were through the Pass, with less than two miles between them and the warmth and shelter of the hotel. The road now ran along a high ridge, which the wind had swept clear of snow, and Bob stopped the car and relaxed with a great sigh. "Guess we'd better wait for the others to catch up," he said. "We broke a path for them, though, and it ought to be a lot easier for them than it was for us." "You must be all in, Bob," said Joe. "You handled this car like an old timer, but now it's about time you had a relief. Why not let me take a hack at it for the rest of the way?" But Bob laughed, and shook his head. "I wouldn't have missed that for a farm," he said. "It was hard work, but it was the best kind of sport, too. Besides, Jim here says that the road runs along this ridge almost to the doors of the hotel, and it will be easy sailing the rest of the way." "I wonder what has become of the other cars?" said Mr. Layton, in a worried tone. "I hope nothing has happened to them." He had hardly ceased speaking, when one of the automobiles appeared, so covered with snow that it was hard to believe that it was actually a car at all. Shortly afterward the Salper car appeared, came to a halt when its driver saw the other two at a standstill, and its French chauffeur descended and advanced stiffly to where Bob and the driver of the second Layton car were standing. "Pah!" he exclaimed. "In all France there is no road like that which I have just traverse. I am hire to drive ze petrol car, not ze snow plough. It eez ze so great mystery zat we have arrive so far." "Mystery is right," agreed Jim, the injured driver. "The only casualty up to date is my busted wing, which is a lot better than a busted neck. But you'd better get back in your glass house, Frenchy, because we're all frozen stiff, and the sooner we land at the hotel, the better. My arm feels as though it must be broken in twenty places." The Frenchman looked doubtfully at Jim when he spoke of an injured "wing," but evidently set it down as being one more incomprehensible vagary of the English language, for he only shrugged his shoulders and returned to his car without comment. The short day was drawing rapidly into night when the little party at last saw the cheerful lights of the hotel shining through the storm. Fifteen minutes later the lads were all seated in front of a roaring open fire in the big parlor and were telling their experiences to the amazed guests. Bob was the only uncomfortable one in the crowd, as he heard everybody speaking in praise of the way he had risen to the emergency and was thankful for more reasons than one when dinner was announced. "Dinner!" exclaimed Jimmy, rapturously. "Bob, I've got to hand it to you. Not only do you get us here through a howling blizzard, but you land us just in time for a turkey dinner. Oh my, oh my!" The Mountain Rest Hotel had a reputation for serving generous meals, and for this the boys were thankful that night. Through all the long, cold day they had eaten nothing but a few sandwiches, and now they strove to make up for lost time. Not in vain, either. Even Jimmy had to own up that he could not eat another mouthful, which was a statement he could seldom truthfully make. Owing to the sickness in Clintonia, there had been an unprecedented rush of visitors to the hotel, and the Layton party discovered that they would have to take one of the small cottages adjoining the hotel, although they would board in the main establishment. The cottage was snug and comfortable, however, and they were all delighted with it. Indeed, it was better for the radio boys than rooms in the hotel, because they could set up their receiving set more readily. Of course, it was out of the question to erect an outdoor aerial, but they were not bothered by this and decided to use a loop aerial instead. They had brought with them a knock-down frame on which to wind their antenna, and this frame could be moved around and set against the wall when not in use. The first night at Mountain Pass they had little thought, however, even for their beloved radio, and were content to tumble into bed shortly after dinner. But the next day they were up early, and after a hearty breakfast set to work to put up their set. CHAPTER X CONVINCING A SKEPTIC It was a simple matter for the boys to wind the loop aerial, for they had become expert in the manipulation of wire, tape, and the numerous other accessories that go with the art of wireless telephony. After the aerial was completed they unpacked their receiving set and quickly connected it up. They worked skillfully and efficiently, and before the lunch bell rang at noon they were ready to receive signals. But even their enthusiasm was not proof against the seductive summons of the genial looking old darky who rang the bell, and they washed hastily and started for the dining room at a pace that would have reflected credit on the hungriest boarder who ever lived. "Gang way, Bob!" panted Jimmy, as they clattered down the last flight of stairs and dashed for the entrance to the hotel. "I'm hungry, and, therefore, desperate. Get out of the way before I trip over you!" "Good night!" shouted Bob. "You're getting too fresh to live, Jimmy," and he picked up a handful of snow and dropped it carefully and with precision down Jimmy's fat neck. "Ugh!" exclaimed that corpulent youth, stopping short in his wild rush and digging snow from under his collar. "I'll get even with you for that, Bob, you old hobo. Just you wait!" "Can't wait a second," grinned Bob. "I don't want to be late and miss all the good things, even if you do." "Come on, Doughnuts, don't stand there all day picking snow off you," entreated Herb. "I can't see where there's any fun in that." Jimmy reached down, packed a handful of snow, and sent it flying after the others. They were close to the door, however, and ducked in unscathed, while the snowball spread out in a big patch against the door casing. Jimmy did not allow himself to be delayed very long at any time when there was food in prospect, however, and his friends had hardly seated themselves at the table when he came in, his collar badly dampened, but his appetite in prime condition. He shook his fist surreptitiously at the others, but he was incapable of staying angry long, and was soon his usual jolly and happy-go-lucky self. The snowstorm had stopped during the night, the weather had grown warmer, and a brilliant sun now shone down on a dazzlingly white world. The snow had come ahead of time, as all the "regulars" at the Mountain Rest Hotel united in asserting, and now it gave every indication of disappearing as fast as it had come. The boys wanted to get back to their radio set after dinner, but the snow looked so inviting that they could not resist the temptation to have a snow fight. Some of the men, seeing them hard at it, cast dignity to the winds and joined them, until quite a miniature battle was raging. Ammunition was plentiful, and there was a good deal of shouting and laughter before both sides became tired and agreed to call it a draw. The radio boys were pretty damp with snow water, and their hands were stiff with cold, but trifling discomforts such as these did not bother them much. They had had a good time, and they knew that there is seldom any fun that does not have its own drawbacks. They went to their rooms, changed the wettest of their clothing for dry articles, and were soon ready to test their set. They were just making a final inspection of their connections when Mr. Layton entered the room, accompanied by two other gentlemen. Mr. Layton introduced the two latter as the owners of the store he was thinking of purchasing. "Mr. Blackford and Mr. Robins are rather skeptical about radio," explained Mr. Layton, when the introductions had been duly accomplished. "I happened to mention it this morning, and as they both seemed to think I was exaggerating its possibilities, I asked them here to see and hear for themselves." "It's no trouble to show goods," said Bob, grinning. "We haven't tested for signals yet, but the set is all hooked up, and I guess all we'll have to do is tune up and get about anything you want." "You seem pretty confident," remarked one of the two strangers, Mr. Robins. "My opinion is, that this radio stuff is mostly bunk. A friend of mine bought a set just a little while ago, and he couldn't hear a thing with it. Paid fifteen dollars for it, too." "I shouldn't imagine he could," said Bob, drily. "Mountain Pass must be at least a hundred miles from the nearest broadcasting station, and that set you speak of could never be expected to catch anything more than twenty-five miles away, at the most." "Well, I'll bet dollars to doughnuts you can't hear anything with that outfit you've got there, either," broke in the other of the two strangers. "You'd lose your money, Blackford," said Bob's father. "Go ahead and convince these doubting Thomases, Bob." Bob adjusted a headset over his ears and switched on the current through the vacuum bulb filament. Then he manipulated the voltage of the "B," or high voltage, dry battery, and also varied the current flowing through the filament by means of a rheostat connected in series with it. Almost immediately he caught a far-away sound of music, and by manipulation of the variometer and condenser knobs gradually increased the strength of the sounds. Meantime Mr. Layton's two acquaintances had watched proceedings with open skepticism, and often glanced knowingly at each other. But suddenly, as Bob twisted the knob of the variable condenser, the music became so loud that all in the room could hear it, even though they had no receivers over their ears. "If either of you two gentlemen will put these receivers on, he'll be convinced that radio is no fake," said Bob quietly, at the same time removing his headset and holding it out. After a moment's hesitation Mr. Robins donned the receivers, and a startled look came over his face, replacing the incredulous expression it had worn heretofore. "Let's hook up another set of phones, Bob, and let Mr. Blackford listen at the same time," suggested Joe. This was done, and soon both skeptics were listening to their first radio concert. Mr. Layton regarded them with an amused smile. Mr. Robins extended his hand curiously toward the condenser knob, and immediately the music died away. He pulled his hand hastily away, and the sounds resumed their former volume. "Don't be frightened," laughed Mr. Layton. "It won't bite you." "But what made it fade away in that fashion?" asked Mr. Robins. "Don't ask me," said Bob's father. "I'm not up on radio the way the boys are. I enjoy it, without knowing much of the _modus operandi_." "That was caused by what is known as 'body capacity,'" explained Bob. "Every human being is more or less of a natural condenser, and when you get near the regular condenser in that set, it puts more capacity into the circuit, and interferes with its balance." The other nodded, although in reality he understood very little of even this simple explanation. He was too much absorbed in listening to what was going on in the phones. As he listened, he heard the latest stock market quotations given out, among them being the last minute prices of some shares he happened to be interested in. He slapped his knee enthusiastically, and when the last quotations had been given, he snatched off the headset and leaped to his feet. "I'm converted!" he fairly shouted. "I'll buy this outfit right as it stands for almost any price you fellows want to put on it. What will you sell it for?" The boys were taken aback by this unexpected offer, and all looked at Bob expectantly. "Why, we hadn't even thought of selling the set," he said slowly. "We wouldn't sell it right now, at any price, I think. But when we leave here to go back home, I suppose we might let you have it. How about it, fellows?" After some argument they agreed to this, but Mr. Robins was so determined to have the set that he would not be put off. "Now look here," he said. "I'm a business man, and I'll make you a business proposition. I'll buy that outfit right now, before I leave this room, at your own figure. But you fellows can keep it here and have the use of it just the same as you have now, only it will be understood that I'll have the privilege of coming over here once a day in time to hear those market reports. At the same time you can teach me something about operating the thing. How does that strike you?" and he threw himself back in his chair and waited for his answer. "We'll have to talk over that offer for a little while," said Bob. "Give us ten minutes or so, and we'll give you an answer." "That's all right," replied Mr. Robins. "While I'm waiting I'll just put on those ear pieces again and see what's doing." The radio boys left the room and held an excited conference downstairs. After some discussion they agreed to sell their set, as long as they could have the use of it during their stay at the resort, but the matter of price proved to be a knotty problem. Bob produced pencil and paper, and they figured the actual cost of the set to themselves, and then what the same set would have cost if bought ready made in a retail store. "The actual material in that set didn't cost us much over forty dollars, but we put a whole lot of time and experience into it," said Bob, "It would cost him close to a hundred to get as good a one in a store." "It's a mighty good set, too," said Joe, a note of regret in his voice. "We might make another as near like it as possible, and not get nearly as good results." "Oh, don't worry. We're some radio builders by this time," Herb reminded him. "Besides, that isn't the only set we've got." "Let's ask him eighty dollars," ventured Jimmy. "He'll be getting it cheaper then than he could buy it retail, and we'll be picking up a nice piece of change." "I think that ought to be about the right figure," agreed Bob. "Does that suit this board of directors? Eighty hard, round iron men?" The others grinned assent, and they returned to the room where the older men were still seated about the radio set. "Well, what's the verdict?" inquired Mr. Robins, glancing keenly from one to the other. "We've decided to sell," replied Bob. "The price will be eighty dollars." Without a word Mr. Robins produced a roll of greenbacks, and counted off the specified amount in crisp bills. "You'll want a receipt, won't you, Robins?" inquired Mr. Layton. "Not necessary," replied the other. "I've got a hunch that your son and his friends are on the level and won't try to cheat an old fellow like me. I'll have to be going now, but I'll be around about the same time tomorrow morning to get the stock quotations. Coming, Blackford?" CHAPTER XI A MOUNTAIN RADIO STATION Left to themselves, the boys looked at one another. "That's what I call quick work," remarked Joe. "I hate to let the old set go, but they say you should never mix sentiment with business." "Maybe this will lessen your grief," said Bob. "Eighty divided by four makes twenty, or at least that's what they always taught us in school. Take these four five-dollar bills, Joe, and dry your tears with them." "Oh, boy!" exclaimed Joe. "Money, how welcome you are!" ejaculated Herb, as he pocketed his share. "What I can't do with twenty dollars!" "That will buy exactly two thousand doughnuts," calculated Jimmy, a rapturous expression on his round countenance. "Hot doughnuts, crisp brown doughnuts, doughnuts with jelly in them, doughnuts----" A human avalanche precipitated itself on the corpulent youngster, and he found himself writhing on the floor with his three companions seated comfortably on different parts of his ample anatomy. "Hey! Quit, quit!" stuttered Jimmy. "Get off me, you hobos! You'll have me flattened out like a dog that's just been run over by a steam roller." "And serve you right, too," retorted Joe. "What do you mean by talking about doughnuts when it's almost dinner time, and we're starved to death, anyway. Besides, you know there isn't a place at Mountain Pass where we can buy them." "Yes, and if I'd known that before I started, I would probably have stayed at home," retorted Jimmy. "Get off me, will you, before I throw you off?" "We'll let you up, but I doubt if you should be trusted with all that money," returned Bob, grinning. "You'd better whack it up among us, Jimmy. You'll just buy a lot of junk with it and make yourself sick." "Well, I've got a right to get sick if I want to," said his rotund friend, struggling to his feet. "If you get that twenty away from me, it will have to be over my dead body." "It doesn't seem worth while to kill him for just twenty dollars," said Bob, pretending to consider. "That's just a little over six dollars apiece." "No good," said Joe, decisively. "It would cost more than that to bury him." "You're a cold-blooded set of bandits," complained Jimmy, in an aggrieved tone. "I'm glad I haven't got a hundred dollars with me. I'd be a mighty poor insurance risk then, I suppose." "I wouldn't give a lead nickel for your chances," said Bob. "But don't let that worry you, Jimmy. You'll probably never have that much money all at one time as long as you live." "I won't if I wait for you fellows to give it to me," admitted his friend. "But I'm going over to the hotel and see if dinner is served yet. I'm not going to be the last one in the dining room at _every_ meal." "When you get the hang of this place, you'll always be the first one," said Herb. "After a little while they'll make you up a bunk in a corner, and you can even sleep there." "Oh, go chase yourself!" exclaimed Jimmy. "You never learned how to eat, Herb, and that's why you're such a human bean pole," and with this parting shot he slammed the door behind him before Herb could think of a suitable reply. "He got you that time, Herb," said Bob, with a grin. "I guess we might as well all get ready for dinner. Dad says they hate to have people coming in late." Every day after that Mr. Robins dropped in in time to hear the market reports, sometimes alone, and at others accompanied by his partner, Mr. Blackford. The latter was not quite so enthusiastic as his colleague, but he was nevertheless greatly interested, and was always glad to don a head set and hear what was going on. True to their agreement, the boys instructed the new owner of the set how to adjust it and get the best results. He always paid the closest attention to what they told him, and in a few days could pick up signals and tune the set fairly well. "Not bad for an old fellow, eh?" he exclaimed delightedly one day, when he had accomplished the whole thing without any aid from the boys. "If Blackford and I sell out to your father, Bob, I'll have a little leisure time, and blame it all if I don't think I'll do some experimenting and possibly some building myself." "You're pretty badly bitten by the radio bug," observed his partner. "I won't try to deny it," said the other, emphatically. "The more I think about it, the more wonderful it seems. Besides, it's got a mighty practical side to it. I was holding on to some shares a few days ago until I learned by way of the radio that they were starting to fall. I sent a telegram to my brokers, they sold out for me just in the nick of time, and I made a profit on the deal instead of having to take a loss. The bottom dropped clean out of the market that same afternoon, and if I'd been holding on to those shares, I would have gotten bumped good and hard." The other nodded. "It's a good investment when you look at it that way," he admitted. "Good investment is right," declared his partner. "I saved a lot more in that deal than the whole radio outfit cost me, and I still own the set." "I wonder why the new government wireless station doesn't do something of the kind," remarked Mr. Blackford. "They might as well make themselves useful as well as ornamental." "Government station!" exclaimed Bob and Joe at once. "Is there a government station at Mountain Pass?" Mr. Blackford nodded. "I thought you fellows knew about it, or I'd have mentioned it before," he said. "It was just opened a few weeks ago, and I don't think they've got all their equipment in yet. There's been some delay in getting the stuff here, I understand." "What does the government want of a wireless station away up here?" asked Bob. "This is the highest point in all the surrounding country and makes an ideal lookout for forest fires," said his informant. "The station was supposed to be ready for use last summer, but, as I say, was delayed a good deal. But we expect it to be of great service in the future. There have been some disastrous forest fires around here in the last few years, as you probably know." "We ought, to know it," remarked Joe. "The smoke has been so thick as far away as Clintonia sometimes that you could cut it with a hatchet. It's about time something was done to stop it." Of course, once they heard about the government station, the boys could think of nothing else until they had visited it. Bob proposed that they go right after lunch, and this met with the enthusiastic approval of his friends. Poor Jimmy was so rushed by his eager friends that he was frustrated in his design of asking for a second helping of chocolate pudding, and was hurried away protesting vainly against such unseemly haste. "What do you Indians think you're doing?" he grumbled. "Do you all want to die of indigestion? Don't you know you're supposed to rest after a meal and give your stomach a chance?" "Oh, dry up," said Joe, heartlessly. "If you didn't eat so much you wouldn't want to lie around for two hours after every meal like a Brazilian anaconda. You know you didn't want another plate of that pudding, anyway." "Didn't I!" said Jimmy, disconsolately. "That was about the best pudding I ever tasted, bar none. You fellows are such radio bugs that you can't even pay proper attention to what you're eating." "You give enough attention to that to make up for the whole gang," said Bob. "Stop your growling and step along lively, old timer." Jimmy grumbled a little more in spite of this admonition, but regained his usual cheery mood when he saw the steel lattice-work towers with the familiar antenna sweeping in graceful spans between them, and forgot all about the missing plate of pudding. The station was situated some distance from the Mountain Rest Hotel in a clearing cut out of the dense pine woods, and the boys ceased to wonder why they had not discovered it on some of their rambles. As they drew near they could see that everything was solidly and substantially built, as is usually the case with government work. The station, besides the towers, comprised a large, comfortable building, which housed all the sending and receiving equipment, and a smaller building, in which the operators slept when off duty, and where spare equipment was stored. The radio boys knocked at the door of the larger building, and after a short wait it was opened by a tall, rather frail looking young fellow, who eyed them inquiringly. Bob explained that he and his friends were radio fans, and were anxious to look over the station, if it would not cause too much inconvenience. "Not a bit of it," said the young operator, heartily. "To tell you the truth, there is not much doing here at this time of year, and company is mighty welcome. Step in and I'll be glad to show you around the place." CHAPTER XII THE MARVELOUS SCIENCE Inside of half an hour the boys were on a friendly footing with the young operator and felt as though they had known him a long time. He was only a few years older than themselves, and had been a full-fledged operator for about six months. The Mountain Pass station was his first assignment, and he was inordinately proud of the complicated apparatus that went to compose it. "This is some little station that Uncle Sam has rigged up here, and while there are plenty of bigger ones, there are very few that are more complete and up to date. Look at this three unit generator set, for instance. Compact, neat, and efficient, as you can easily see. It doesn't take up much room, but it can do a whole lot." "It does look as though it were built for business," admitted Bob. "I suppose that unit in the center is the driving motor, isn't it?" "Right," said the other. "And the one nearest you is a two thousand volt generator for supplying the plate circuit. The one at the other end is a double current generator. That supplies direct current at one hundred and twenty-five volts and four amps for the exciter circuit, and alternating current at eighty-eight volts and ten amps for feeding that twelve volt filament heating transformer that you see over there in the corner." "Pretty neat, I'll say," remarked Joe. "I think so," said the other, and continued to point out the salient and interesting features of the equipment. "Over here, you see, is our main instrument panel. These dials over here control the variable condensers, and the other ones control the variometers. But there!" he exclaimed, catching himself up short. "I suppose none of you ever heard of such things before, did you?" The radio boys looked at each other, and could not help laughing. "We've got a faint idea what they are, anyway," chuckled Bob. "We've made enough of them to be on speaking terms, I should say." "Made them!" exclaimed the other, surprised in his turn. "Sure thing," grinned Bob. "We've made crystal detector sets and vacuum tube sets, and----" "And other sets that we never knew just how to describe," interrupted the irrepressible Herb, with a laugh. "Yes, that kind too," admitted Bob, with a grin. "But, anyway, we've made enough to know the difference between a variometer and a condenser." "Well, I didn't know I was talking to old hands at the game," said the operator. "I suppose I might have known that you wouldn't take that long walk out here through the snow unless you were pretty well interested in radio." "Yes, we're dyed-in-the-wool fans," admitted Bob, and told the operator something of their radio work. "I'm mighty glad to know that you fellows do understand the subject," said the operator, when Bob had finished. "I'm so enthusiastic about it myself, that it is a real pleasure to have somebody to talk to that knows what I'm talking about. So many of the people who come here seem to be natural born dumb-bells--at least, on the subject of radio." "Such as you took us for at first, eh?" asked Jimmy, with a grin. "I apologize for that," said the other, frankly. "Please don't hold it against me." "Personally, I don't blame you a bit," said Bob. "We can't expect you to be a mind reader." "Well, then, that's settled; so let's look at the rest of the station," said the operator, whose name was Bert Thompson. "This is our transmitter panel over here. It is very compact, as you can see for yourselves." He opened two doors at the front, one at the bottom, and raised the cover, thus exposing most of the interior mechanism to view. "Here are all the fuse blocks down at the bottom, you see," Thompson continued. "The various switches are conveniently arranged where you can easily get at them while you are sitting in front of the panel. Then up here are the microphones, with their coils and wiring where you can easily get at them for inspection or repairs. Rather a neat lay-out, don't you think?" "No doubt of it!" exclaimed Bob, admiringly. "We've never made a CW transmitting set yet, but we hope to some day. A set like this would cost a pile of money, even if you made it yourself." "Rather so," admitted the young operator. "It takes a rich old fellow like Uncle Sam to pony up for a set like that." "We're more interested in receiving sets just at present," said Joe. "Let's take a look at that end of the outfit." "Anything you like," said Thompson, readily. "That panel is located on this side of the room." "I suppose you use a regenerative circuit, don't you?" asked Bob. "Oh, yes," answered the other. "That helps out a lot in increasing the strength of the incoming sounds." "I suppose you use a tickler coil in the plate circuit, don't you?" ventured Joe. "No, in this set we use a variometer in the plate circuit instead," said Thompson. "Speaking of regenerative circuits, have you heard about Armstrong's new invention?" asked Bob. The operator shook his head. "Can't say that I have," he said. "It must be something very recent, isn't it?" "Yes, I believe it is," said Bob. "I read about it the other day in one of the latest radio magazines." "Do you remember how it worked?" asked Thompson, eagerly. "I wish you'd tell me about it, if you do." "I'll do my best," promised Bob. "The main idea seems to be to make one tube do as much as three tubes did before. Armstrong found that the limit of amplification had been reached when the negative charge in the tube approaches the positive charge. By experimenting he found that it was possible to increase the negative charge temporarily, for something like one twenty-thousandth of a second, I think it was. This is far above the positive for that tiny fraction of a second, and yet the average negative charge is lower. It is this increase that makes the enormous amplification possible, and lets the operator discard two vacuum tubes." "Sounds good," said Thompson. "Do you suppose you could draw me a rough sketch of the circuit?" "Let's have a pencil and some paper, and I'll make a try at it," said Bob. "I doped it out at the time, but likely I've forgotten it since then." Nevertheless, with the friendly aid of the eraser on the end of the pencil, he sketched a circuit that the experienced professional had no difficulty in understanding. "You see," explained Bob, "with this hook up you use the regular Armstrong regenerative circuit, with the second tube connected so that it acts as an automatic switch, cutting in or out a few turns of the secondary coil. The plate circuit of the second tube is connected to the plate of the detector tube through both capacity and inductance." "I get you," nodded the operator. "According to your sketch the plate and grid of the second tube are coupled inductively, causing variation in the positive resistance of the tuned circuit." "That's the idea exactly," agreed Bob. "You see, this is done by means of the oscillating tube, the grid circuit being connected through the tuned circuit of the amplifying tube." "Say, that looks pretty good to me!" exclaimed Thompson. "I wonder how Armstrong ever came to dope that out. I've been trying to get something of the kind for a long time, but I never seemed to get quite the right combination." "Well, better luck next time," said Bob, sympathetically. "There are a lot of people working at radio problems, and it seems to be a pretty close race between the inventors. Something new is being discovered almost every day." "If you fellows are building sets, you're just as likely to make some important discovery as anybody else," said Thompson. "That super-regenerative circuit is a corker, though. I'm going to keep that sketch you made, if you don't mind, and see if I can make a small set along those lines. I have lots of spare time just at present." "It will repay you for your trouble, all right," remarked Joe. "We're figuring on doing the same thing when we get back home." Jimmy had tried faithfully to follow the technicalities of the recent conversation, but his was an easy-going nature, disinclined to delve deeply into the intricate mysteries of science. Herbert was somewhat the same way, and they two wandered about the station, laughing and joking, while Bob and Joe and the young wireless man argued the merits of different equipments and hook-ups. "Say!" exclaimed Jimmy, at length, "I hate to break up the party, but don't you think it's about time that we thought of getting back to the hotel? Remember we've got a long way to go, and it's four-thirty already." "Gee!" said Bob, glancing in surprise at his watch. "I guess Jimmy is right for once in his life. We'll have to hustle along now, but we'll drop in here often while we are at Mountain Pass--unless you put up a 'no admittance' sign." "No danger of that," laughed the other. "The oftener you come, the better I'll like it. This is a lonely place, as you can see for yourselves." The radio boys shook hands with Bert Thompson, and after thanking him for the trouble he had taken to show them the station, they started back for the hotel at a brisk pace. The days were growing very short, and it was after dark when they reached the hotel. Very warm and comfortable it looked as they approached it, windows lighted and throwing cheerful beams over the white snow outside. A red glow filled the windows of the living room, and the boys knew that a big wood fire was roaring and crackling in the big fireplace. As they drew close, a tempting aroma of cookery reached them, and caused them to hasten their steps. They had barely time to get freshened up before the dinner bell rang, and in a short time they were making havoc with as fine a meal as any of them ever tasted. When they told about their visit to the radio station, Edna and Ruth Salper, the daughters of the Wall Street broker they had met in the snowstorm, were among the most interested of the listeners. "We find it so dull over at our house we are glad to come over here for meals and to visit," said Ruth Salper. "I suppose being in the woods in winter is rather dull," returned Joe, politely. "Did you boys really know enough about radio to talk all afternoon with the man in charge of the government station?" inquired Edna, curiously. "Why not?" asked Bob. "Don't you think radio is a broad enough subject to talk about for an entire afternoon?" "Oh, I suppose it is," she admitted. "But why don't you share some of your fun with us?" CHAPTER XIII PRESSED INTO SERVICE "Just what do you mean?" asked Bob. "Do you want to talk radio with us all tomorrow afternoon?" he went on, with an irritating grin. "No, of course I don't, stupid," she exclaimed. "But why can't you bring your old wireless things into the hotel parlor and let us all hear some music? We'd be ever so grateful if you would." The radio boys looked doubtfully at each other. "We'd do it, fast enough," said Bob. "But we didn't bring a loud speaker with us, and without that nobody could hear much unless he had a set of telephone receivers." "Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "I just knew you'd make some excuse or other." "A loud speaker is something that looks like an old-fashioned phonograph horn, isn't it?" asked Ruth, the younger sister, before any of the radio boys could refute the older girl's accusation. "Well, yes, it looks like that; but the details are different," replied Bob. "Yes, but if you had a phonograph horn, couldn't you fix it up so that the music would be loud enough for us all to hear it?" persisted Ruth. "Good for you, Ruth!" exclaimed her sister. "I know what you mean. You're thinking of that old phonograph they used to have in this hotel, before they got the big new cabinet machine." "If Edna and I get that horn for you, it will be easy for such experts as you boys are to make a--a what-you-may-call-it--loud speaker--out of it, won't it?" asked Ruth, demurely. "I think they're kidding us now, Bob," said Joe, grinning. "When a girl tells you you're an expert, you can bet she's figuring to wish something on you." "Yes, but it's so unusual that we ought to do something to encourage it," laughed Bob. "Let's call their bluff. Probably they'll never be able to find a horn, anyway." "Don't count too much on that," said Edna, with a dangerous smile. "We almost always get what we ask for." "Yes, and you are everlastingly asking for something, it seems to me," grumbled her father, who had joined the little group at that moment. "Now, Daddy, you know you love to give us things," chided Ruth. "If we suddenly had everything we wanted, you'd be dreadfully disappointed." "There's no danger of that happening," said her father, a smile softening his grim face. "But what is it you're after just at present?" "We want that big phonograph horn they used to have here in the hotel," said Edna, with a provoking side glance at the radio boys. "Will you ask the manager to hunt it up and lend it to us?" "I'll see what I can do about it," promised Mr. Salper. "I remember the horn you mean, but it was probably thrown away long ago." The radio boys rather wished that this might prove to be the case, but they were not destined to get off so easily. The first thing they saw when they entered the dining room the next morning was a large wooden horn, of a style in universal use in the early years of the phonograph, standing prominently near their table. "There, now!" exclaimed Jimmy, in a low voice. "You see what you've let us in for, Bob. Why didn't you tell them that we didn't have time to waste building a loud speaker, and settle the thing right then and there." "That's easier said than done," answered Bob. "Why don't you go over to the Salper's house and tell the girls that?" "Yes, go right over and be rough with them," advised Joe. "Tell them that you're not afraid of girls, and they can't put anything over on you." "Aw, I would have, last night; but it's too late now," said Jimmy, lamely. "Yes, you would!" jeered Herb. "After all, it won't be so much work. You're an expert carpenter, Jimmy, and can make a bang-up job of it." "That's always the way," complained Jimmy, heaving a dismal sigh. "You fellows think up a good, hard job, and then I do the work. I've never known it to fail yet." "Buck up, Doughnuts," said Bob. "Think of how the girls will thank you for it. You'll be the most popular fellow in the hotel." "Like fun I will!" returned the fat boy. "But I'm not going to let it interfere with my appetite. I can see where I've got a hard day ahead of me." It proved to be a busy morning for all the radio boys. Immediately after breakfast they fell to work on the horn, and after some three hours of steady labor they had constructed a passable loud-speaking horn, using one telephone receiver clamped securely at the narrow end. They mounted the whole thing on a solid wooden pedestal, leaving two substantial shelves at the back to hold their radio apparatus. It did not take them long to mount the receiving outfit in a neat manner, and when this was done they all drew a long breath and sat down to admire the result of their labors. While still engaged in this gratifying occupation, Edna and Ruth Salper entered. "Oh!" exclaimed the former, with a gesture of delight, "doesn't it look simply beautiful? I never thought you boys could make it so quickly." "You've got Jimmy to thank for that," said Bob. "I never saw him work so hard in his life before. It was easy to see that he was thinking of you and Ruth all the time, from the way he put his heart into it." "I didn't anything of the kind," said the embarrassed Jimmy. "I never thought of them once, even." "What a dreadful thing to say," laughed Ruth. "I didn't know you hated girls, Jimmy." "Who said I hated 'em?" demanded Jimmy, getting as red as a beet. "I--I----" "Love them," Joe finished for him. "Is that what you are trying to say, Jimmy?" "Say, who asked you to butt in?" inquired Jimmy, desperately. "Everybody is trying to tell me what I mean, until I don't know which is right myself." "Never mind," said Edna, coming to the rescue of the floundering youth. "We are grateful to you for working so hard for us, anyway." "Oh, that's all right," mumbled Jimmy. "If it works all right, we won't worry about the labor we put into it." "But don't you expect it to work?" asked Edna, teasingly. "Sure it will work," asserted Bob, before Jimmy could involve himself again. "That is, you'll hear music, all right, but it probably won't be very loud, even with the help of the horn. We're a long way from the broadcasting station, you know. If we were within ten or fifteen miles of it, I'd say surely that it would be a success." "I'll go and get the loop aerial, Bob, and we can test it right now," suggested Joe. "What do you think?" Bob nodded, and Joe left the room, returning a few minutes later with the loop. This was soon connected with the set, and then Bob began tuning for signals. "Mercy! what was that?" exclaimed Edna, while Ruth gave a little scream. From the horn came an ear-piercing howl, followed by whistles and weird unearthly shrieks. But the boys only laughed heartily at the girls. "That's nothing but old man static," said Bob. "We'll soon get him off the wires." "Does he live near here?" asked Ruth, innocently. "Wow!" shouted Herb, and the boys could not help laughing, although they stopped as soon as they saw the mystified and somewhat hurt expression in the girl's eyes. "That was just Bob's slangy way of talking," explained Joe, after he was sure that he had regained control of his features. "Static is the electricity that is always in the air, and gives us radio fans a good deal of trouble." "Oh, I see," said Ruth, and she was a good enough sport to laugh at her own mistake. Meantime Bob had finally got the set tuned to the proper wave length, and the little group were all delighted with the clarity and volume of the resultant sounds. They were not nearly as loud as an ordinary phonograph, but were sufficient to be heard distinctly in a fairly large room. "It's too bad we only have a one-stage amplifier," said Bob. "If we only had another transformer and vacuum tube, we'd have a loud speaker that you could hear all over the hotel." "I think this one is plenty good enough," asserted Edna. Both she and her sister were as excited as children with a new toy, and they were both delighted with the music. "You boys will have to bring this wonderful thing into the parlor tonight, and let everybody hear it," coaxed Edna. "I know they will all be tickled to death to hear a concert in this new way." "They might not be as enthusiastic as you think," said Bob, doubtfully. "Maybe they'd rather just talk, and wouldn't thank us for interrupting them." "What an idea!" exclaimed Ruth. "Just try it once, just to please us, and you'll soon find out whether they like it or not." "Well, if it's to please you, we'll certainly do that thing!" Bob gallantly remarked, and was rewarded by a friendly smile. "Edna and I will speak to the manager about it this afternoon, and I know it will be all right," she said. "We'll tell you what he says at supper time." The radio boys, although they were radio enthusiasts themselves, did not actually realize how deeply interested people had become in this new and wonderful science. They were somewhat surprised, therefore, when the manager sought them out that afternoon and told them that he would be more than delighted to have them give a radio concert that evening. CHAPTER XIV SCORING A TRIUMPH When he had gone the boys grinned at one another. "We're getting to be popular around this place," remarked Bob. "We sha'n't be quite so popular tomorrow, if the concert broadcasted tonight isn't a good one," said Joe. "I only wish we could get that loudspeaker to speak just a bit louder," said Herb. "It's only fair now, and those people will be expecting a lot, I suppose." "I was thinking the same thing," remarked Bob. "And if we're willing to pitch in this afternoon, we can improve the strength of our set a lot" The others looked incredulously at him. "Explain," said Joe. "You've got us guessing, Bob." "The way we've got our set hooked up now, we're using a loop antenna, aren't we? Well," as the others nodded assent, "why not unwind the loop and string a double aerial on the roof? That would give us a lot more power, you know." "Right you are!" exclaimed Joe. "That should make a lot of difference." "But if we do that, we'll have to have a ground, which isn't necessary with the loop antenna," objected Herb. "That's true enough," agreed Bob. "But that's easy, after all. We can hook our ground wire to one of the steam radiators." "Trust Bob to think of everything!" ejaculated Jimmy. "Bob is thinking that we'd better get busy, then," said that individual. "Heave yourself off that nice soft couch, Jimmy, and get your hat and overcoat on." Jimmy emitted a dismal groan. "Have a heart, Bob," he complained. "You know I worked so hard this morning that I'm all in." "All right, then, you stay there; but we'll tell Edna and Ruth that you refused to help," said Joe, cruelly. This threat had its effect, and Jimmy struggled to his feet and had his outer clothing on almost as soon as the others. It was a beautiful day outside, and after they once got warmed up, they thoroughly enjoyed the work of stringing the aerial on the roof. They brought the leading-in wire to one of the windows of the hotel parlor. It was not necessary to insulate this with anything heavier than friction tape, as this was to be only a temporary installation. Before dark they had everything ready, and then they went inside, moved their receiving set into the parlor, and connected it up to the leading-in wire. Following Bob's suggestion, they attached a ground wire to a radiator, and found that everything worked perfectly. As they had anticipated, the signals were considerably louder, and the old phonograph horn filled the big room with a satisfying volume of sound. During dinner the boys were so excited that they could hardly eat, and immediately afterward they hurried into the parlor. The guests had been notified of the impending concert, and soon almost everybody in the hotel had crowded into the room. The hotel manager made a little speech introducing the boys to those who had not already become acquainted with them, and mentioning the concert that was to come. Then every one waited expectantly for the promised entertainment. It proved unnecessary to do much tuning, as the adjustment they had secured that afternoon proved to be very nearly correct still. When the first clear notes floated into the room many of the audience straightened up in their chairs, while looks of astonishment passed over their features. At first they were too engrossed with the novelty of the thing to pay much attention to the music, but gradually the golden notes wove their magic net and held them all enthralled. The night was an ideal one for radiophony, cold and still, with hardly any static to annoy. One selection after another came in clear and distinct, and after each one the audience applauded instinctively, hardly conscious of the fact that upward of one hundred miles of bleak and snow-covered mountains and valleys lay between them and the performers. At length, to everybody's regret, the last number was played, and the receiving set was silent. Not so the audience, however, who overwhelmed the boys with thanks, and made them promise to entertain them in a similar manner on other evenings. After most of the audience had drifted out the Salper girls thanked the boys prettily for all they had done, and they felt more than repaid for the hard work of the day, even Jimmy admitting afterward that "it was worth it." The next day the boys were eager to see Bert Thompson, the radio man, and tell him about their successful experiment, so they set out for the government station soon after breakfast. It had snowed in the early morning, but had now stopped, and the air was cold and bracing. The four lads relieved the monotony of the long walk with, more than one impromptu exchange of snowballs. It seemed that they had hardly started before they had traversed the miles of difficult going and found themselves in the snug interior of the wireless house. As they were approaching it, they were astonished to see Mr. Salper emerge, a heavy frown on his usually none-too-cheerful countenance. He only nodded to the radio boys in passing, and hurried away through the snow at a pace of which they would never have believed him capable. When they entered the station they found Bert Thompson excited and angry. When they opened the door he started up, but when he saw who his visitors were, sank back in his chair. "I'm glad it's you fellows!" he exclaimed. "I thought it was that Wall Street man coming back. I'm not sure but I'll throw him out if he does. I'd like to, anyhow." "You are all up in the air," said Bob. "Did you have an argument with Mr. Salper?" "Well, he did most of the arguing," said the other, with a faint smile. "He's so blamed used to having his own way that if any one doesn't do just as he wants, he gets mad. "I suppose I should make allowances for him, because he has plenty to worry him," went on Thompson. "Some of those Wall Street manipulators are a ruthless bunch, and when they aren't busy taking money from an innocent public, they stage some battles between each other. Mr. Salper has an idea that a bunch of them are trying to swing the market against him while he's up here, and he seems to think that this is a public radio station, with nothing to do but send and receive messages for him all day. I'm working for Uncle Sam, not for him." "Oh, well, don't let him get you all stirred up, anyway," said Bob. "He doesn't mean half of what he says. He was real decent last night while we were giving our concert." "What do you mean, concert?" asked the wireless man. "Are you in the entertainment game now?" "Something like that," answered Bob, grinning, and then he told the operator about the concert of the previous evening. "That's fine," said Thompson heartily, when he had finished. "That was a good idea, to use a regular aerial instead of the loop. It certainly catches a lot more." "Yes, but the loop is mighty handy, just the same," remarked Joe. "Especially in a portable set. You can set it up in no time." "Oh, it's handy, there's no doubt of that," admitted the young wireless man. "I wish I had been there for the concert. I heard most of it here, but it must have been fun to watch the faces of the audience when you started in." "It was," laughed Herb. "I think that some of them imagined we had a phonograph hidden somewhere because after the concert was over a number of them looked all around the set as though they were hunting for something suspicious." "Likely enough," agreed Thompson. "Some people are mighty hard to convince." After some further conversation the boys took their leave, promising to come again for a longer visit. On the way back the chief topic of discussion was Mr. Salper, and the boys wondered more than once just what the nature of the trouble was that caused him to haunt the wireless station and besiege the operator with a flood of messages. CHAPTER XV THE SNOWSLIDE "Well," said Herb, philosophically, "'it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good.'" Bob, who had been shaking a tree for nuts and had shaken down more snow than anything else, looked at Herb inquiringly. "Now what's the poor nut raving about?" he asked slangily of Jimmy and Joe, who were also engaged in nut gathering. "I was just thinking," said Herb, with an attempt at dignity, "how sorry I am for all those poor sick people in Clintonia." "Oh, yes, you were," scoffed Jimmy, who was eating more nuts than he saved. "You were thinking how lucky we are to be here picking nuts in the woods instead of slaving away in Clintonia High." "Gee, that fellow must be a mind reader!" exclaimed Herb, grinning, and Bob, coming near, made a pass at him. "Say, get busy, old bluffer," he said. "You're getting slower than Doughnuts here. You haven't got half the nuts that I have." "But I'm having twice as much fun," countered Herb, unmoved "A fellow can't work all the time." "I wish I knew what was worrying Mr. Salper," said Joe, suddenly. "I wonder if that Wall Street bunch, is really out after his money." "Gee, he sure does know how to change the subject," murmured Herb, and Bob threw a nut at him, which he successfully ducked. "He seemed rather cut up about it, anyway," said Bob, in answer to Joe. "I wouldn't trust those Wall Street sharpers out of my sight myself," added Jimmy solemnly. "Gee, listen to the financier," gibed Herb. "He's lost so many millions in Wall Street himself." "Not yet," said Jimmy, plaintively. "But wait, my boy, my life is all before me." "Say," cried Joe, "if you two fellows don't look out I'll put you in my pocket with the other nuts." "Mr. Salper seems kind of a nut himself," said Joe, continuing with his own reflections. "He seems to have a grouch on everything and everybody." "No wonder, with all the worries he's got," said Jimmy, adding dolefully: "You see the penalties of extreme wealth." "One thing you'll never have to worry about," said Herb, and Jimmy grinned good-naturedly. "I'd rather have my sweet disposition," he sighed, "than all of Salper's wealth." "I don't see why you think he's so wealthy," Bob objected. "Everybody who trades in Wall Street isn't a millionaire, you know." "Say, wait a minute!" cried Bob suddenly, with an imperative wave of his hand. "Did you hear anything?" They listened for a moment in breathless silence and it came again, the call that Bob's sharp ears had first detected. In the distance it was, surely, but a distinct cry for help, nevertheless. "Come on, fellows! We're needed!" cried Bob, and, dropping his bag of nuts in the snow, he started off at a swift pace in the direction of the sound. The rest of the radio boys needed no second invitation. They started after Bob, pushing swiftly through the deep snow. But as the seconds passed and they heard no further outcry, they thought that they must have been mistaken or that they had started in the wrong direction. However, as they stopped to consider what to do, the cries began again, louder this time, a fact which told them they had been on the right track all along. They hurried on again, sometimes plunging into snowdrifts that reached nearly to their waists, but keeping doggedly on to the rescue. It was enough for the radio boys that some one was in trouble. Even roly-poly Jimmy, puffing painfully, but running gallantly along in the rear, had but one thought in his head, and that to help whoever needed help. As they came nearer the cries became louder, and they thought they could distinguish three voices, and one seemed to be that of a woman. Another minute they came upon a cleared space and stopped still for a moment to stare at the amazing scene which met their eyes. A woman stood, nearly knee deep in snow, waving her arms wildly, and even in that moment of astonishment they recognized her as Mrs. Salper. She was gesticulating toward something in front of her and calling urgently to the boys to hurry. Then the lads saw the cause of her distress. At the foot of a steep rise of ground, almost a small hill, was all that was to be seen of two girls. These latter had their heads above the snow that enveloped them and they were trying desperately to work their arms free of the icy blanket. From their expressions and from their wild cries for help it could be seen they were panic-stricken. "A snowslide!" Joe, who was standing close to Bob, heard him mutter. "Those girls had a narrow escape to keep from being buried entirely!" The next moment he was dashing off in the direction of the two prisoners, shouting encouragement to Mrs. Salper. The others were close at his heels. "We'll get you out all right," he called to the frightened girls, who had stopped their struggling and were looking at him hopefully. "Just keep still for a moment and save your breath. We'll have you out of there in a jiffy. "Dig, fellows, for all you're worth," he added to the boys, who, as usual, looked to him for directions. "These girls must be pretty cold by this time." For answer the boys did dig manfully, the imprisoned girls helping them as much as they could with their numb fingers, and before many minutes they had the snow cleared away sufficiently to be able to struggle through it to a spot where it was not so deep. The girls were, of course, Edna and Ruth Salper, the pretty daughters of the Wall Street broker. Edna and Ruth were trembling with cold and with the shock of their recent accident, and Mrs. Salper ran to them, putting an arm about each of them protectingly and pouring out thanks to the embarrassed boys. "That's all right," said Bob, modestly. "We couldn't very well have done anything else, you know. I hope," he added with a glance at the shivering girls, "that the girls won't take cold." "They will if I don't get them home quickly," said Mrs. Salper, adding, with a worried frown: "I wish we hadn't come so far from the house." It was then that Joe broke in. "I tell you what," he said, eagerly. "It isn't far to Mountain Rest----" "And there's sure to be a fire in the grate up there," Bob finished for him. "And it's a fire that will warm you up in a jiffy," added Herb with his most friendly smile. "If we can only make it," sighed Mrs. Salper. The radio boys knew of a short cut from this spot to Mountain Rest and along this they led the others as swiftly as they were able to travel. And on the way they learned how it was that the girls had happened to be in such a predicament. "I shouldn't have let them do it." It was Mrs. Salper who told the story. The two girls were still too shaken from their adventure to say anything. All they could think of was the comforting shelter of a room and an open grate fire. "They wanted to climb up that little hill to see what was on the other side of it," the lady went on to explain. "I didn't want them to, for I saw that the snow was deep. But they were in wild spirits, wouldn't listen to me, said I didn't need to come if I didn't want to--which I didn't!--and off they went. "When they had nearly reached the top Edna started to fall----" "No, it was Ruth, Mother," corrected the girl, showing the first sign of returning interest. "Well, it doesn't matter," said Mrs. Salper, with a sigh. "The result was the same. One of them clutched at the other and they both toppled down the hill. Their fall must have loosened a mass of the drifted snow and it came down on top of them. Heavens!" she shuddered at the memory. "It seemed as if the whole mountain side were falling on top of them! I thought they would be completely buried!" "Well, we were, almost," said Ruth, chafing her cold hands to bring the circulation back into them. "Anyway," she added with a stiff smile, "I feel almost as frozen as if I had been!" CHAPTER XVI THE MODERN MIRACLE "I bet you're cold," said Bob, sympathetically. "Never mind, we'll have you warmed up in a jiffy now." As a matter of fact, the big hotel was even then looming before them, and in a moment more they entered its doors, to find to their delight that a roaring fire was burning in the grate of the big living room. The two girls rushed to it joyfully, holding out their chilled hands to the blaze, snuggling to its warmth like two half-frozen kittens. They happened to have the big room all to themselves at that moment, and, after having drawn chairs up to the fire for Mrs. Salper and the girls, the boys excused themselves and hurried back to the spot where they had dropped their bags of nuts when the cry for help had interrupted them in their occupation. "Never do to lose the fruits of our labor," said Herb, grinning, as he picked up his own particular bag. The other boys did likewise, and they were soon hurrying back to the hotel again, talking excitedly about the rescue of the Salper girls. "It's mighty lucky we happened to be near enough to hear the cries for help," said Joe, soberly. "It would have been pretty hard for them to have forced their way through those drifts alone, half numbed as they were." "Yes," agreed Bob. "It's pretty nice to think of them warm and snug before the fire just now." "Queer," observed Jimmy as they neared the house, "that we should have been talking about them just at the time the thing happened." "Queer," said Herb patronizingly, "but not half so queer, Doughnuts, as the modern miracles that happen every day----" "Take radio, for instance," finished Bob, and they entered the hotel laughing. They found the two girls recovered from their fright and quite a good deal happier than they had been a few minutes before. They regarded the radio boys with interest, and it was clear that the girls and Mrs. Salper had been talking about them during their absence. "You're often called the 'radio boys,' aren't you?" challenged Edna, as the boys drew chairs up to the fire. "Why, I guess so," said Bob, with a smile. "Lots of folks call us that." "Dad was up at the radio station the other day and the operator there was enthusiastic about you," said Ruth Salper, in her direct way. "Said that if you kept on the way you were going, you would soon know more about radio than he does himself." "That's mighty nice of him, but I'm afraid he was boosting us too high," replied Bob, trying hard not to show how pleased he was. "That fellow at the station has forgotten more about radio than we ever knew," added Joe modestly, but in his heart he was as pleased at the praise as Bob was. It is always nice to receive commendation from some one who is an authority. "You're very modest," teased Edna gaily. "But when dad says anything nice about anybody he generally means it. He doesn't say nice things very often----" She caught a glance of reproof from her mother and bit her lip penitently. "You mustn't say unkind things about your father, Edna," said Mrs. Salper, gently. "You know he is worn to death with business worries. If we could once succeed in making him forget his responsibilities, he would be as jolly and fun-loving as he used to be." "Yes, dad used to be no end of fun," said Ruth, adding, with a fierce little frown and a clenching of her fists; "I just wish I could get hold of whoever's worrying him so. I'd give them something to worry about for a change." Then, seeming to realize that the boys might not be interested in her personal affairs--though as a matter of fact they were interested, extremely so--the girl tactfully turned the conversation to something which she thought might interest them. "Could we see your radio set?" she asked, impulsively. "We'd just love to have you tell us about it. As much as we could understand," she added, with a smile for the boys. Mrs. Salper protested feebly, but so eager were the boys to show off their set to the girl radio fans that her opposition was overcome almost at once. Then followed a happy hour during which the radio boys talked learnedly of condensers and amplifiers and different kinds of receivers until the admiration of the girls mounted almost to awe. "My, but it sounds worse than Greek!" cried Edna Salper once, as she bent absorbedly over the apparatus that worked such miracles and bore such high-sounding names. "This is the tuning apparatus, isn't it?" she asked, gingerly touching the wire coil. "It seems almost impossible that you can tune to any wave length with this thing, just as the piano tuner can tune the wires of his instrument to the proper sound vibration." "It--the whole thing--seems impossible," added Ruth, while Mrs. Salper found herself quite as interested as her daughters. "Yes, that's the way it seemed to us at first," agreed Bob, his eyes shining. "When Doctor Dale told us we could make a set for ourselves we could hardly believe him. But it didn't seem a bit hard once we got started and learned the hang of it." "You mean to say that you made this set yourselves?" asked Mrs. Salper, with interest. "Oh, this is nothing. We've made lots of 'em," said Jimmy proudly, at which Herb promptly kicked him under the table. The injured Jimmy glared at his assailant, but the others were too much interested in the subject to notice him. "You see this is a comparatively small set," Bob explained. "But we're working on a powerful apparatus now," broke in Joe eagerly. "And when we have that in working shape we'll be able to send as well as receive." "Well, I think you're just as smart as father said you were," said Ruth, and at this candid compliment the confused boys thought it time to change the subject. "How about listening in a while?" suggested Bob, struck by a sudden inspiration. "We ought to be just about in time to catch the afternoon concert--if there is one. Would you like to find out?" "Would we?" cried Edna, enthusiastically. "Indeed we would!" "Just try us," added Ruth happily. So the boys showed them how to fit the head-phones, not using the loudspeaker they had made from the phonograph horn, and adjusted the tuning apparatus to the proper wave length, and the girls answered to the thrill of catching music magically from the ether just as the boys had done on that never-to-be-forgotten evening when their first concert had reached them over the wires of their first receiving set. Crude it seemed to them now in the light of later improvements, but an instrument of magic it had been to them that night. No wonder that the boys felt a warm and real friendship for the Salper girls--and Mrs. Salper, too--a friendship that would have been surprising, considering the shortness of their acquaintance, had it not been that they were all radio fans, dyed in the wool. So quickly did the time fly that Mrs. Salper was amazed and apologetic when she found how long they had lingered. "We must hurry!" she exclaimed, starting toward the door, the girls reluctantly following. "Your father will surely think we are all lost in a snowdrift." "Which two of us came very near being," added Edna, with a laugh. "Don't joke about it," said Ruth, with a shiver. "I must say being buried in a snowdrift wasn't very pleasant--while it lasted." The radio boys insisted upon accompanying the Salpers home, explaining that they could show them the shortest path. Gaily they started out and before they had reached the Salper place the friendship which had begun the evening of the concert with their mutual interest in radio, became steadily stronger. It was plain that, besides being grateful to them for having come to the help of the girls, Mrs. Salper liked the boys for their own sakes. When they reached the house she begged them to come in with her so that Mr. Salper might have the opportunity of thanking them for their kindness. The boys skillfully avoided accepting this invitation by pointing out that it was getting late and the path would be hard to find in the dusk. "Thanks ever so much for everything," Ruth Salper called after them as they started off, and Edna added: "We're going to frighten dad into getting us a radio set by threatening to make one ourselves!" "I shouldn't wonder if they could make a set, at that," said Bob thoughtfully, as they tramped on alone. "They're smart enough." "For girls," added Herb, condescendingly. Whereupon Jimmy turned and eyed him scornfully. "Say, where do you get that stuff?" he jeered. "If those girls couldn't make a better radio set than you, I'd sure feel sorry for them." "Ha! I'll wash your face for saying that," was the quick answer, and the next instant Jimmy felt some snow on his ear. Then began a snow battle between all the boys which lasted until they reached the hotel. CHAPTER XVII THRASHING A BULLY After that the boys saw a good deal of Edna and Ruth Salper. The latter were thoroughly good sports and entered into the fun of the moment with such enthusiasm that the radio boys declared they were lots more fun than a good many of the fellows they knew. They went nutting together, tramped through the woods, read together the latest discoveries in the radio field, until the girls became almost as great enthusiasts as the boys. The boys were often asked to visit the Salper home, but it was seldom that they took advantage of these invitations. "It would be pleasant enough," Herb declared, "if only grouchy Mr. Salper were not always around to put a damper on the sport." As a matter of fact, on the rare occasions when they happened to meet, Mr. Salper hardly uttered a word, but it was this very silence of his that made the boys uneasy. "I feel sometimes," Jimmy remarked, "as if I'd like to put a tack on his chair, just to see if he'd say 'ouch' when it stuck into him." "He'd probably say a sight worse than that," Bob replied, with a laugh, However, they were having too good a time to allow Mr. Salper and his grouches to interfere much with them. They became familiar figures at the sending and receiving station, and the operator always received them cordially. They often had long and interesting discussions which were not only delightful to the boys but extremely helpful as well. "It seems," said Jimmy, with a grin, "as if all the radio inventors were running a race with each other to see who can get the greatest number of inventions on the market in the shortest space of time." "You said something that time, boy," the operator replied ruefully. "The smart fellows are keeping us dubs on the jump trying to catch up with them. Not that I intend to put you in the 'dub' class with myself," he added, with a grin. "I only wish we knew half as much about the game as you do," Bob returned heartily. "I think we'd be mighty well satisfied." One day when the radio boys had left Edna and Ruth Salper and were tramping through the woods alone, they spoke of the operator admiringly. "He sure does know a lot about radio," said Joe. "He must stay up all night studying." "Guess that's what's the matter with him," remarked Bob, soberly. "He spends too much of his time indoors, boning. He should get out in the open more." "Looks as if a little fresh air might tone him up some," Herb admitted. "He looks as if a breath of air might blow him away." "If I looked as thin as he does, I'd go see a doctor," said Jimmy emphatically. It was a fact that the operator at the station, while looking far from strong when the boys had first seen him, had grown thinner and thinner and paler and paler until now he seemed to be positively going into a decline. Because they had a sincere regard for Bert Thompson, the boys had tried to lure him out into the open, but he had been proof against all their blandishments. And after a while the boys had given up trying. "If he wants to kill himself," Bob had grumbled, "I suppose we'll have to let him have his own way about it." And now at this particular time when the boys were at peace with the world, something suddenly happened that gave them a rude jolt. Talking happily of improvements they expected to apply to their new radio outfit, they came suddenly upon--Buck Looker and his crowd. To say they were surprised would not have half expressed it. They were dumbfounded and mad--clear through. So here were these rascals, turning up as they always did, just in time to spoil the fun. That Buck and his cronies had been talking about them was evident from the fact that at the appearance of the radio boys they stopped short in what they were saying and looked sullenly abashed. And from their confusion Bob guessed that the meeting was as much a surprise to the "gang" as it was to themselves. The boys would have gone on without speaking, hoping to avoid trouble if it was possible, but Buck hailed them boisterously. "Say, what are you guys doing here?" he asked, sneeringly, thrusting himself almost directly in front of Bob, so that the latter would be forced to step aside in order to pass him. "That's what I'd like to ask you," returned Bob, feeling himself grow hot all over. "Get out of my way, Buck. You're cramping the scenery." "Aw, what's your awful rush?" asked Buck, refusing to move, while Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney sidled over to the bully, keeping a wary eye on Bob's right fist, nevertheless. "Say, get out of here, Buck Looker, and get quick!" It was Joe who spoke this time, and any one not as stupid as Buck Looker would have known it was time to do as he was told. But because of the fire that had burned to the ground his father's disreputable cottage in the woods and which he and his followers had blamed upon the radio boys, Buck Looker thought himself safe in taunting the latter as much as he wished. He assumed that they would not dare resent anything he said or did, for fear he would make public the matter of the fire and accuse them openly. It was a chance of a lifetime for Buck--or so he thought--and he was determined not to over-look it. So his manner became more insulting than ever and his face took on a wider grin as his glance shifted from Bob to Joe. "So you're in a hurry, too, are you?" he sneered. "Going to set some more houses on fire, eh?" He turned to his cronies with a grin and they piped up together as if by a prearranged signal: "Firebrands!" This undeserved insult was more than the radio boys could stand, and all stepped forward with clenched fists. "You take that back, Buck Looker!" cried Joe, with flashing eyes. "Take back nothing!" answered the bully. "Yes, you will!" broke in Bob, and caught Buck by the arm. At once the bully aimed a savage blow at Bob's head. But the latter ducked, and an instant later his clenched fist landed upon Buck's chin with such weight that the bully was sent over backward into the snow. At the instant when Buck made his attack on Bob, Terry Mooney tried to hit Joe with a stick he carried. Joe promptly caught hold of the stick, and, putting out his foot, sent Terry backward into a snowdrift. Seeing this, Carl Lutz started to run away, but both Herb and Jimmy went after him and knocked him flat. "You let me alone! I didn't do anything!" blubbered Carl, who was a thorough coward. "You can't call me a firebrand," answered Herb, and while fat Jimmy sat on the luckless Carl, Herb rammed some snow into his ear and down his neck. While this was going on both Buck and Terry had scrambled to their feet, and then began a fierce fight between that pair and Bob and Joe. Blows were freely exchanged, but soon the radio boys had the better of it, and when Terry's lip was bleeding and swelling rapidly, and Buck had received a crack in the left eye and it was also swelling, all three of the cronies were only too glad to back away. "Have you had enough?" demanded Bob, pantingly. "If you haven't, we'll give you some more," added Joe. "You just wait! We'll get square with you some other time," muttered Buck. And thereupon he and his cronies lost no time in sneaking away into the woods. "Of all the mean fellows that ever lived!" cried Herb. "I guess they'll leave us alone--for a while, anyway," came from Joe, as he felt of his shoulder where he had received a blow. "I wonder what those fellows are doing around here, anyway," said Bob thoughtfully. "Do you suppose they're putting up at the Mountain Rest Hotel, too?" "More than likely," answered Joe, gloomily. "Perhaps they've been driven out of Clintonia, too, on account of the epidemic. I heard quite a number of the other young folks were getting out. The whole town is pretty well scared." "They are sure trying their best to make trouble for us," added Jimmy. "That fire in the woods was just nuts for them," said Bob, with a frown. "They've been trying for a long time to get something on us, and now they think they've got it. They think we're afraid to beat 'em up now as they deserve, for fear they'll tell everybody we set that old shack on fire." "It was a funny thing," remarked Joe, musingly, "how that fire started, anyway." "Oh, what's the use of worrying?" added Herb, carelessly. "I reckon the memory of that licking will keep Buck quiet for a while. Say, that was a fine piece of work you did, Bob! The memory lingers." Bob grinned. "How about yourselves?" he asked, adding, with a gleam in his eyes: "I didn't notice Terry Mooney and Carl Lutz looking very happy!" CHAPTER XVIII A NEST OF CONSPIRATORS The radio boys saw Buck Looker often--all too often--in the days that followed. As the boys had feared, Buck and his crowd were staying at the Mountain Rest Hotel, and it was almost impossible to help encountering them. Several times there were arguments which almost resulted in blows, but Buck always managed to sneak off at the critical moment, leaving the boys to fume helplessly. "Wish we could find out how that shack of theirs caught fire," Joe grumbled on one of these occasions. "Then we could stop their mouths on that firebrand question once and for all." "Wouldn't make any difference," remarked Herb gloomily. "If they couldn't make trouble for us on that score, they'd think up something else." But about this time something happened that took the minds of the radio boys from Buck Looker and his trouble making. One day, as they were tramping through the woods in the still deep snow, they came upon a little decrepit-looking one-room shack, standing dejectedly within a circle of skeleton trees. They had wandered further than usual from camp in exploring the surrounding country and had come upon the tiny cabin unexpectedly. Jimmy was about to utter a gleeful shout at sight of the interesting-looking place when Bob clapped a warning hand over his mouth. "Keep still," he whispered sharply. "I hear voices in there." "Well, what if you do?" demanded Joe, but he kept his voice cautiously lowered just the same. "Probably some harmless dubs----" "Like ourselves," finished Jimmy, with a grin, "seeking shelter from the bitter weather." "Well, whoever they are, they sure are mad about something," said Bob, hardly knowing why he should be so excited. The voices inside that one-room shack had been raised in altercation, but now, as the boys listened, somebody evidently cautioned silence, for once more the tones were lowered almost to a whisper. "There's something mysterious about this," said Bob, his eyes gleaming joyfully. "I vote we look into it." "Right-o," agreed Joe, following the leader as Bob started softly toward the shack. What they expected to find they had no idea. But it was an understood, though unspoken, rule with the radio boys never to pass by anything that looked in the least mysterious. And certainly this queer little shack in the woods bore all the air of mystery. There was one small window near where they were standing and the four boys crowded up to this, jostling each other in the attempt to be the first to see through the dingy pane. "Hey!" whispered Jimmy in anguish, as Joe's foot clamped firmly down upon his. "Quit parking on my toe, will you? There's lots of room on the ground." Joe snickered derisively and that small sound came near to proving their undoing. For inside the cabin it happened that for a moment every one had stopped talking and in the silence Joe's laugh was distinctly audible. "Some one's getting in on this," they heard one of the voices say, as though its owner were nervous, yet was trying his best to hide his uneasiness. "Let's take a look around, boys. You never can be too sure." The radio boys looked at each other in consternation. There was no time to get away, even if they had wanted to. And now that they were convinced there was crooked work going on in the shack, they certainly did not want to leave. Bob flattened himself against the wall and motioned to his chums to do likewise. If the fellows found them and wanted to put up a fight, "well, they'd get their money's worth, anyway." But it so happened that the lads were not discovered. The door of the shack was on the opposite side from them, and either the men were too lazy to search carefully or they were too confident of the obscurity of their meeting place. At any rate, they went to the door, looked around, and, finding no one within sight, evidently decided that they had been mistaken in thinking they had heard a suspicious noise and reëntered the shack without searching further. "You're crazy, Mohun," the boys heard one of them remark, in an irritable voice. "You're letting your imagination--and your nerves--run away with you." "Well, this deal is enough to get on anybody's nerves," was the grumbled reply, evidently from the person addressed as Mohun. "If we don't put it across pretty quick I'm going to quit. I've told you too much delay would be fatal." The boys glanced at each other, and the relief they had felt at not being discovered was closely followed by huge excitement as they became more and more certain that they were on the verge of making an important discovery. They crowded closer to the window though, mindful of how close they had come to discovery, they were careful to make not the slightest sound. Bob, who was closest to the window, could, by exercising the greatest caution, peer into the shadows of the room. He put out his hand as a warning to Joe, who was crowding him closely. "Don't push," he said, in the merest whisper. "I have a notion this is going to be good." So had the other boys, but they were mad clean through at the fate that prevented their getting a glimpse into the tumbled-down shanty. However, they held back, knowing that if they were too eager they would spoil everything. Discovery then would mean that they would never hear the secret these men were about to disclose. The old shack had evidently once been lived in, for it was fitted up with furniture of a crude sort. Along one side of the room ran two long bunks, one above the other, and on the walls were some old dilapidated-looking pictures, evidently cut out of magazines or news periodicals. There was a three-legged, rickety table in the center of the room, and about this the conspirators--for such they were--were gathered. Two of the men had chairs, patently home-made, for seats, while the third, who sat facing Bob, had merely an empty wooden box turned on end. It was this last fellow who was now speaking and who had been addressed by the name of Mohun. He was short and of fair complexion, with protruding, horsey teeth that stuck out disagreeably over his lip. Another of the trio was a giant of a fellow, tall, dark and heavy-browed, while the third, who sat with his back to Bob, was of slighter build, but nearly as tall. Mohun seemed to be the leader of the party, for now he was leaning across the rickety table, talking earnestly and emphasizing his remarks with blows of his fist upon it. "I tell you, Merriweather," he said, addressing the giant, "this is our time to act. You are merely pussy-footing when you ask delay. I am convinced that delay means suicide." Jimmy, catching the last word, gasped involuntarily and Bob nudged him warningly. "Keep still," he hissed. "This sure is going to be good!" The two other men looked uncertain but the fellow called Mohun was pushing the point home. "This is our chance," he cried vehemently. "Salper is out of the way for the present, but we never know when he may take the notion to go back to the old job. They say he is getting mighty restive already." At the mention of Mr. Salper's name Bob fell back in his amazement and landed on Joe's foot, whereupon the latter emitted a squeak of pain that he immediately stifled. "Did you hear that?" demanded Bob in an excited whisper, without a thought for poor Joe's foot. "They're talking about Mr. Salper." Eagerly he turned back to the window while Herb whispered in an awed tone: "Maybe they're going to murder the old fellow." "Say, keep still, can't you?" said Bob impatiently, as he strained his ears to catch the lowered tones of the three men. Herb subsided, and the four of them waited with bated breath to find out what these three conspirators had to do with Gilbert Salper. "Maybe you're right, Mohun," the tall man with the craggy brows answered reluctantly. "But I can't help thinking that to strike now is a poor move." "In two or three weeks we'll have everything just as we want it," added the man who sat with his back to Bob. "We'll have a sure thing then, while now----" The man called Mohun threw up his hands in a gesture of despair. "Pussy-footing again!" he cried disgustedly. "What kind of gamblers are you, anyway, to wait until you have a sure thing before you test your luck? Don't you know that the big deals down on the Street that have been successful have been put through because the fellows doing it had nerve?" "Yes, but not many of the deals have been as big or as important as this," said the giant quietly. "All the more reason to strike quickly," argued Mohun, with heat, adding in a lowered tone: "I tell you this absence of Salper from Wall Street is the chance of a lifetime. It's the thing we've been waiting for. With him on the Street we haven't a chance for our lives. With him away, we have everything in our own hands. Now it's up to you whether we make the most of our luck, or throw it in the rubbish heap." "But Salper is up here for an indefinite length of time," argued the man with his back to Bob. "It is said he will stay at least a month, maybe two. And a week--two at the outside--is all we need to make sure of relieving him of some of his ill-gotten wealth." The man laughed noisily at this poor attempt at humor, and Mohun glanced nervously about him. "Better look out," he said, peevishly. "You never can tell who's listening. They say the trees have ears around this way." "Your nerves are getting the best of you, I think," cried the big man. "Just because you've got cold feet is no reason why we should take the chance of losing out on the biggest deal we've had the chance of handling for many a day. Get a good sleep, man, and you'll think the way we do, tomorrow." For a moment it seemed as though Mohun were about to spring upon the big man and Bob held his breath, expecting a struggle. Mohun's face turned a brick red and his lips drew back from his protruding upper teeth as though in a snarl. His hands clenched, he took a step toward the bigger man who had half risen from his chair. "Then I'll tell you one thing, you pussy-footers!" he cried furiously. "If this deal isn't pulled through by the end of a week and if by that time we haven't our hands on a good chunk of Salper's money, then I'm through. Do you hear that? I quit!" CHAPTER XIX ON GUARD The radio boys had heard enough. Silently they tiptoed from their vantage point, putting off the tremendous desire to exclaim about what they had heard until they had put a good distance between themselves and the shack. Then they overflowed with wonder and excitement. "Say, wait till we spring this news on Mr. Salper!" cried Herb. "The man will near go off his head." "Gosh, you couldn't blame him," said Joe, in an awed tone. "I wouldn't like to have those three fellows after my hard-earned cash myself." "Then he was right when he thought there was somebody after his money," said Bob, striding along so swiftly in his excitement that poor Jimmy had hard work to keep up with him. "We thought he was kind of crazy, but I guess he knew what he was talking about all the time." "But I say, you got all the best of it, Bob," said Herb. "Why couldn't you let the rest of us get a glimpse of some honest-to-goodness sharpers?" "They weren't much to look at," said Bob, with a frown. "That man they called Mohun was one of the ugliest scoundrels I've ever seen." "Was he any worse than Cassey?" asked Jimmy, curiously. "If he was he must have been going some," added Herb, with conviction. "I guess nobody could be much worse than Cassey," said Bob, frowning at the memory of the stuttering scoundrel's evil acts. "But he's just as bad. When he jumped at that big fellow with the bushy eyebrows I thought he was going to bite him. He has teeth that stick away out over his under lip." "Must be a beauty," commented Herb. "I say," said poor Jimmy, fairly running in his effort to keep up with the other boys, "you're not going toward the hotel, Bob. May I ask where you are going?" "Why, Doughnuts, you shouldn't have to ask," broke in Joe, before Bob could respond. "Don't you know there is only one place where we could be going after hearing such rotten news as we've just heard?" "We're going to the Salpers, of course," finished Herb, with a condescending air that irritated the plump and puffing Jimmy. "Well, you needn't be so fresh about it," he grumbled, rubbing his empty stomach ruefully. "It's nearly dark----" "And it's dinner time," added Joe, with a grin. "How well we know you, Doughnuts." "Well," grumbled Jimmy, grinning reluctantly, "I don't see why the Salpers can't wait till we can get something to eat." "It won't take us long," said Bob, who had been thinking hard as they tramped along. "We'll just stop in and tell them what we've heard and then go on. I don't suppose there is anything that we can do." "I guess Mr. Salper will do all that's necessary when he finds his money threatened," said Joe significantly. "I reckon he's had a hunch that something of this kind has been going on for a long time--in fact, he as much as told us so," said Bob. "But I guess these rascals were so clever he couldn't put his finger on them." "I wonder what kind of deal they were talking about," mused Herb. "It was a crooked one, anyway," said Bob, decidedly. "All you had to do was to look at them to know that." The little shack in the woods was a long way from the Salper place, and so, in spite of their hurry, the boys did not reach it until just on the edge of dark. The entire family was gathered in the living room of the Salper cottage, even Mr. Salper himself, and the boys threw their bomb right into the midst of them. Mr. Salper had seemed inclined, as he usually did, to draw apart by himself, but at the very beginning of the boys' story, he evinced an almost fierce interest. He questioned them minutely while the girls and Mrs. Salper listened wonderingly. "You said the name of one of the men was Mohun?" he asked, throwing away the cigar he had been smoking and bending earnestly toward Bob. "What did he look like?" The disagreeable impression the man had made upon him was still so vivid that Bob had no trouble at all in giving a graphic description of the fellow. Mr. Salper's face grew blacker and blacker as he listened and he pulled out another cigar, biting off the end of it viciously. "That's the fellow I've been suspecting all along," he said, finally. "Slick fellow, that Mohun. Whenever a man gets too eager to do things for you I've learned to suspect him. Yet, closely as I've watched this man, I haven't been able to get a thing on him. As far as we could find out, he was perfectly square. But, by Jove, this puts an entirely new face on things." He paused for a moment, puffing hard on his cigar while the others all watched him anxiously. The ill humor which had been hanging over him for so long seemed magically to have vanished. Now that his suspicions had been so unexpectedly justified, bringing with them the need for action, the broker was a different man, entirely. His brow had cleared and there was an eager light in his keen eyes. "You fellows have done me the greatest of possible services," he said, turning to the radio boys--he had forgotten up to that time to thank them for what they had done. "If you could know what it means to me to have this information----" He broke off, running his hand excitedly through his hair, his eyes gazing unseeingly out of the window. "I must act and act quickly," he muttered, after a minute. "There is surely no time to lose. You said this man Mohun was urging haste?" he added, turning to Bob. The latter nodded. "Said he'd quit if they didn't get a move on, or words to that effect," he told his questioner, and Mr. Salper smiled a preoccupied smile in response. "Then Mohun will get what he wants. He has a way of getting what he wants," he said, again with that air of speaking to himself. "I'm glad to know it's Mohun--very glad!" Although Bob had given as good a description as was possible of the other two men who had been in the shack with Mohun, Mr. Salper did not recognize them. "Probably a couple of dark horses," he said, and dismissed the subject. Evidently, to him, Mohun was the most important of the rascals and the one it was necessary to deal with at once. After repeated thanks from Mr. Salper and outspoken gratitude on the part of Mrs. Salper and the girls, the boys managed to get away. They hurried on toward the Mountain Rest Hotel, talking excitedly of what had happened. "That was sure just dumb luck," remarked Joe as he sniffed of the cold brisk air and began to realize that he was very hungry. "Our happening on that little shack just as we did," he added in response to an enquiring look from Bob. "You bet," agreed Herb. "That was the time our luck was running strong. It will do me good if those scoundrels get come up with, especially the one with the big teeth." "Oh, stop talking and hurry up," begged Jimmy, who, in his eagerness to get back to the hotel and dinner, was actually leading the others. "It seems ten miles to the house when your poor old system is crying aloud for grub." They laughed at him but followed his example just the same, for they had been tramping many hours and their appetites were never of the uncertain variety. But just before they reached the welcome lights of the cottage they realized to their surprise that it was snowing again. So fast were the flakes coming that by the time they reached the door of the hotel they were well powdered with them. "Hooray!" shouted Herb. "We sure are getting our money's worth of snow this winter." "You bet," agreed Bob, adding happily: "And this one looks like a 'lallapaloosa.'" CHAPTER XX BROKEN WIRES True to Bob's prediction, the snowstorm proved to be a fierce one even for this season of unusual snows, and when the boys awoke the next morning they found that the ground had taken on an extra covering and the branches of the trees were weighted down with the heavy fall. "Say, fellows, look what's here!" cried Joe as he roused his mates, sleepy-eyed from their comfortable beds. "Old Jack Frost sure was busy last night." "Guess he thinks it's Thanksgiving," Bob agreed as he hurried into his clothes, keeping one eye on the frosty landscape and fairly aching to make part of it. "Hurry up, fellows, let's go out and have a snow fight." "You're on," agreed Joe, and then began the race to see who would get from their cottage to the hotel and to the breakfast table first. They arrived there--at the breakfast table, that is--at one and the same time and ate as ravenously as though they had not broken their fast in a week. Mr. and Mrs. Layton watched them and smiled, wishing that they might once more eat with such lusty appetites. Before the boys had finished breakfast, it had begun to snow again, making the landscape appear more than ever blizzardy and bleak. Eagerly the boys buttoned up heavy sweaters, prepared to fight the storm to a finish. It seemed that they were not the only ones whom the storm had lured forth. There were a number of people gathered in front of the hotel and, since they seemed rather excited about something, three of the boys joined them to find out what the fuss was all about, Jimmy remaining behind for the time being to take a nail from his shoe. "The telegraph wires are all down," said a man in response to Bob's question. "There's a man been raving around here like a crazy man, declaring he has to send a telegram. Nobody can seem to make him understand that since the wires are all down such a thing is impossible." "He might telephone," Joe suggested, but the man who had been their informant took him up quickly. "They're down too," he said. "We're as marooned here, as far as any communication with the outside world is concerned, as though we were stranded on an island in the midst of the ocean. This storm has done considerable damage." "I should say so," remarked Joe, as the gentleman turned to some one else and the boys started on a tour of the place to look over the prospect. "I'll call it some damage to knock down both telephone and telegraph wires at one fell swoop." "That talk about our being just as badly off for communication with the outside world as though we were on an island isn't quite correct," observed Herb. "That fellow seemed to forget all about trains." "I suppose he meant quick communication," said Bob. "We could send a message by wire in an hour or less, while it would take two or three times that time to send the same message by rail." "That's so," agreed Herb, staring up at the wires which had fallen beneath their weight of snow. "I'd hate to _have_ to get a message through for any reason just now. But look," he added, pointing to the hotel. "Our aerials are still up anyway." "I wonder who the fellow was who was so anxious to telegraph," said Joe, after a few minutes. "He must think himself in bad luck." Bob brought his gaze from the damaged wires and stared at the boys, and at Jimmy who just then came puffing up. "Say, I bet that was Mr. Salper," Bob said. "Don't you remember last night that he said he must get a message through to his broker first thing in the morning?" "By Jove, the storm knocked it clear out of my head!" exclaimed Joe. "Say, I feel sorry for him, all right." "Wish we could help him some way," said Herb anxiously. "It would never do to let that fellow Mohun and his pals get off with the filthy lucre just when we thought we'd double-crossed them so nicely." "I guess that's where Mr. Salper would agree with you," said Jimmy, with a grin. "Especially since the filthy lucre belongs to him." They walked on in silence for a few moments, chagrined at the thought that the storm had played so into the hands of Mr. Salper's enemies. They had learned from Mr. Salper the night before that Mohun of the protruding teeth was not the kind of man to let a golden opportunity pass. He would rush the "deal" through while Salper was out of town, and, from the latter's impatience, they had gathered that the next few hours would, in all probability, be the crucial time. "Burr-r-r!" cried Jimmy suddenly, wrapping his arms as far as they would go about his chubby body and shivering with the cold. "This weather sure does make a fellow wish for a fur overcoat. The thermometer must have gone down twenty degrees over night." "Hear who's talking!" scoffed Herb. "With all that fat on your bones, Doughnuts, you haven't a chance in the world of feeling cold." "I suppose you know more than I do about it--not being me," retorted Jimmy, scathingly. "I'd just like you to feel the way I do; that's all." "Well, it isn't what you might call unpleasantly hot," observed Bob. "I must say I'm not sweltering, myself." "Guess it isn't much colder than this up at the North Pole," agreed Joe, as he turned his sweater collar up higher about his ears. "Might as well rig up as an Eskimo and be done with it." "Reminds me of that Norwegian, Amundsen," said Bob. "He sure intends to discover the North Pole with all the fancy trimmings, this time." "What do you mean?" asked Herb, with interest. "Do you mean to say you haven't read about it?" demanded Jimmy, indulgently. "Why, he's the fellow who is going to have his ship all dressed up with wireless so that when he smashes his ship against the North Pole he can let everybody know about it." "It's a great idea, I call it," said Joe, enthusiastically. "Up to this time, explorers haven't had any way of communicating with the outside world, and so if they got in trouble they just had to get out of it the best way they could or die in the attempt." "While now," Bob took him up eagerly, "his wireless messages will be picked up by hundreds of stations all over the world and in case of need ships and teams of huskies and even aeroplanes can be rushed to his rescue." "Exploring de luxe," murmured Herb, with a comical look. "Pretty soon there won't be any such thing as adventure because there won't be any danger. We'll have radio to watch over us and keep us from all harm." "It's all right for you to talk that way," said Jimmy. "But I bet if you were one of these explorer chaps you'd be mighty glad to have something watch over you and help you out of a tight fix." "Yes, I guess those fellows need all the help they can get," agreed Bob, soberly. "It isn't any joke to be away out there with hundreds of miles of ice and water between them and civilization." "They say even the sledges are to be equipped with radio," Joe broke in. "So that they can keep in touch with the ship all the time and through the medium of the powerful sending set aboard the boat the ship itself can be kept in constant touch with the outside world." "There are planes too, equipped with radio," added Bob. "And they say each plane is outfitted with skids so that it can land safely on the ice." "I should think there would be danger in that," remarked Jimmy, rubbing his hands vigorously to set the blood circulating again. "They say the ice is awfully rough and bumpy and spattered with small hills of ice. I should think a pilot would have a jolly time trying to make a landing under those conditions." "They intend to cut out the ice about the ship so as to make landing possible," explained Bob. "And in the other places the skids help them to make a sure landing. Say, wouldn't I like to make one of that expedition!" he added, with enthusiasm. "I wonder how long they expect this expedition to take," said Herb. The idea of exploring the arctic with radio as a companion was a fascinating one to him and at that moment he would have made one of Amundsen's hardy crew, if such a thing were possible, with the greatest joy. "They expect it will take them five years, maybe six." It was Bob who answered the question. "Their idea is to travel as far as possible north before the ice gets thick. Then when the floes close in about them they will drift with the ice over the pole--or, at least, that's what they hope to do." "What gets me," said Jimmy plaintively, "is how they are going to know when they get to the pole anyway." Herb made a pass at him which the fat boy nimbly avoided. "Why, you poor fish," said the former witheringly, "you sure will be a full-sized nut if you ever live to grow up. I suppose if you got to the North Pole you'd expect to see a clothes pole with the clothes line wrapped around it, ready for use." CHAPTER XXI A SUDDEN INSPIRATION Unconsciously their feet had carried the radio boys in the direction of the radio station and now they were surprised to find themselves confronted by the building itself. "We've come some way," Herb began with a chuckle, but Bob cut him short excitedly. "Look!" he cried. "Didn't I tell you that radio was the best ever? Just cast your eye on that aerial. You don't see that trailing on the ground, do you?" For a moment the other radio boys failed to grasp the significance of his words. Then they let out a great shout of triumph. For what Bob had said was true. Where other means of communication with the outside world failed, radio stood firm. The aerial was there, towering as serenely against the slaty sky as though there was no such thing as a snowstorm. The great marvel of radio! For no wires, other than the antenna, were needed to carry its messages to the farthermost parts of the world! For a moment the boys were awed as the real significance of the modern miracle was borne home to them. It was magnificent, it was inspiring merely to have the privilege of living in such an age. "Well, Mr. Salper doesn't need to worry," said Joe, at last. "There's always radio on the job if he wants to get a quick message through to New York." "It's queer he didn't think of it," agreed Bob, adding, as the intense cold struck still more deeply into his bones: "Come on in, fellows. I'd like to see what the operator has to say to all this excitement." "You bet," said Jimmy, adding fervently: "And it will give us a chance to thaw out." When the boys reached the room which had become so familiar to them, they found that here too, the old régime had been interrupted. Several men were gathered in the far corner of the room, talking earnestly, and the long table where the operator could be seen daily bending earnestly over his beloved apparatus was vacant. The operator himself was nowhere to be seen. Sensing something unusual, the boys came forward hesitantly. At sight of them one of the men detached himself from the group of his companions and came quickly over to them. The boys did not know his name, but his face was familiar to them. "A most unfortunate thing has happened," burst out this man nervously, without even an attempt at a preface. "The operator here has been taken very ill with a fever and we are at a loss to find any one who can take his place in this emergency." The modesty of the radio boys was such that at that moment no thought of the possibility of their being able to take the experienced operator's place entered their heads. They were earnestly sorry for the misfortune which had overtaken their friend, and they told the man so. It seemed to them that the latter was rather disappointed about something, and he listened to their words of sympathy absently. After a moment he left them and rejoined his companions at the other end of the room. "Say, that's tough luck," said Jimmy, his round face comically long. "I knew that fellow would get into trouble if he didn't take more exercise." Bob fumbled with the familiar apparatus on the table, his face troubled. "If he's out of his head with fever, he must be pretty sick," he muttered, as though talking to himself. "And that means that he won't be able to attend to radio for a good long time to come." "And with telegraph and telephone wires all down, that's pretty much of a calamity," added Joe, his eyes meeting Bob's with a look of understanding. "Say!" cried Herb, suddenly seeing what they were driving at, "that knocks out Mr. Salper's last chance of getting even with those crooks." "Yes," said Bob, soberly, "I guess the game's up, as far as he's concerned." "Let's go over to the hotel and inquire for the sick man," Joe suggested, adding hopefully, "maybe he isn't as sick as they make out." The operator had a room at the hotel, and the boys had been there once or twice to talk over points on radio with him and so they knew exactly where to go. However, if they had treasured any hope that Bert Thompson's sickness had been exaggerated, they were promptly undeceived. No one was allowed to speak to him, the nurse at the hotel told them, adding, in her briskly professional manner, that it would be no use to speak to him anyway, since he was delirious and recognized nobody. But before they went, softened by their real concern, she said, quite kindly, that as soon as the patient was able to receive visitors at all she would let them know. They thanked her and went out into the freezing air again. The snow had stopped and the wind had died down completely but in the atmosphere was a deadly chill, a biting cold that seemed to penetrate to their very marrow. "Suppose we go to the Salpers," Bob suggested. "Mrs. Salper and the girls may need help, for I imagine Mr. Salper isn't in a very pleasant mood." "I wonder," said Joe, as with common consent they turned in the direction of the Salper home, "if Mr. Salper has heard yet that even the radio is out of business." "Give it up," said Herb, while Jimmy added, with a grin: "I'd hate to be the one to break the news to him." But, as it happened, that was just what they had to do. They saw Mr. Salper coming and tried to pretend that they did not, but he would have none of it. He made for them directly, with a scowl on his face as fierce as if they had been the cause of all his trouble. "This is a fine business, isn't it?" he asked, waving his hand in the direction of the snow-weighted wires. "No telegraph, no telephone--only the radio left. I'm on my way to the station to try to get the message through, though that operator is a stubborn young donkey and has before this refused to send messages for me." Herb and Jimmy made frantic motions to Bob to keep quiet, for they saw that he was about to tell the news. And Bob did. "I'm sorry, Mr. Salper," he said quietly. "But the operator at the wireless station has become suddenly very ill and there's no one there to operate the apparatus." For a moment Mr. Salper simply glared while the news sank home. Then he gazed wildly about him as though to escape from his own worrisome thoughts. Then the fierce scowl returned to his face and he made an angry motion toward the boys. "The operator sick!" he muttered. "And not a doctor up here!" The boys started and looked at him queerly. "Do you need a doctor?" asked Bob quickly, thinking immediately of Mrs. Salper and the girls. "Is some one sick?" "Yes," snapped Mr. Salper. "My wife is sick, very sick. And if I can't get any sort of word through, even by radio----" He paused and his mouth looked as though he were grinding his teeth. He turned back toward his house, and the boys accompanied him with some vague idea of at least offering their sympathy, even if they could not do anything to help. They found Edna and Ruth nearly frantic with fright. "Mother is dreadfully ill," said Edna, between sobs. "Her hands and face are burning up and she talks queerly. I'm afraid it's pneumonia, and if she doesn't get a doctor pretty quick she'll d-die!" And with a sob she fled into the room where the sick woman lay. The boys felt awkward, and, since there was nothing they could do to help, deeply concerned over the trouble of these friends of theirs. "There's some good in Mr. Salper, anyway," said Joe, as they tramped along. "He was so worried over Mrs. Salper that he didn't mention those Wall Street scoundrels." "I reckon it's worrying him just the same," said Jimmy. "If only there was something we could do----" began Bob, then stopped short, a great idea leaping to his eyes. "Say, fellows, what's the matter with our sending that message?" CHAPTER XXII PUTTING IT THROUGH The boys stared at him for a moment as though he had gone suddenly crazy. Then the light of adventure dawned in their eyes, and they grinned joyously. "Say, old boy," said Joe in an awed voice, "that sure is some swell idea. But do you think we could swing it? We know a lot about receiving, but when it comes to sending----" "We're a bunch of nuts," finished Jimmy, decidedly. "Maybe," retorted Bob. "But at this time, even a bunch of nuts might be better than nothing." "We've been studying the code," said Joe thoughtfully. "We might be able to handle it all right. It isn't the first time, if we're not experts. Of course we can do it." "But not for old Salper," said Herb. "He's so impatient he'd make us forget in five minutes everything we ever knew." "Maybe," said Bob again, adding, stoutly: "But I'm game to make a try at it anyway. There's no one else to do it, and Mr. Salper stands to lose his wife and a lot of money besides if some one doesn't help him out." "Well, let's make him the proposition," suggested Joe, pausing and looking back at the Salper house. "I'm with Bob in this thing." "So say we all of us," sang Herb cheerily, as they turned back. "So long as Bob's the goat," finished Jimmy. They found Mr. Salper in the living room of the bungalow, savagely smoking a cigar. He scarcely looked at the boys when the girls let them in, and Bob was forced to speak his name before he gave them his attention. "Well, what is it?" he said gruffly, his tone adding plainly: "What are you doing here anyway? I wish you'd get out." The tone made Bob mad, as it did the other boys, and when he spoke his own tone was not as pleasant as usual. "We've decided to try to help you out, if we can, Mr. Salper," he said, and the man looked at him with a mixture of surprise and incredulity. "In what way?" he asked, in the same curt tone. "We know something about sending and receiving messages by radio," Bob went on, getting madder and madder. "And we thought maybe we might get a message through for you to a doctor and to your brokers, as well. Of course," he added, modestly, "we haven't had very much experience----" Bob was too modest to say anything about how he had once sent messages to some ships at sea, (as related in detail in "The Radio Boys at Ocean Point,") and how he had tried to send on other occasions. "Experience be hanged!" cried Mr. Salper, so suddenly that the boys jumped. "You mean to tell me you can operate that radio contraption?" "I think so," said Bob, still modestly. "We haven't done much along that end of it----" "You'll do," cried Mr. Salper, while Edna and Ruth stared at him with tear-reddened eyes. "Are you ready to go with me right away to the station?" The boys nodded and the older man shrugged into his great coat, reaching quickly for his cap. "Take care of your mother," he said to the girls. "I'll stop on my way over to the hotel and send a nurse over for her. I hear there are two of them there. Don't see why the physician there didn't send some one to take his place if he had to leave." In a moment the radio boys found themselves once more in the freezing air of the out-of-doors, being hurried along by the erratic Mr. Salper. Poor Jimmy suffered on that forced march. Although he uttered no word of protest, his face was purple and his breath came in little puffing gasps before they had reached the hotel. Once there, they had a little respite, however, while Mr. Salper went to arrange about having a nurse sent over to his wife. Jimmy waited in the hotel lobby in a state nearing collapse while the other boys went up to inquire once more about their friend, the operator. They found him no better--worse, if anything--and their faces were very solemn when they rejoined Jimmy in the lobby. "Guess it will be nip and tuck if he gets through at all," said Bob, anxiously. "I don't see why such hard luck had to pick him out for the victim." "I suppose they'll appoint another operator right away," suggested Herb. "I suppose so," agreed Jimmy. "But it will be hard to get any one for a week or more on account of the heavy weather." "And in a week's time without communication with the outside world a lot of Mr. Salper's money will probably have gone up in smoke," said Joe. "Yes, it's us on the job all right," said Bob, looking a bit worried. "I only hope we can live up to what's expected of us." "All right, boys," said Mr. Salper, on returning, in his eyes the preoccupied look of the man of affairs. "If you can help me out of this fix, I will surely be deeply in your debt." These genial words--almost the first that they had heard from the self-absorbed man--warmed the boys' hearts and they resolved to do the best they could for him, and, through him, for his daughters. When they reached the station they found it deserted save for one man who sat at a desk, humped over in a dispirited fashion, reading a magazine. At the entrance of Mr. Salper and the boys he looked up, then got up and came over to them as though he were glad of their companionship. "How do you do, Mr. Salper?" he said, addressing the older man with marked respect. "Is there anything I can do for you?" "Nothing, unless you can work this contrivance," returned Mr. Salper, with a comprehensive wave of his hand toward the cluttered radio table. "I'm sorry," said the other, a frown of anxiety lining his forehead. "The operator is sick, and because of the heavy weather it is doubtful if we shall be able to secure another one within the week." "A week!" cried Mr. Salper. "That amount of time, my friend, may very easily spell ruin for me. It is necessary that I communicate with New York immediately. Are you ready, boys?" The man looked with surprise, first at the radio boys and then back to Mr. Salper. "Am I to understand----" he began, when Mr. Salper cut him short with an imperative wave of the hand. "These boys," he said, "know something of radio. How much they know I am about to find out. "Are you ready?" he asked, sharply, as the boys still hesitated. "A delay of even a few minutes would be regrettable." The boys looked at each other, and since no one else made a move to approach the apparatus, Bob saw that it was up to him. And right there he realized the great difference that there is between theory and practice. Of course they had had some practice in sending and they were fairly familiar with the code, but never before had they been called upon to make use of their knowledge in such a matter as this. Then too, Mr. Salper was not the kind of person to inspire self-confidence. He was a driver, and it is hard to do good thinking when one is being driven. However, having gone so far, there was no possibility of backing out and with a show of confidence, Bob approached the apparatus. The man who had addressed Mr. Salper regarded him with not a little distrust. He had heard of the radio boys, as who at Mountain Pass had not, but he certainly did not think them competent to send a message of any importance. And at that moment, neither did Bob. "Will you send your message phone or code?" he asked, looking up at Mr. Salper inquiringly. "We can do either here." Mr. Salper hesitated for a moment, then with a significant glance at the other man, who was hovering curiously near, he snapped out, "Code." "Do you know the letters of the station to be called?" asked Bob. The broker consulted a notebook which he took from his pocket. "Call HRSA," he returned. "That is our Stock Exchange station," he explained. "They ought to be on the job while the Exchange is open. They will relay a message to my brokers." Joe was standing beside Bob and saw that his chum's hand trembled somewhat as he took hold of the ticker. "Don't get rattled, Bob," he whispered. "Take your time and don't let him scare you. Remember, it's you that's doing the favor." Bob grinned, and then began sending out the call. Across the ether traveled the letters HRSA and the call was presently caught up in New York and then another message was relayed to the office of a well-known brokerage firm. "Hey, Bill," called a well-dressed young man seated at a desk in the far end of the office. "Here's WBZA calling us. These are the letters of the station at Mountain Pass----" "Where the Honorable Mr. Gilbert Salper is taking his rest cure," finished another man, flinging away his cigarette and coming to stand beside his partner. "Do you suppose it's the old boy himself calling?" "We'll soon find out," returned the other, and without delay sent in a message to the New York sending station. In a few seconds they were being radioed into the ether. Bob's face beamed as he transcribed the dots and dashes into words. The message read thus: "WBZA heard from. HRSA awaiting message." Mr. Salper, who had been striding up and down, hurried to Bob's side in answer to the lad's hail. The other boys were peering eagerly over Bob's shoulder. "I've reached HRSA and through them H. & D.," explained the young operator proudly. "H. & D. are waiting for your message." "Fine! Fine!" cried Mr. Salper, and his face showed great enthusiasm. "Those are my brokers, Hanson and Debbs. Got 'em right off the reel, didn't you, boy? Great work! Can you get my message through at once?" "I don't know of anything to stop me," answered Bob. It seemed too good to be true that he had picked up the right station so quickly. "Send this, then," Mr. Salper directed. And in a firm hand he wrote down the following message: "Mohun is a crook and plots to ruin me. Find out his scheme and check him. Gilbert Salper." CHAPTER XXIII THE MIDNIGHT CALL Skillfully Bob tapped out the message and in an inconceivably small space of time it had been received by the station HRSA and relayed to H. & D. The boys would have been interested if they could have known the sensation caused by the few words. "Oh, boy!" cried Hanson, of the firm of Hanson and Debbs. "I've suspected this slick fellow Mohun for a long time. Now with Salper's authority we can go in and clean him out." "Salper wouldn't make an accusation of that sort," said Debbs thoughtfully, "if there wasn't something in it. He's had some sort of inside tip all right." "Well," returned the other briskly, "we'll let the old man know we're on the job, and then get busy." Accordingly, a few minutes later Bob received and transcribed this message: "Right. We'll have him inside of twenty-four hours." At the confidence contained in the message Mr. Salper straightened his shoulders as if a great load had been lifted from them and held out a friendly hand to Bob. "I can't tell you what you have done for me," he said, cordially. "Of course I'm not safe yet from the crooked work of these men, but at least Hanson and Debbs have been warned to look out. And that's two-thirds of the battle." "I'm mighty glad we've been able to help," said Bob, adding earnestly: "If there's anything else we can do please call on us. Mrs. Salper----" He paused, for at mention of his wife's name the relief disappeared from Mr. Salper's face and in its place was the old worried frown. "Yes--my wife," he muttered, and, without another word to the boys, turned and stalked out of the room. The man, who had all this time lingered near them, turned and went out after Mr. Salper and the boys were left alone. "Say, you sure did turn the trick that time," said Herb admiringly. "If they succeed in getting those crooks, Mr. Salper will love you all the rest of his life." "It was more luck than anything else," Bob repeated. "Imagine getting that station first throw out of the box." "Never mind," said Joe, adding truthfully: "No one else about this place would have been able to do as much." They lingered for a while, talking over the exciting events of the day and tinkering with the complicated apparatus. "Did you hear the latest prediction of Marconi?" asked Joe. "He says that he has positive proof that in the near future a radio set will be perfected which will send messages entirely around the world." "Yes," said Bob eagerly. "He even declares that we'll be able to put a sending and receiving set side by side on the same table and receive the messages that a moment before we've sent out." "It only takes a second of time too," said Herb. "Imagine sending messages completely around the world at such speed. If Marconi didn't say it could be done, I sure wouldn't believe it." "We'll be talking with Venus or Mars pretty soon," said Bob. "Marconi says he has already received messages that don't come from anywhere on the earth." Although they said little about it, the boys were elated at Bob's success with the code, and it was surely a pleasant thought that they had helped Mr. Salper, if only that they might make Mrs. Salper and the girls happy. They had even, despite his usual gruffness, begun to feel a sort of liking for Mr. Salper himself. During the long snow-bound afternoon they thought often of Mrs. Salper and wondered if she were better. They wanted to inquire, but they were afraid of making themselves a nuisance. Toward evening they strolled over to the hotel to ask after the operator and found to their delight that he was better. The nurse, who had become very friendly toward them, said she thought the trouble had been checked in time and that the sick man's recovery, though it might be slow, was sure. With hearts lightened on that score they went home. After dinner at the hotel they spent some time tinkering with their set. One time they noticed that in a vacuum tube was a pale blue glow, and Joe was at a loss to know how to account for it. "We've got too high a voltage on the B battery," said Bob, after a moment of study. "But how would that affect it?" asked Herb, interested. "Why," answered Bob, thoughtfully, "the high voltage causes a sort of electrical breakdown of the gas in the tube and it's apt to affect the receiving." "Say, Bob's getting to be a regular blue stocking," commented Jimmy admiringly. "We'll have to get a move on to catch up with him." "You bet _you_ will," said Herb, with insulting emphasis on the pronoun. However, Jimmy was too interested to notice. "Let's reduce the voltage, Bob," Joe was saying eagerly. "We'll test out the theory." "It isn't a theory," replied Bob, as he reduced the voltage and the blue glow disappeared as though by magic. "You can see for yourself that it's a fact." This discussion led to others, and they sat for some time eagerly experimenting with their set. It was just as well that they did for they had just gone over to their cottage and thus were able to answer quickly the imperative summons that came to them a few minutes later. In response to a knock on the door they found Mr. Salper standing outside in the bitter night air looking so white and shaken that they were startled. He came just inside the door and spoke in quick, jerky sentences like a man talking in his sleep. "My wife is dangerously ill," he said. "She seems so much worse tonight that there is imperative need of a doctor. There is no doctor up here, and in this weather it would take too long to summon one. The trained nurse who is with her suggests that we try to get in touch with a doctor by radio and ask his advice. The idea is far-fetched, but it seems about our only hope. If that fails----" he paused and Joe broke in eagerly. "My father's a doctor, Mr. Salper," he said, and there was pride in his voice. "A doctor, eh?" returned the broker quickly. "Oh, if only he were here!" "I don't see how you are going to get hold of your father," broke in Herb. "He's in Clintonia. Even if he got our message, through Doctor Dale or somebody else with a receiving set, he couldn't send any message here." "But he isn't in Clintonia!" shouted Joe, eagerly. "He went to Newark, New Jersey, to attend some sort of medical convention and see if he couldn't find out more about the epidemic that hit Clintonia." "Newark!" came simultaneously from Joe's chums. "Why, the big radio sending station is there!" exclaimed Bob. "Why can't you send a message to that station and ask them to get hold of your father?" broke in Jimmy. "Maybe I could do it," announced Joe. And then he looked at Bob. "Perhaps you had better do the sending. You'll probably have to call them in code." Bob was willing, but first he went up to tell his mother and father where he and his chums were going and beg them not to worry if they did not come back soon. On the way to the radio station they stopped at the Salper bungalow, where the calm-faced nurse was waiting for them. She had left the Salper girls in charge of their mother, giving them minute instructions as to what to do, and was going with Mr. Salper in the hope that they might possibly secure medical advice by radio. The station was finally reached. It looked deserted and gloomy at that hour of the night, and as Bob sent a call for help vibrating through the ether he felt a creepy sensation, as though he were, in some way, dealing with ghosts. There was just the slightest chance in the world that they would reach Doctor Atwood. Just a chance, but if they did not take that chance Mrs. Salper would die. For a long time they tried while the nurse sat quietly in the shadows and Mr. Salper strode up and down, up and down, his face drawn and white, his usually elastic step heavy and dragging. Again and again went out the call for the Newark station. Minute after minute passed, and still Mr. Salper walked up and down uneasily. "I guess you'll have to give it up----" Herb was beginning when suddenly Bob motioned for silence. The radio was speaking, and he was taking down the message as well as he was able. "I've got Newark!" the young operator cried excitedly. "Now I'll put in a call for your father, Joe. Where is he staying?" "At the Robert Treat Hotel." Once more Bob went to work rather excitedly and even a little clumsily, yet his message went through. In reply he received another, stating that Dr. Atwood had been called by telephone and would be at the sending station inside of fifteen minutes. "And the best of it is, he is to radiophone," added Bob to Joe. "So you can talk to him direct." After that the minutes passed slowly, both for Mr. Salper and the boys. They thought the end of the wait would never come. But at last the words so eagerly awaited reached them. There was no mistaking it, even though static interfered and the tuning was not good--Dr. Atwood's voice, cheery, reassuring, helpful. In his joy at the sound of it, Joe shouted aloud. "Hello, WBZA," came the voice. "If this is Joe talking, give me the high sign, my boy." During the message Bob had tuned in the right frequency and, with static eliminated one might have thought the speaker was in the same room. Then there followed a battle with death that the boys would remember as long as they lived. As soon as Doctor Atwood was made to understand the nature of the service asked of him, he became immediately his brisk, professional self. The nurse, instantly alert herself, gave him a description of the case and it was wonderful as soon as the connection was switched off to hear his kindly voice responding, giving full directions for the care of the patient. He declared that he would be on call all during the night and requested that some one call him every hour--oftener, if it became necessary--to report the progress of the patient. The nurse hurried off, accompanied by Mr. Salper, and for the rest of the night the boys kept busy, marking a trail between the Salper cottage and the radio station, taking reports from the nurse and carrying directions from Doctor Atwood. It seemed strange and weird, yet wonderful and soul-stirring, this tending of a patient by a doctor many miles away. Once, during the night, hope almost failed. Mrs. Salper scarcely breathed and lay so still that Edna and Ruth were sure the end had come. They clung to each other sobbing, while Mr. Salper strode up and down, up and down the room as though if he stopped he would die too. Then came another message from Doctor Atwood. The nurse followed his directions and once more hope came back to the Salper home. The patient rallied, stirred, and for that time at least, the danger was past. So dawn came at last and Joe and the two younger boys went back to their cottage to try to catch a few hours of sleep. Bob remained at the station, declaring that he felt not at all tired and as soon as the other boys had rested they could come to his relief. A hard vigil that for Bob. In spite of all he could do, his head would nod and his heavy eyelids close, to be jerked open next moment by the arrival of some one from the Salper home or a message from Doctor Atwood. News of the struggle had spread all over Mountain Pass, and people watched with admiration and interest the brave fight that was being made for a woman's life. And sometimes it seemed that, despite all their efforts, the struggle must end in failure. All that day the battle waged and the next night--the boys taking turns at the radio board, untiring in their determination not to lose. And Doctor Atwood was as determined as they. And then, on the morning of the second day came news that the patient had passed the much-dreaded crisis and, with the most careful nursing, was sure to recover. "She'll be all right now," came Doctor Atwood's cheery voice. "It's been a hard pull, but she's past the danger point now. Keep in touch with me, boys, so that, in case of a relapse, I can tell you what to do." Joe turned to the boys with the light of pride and affection in his eyes. "That's some dad I've got!" he said. Later, when the boys walked over to the Salper home to offer congratulations, the girls received them with literally open arms. "You've saved mother's life!" cried Ruth, with a catch in her voice. "And we love you for it!" added Edna gratefully. "You just wait till mother knows!" CHAPTER XXIV A PLOT THAT WENT WRONG "So far, so good," breathed Bob happily, as the boys were discussing the news that Mrs. Salper had passed the crisis and was now probably on the road to recovery. "That's one thing we can set down to the credit of radio." "And it's not the only thing of the same sort," put in Joe. "Do you remember what Mr. Brandon told us of that ship with thirty men and no doctor on board, where twenty-four of the men were down with a mysterious disease? The captain got a message by wireless to shore telling of his plight, and one of the best doctors in New York City went to the radio station there and got in touch with the captain. He talked to him by radio for hours, had him describe just the symptoms, and then told the captain just what to do. A couple of days later the captain wirelessed in that he had followed directions and that all of the men had recovered and were fit for duty." "Yes," said Herb, "and about that other case, too, where a man had an infected hand and they were afraid he was going to have lockjaw. A doctor on land told the captain how to treat it and the man got along all right." "Trust radio, and you won't go wrong," summed up Bob. "On land and sea it's right on the job." "I only hope it will be as effective in saving Mr. Salper's money," observed Joe. "I think very likely it will," replied Bob. "He's about as keen as they make them, and now that he knows what those rascals are plotting against him it's dollars to doughnuts that he'll get the best of them. Their only chance was in taking him by surprise and putting over that deal while his back was turned. And now that he's got in touch with his brokers I guess the game is up." "I wonder how long it will be before we know how it turned out," conjectured Herb. "Oh, probably not more than two or three days," replied Bob. "Things move pretty fast in Wall Street when a fight is on for control." "I hope he comes out on top," observed Joe. "He's a good deal of a crab, and I was mighty sore at him when he landed on us the way he did the day we were coming up here. Acted as though he thought we ought to be shot at sunrise. But since that time I've seen a good deal about him to like and I've come to the conclusion that he's a regular fellow after all." "You can tell by the fondness that the girls have for him that he can't be so bad," said Bob. "That's a pretty good sign to go by. They know him better than any one else except his wife, and she seems to think, too, that the sun rises and sets in him." "I want him to come out ahead not only for his own sake but because I want to see that fellow Mohun downed," put in Jimmy. "I'm sore at him right down to the ground. I don't like his eyes, I don't like his voice, I don't like his teeth, I don't like his character----" "Outside of that, though, I suppose he's all right," suggested Joe, grinning. "He seems to be just about as popular with you as a rattlesnake." "That's what he reminds me of, anyway," admitted Jimmy. "Talking of rattlesnakes," put in Herb, "here come three of them now," and he indicated Buck Looker, who, with Lutz and Mooney, was coming along the road. For some time now the Looker crowd had kept out of the radio boys' way. "I wonder what trick they're up to now," said Bob, as he saw that the bunch had their heads together in earnest conversation. "No knowing," answered Joe; "but it's a safe bet that it's something cheap and low down. Buck would think the day was wasted if he didn't have something of the kind on hand." The groups passed each other without speaking, though Buck darted a look at Bob in passing that had in it the usual malignance, mingled with a touch of triumph. "Did you see that look?" queried Herb, with interest. "Seemed as if he had something up his sleeve." "I know what it meant well enough," answered Bob, with a shade of soberness. "My dad was telling me that he'd been notified that a suit had been started against him and the fathers of you other fellows by Mr. Looker to recover the value of the cottage that he said we set on fire." "That's all bunk!" cried Herb indignantly. "He couldn't prove it in a hundred years. A lawsuit, eh? Huh!" "Dad doesn't think Looker has much of a case," replied Bob. "Still, he says that you can never tell what a man like Looker and the kind of lawyer he would hire may do. Of course we can't get away from the fact that we were in the house the day before it burned, and that looks bad. We know we didn't set it on fire, but nobody else knows we didn't. At any rate, even if Looker loses his case, our folks will have to hire lawyers and lose a lot of time in attending court, so that all in all it makes a pretty bad mess." "So that's what Buck was looking so tickled about!" exclaimed Joe. "I'd like to wipe that look off his face." "It might be a little satisfaction," laughed Bob. "But it wouldn't help us win the lawsuit." By this time their walk had taken them near the vicinity of the radio station; and as they approached it they caught sight of Mr. Salper pacing back and forth in a state of impatience. "Seems to be stirred up about something," remarked Joe. "Did you ever see him when he wasn't?" laughed Jimmy. At this moment Mr. Salper caught sight of the boys and came hastily toward them. "I want some messages sent and taken," he said, in his usual abrupt way, though there was none of the sharpness in his voice that had usually been in evidence when he spoke to them. "I wonder if you could do this for me," and his eyes rested inquiringly upon Bob. "I'll do my best, Mr. Salper," replied the latter, and the whole group went into the wireless room. "I suppose you have permission to use this plant?" came from Joe. "Oh, yes. If it hadn't been for that I couldn't have used it as I did those other times," answered the broker. Bob seated himself at the sending key and, following the financier's directions, got in touch with the Wall Street house that had figured in the previous communications. For an hour or more there was an interchange of messages that were mostly nonunderstandable to Bob and his friends who listened with the keenest interest. There was talk of stocks and bonds and of consolidations and controls and proxies and a host of other things that bore on financial deals. At the beginning, Mr. Salper sat with furrowed brows and an air of intense concentration. But as the answers came in to his various inquiries, his brow gradually cleared and he relaxed somewhat in his chair. Finally there came an answer that stirred him mightily. He jumped to his feet and slapped his thigh. "I've got him!" he cried jubilantly. "By Jove, I've got him!" CHAPTER XXV SOLVING THE MYSTERY Just whom Mr. Salper had got the radio boys could not tell with certainty, but they had a shrewd suspicion that Mohun was the hapless individual. The financier walked happily and springily about the office, chuckling to himself, and Jimmy declared afterward that if they had not been there he would have danced a jig. At last, when he had given sufficient vent to his elation, Mr. Salper turned to Bob. "I'm sure I can't tell you how I thank you," he declared, with a cordiality and heartiness that they had never yet seen in him. "This matter was one of the most important that has come to me in the whole course of my life. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were involved in it, and I'd surely have lost out if I hadn't had your services in this extremity. And now I'm going to prove my gratitude. A check--" "No, thank you, Mr. Salper," interrupted Bob hastily. "We don't want money for the service we've been to you. It's been exciting and interesting work for us, and I, at least, have been more than paid in the experience I've got through sending." "Well then I'm going to get you the finest radio set that money can buy," persisted Mr. Salper. "Not even that, thank you," returned Bob, smiling. "It's awfully good of you, and we appreciate it, but we've learned more of radio by building our own sets than we possibly could have done in any other way. If you want to send a check to the Red Cross or some other society of the kind, it would suit us better than anything else." "You're a stubborn young rascal," said Mr. Salper, with a smile, "and I suppose I'll have to let you have your way. But just bear in mind that you boys have a friend in me for life, and if I can ever be of service to any of you in business or anything else, let me know and I'll be only too glad to do it." He bade them good-by and went off briskly toward his bungalow to tell his family of the news that had lifted such a heavy burden from his brain and heart. The third day after the episode at the radio station the radio boys had gone further afield than usual and came upon a little shack that had evidently been used by workmen as a place for storing their tools. It was little more than a shed, and the boys, bestowing on it only a casual glance, had come nearly abreast of it when Bob, who was slightly in advance, heard a voice that he recognized as that of Buck Looker. He stopped dead in his tracks, and his companions did the same as he held up his hand in warning. "We certainly did put it over on those boobs all right," Buck was saying, and the remark was followed by laughs of satisfaction. "Yes, but we're not yet out of the woods," came the voice of Carl Lutz, with a touch of uneasiness in the tone. "Suppose when they put us on the stand to testify that we found Bob Layton and the other fellows in the cottage the evening before it burned, their lawyer asks us if we were in it too?" "Well, let them ask," replied Buck. "All we'll have to do is to deny it. We know they were in it. They don't know we were in it. Who knows that we slipped in later and sat there until nearly midnight smoking cigarettes?" With a bound Bob was at the door of the shack. "I know it!" he cried. "I didn't know it till just this minute, but now I know it by your own confession." "We all heard it," echoed Joe, as he, with Herb and Jimmy, followed Bob into the shack. Consternation and conscious guilt was written on every one of the three faces. Buck was the first of the cronies to recover some measure of self-possession. "Think you've put something over, don't you?" he sneered. "Well, you've got another think coming to you. This won't do you a bit of good in court. I'll simply swear that I didn't say anything of the kind and that you've made up the story out of whole cloth. It'll be simply my word against yours, and you'd be interested witnesses trying to help your fathers out by cooking up this story. So what are you going to do about it?" "I'll show you what we're going to do about it!" cried Joe, starting forward. But Bob stopped him. "Wait a minute, Joe," he said. Then he turned to Buck. "Do you mean to say," he demanded, "that you'd take a solemn oath in court to tell the truth, and then go on the stand and swear to a downright lie?" The contempt in his tone stung Buck into fury. "You can put it any way you like," he shouted. "I'm simply not going to let you get the best of me. Who cares for the old confession as you call it? You can have as many of those as you like and it won't do you any good. Here's another one now for good measure. We were in the house late that night. We were smoking cigarettes. Probably that's what caused the fire to break out later. I tell you these things just because it won't do you any good. In court I'll deny that I ever said them. You'll say I did. But the court will know that you have as much interest in lying as I have, and it'll just be a standoff. You'd have to have a disinterested witness, and that you haven't got." "Oh, yes, they have," came a voice from the doorway, and Mr. Salper stepped into the shack. An exclamation of delight broke from the lips of the radio boys, while Buck and his cronies slunk back in terror and confusion. "I was out taking a stroll," explained Mr. Salper, "and as I heard loud voices coming from the shack I stepped up to see what was the matter. I was just in time to hear the full confession of this estimable young man"--here he turned a withering glance on Buck--"and while I'm here, I guess I'll take it down." He drew from his pocket a notebook and a fountain pen and wrote rapidly, while Buck and his companions looked at each other like so many trapped animals. In a few minutes Mr. Salper had finished. Then he read in a clear voice just what he had written. It was a complete confession similar to that which Buck had made, with date and place affixed. He handed this over to Buck with the fountain pen, with a crisp demand that he sign it. Buck hesitated as long as he dared, but with those keen eyes used to command fixed upon him from beneath Mr. Salper's beetling brows, he finally signed his name, and Lutz and Mooney shamefacedly followed suit. "I guess that will settle the law case," Mr. Salper remarked, with a smile, as he handed the precious document to Bob, who folded it carefully and put it in his breast pocket. "Now perhaps we would better go and leave these worthy young gentlemen to their meditations. I don't think they'll be especially pleasant ones." The radio boys left the shack, followed by the black looks of the discomfited conspirators. "You certainly came along in the nick of time, Mr. Salper," said Bob. "We're very grateful to you." "I'm glad if I've been able to be of service to you," replied Mr. Salper. "It's only paying back in small measure what you've done for me. The bulk of the obligation is still on my side." It was a happy group of radio boys that returned to the Mountain Rest Hotel that afternoon. "Adventures have surely crowded in on us lately," remarked Bob. "More than they ever will again," prophesied Joe. But that he had not foretold the future correctly will be seen by those who read the following volume of this series, entitled: "The Radio Boys Trailing a Voice; Or, Solving a Wireless Mystery." That very night they sent the news of the confession to Dr. Atwood with the request that he would communicate the tidings to the fathers of the rest of the boys. The lawsuit, of course, was dropped at once, and Buck and his cronies slunk home in disgrace. "Radio is lots of work, but it's also lots of fun," remarked Joe that night, as they sat late reviewing the events of the day. "Radio," repeated Bob. "It's more than fun. It's excitement. It's romance. It's adventure. It's life!" THE END _This Isn't All!_ Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book? Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author? On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book. _Don't throw away the Wrapper_ _Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog._ THE RADIO BOYS SERIES (Trademark Registered) By ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of the "Railroad Series," Etc. Individual Colored Wrappers. Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself. A new series for boys giving full details of radio work, both in sending and receiving--telling how small and large amateur sets can be made and operated, and how some boys got a lot of fun and adventure out of what they did. Each volume from first to last is so thoroughly fascinating, so strictly up-to-date and accurate, we feel sure all lads will peruse them with great delight. Each volume has a Foreword by Jack Binns, the well-known radio expert. THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FOREST RANGERS THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE ICEBERG PATROL THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FLOOD FIGHTERS THE RADIO BOYS ON SIGNAL ISLAND THE RADIO BOYS IN GOLD VALLEY GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK THE DON STURDY SERIES By VICTOR APPLETON Individual Colored Wrappers and Text Illustrations by WALTER S. ROGERS Every Volume Complete in Itself. In company with his uncles, one a mighty hunter and the other a noted scientist, Don Sturdy travels far and wide, gaining much useful knowledge and meeting many thrilling adventures. DON STURDY ON THE DESERT OF MYSTERY; An engrossing tale of the Sahara Desert, of encounters with wild animals and crafty Arabs. DON STURDY WITH THE BIG SNAKE HUNTERS; Don's uncle, the hunter, took an order for some of the biggest snakes to be found in South America--to be delivered alive! DON STURDY IN THE TOMBS OF GOLD; A fascinating tale of exploration and adventure in the Valley of Kings in Egypt. DON STURDY ACROSS THE NORTH POLE; A great polar blizzard nearly wrecks the airship of the explorers. DON STURDY IN THE LAND OF VOLCANOES; An absorbing tale of adventures among the volcanoes of Alaska. DON STURDY IN THE PORT OF LOST SHIPS; This story is just full of exciting and fearful experiences on the sea. DON STURDY AMONG THE GORILLAS; A thrilling story of adventure in darkest Africa. Don is carried over a mighty waterfall into the heart of gorilla land. GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK THE TOM SWIFT SERIES By VICTOR APPLETON Uniform Style of Binding. Individual Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading. TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL TOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANK TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCH TOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVE TOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT OIL GUSHER TOM SWIFT AND HIS CHEST OF SECRETS TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRLINE EXPRESS Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York THE RIDDLE CLUB BOOKS By ALICE DALE HARDY Individual Colored Wrappers. Attractively Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Here is as ingenious a series of books for little folks as has ever appeared since "Alice in Wonderland." The idea of the Riddle books is a little group of children--three girls and three boys decide to form a riddle club. Each book is full of the adventures and doings of these six youngsters, but as an added attraction each book is filled with a lot of the best riddles you ever heard. THE RIDDLE CLUB AT HOME An absorbing tale that all boys and girls will enjoy reading. How the members of the club fixed up a clubroom in the Larue barn, and how they, later on, helped solve a most mysterious happening, and how one of the members won a valuable prize, is told in a manner to please every young reader. THE RIDDLE CLUB IN CAMP The club members went into camp on the edge of a beautiful lake. Here they had rousing good times swimming, boating and around the campfire. They fell in with a mysterious old man known as The Hermit of Triangle Island. Nobody knew his real name or where he came from until the propounding of a riddle solved these perplexing questions. THE RIDDLE CLUB THROUGH THE HOLIDAYS This volume takes in a great number of winter sports, including skating and sledding and the building of a huge snowman. It also gives the particulars of how the club treasurer lost the dues entrusted to his care and what the melting of the great snowman revealed. THE RIDDLE CLUB AT SUNRISE BEACH This volume tells how the club journeyed to the seashore and how they not only kept up their riddles but likewise had good times on the sand and on the water. Once they got lost in a fog and are marooned on an island. Here they made a discovery that greatly pleased the folks at home. GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK FOOTBALL AND BASEBALL STORIES Durably Bound. Illustrated. Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. The Ralph Henry Barbour Books for Boys In these up-to-the-minute, spirited genuine stories of boy life there is something which will appeal to every boy with the love of manliness, cleanness and sportsmanship in his heart. LEFT END EDWARDS LEFT TACKLE THAYER LEFT GUARD GILBERT CENTER RUSH ROWLAND FULLBACK FOSTER LEFT HALF HARMON RIGHT END EMERSON RIGHT GUARD GRANT QUARTERBACK BATES RIGHT TACKLE TODD RIGHT HALF HOLLINS The Christy Mathewson Books for Boys Every boy wants to know how to play ball in the fairest and squarest way. These books about boys and baseball are full of wholesome and manly interest and information. PITCHER POLLOCK CATCHER CRAIG FIRST BASE FAULKNER SECOND BASE SLOAN PITCHING IN A PINCH THIRD BASE THATCHER, By Everett Scott GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK 
39262	----	BERT WILSON, Wireless Operator BY J. W. DUFFIELD AUTHOR OF "BERT WILSON AT THE WHEEL," "BERT WILSON, MARATHON WINNER," "BERT WILSON'S FADEAWAY BALL" Copyright, 1913, By SULLY AND KLEINTEICH _All rights reserved._ Published and Printed, 1924, by Western Printing & Lithographing Company Racine, Wisconsin Printed in U. S. A. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. RUNNING AMUCK 1 II. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 14 III. A STARTLING MESSAGE 26 IV. THE FLAMING SHIP 38 V. AN ISLAND PARADISE 56 VI. THE "GRAY GHOST" 70 VII. A SWIM FOR LIFE 79 VIII. THE CAPTURED SHARK 90 IX. IN THE HEART OF THE TYPHOON 99 X. THE DERELICT 111 XI. THE TIGER AT BAY 124 XII. AMONG THE CANNIBALS 141 XIII. THE HUNTING WOLVES 159 XIV. THE LAND OF SURPRISES 179 XV. THE DRAGON'S CLAWS 195 XVI. THE PIRATE ATTACK 211 BERT WILSON, WIRELESS OPERATOR CHAPTER I RUNNING AMUCK "Amuck! Amuck! He's running amuck! Quick! For your lives!" The drowsy water front pulsed into sudden life. There was a sound of running feet, of hoarse yells, a shriek of pain and terror as a knife bit into flesh, and a lithe, brown figure leaped upon the steamer's rail. It was a frightful picture he presented, as he stood there, holding to a stanchion with one hand, while, in the other, he held a crooked dagger whose point was stained an ominous red. He was small and wiry, only a little over five feet in height, but strong and quick as a panther. His black hair, glossy with cocoa oil, streamed in the wind, his eyes were lurid with the wild light of insanity, his lips were parted in a savage snarl, and he was foaming at the mouth. He had lost all semblance of humanity, and as he stood there looking for another victim, he might have been transported bodily from one of Doré's pictures of Dante's Inferno. Suddenly, he caught sight of a group of three coming down the pier, and leaping to the wharf, he started toward them, his bare feet padding along noiselessly, while he tightened his grip on the murderous knife. A shot rang out behind him but missed him, and he kept on steadily, drawing nearer and nearer to his intended prey. The three companions, toward whom doom was coming so swiftly and fearfully, were now halfway down the pier. They were typical young Americans, tall, clean cut, well knit, and with that easy swing and carriage that marks the athlete and bespeaks splendid physical condition. They had been laughing and jesting and were evidently on excellent terms with life. Their eyes were bright, their faces tinged with the bronzed red of perfect health, the blood ran warmly through their veins, and it seemed a bitter jest of fate that over them, of all men, should be flung the sinister shadow of death. Yet never in all their life had they been so near to it as on that sleepy summer afternoon on that San Francisco wharf. At the sound of the shot they looked up curiously. And then they saw. By this time the Malay was not more than fifty feet away. He was running as a mad dog runs, his head shaking from side to side, his kriss brandished aloft, his burning eyes fixed on the central figure of the three. He expected to die, was eager to die, but first he wanted to kill. The dreadful madness peculiar to the Malay race had come upon him, and the savage instincts that slumbered in him were now at flood. He had made all his preparations for death, had prayed to his deities, blackened his teeth as a sign of his intention, and devoted himself to the infernal gods. Then by the use of maddening drugs he had worked himself into a state of wild delirium and started forth to slay. They had sought to stop him as he rushed out from the cook's galley, but he had slashed wildly right and left and one of them had been left dangerously wounded on the steamer's deck. The captain and mates had rushed to their cabins to get their revolvers, and it was the shot from one of these that had tried vainly to halt him in his death dealing course. The crew, unarmed, had sought refuge where they could, and now, with his thirst for blood still unslaked, he rushed toward the unsuspecting strangers. For one awful instant their hearts stood still as they caught sight of the fiendish figure bearing down upon them. None of them had a weapon. They had never dreamed of needing one. Their stout hearts and, at need, their fists, had always proved sufficient, and they shared the healthy American repugnance at relying on anything else than nature had given them. There was no way to evade the issue. Had they turned, the madman, with the impetus he already had, would have been upon them before they could get under way. There was no alternative. They _must_ play with that grim gambler, Death, with their lives as the stakes. And at the thought, they stiffened. The Malay was within ten feet. Quick as a flash, the taller of the three dove straight for the madman's legs. The latter made a wicked slash downward, but his arm was caught in a grip of iron, and the next instant the would-be murderer was thrown headlong to the pier, his knife clattering harmlessly to one side. The three were on him at once, and, though he fought like a wildcat, they held him until the crowd, bold now that the danger was past, swarmed down on the wharf and trussed him securely with ropes. Then the trio rose, shook themselves and looked at each other. "By Jove, Bert," said the one who had grasped the Malay's arm as it was upraised to strike, "that was the dandiest tackle I ever saw, and I've seen you make a good many. If you'd done that in a football game on Thanksgiving day, they'd talk of it from one end of the country to the other." "O, I don't know, Dick," responded Bert. "Perhaps it wasn't so bad, but then, you know, I never had so much at stake before. Even at that I guess it would have been all up with me, if you hadn't grabbed that fellow's hand just at the minute you did." "If I hadn't, Tom would," rejoined Dick lightly. "He went for it at the same instant, but I was on the side of the knife hand and so got there first. But it was a fearfully close shave," he went on soberly, "and I for one have had enough of crazy Malays to last me a lifetime." "Amen to that," chimed in Tom, fervently, "a little of that sort of thing goes a great way. If this is a sample of what we're going to meet, there won't be much monotony on this trip." "Well, no," laughed Bert, "not so that you could notice it. Still, when you tackle the Pacific Ocean, you're going to find it a different proposition from sailing on a mill pond, and I shouldn't be surprised if we found action enough to keep our joints from getting rusty before we get back." The crowd that had seemed to come from everywhere were loud in their commendation of the boys' courage and presence of mind. Soon, an ambulance that had been hastily summoned rattled up to the pier, at top speed, and took charge of the wounded sailor, while a patrol wagon carried the maniac to the city prison. The throng melted away as rapidly as it had gathered, and the three chums mounted the gangway of the steamer. A tall, broad shouldered man in a captain's uniform advanced to greet them. "That was one of the pluckiest things I ever saw," he said warmly, as he grasped their hands. "You were lucky to come out of that scrape alive. Those Malays are holy terrors when they once get started. I've seen them running amuck in Singapore and Penang before now, but never yet on this side of the big pond. That fellow has been sullen and moody for days, but I've been so busy getting ready to sail that I didn't give it a second thought. I had a bead drawn on the beggar when he was making toward you, but didn't dare to fire for fear of hitting one of you. But all's well that ends well, and I'm glad you came through it without a scratch. You were coming toward the ship," he went on, as he looked at them inquiringly, "and I take it that your business was with me." "Yes, sir," answered Bert, acting as spokesman. "My name is Wilson, and these are my two friends, Mr. Trent and Mr. Henderson." "Wilson," repeated the captain in pleased surprise. "Why, not the wireless operator that the company told me they had engaged to make this trip?" "The same," replied Bert, smiling. "Well, well," said the captain, "I'm doubly glad to meet you, although I had no idea that our first meeting would take place under such exciting circumstances. You can't complain that we didn't give you a warm reception," he laughed. "Come along, and I'll show you your quarters and introduce you to the other officers." Had any one told Bert Wilson, a month earlier, that on this June day he would be the wireless operator of the good ship "_Fearless_," Abel Manning, Captain, engaged in the China trade, he would have regarded it as a joke or a dream. He had just finished his Freshman year in College. It had been a momentous year for him in more ways than one. He had won distinction in his studies--a matter of some satisfaction to his teachers. But he had been still more prominent on the college diamond--a matter of more satisfaction to his fellow students. He had just emerged from a heart breaking contest, in which his masterly twirling had won the pennant for his Alma Mater, and incidentally placed him in the very front rank of college pitchers. His plans for the summer vacation were slowly taking shape, when, one day, he was summoned to the office of the Dean. "Sit down, Wilson," he said, as he looked up from some papers, "I'll be at liberty in a moment." For a few minutes he wrote busily, and then whirled about in his office chair and faced Bert, pleasantly. "What are your plans for the summer, Wilson?" he asked. "Have you anything definite as yet?" "Not exactly, sir," answered Bert. "I've had several invitations to spend part of the time with friends, but, as perhaps you know, I haven't any too much money, and I want to earn some during the vacation, to help me cover my expenses for next year. I've written to my Congressman at Washington to try to get me work in one of the wireless stations on the coast, but there seems to be so much delay and red tape about it that I don't know whether it will amount to anything. If that doesn't develop, I'll try something else." "Hum," said the Dean, as he turned to his desk and took a letter from a pigeon hole. "Now I have here a line from Mr. Quinby, the manager of a big fleet of steamers plying between San Francisco and the chief ports of China. It seems that one of his vessels, the _Fearless_, needs a good wireless operator. The last one was careless and incompetent, and the line had to let him go. Mr. Quinby is an old grad of the college, and an intimate personal friend of mine. He knows the thoroughness of our scientific course"--here a note of pride crept into the Dean's voice--"and he writes to know if I can recommend one of our boys for the place. The voyage will take between two and three months, so that you can be back by the time that college opens in the Fall. The pay is good and you will have a chance to see something of the world. How would you like the position?" How would he like it? Bert's head was in a whirl. He had always wanted to travel, but it had seemed like an "iridescent dream," to be realized, if at all, in the far distant future. Now it was suddenly made a splendid possibility. China and the islands of the sea, the lands of fruits and flowers, of lotus and palm, of minarets and pagodas, of glorious dawns and glittering noons and spangled nights! The East rose before him, with its inscrutable wisdom, its passionless repose, its heavy-lidded calm. It lured him with its potency and mystery, its witchery and beauty. Would he go! He roused himself with an effort and saw the Dean regarding him with a quizzical smile. "Like it," he said enthusiastically, "there's nothing in all the world I should like so well. That is," he added, "if you are sure I can do the work. You know of course that I've had no practical experience." "Yes," said the Dean, "but I've already had a talk with your Professor of Applied Electricity, and he says that there isn't a thing about wireless telegraphy that you don't understand. He tells me that you are equally familiar with the Morse and the Continental codes, and that you are quicker to detect and remedy a defect than any boy in your class. From theory to practice will not be far, and he is confident that before your ship clears the Golden Gate you'll know every secret of its wireless equipment from A to Z. I don't mind telling you that your name was the first one that occurred to both him and myself, as soon as the matter was broached. Mr. Quinby has left the whole thing to me, so that, if you wish to go, we'll consider the matter settled, and I'll send him a wire at once." "I'll go," said Bert, "and glad of the chance. I can't thank you enough for your kindness and confidence, but I'll do my very best to deserve it." "I'm sure of that," was the genial response, and, after a few more details of time and place had been settled, Bert took the extended hand of the Dean and left the office, feeling as though he were walking on air. His first impulse was to hunt up his two chums, Tom and Dick, and tell them of his good fortune. Tom was a fellow classmate, while Dick had had one year more of college life. The bond that united them was no common one, and had been cemented by a number of experiences shared together for several years back. More than once they had faced serious injury or possible death together, in their many scrapes and adventures, and the way they had backed each other up had convinced each that he had in the others comrades staunch and true. During the present year, they had all been members of the baseball team, Tom holding down third base in dashing style and Dick starring at first; and many a time the three had pulled games out of the fire and wrested victory from defeat. In work and fun they were inseparable; and straight to them now Bert went, flushed and elated with the good luck that had befallen him. "Bully for you, old man," shouted Dick, while Tom grabbed his hand and clapped him on the back; "It's the finest thing that ever happened." "It sure is," echoed Tom. "Just think of good old Bert among the Chinks. _And_ the tea houses--_and_ the tomtoms--_and_ the bazaars--_and_ the jinrikishas--and all the rest. By the time he gets back, he'll have almond eyes and a pig-tail and be eating his rice with chop sticks." "Not quite as bad as that, I hope," laughed Bert. "I've no ambition to be anything else than a good American, and probably all I'll see abroad will only make me the more glad to see the Stars and Stripes again when I get back to 'God's country.' But it surely will be some experience." Now that the first excitement was over, the conversation lagged a little, and a slight sense of constraint fell upon them. All were thinking of the same thing. Tom was the first to voice the common thought. "Gee, Bert," he said, "how I wish that Dick and I were coming along!" "Why not?" asked Dick, calmly. Bert and Tom looked at him in amazement. "What!" yelled Bert. "You don't really think there's a chance?" "A chance? Yes," answered Dick. "Of course it's nothing but a chance--as yet. The whole thing is so sudden and there are so many things to be taken into account that it can't be doped out all at once. It may prove only a pipe dream after all. But Father promised me a trip abroad at the end of my course, if I got through all right, and, under the circumstances, he may be willing to anticipate a little. Then too, you know, he's a red-hot baseball fan, and he's tickled to death at the way we trimmed the other teams this year. And we all know that Tom's folks have money to burn, and it ought to be no trick at all for him to get their consent. I tell you what, fellows, let's get busy with the home people, right on the jump." And get busy they did, with the result that after a great deal of humming and hawing and backing and filling, the longed for consents were more or less reluctantly given. The boys' delight knew no bounds, and it was a hilarious group that made things hum on the Overland Limited, as it climbed the Rockies and dropped down the western slope to the ocean. The world smiled upon them. Life ran riot within them. They had no inkling of how closely death would graze them before they even set foot upon their ship. Nor did they dream of the perils that awaited them, in days not far distant when that ship, passing through the Golden Gate, should turn its prow toward the East and breast the billows of the Pacific. CHAPTER II AN UNEXPECTED MEETING The "Fearless" was a smart, staunch ship of about three thousand tons--one of a numerous fleet owned by the line of which Mr. Quinby was the manager. She had been built with special reference to the China trade, and was designed chiefly for cargoes, although she had accommodations for a considerable number of passengers. She was equipped with the latest type of modern screw engines, and although she did not run on a fixed schedule, could be counted on, almost as certainly as a regular liner, to make her port at the time appointed. Everything about the steamer was seamanlike and shipshape, and the boys were most favorably impressed, as, under the guidance of Captain Manning, they made their way forward. Here they were introduced to the first and second officers, and then shown to the quarters they were to occupy during the voyage. Like everything else about the ship, these were trim and comfortable, and the boys were delighted to find that they had been assigned adjoining rooms. By the time they had washed and changed their clothes, it was time for supper, and to this they did ample justice. They were valiant trenchermen, and even the narrow escape of the afternoon had not robbed them of their appetites. "You'd better eat while you can, fellows," laughed Bert. "We sail to-morrow, and twenty-four hours from now, you may be thinking so little of food that you'll be giving it all to the fishes." "Don't you worry," retorted Dick, "I've trolled for bluefish off the Long Island coast in half a gale, and never been seasick yet." "Yes," said Bert, "but scudding along in a catboat is a different thing from rising and falling on the long ocean swells. We haven't any swinging cabins here to keep things always level, and the ship isn't long enough to cut through three waves at once like the big Atlantic liners." "Well," said Tom, "if we do have to pay tribute to Neptune, I hope we won't be so badly off as the poor fellow who, the first hour, was afraid he was going to die, and, the second hour, was afraid he couldn't die." "Don't fret about dying, boys," put in the ship's doctor, a jolly little man, with a paunch that denoted a love of good living; "You fellows are so lucky that they couldn't kill you with an axe. Though that knife did come pretty near doing the trick, didn't it? 'The sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, looking after the life of poor Jack,' was certainly working overtime, when that Malay went for you to-day." "Yes," returned Dick, "but he slipped a cog in not looking after the poor fellow that brute wounded first. By the way, doctor, how is he? Will he live?" "O, he'll pull through all right," answered the doctor. "I gave his wound the first rough dressing before the ambulance took him away. Luckily, the blade missed any of the vital organs, and a couple of months in the hospital will bring him around all right. That is, unless the knife was poisoned. These beggars sometimes do this, in order to make assurance doubly sure. I picked up the knife as it lay on the pier, and will turn it over to the authorities to-morrow. They'll have to use it in evidence, when the case comes up for trial." He reached into his breast pocket as he spoke and brought out the murderous weapon. The boys shuddered as they looked at it and realized how near they had come to being its victims. They handled it gingerly as they passed it around, being very careful to avoid even a scratch, in view of what the doctor had said about the possibility of it being poisoned. It was nearly a foot in length, with a massive handle that gave it a secure grip as well as additional force behind the stroke. The hilt was engraved with curious characters, probably an invocation to one of the malignant gods to whom it was consecrated. The blade was broad, with the edge of a razor and the point of a needle. But what gave it a peculiarly deadly and sinister significance was the wavy, crooked lines followed by the steel, and which indicated the hideous wounds it was capable of inflicting. "Nice little toy, isn't it?" asked the doctor. "It certainly is," replied Bert. "A bowie knife is innocent, compared with this." "What on earth is it," asked Dick, "that makes these fellows so crazy to kill those that have never done them an injury and that they have never even seen? I can understand how the desire for revenge may prompt a man to go to such lengths to get even with an enemy, but why they attack every one without distinction is beyond me." "Well," replied the doctor, "it's something with which reason has nothing to do. The Malays are a bloodthirsty, merciless race. They brood and sulk, until, like that old Roman emperor--Caligula, wasn't it?--they wish that the human race had only one neck, so that they could sever it with a single blow. They are sick of life and determine to end it all, but before they go, all the pent up poison of hate that has been fermenting in them finds expression in the desire to take as many as possible with them. Then too, there may be some obscure religious idea underneath it all, of offering to the gods as many victims as possible, and thus winning favor for themselves. Or, like the savage despots of Africa, who decree that when they are buried hundreds of their subjects shall be slaughtered and buried in the same grave, they may feel that their victims will have to serve them in the future world. Scientists have never analyzed the matter satisfactorily." "Well," said Dick, as they rose from the table, "one doesn't have to be a scientist to know this much at least--that wherever a crazy Malay happens to be, it's a mighty healthy thing to be somewhere else." "I guess nobody aboard this steamer would be inclined to dispute that," laughed the doctor, as they separated and went on deck. Although his duties did not begin until the following day, Bert was eager beyond anything else to inspect the wireless equipment of the ship, and went at once to the wireless room, followed by the others. It was with immense satisfaction that he established that here he had under his hand the very latest in wireless telegraphy. From the spark key to the antennae, waving from the highest mast of the ship, everything was of the most approved and up to date type. No matter how skilful the workman, he is crippled by lack of proper tools; and Bert's heart exulted as he realized that, in this respect, at least he had no reason for complaint. "It's a dandy plant, fellows," he gloated. "There aren't many Atlantic liners have anything on this." "How far can she talk, Bert?" asked Dick, examining the apparatus with the keenest interest. "That depends on the weather, very largely," answered Bert. "Under almost any conditions she's good for five hundred miles, and when things are just right, two or three times as far." "What's the limit, anyway, Bert?" asked Tom. "How far have they been able to send under the very best conditions?" "I don't believe there is any real limit," answered Bert. "I haven't any doubt that, before many years, they'll be able to talk half way round the world. Puck, you know, in the 'Midsummer Night's Dream' boasted that he would 'put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes.' Well, the wireless will go him one better, and go round in less than forty seconds. Why, only the other day at Washington, when the weather conditions were just right, the officials there heard two stations talking to each other, off the coast of Chili, six or seven thousand miles away. Of course, ships will never talk at that distance, because they can't get a high enough mast or tower to overcome the curvature of the earth. But from land stations it is only a question of getting a high enough tower. They can talk easily now from Berlin to Sayville, Long Island, four thousand miles, by means of towers seven or eight hundred feet high. The Eiffel Tower at Paris, because still higher, has a longer range. It isn't so very long ago that they were glad enough to talk across a little creek or canal, a few feet wide. Then they tried an island, three or four miles away, then another, fourteen miles from the mainland. By the time they had done that, they knew that they had the right principle, and that it was only a matter of time before they'd bind the ends of the earth together. It started as a creeping infant; now, it's a giant, going round the world in its seven league boots." "Hear hear," cried Dick, "how eloquent Bert is getting. He'll be dropping into poetry next." "Well," chipped in Tom, "there _is_ poetry sure enough in the crash of the spark and its leap out into the dark over the tumbling waves from one continent to another, but, to me, it's more like witchcraft. It's lucky Marconi didn't live two or three hundred years ago. He'd surely have been burned at the stake, for dabbling in black magic." "Yes," rejoined Bert, "and Edison and Tesla would have kept him company. But now clear out, you fellows, and let me play with this toy of mine. I want to get next to all its quips and quirks and cranks and curves, and I can't do it with you dubs talking of poets and witches. Skip, now," and he laughingly shooed them on deck. Left to himself, he went carefully over every detail of the equipment. Everything--detector, transmitter, tuning coil and all the other parts--were subjected to the most minute and critical inspection, and all stood the test royally. It was evident that no niggardly consideration of expense had prevented the installation of the latest and best materials. Bert's touch was almost caressing, as he handled the various parts, and his heart thrilled with a certain sense of ownership. There had been a wireless plant at one of the college buildings, and he had become very expert in its use; but hundreds of others had used it, too, and he was only one among many. Moreover, that plant had filled no part in the great world of commerce or of life, except for purposes of instruction. But this was the real thing, and from the time the steamer left the wharf until, on its return, it again swung into moorings, he would be in complete control. How many times along the invisible current would he feel the pulsing of the world's heart; what messages of joy or pain or peril would go from him or come to him, as he sat with his finger on the key and the receiver at his ear! He stood on the threshold of a new world, and it was a long time before he tore himself away, and went to rejoin his friends on the upper deck. A young man, whose figure had something familiar about it was pacing to and fro. Bert cudgeled his memory. Of whom did it remind him? The young man turned and their eyes met. There was a start of recognition. "Why, this must be Bert Wilson," said the newcomer, extending his hand. "Yes," replied Bert, grasping it warmly, "and you are Ralph Quinby or his double." "Quinby, sure enough," laughed Ralph, "and delighted to see you again. But what on earth brings you here, three thousand miles from home?" "I expect to be twelve thousand miles from home before I get through," answered Bert; and then he told him of his engagement as wireless operator for the voyage. "That's splendid," said Ralph, heartily. "We'll have no end of fun. I was just feeling a bit down in the mouth, because I didn't know a soul on board except the captain. You see, my father is manager of the line, and he wanted me to take the trip, so that I could enlarge my experience and be fit to step into his shoes when he gets ready to retire. So that, in a way, it's a pleasure and business trip combined." "Here are some other fellows you know," remarked Bert, as he beckoned to Tom and Dick who came over from the rail. They needed no introduction. A flood of memories swept over them as they shook hands. They saw again the automobile race, when Ralph in the "_Gray Ghost_" and Bert at the wheel of the "_Red Scout_" had struggled for the mastery. Before their eyes rose the crowded stands; they heard the deafening cheers and the roar of the exhausts; they saw again that last desperate spurt, when, with the throttle wide open, the "Red Scout" had challenged its gallant enemy in the stretch and flashed over the line, a winner. That Ralph remembered it too was evident from the merry twinkle in his eyes, as he looked from one to the other of the group. "You made me take your dust that day, all right," he said, "but I've never felt sore over that for a minute. It was a fair and square race, and the best car and the best driver won." "Not on your life," interjected Bert, warmly. "The best car, perhaps, but not the best driver. You got every ounce of speed out of your machine that anyone could, and after all it was only a matter of inches at the finish." "Well, it was dandy sport, anyway, win or lose," returned Ralph. "By the way, I have the 'Gray Ghost' with me now. It's crated up on the forward deck, and will be put down in the hold to-morrow. So come along now, and take a look at it." There, sure enough, was the long, powerful, gray car, looking "fit to run for a man's life," as Ralph declared, while he patted it affectionately. "I thought I'd bring it along," he said, "to use while we are in port at our various stopping places. It will take a good many days to unload, and then ship our return cargo, and, if the roads are good, we'll show the natives some new wrinkles in the way of fancy driving. We're all of us auto fiends, and I want you to feel that the car is as much yours as mine, all through the trip. That is," he added, mischievously, "if you fellows don't feel too haughty to ride in a car that you've already beaten." With jest and laughter, the time passed rapidly. The evening deepened, and a hush fell over the waters of the bay. Lanterns twinkled here and there like fireflies among the shipping, while from an occasional boat rose the tinkling of a banjo or guitar. From the shore side came the night sounds of the great city, sitting proudly on her many hills and crowned with innumerable lights. Silence gathered over the little group, as they gazed, and each was busy with his own thoughts. This loved land of theirs--by this time to-morrow, it would be out of sight below the horizon. Who knew when they would see it again, or through what perils they might pass before they once more touched its shores? It was the little shiver before the plunge, as they stood upon the brink of the unknown; and they were a trifle more quiet than usual, when at last they said good-night and sought forgetfulness in sleep. CHAPTER III A STARTLING MESSAGE The next morning, all was stir and bustle on board the steamer. The great cranes groaned, as they hoisted aboard the last of the freight, and lowered it into the hold, that gaped like a huge monster, whose appetite could never be satiated. Men were running here and there, in obedience to the hoarse commands of the mates, and bringing order out of the apparent confusion. The pier and decks were thronged with friends and relatives of the passengers, come to say good-by to those who seemed to become doubly dear, as the hour of parting drew near. The cabins were piled with flowers that, under the inexorable rules of sea-going ships, would have to be thrown overboard, as soon as the vessel had cleared the harbor. Everywhere there were tears and smiles and hand grasps, as friends looked into each other's eyes, with the unspoken thought that the parting "might be for years, or it might be forever." The boys had risen early, and, after a hearty breakfast, had come on deck, where they watched with keenest zest the preparations for the start. It was a glorious day and one that justified all they had heard of the wonderful California climate. The sun was bright, but not oppressive, and a delightful breeze blew up from the bay. The tang of the sea was in their nostrils, and, as they gazed over the splendid panorama spread out before them, their spirits rose and their hearts swelled with the mere joy of living. The slight melancholy of the night before had vanished utterly, and something of the old Viking spirit stirred within them, as they sniffed the salt breeze and looked toward the far horizon where the sky and waves came together. They, too, were Argonauts, and who knew what Golden Fleece of delight and adventure awaited their coming, in the enchanting empires of the East, or in the "Summer isles of Eden, lying In dark purple spheres of sea." As they stood at the rail, filling their lungs with the invigorating air, and watching the animated scenes about them, Ralph came up to them, accompanied by an alert, keen-eyed man, whom he introduced as his father. He shook hands cordially with the boys, but when he learned that Dick and Tom, as well as Bert, were all students in the college from which he had himself graduated, his cordiality became enthusiasm. He was one of the men who, despite the passing of the years and the growth of business cares, remain young in heart, and he was soon laughing and chatting as gaily as the boys themselves. There was nothing of the snob about him, despite his wealth and prominence, and, in this respect Ralph was "a chip of the old block." "So you are the Wilson whose fadeaway ball won the pennant, are you?" as he turned to Bert. "By George, I'd like to have seen that last game. The afternoon that game was played, I had the returns sent in over a special wire in my office. And when you forged ahead and then held down their heavy hitters in the ninth, I was so excited that I couldn't keep still, but just got up and paced the floor, until I guess my office force thought I was going crazy. But you turned the trick, all right, and saved my tottering reason," he added, jovially. The boys laughed. "It's lucky I didn't know all that," grinned Bert, "or I might have got so nervous that they would have knocked me out of the box. But since you are so interested, let me show you a memento of the game." And running below, he was back in a minute with the souvenir presented to him by the college enthusiasts. It was a splendid gift. The identical ball with which he had struck out the opposing team's most dangerous slugger in the ninth had been encased in a larger ball of solid gold on which Bert's name had been engraved, together with the date and score of the famous game. Now it was passed from hand to hand amid loud expressions of admiration. "It's certainly a beauty," commented Mr. Quinby, "and my only regret is that I wasn't called upon to contribute toward getting it. I suppose it will be rather hard on you fellows," he went on, "to have to go without any baseball this summer. If I know you rightly, you'd rather play than eat." "Oh, well," broke in Ralph, "they may be able to take a fling at it once in a while, even if they are abroad. It used to be the 'national' game, but it is getting so popular everywhere that we'll soon have to call it the 'international' game. In Japan, especially, there are some corking good teams, and they play the game for all it is worth. Take the nine of Waseda University, and they'd give Yale or Princeton all they wanted to do to beat them. Last year, they hired a big league star to come all the way from America, to act as coach. They don't have enough 'beef,' as a rule, to make them heavy sluggers, but they are all there in bunting and place hitting, and they are like cats on the bases." "Yes," said Dick, "and, even leaving foreigners out of the question, the crews from Uncle Sam's warships have what you might call a Battleship League among themselves, and every vessel has its nine. Feeling runs high when they are in port, and the games are as hotly contested as though a World's Series were in question. I'm told that, at the time of the Boxer rebellion, there were some dandy games played by our boys right under the walls of Peking." Just here the captain approached, and, with a hearty handshake and best wishes for the journey, Mr. Quinby went forward with him to discuss business details connected with the trip. Ten o'clock, the hour set for starting, was at hand. The first bell, warning all visitors ashore, had already rung. The last bale of freight had been lowered into the hold and the hatches battened down. There was the usual rush of eleventh hour travelers, as the taxis and cabs rattled down to the piers and discharged their occupants. All the passengers were on the shore side of the vessel, calling to their friends on the dock, the women waving their handkerchiefs, at one moment, and, the next, putting them to their eyes. The last bell rang, the huge gangplank swung inward, there was a tinkling signal in the engine room and the propellers began slowly to revolve. The steamer turned down the bay, passed the Golden Gate where the sea lions sported around the rocks, and out into the mighty Pacific. The voyage of the _Fearless_ had begun. Down in the wireless room, Bert had buckled to his work. With the telephone receiver held close to his ears by a band passing over his head, he exchanged messages with the land they were so rapidly leaving behind them, with every revolution of the screws. Amid the crashing of the sounder and the spitting blue flames, he felt perfectly in his element. Here was work, here was usefulness, here was power, here was life. Between this stately vessel, with its costly cargo and still more precious freight of human lives, and the American continent, he was the sole connecting link. Through him alone, father talked with son, husband with wife, captain with owner, friend with friend. Without him, the vessel was a hermit, shut out from the world at large; with him, it still held its place in the universal life. But this undercurrent of reflection and exultation did not, for a moment, distract him from his work. The messages came in rapidly. He knew they would. The first day at sea is always the busiest one. There were so many last injunctions, so many things forgotten in the haste of farewell, that he was taxed to the utmost to keep his work well in hand. Fortunately he was ambidextrous, could use his left hand almost as readily as his right, and this helped him immensely. From an early age, more from fun than anything else, he had cultivated writing with either hand, without any idea that the day would come when this would prove a valuable practical accomplishment. Now with one finger on the key, he rapidly wrote down the messages with the other, and thus was able to double the rapidity and effectiveness of his work. Before long there was a lull in the flood of messages, and when time came for dinner, he signaled the San Francisco office to hold up any further communications for an hour or so, threw off his receiver, and joined his friends at the table. "Well, Bert, how does she go?" asked Dick, who sat at his right, while Tom and Ralph faced them across the table. "Fine," answered Bert, enthusiastically. "It isn't work; it's pleasure. I'm so interested in it that I almost grudge the time it takes to eat, and that's something new for me." "It must be getting serious, if it hits you as hard as that," said Tom, in mock concern. "I'll have to give the doctor a tip to keep his eye on you." "Oh, Bert just says that, so that when he gets seasick, he'll have a good excuse for not coming to meals," chaffed Ralph. "Well, watch me, fellows, if you think my appetite is off," retorted Bert, as he attacked his food with the avidity of a wolf. "By the way," asked Dick, "what arrangements have you made for any message that may come, while you are toying with your dinner in this languid fashion?" "I've told the San Francisco man to hold things up for a while," replied Bert. "That's the only station we're likely to hear from just now, and the worst of the rush is over. After we get out of range of the land stations, all that we'll get will be from passing ships, and that will only be once in a while." "Of course," he went on, "theoretically, there ought to be someone there every minute of the twenty-four hours. You might be there twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes, and nothing happen. But, in the last minute of the twenty-fourth hour, there might be something of vital importance. You know when that awful wreck occurred last year, the operator was just about to take the receiver from his head, when he caught the call. One minute later, and he wouldn't have heard it and over eight hundred people would have been lost." "I suppose," said Ralph, "that, as a matter of fact, there ought to be two or three shifts, so that someone could be on hand all the time. I know that the Company is considering something of the kind, but 'large bodies move slowly,' and they haven't got to it yet." "For my part," chimed in Tom, "I should think that with all the brains that are working on the subject, there would have been some way devised to make a record of every call, and warn the operator at any minute of the day or night." "They're trying hard to get something practical," said Bert. "Marconi himself is testing out a plan that he thinks will work all right. His idea is to get a call that will be really one long dash, so that it won't be confounded with any letter of the alphabet. He figures on making this so strong that it will pass through a very sensitive instrument with sufficient force to ring a bell, that will be at the bedside of the operator." "Rather rough on a fellow, don't you think?" joined in the ship's doctor. "If he were at all nervous, he might lie there awake, waiting for the bell to ring. It reminds me of a friend of mine, who once put up at a country hotel. He was told that the man who slept in the next room was very irritable and a mere bundle of nerves. He couldn't bear the least noise, and my friend promised to keep it in mind. He was out rather late that night, and when he started to retire he dropped one of his shoes heavily on the floor. Just then he remembered his nervous neighbor. He went on undressing quietly, walked about on tiptoe, put out the light, and crept into bed. Just as he was going off to sleep, a voice came from the other room: 'Say, when in thunder are you going to drop that other shoe?'" "In the meantime," went on Bert, when the laugh had subsided, "they've got an ingenious device on some of the British ships. It seems rather cruel, because they have to use a frog. You know how sensitive frogs are to electricity. Well, they attach a frog to the receiving end, and under him they put a sheet of blackened paper. As the dots and dashes come in, the current jerks the frog's legs over the paper. The leg scrapes the black away, and leaves white dots and dashes. So that you can pick up the paper and read the message just like any other, except that the letters are white instead of black." "Poor old frogs," said Ralph. "If they knew enough, they'd curse the very name of electricity. Galvani started with them in the early days, and they've still got to 'shake a leg' in the interest of science." "Yes," murmured Tom, "it's simply shocking." He ducked as Ralph made a playful pass at him. "There's been quite a stir caused by it," went on Bert, calmly ignoring Tom's awful pun, "and the humane societies are taking it up. The probability is that it will be abolished. It certainly does seem cruel." "I don't know," said the doctor. "Like many other questions, there are two sides to it. We all agree that no pain should be inflicted upon poor dumb animals, unless there is some great good to be gained by it. But it is a law of life that the lesser must give way to the greater. We use the cow to get vaccine for small-pox, the horse to supply the anti-toxin for diphtheria. Rabbits and mice and guinea-pigs and monkeys we inoculate with the germs of cancer and consumption, in order to study the causes of these various diseases, and, perhaps, find a remedy for them. All this seems barbarous and cruel; but the common sense of mankind agrees that it would be far more cruel to let human beings suffer and die by the thousands, when these experiments may save them. If the twitching of a frog's leg should save a vessel from shipwreck, we would have to overlook the frog's natural reluctance to write the message. I hope, though," he concluded, as he pushed back his chair, "that they'll soon find something else that will do just as well, and leave the frog in his native puddle." When they reached the deck, they found that the breeze had freshened, and, with the wind on her starboard quarter, the _Fearless_ was bowling along in capital style. Her engines were working powerfully and rhythmically, and everything betokened a rapid run to Hawaii, which the captain figured on reaching in about eight days. The more seasoned travelers were wrapped in rugs and stretched out in steamer chairs, but many of the others had already sought the seclusion of their staterooms. It was evident that there would be an abundance of empty seats at the table that evening. Throughout the rest of the day the messages were few and far between. Before that time next day, they would probably have ceased altogether as far as the land stations were concerned, and from that time on until they reached Hawaii, the chief communications would be from passing ships within the wireless range. The boys were gathered in the wireless room that night, telling stories and cracking jokes, when suddenly Bert's ear caught a click. He straightened up and listened eagerly. Then his face went white and his eyes gleamed with excitement. It was the S. O. S. signal, the call of deadly need and peril. A moment more and he leaped to his feet. "Call the captain, one of you fellows, quick," he cried. For this was the message that had winged its way over the dark waste of waters: "Our ship is on fire. Latitude 37:12, longitude 126:17. For God's sake, help." CHAPTER IV THE FLAMING SHIP The captain came in hurriedly and read the message. He figured out the position. "She's all of sixty miles away," he said, looking up from his calculation, "and even under forced draught we can't reach her in less than three hours. Tell her we're coming," he ordered, and hurried out to give the necessary directions. The course of the ship was altered at once, the engines were signaled for full speed ahead, and with her furnaces roaring, she rushed through the night to the aid of her sister vessel, sorely beset by the most dreaded peril of the sea. In the mean time Bert had clicked off the message: "We've got you, old man. Ship, _Fearless_, Captain Manning. Longitude 125:20, latitude 36:54. Will be with you in three hours. Cheer up. If you're not disabled, steam to meet us." Quickly the answer came back: "Thank God. Fighting the fire, but it's getting beyond us. Hasn't reached the engine room yet, but may very soon. Hurry." In short, jerky sentences came the story of the disaster. The steamer was the _Caledonian_, a tramp vessel, plying between Singapore and San Francisco. There was a heavy cargo and about forty passengers. A little while since, they had detected fire in the hold, but had concealed the fact from the passengers and had tried to stifle it by their own efforts. It had steadily gained, however, despite their desperate work, until the flames burst through the deck. A wild panic had ensued, but the captain and the mates had kept the upper hand. The crew had behaved well, and the boats were ready for launching if the worst came to the worst. The fire was gaining. "Hurry. Captain says----" Then the story ceased. Bert called and called again. No answer. The boys looked at each other. "The dynamo must have gone out of commission," said Bert. "I can't get him. The flames may have driven him out of the wireless room." All were in an agony of suspense and fear. It seemed as though they crept, although the ship shook with the vibration of its powerful engines, working as they had never worked before. The _Fearless_ was fairly flying, as though she knew the fearful need of haste. Outside of the wireless room, none of the passengers knew of the disaster. Most of them had retired, and, if the few who were still up and about sensed anything unusual, the discipline of the ship kept questions unspoken. All the officers and the crew, however, were on the alert and tingling with the strain, and every eye was turned toward the distant horizon, to catch the first glimpse of the burning vessel. Out into the night, Bert sent his call desperately, hoping to raise some other ship nearer to the doomed steamer than the _Fearless_, but in vain. He caught a collier, three hundred miles away, and a United States gunboat, one hundred and sixty miles distant, but, try as he would, there was nothing nearer. Nobody but themselves could attempt the rescue. Of course, there was the chance that some sailing vessel, not equipped with wireless, might come upon the scene, but this was so remote that it could be dismissed from consideration. More than half the distance had been covered when Dick, who had stepped outside, came running in. "Come on out, fellows," he cried, excitedly. "We can see a light in the sky that we think must come from the fire." They followed him on the run. There, sure enough, on the distant horizon, was a deep reddish glow, that seemed to grow brighter with every passing moment. At times, it waned a trifle, probably obscured by smoke, only to reappear more crimson than ever, as the vessel drew nearer. "How far off do you suppose it is now?" asked Tom. "Not more than fifteen miles, I should think," answered Bert. "We'll be there in less than an hour now, if we can keep up this pace." The _Fearless_ flew on, steadily cutting down the distance, and now the sky was the color of blood. Everything had been gotten in readiness for the work of rescue. The boats had been cleared and hung in their davits, ready to be lowered in a trice. Lines of hose were prepared, not so much with the hope of putting out the fire as to protect their own vessel from the flying brands. Every man of the crew was at his appointed place. Since the wireless could no longer be used to send messages of encouragement, rockets were sent up at intervals to tell the unfortunates that help was coming. "Look!" cried Tom. "That was an actual flash I saw that time." Gradually these became more frequent, and now the upper part of the vessel came into view, wreathed in smoke and flame. Soon the hull appeared, and then they could get a clear idea of the catastrophe. The whole forward part of the vessel was a seething mass of fire. The engines had been put out of commission, and the hull wallowed helplessly at the mercy of the waves. The officers and crew, fighting to the last, had been crowded aft, and the stern was black with passengers huddled despairingly together. The supply of boats had been insufficient, and two of these had been smashed in lowering. Two others, packed to the guards, had been pushed away from the vessel, so as not to be set on fire by the brands that fell in showers all around. Near the stern, some of the sailors were hastily trying to improvise a raft with spars and casks. They were working with superhuman energy, but, hampered as they were by the frantic passengers, could make but little progress. And all the time the pitiless flames were coming nearer and nearer, greedily licking up everything that disputed their advance. It was a scene of anguish and of panic such as had never been dreamed of by the breathless spectators who crowded the bow of the _Fearless_, as it swiftly swept into the zone of light and prepared to lower its boats. Suddenly there was a great commotion visible on the flaming ship. They had seen their rescuers. Men shouted and pointed wildly; women screamed and fell on their knees in thanksgiving. The boats already in the water gave way and made for the _Fearless_. The sailors stopped work upon the raft, now no longer needed, and turned to with the officers who were striving desperately to keep the more frenzied passengers from plunging headlong into the sea and swimming to the steamer. Their last refuge in the stern had grown pitifully small now, and the flames, gathering volume as they advanced, rushed toward them as though determined not to be balked of the prey that had seemed so surely in their grasp. It was a moment for quick action, and Captain Manning rose to the occasion. In obedience to his sharp word of command, the sailors tumbled into the boats, and these were dropped so smartly that they seemed to hit the water together. Out went the oars and away they pulled with all the strength and practised skill of their sinewy arms. Bert and Dick were permitted to go as volunteers in the boat of Mr. Collins, the first mate, who had given his consent with some reluctance, as he had little faith in any but regular sailors in cases of this kind; and his boat was the first to reach the vessel and round to under the stern. "Women and children first," the unwritten law of the sea, was strictly enforced, and they were lowered one by one, until the boat sat so low in the water that Mr. Collins ordered his crew to back away and let the next one take its place. Just as it got under way, a woman holding a baby in her arms, frantic with fright as she saw the boat leaving, broke away from the restraining hand of a sailor, and leaped from the stern. She missed the gig, which was fortunate, as she would certainly have capsized it, heavily laden as it already was, and fell into the water. In an instant Bert, who could swim like a fish, had plunged in and grabbed her as she rose to the surface. A few strokes of the oars and they were hauled aboard, and the boat made for the ship. Collins, a taciturn man, looked his approval but said nothing at the time, although, in a talk with the captain afterwards, he went so far as to revise his opinion of volunteers and to admit that an able seaman could have done no better. The rest of the passengers were quickly taken off and then came the turn of the officers and crew. The captain was the last to leave the devoted vessel, and it was with a warm grasp of sympathy and understanding that Captain Manning greeted him as he came over the side. He was worn with the strain and shaken with emotion. He had done all that a man could do to save his ship, but fate had been too strong for him and he had to bow to the inevitable. He refused to go below and take some refreshment, but stood with knitted brows and folded arms watching the burning steamer that had carried his hopes and fortunes. They respected his grief and left him alone for a time, while they made arrangements for the homeless passengers and crew. These were forlorn enough. They had saved practically no baggage and only the most cherished of their personal belongings. Some had been badly burned in their efforts to subdue the flames, and all were at the breaking point from excitement and fatigue. The doctors of both ships were taxed to the utmost, administering sedatives and tonics and dressing the wounds of the injured. By this time the passengers of the _Fearless_ had, of course, been roused by the tumult, and men and women alike vied with each other in aiding the unfortunates. Cabins and staterooms were prepared for the passengers, while quarters in the forecastle were provided for the crew who, with the proverbial stolidity and fatalism of their kind, soon made themselves at home, taking the whole thing as a matter of course. They had just been at hand-grips with death; but this had occurred to them so often that they regarded it simply as an incident of their calling. There was no thought of sleep for Bert that night. The sounder crashed and the blue flames leaped for hours in the wireless room. The operator of the _Caledonian_ volunteered to help him, but Bert wouldn't hear of it and sent him to his bunk, where, after the terrific strain, he was soon in the sleep of utter exhaustion. Then Bert called up the San Francisco station and told his story. The owners of the ship were notified that the vessel and cargo were a total loss, but that all the passengers had been saved. They sent their thanks to Captain Manning and then wirelessed for details. Mr. Quinby, of course, was called into the conference. Now that it was settled that no lives had been lost, the most important question was as to the disposition of passengers and crew. They had been making for San Francisco, but naturally it was out of the question for the _Fearless_ to relinquish her voyage and take them into port. Three courses were open. They could go to Hawaii, the first stopping place, and there take the first steamer leaving for San Francisco. Or they could depend on the chance of meeting some vessel homeward bound, to which they could transship before reaching Honolulu. Or Bert could send his call abroad through his wireless zone and perhaps arrange for some ship coming toward them to sail along a certain course, meet them at a given location and there take charge of the _Caledonian's_ people. In that case, the owners, of course, would expect to recompense them handsomely for their time and trouble. As the survivors were desperately anxious to reach home and friends at the earliest possible moment, Bert was instructed to follow the latter course and do his utmost to raise some approaching vessel. For a long time his efforts were fruitless. His call flew over the ocean wastes but awoke no answering echo. At last, however, well toward morning, his eager ear caught a responsive click. It came from the _Nippon_, one of the trans-Pacific liners plying between Yokohama and San Francisco. She was less than four hundred miles away and coming on a line slightly east of the _Fearless_. The situation was explained, and after the captains of the two steamers had carried on a long conversation, it was agreed that the _Nippon_ should take charge of the survivors. They would probably meet late that afternoon, and arrangements were made to keep each other informed hourly of pace and direction, until they should come in sight. Bert breathed a huge sigh of relief when that question was settled. But his work was not yet done. He must notify the United States Government of the presence of the derelict as a menace to navigation. The _Caledonian_ had lost all its upper works and part of the hull had been consumed. But the waves breaking over it as it lurched from side to side had kept it from burning to the water's edge, and it now tossed about, a helpless hulk right in the lane of ships. So many vessels have been lost by coming in collision with such floating wrecks at night, that the Government maintains a special line of gunboats, whose one duty is to search them out and blow them up with dynamite. Bert gave the exact latitude and longitude to the San Francisco operator, who promised to forward it at once to the Navy Department at Washington. Then, at last, Bert leaned back in his chair and relaxed. The strain upon heart and nerve and brain had been tremendous. But he had "stood the gaff." The first great test had been nobly met. Cool, clever, self-reliant, he had not flinched or wavered under the load of responsibility. The emergency had challenged him and he had mastered it. In this work, so new to him, he had kept his courage and borne himself as a veteran of the key. He patted the key affectionately. Good old wireless! How many parts it had played that night and how well! Telling first of pain and terror and begging for help; then cheerily sending hope and comfort and promise of salvation. Without it, the dawn would now be breaking on two small boats and a flimsy raft, crowded with miserable refugees and tossing up and down on the gray waves that threatened to engulf. Now they were safe, thank God, warm and snug and secure, soon to be called to the abundant breakfast, whose savory odors already assailed his nostrils. And now the whole world knew of the disaster and the rescue; and the machinery of the Government was moving with reference to that abandoned hulk; and a great ship was bounding toward them over the trackless waste to meet at a given place and time and take the survivors back to country and home and friends and love and life. It was wonderful, mysterious, unbelievable---- A touch upon his shoulder roused him from his reverie, and he looked up, to see the captain standing beside him. "You've done great work this night, Wilson," he said, smiling gravely, "and I'll see that the owners hear of it. But now you must be dead tired, and I want you to get your breakfast and turn in for a while. I'll get Howland, the wireless man of the _Caledonian_, to hold things down for a few hours, while you get a rest. I've told the cook to get a bite ready for you and then I want you to tumble in." The "bite" resolved itself into a capacious meal of steak and eggs, reinforced by fragrant coffee, after which, obeying orders, he rolled into his bunk and at once fell into deep and dreamless sleep. Meanwhile, the ship awoke to the life of a new day. The sun streamed down from cloudless skies and a spanking breeze blew over the quarter. The air was like wine and to breathe it was an inspiration. The sea smiled and dimpled as its myriad waves reflected back the glorious light. The _Fearless_ slipped through the long swells as swiftly as a water sprite, "footing it featly" on her road to Hawaii, the Paradise of the Pacific. Everything spoke of life and buoyancy, and the terrible events of the night before might well have been a frightful nightmare from which they had happily awakened. There were grim reminders, however, that it had been more than a dream in the hurrying doctors, the bandaged hands and faces, the haggard features of the men and the semi-hysterical condition of some of the women. But there had been no death or mortal injury. The Red Death had gazed upon them with its flaming eyes and scorched them with its baleful breath, but they had not been consumed. There were property losses, but no wife had been snatched from her husband, no mother wailed for her child. Under the comforting influence of a hot breakfast, the heartfelt sympathy of the passengers and the invigorating air and sunshine, they gradually grew more cheerful. After all, they were alive, snatched by a miracle from a hideous death; and how could or dared they complain of minor ills? The tension relaxed as the hours wore on, and by the time that Bert, after a most refreshing sleep, appeared again on deck the scene was one of animation and almost gaiety. Straight to the wireless room he went, to be met on the threshold by Dick and Tom and Ralph, who gathered around him in tumultuous greeting. "Bully for you, old man," cried Dick. "We hear that you did yourself proud last night." "Yes," chimed in Ralph. "I wouldn't dare to tell you what Father says in a message I've just received, or you'd have a swelled head, sure." "Nonsense," answered Bert. "I simply did what it was up to me to do. Good morning, Mr. Howland," he said, as the young fellow seated at the key rose to greet him. "How are things going?" "Just jogging along," answered Howland. "I guess you cleaned up about everything before you turned in. We're getting beyond the shore range, but I've been keeping in touch every hour with the _Nippon_. The captain figures that we'll get together at about four this afternoon." The former operator of the _Caledonian_ was a well set-up, clear-eyed young fellow, about the age of Bert and his chums, and a liking sprang up between them at once. With the recuperative power of youth he had almost entirely recovered from the events of the night before, although his singed hair and eyebrows bore eloquent testimony to the perils he had faced and so narrowly escaped. He had stuck to his post until the blistering heat had made life impossible in the wireless room, and then had done yeoman's work in aiding the officers and crew to fight the fire and maintain order among the passengers. The boys listened with keenest interest, while he went over in graphic style his personal experiences. "I can't tell you how I felt when I got your message," he said, as he turned to Bert. "I had about given up hope when your answer came. I rushed at once to the captain and he passed the word to the passengers and crew. It put new heart and life into them all, and it was the only thing that kept many from jumping into the sea when the flames got so horribly near. But they held on desperately, and when they saw your rockets I wish you could have heard the cry that went up. They knew then that it was only a matter of minutes before your boats would be under the stern. But it was fearfully close figuring," he went on, soberly. "You saw yourself that fifteen minutes after the last boat pulled away the whole stern was a mass of flames." "Well," said Bert, as he slipped on the receiver, and took charge of the key, "it's lucky that I got your call just when I did. A little later and I'd have been off duty." "That reminds me," broke in Ralph. "I sent a message to Father to-day about that, urging that you have an assistant to take charge when you are at meals or in bed. I suggested, too, that since Mr. Howland was here, he might be willing to go on with us and act as your assistant. He says he is agreeable if they want him to, and I expect a wireless from Father to the captain authorizing him to make the arrangement." "I hope he will," said Bert, warmly. "Accidents have an awkward way of happening just when they ought not to, and when one thinks of the life and property at stake it certainly seems that somebody should be on the job all the time." A little later the looked-for message came instructing Captain Manning to engage Howland as Bert's deputy during the voyage. From now on, there would not be one moment of the twenty-four hours that someone would not be on watch to send or receive, much to Bert's relief and delight. Now he could breathe freely and enjoy his work, without any torturing fears of what might have happened while he slept. By half-past three that afternoon the ships were within twenty miles of each other. The beautiful weather still continued and the sea was as "calm as a millpond." All were on the alert to greet the oncoming steamer. Soon a dot appeared, growing rapidly larger until it resolved itself into a magnificent steamer, seven hundred feet in length, with towering masts and deck piled on deck, crowded with dense masses of people. She made a stately picture as she came on until a quarter of a mile from the _Fearless_. Then she hove to and lowered her boats. With deep emotion and the warmest thanks, the survivors bade their rescuers good-by and were carried over to the _Nippon_, their third temporary home within twenty-four hours. By the time the last boat had unloaded and been swung on board, dusk had fallen. The ships squared away on their separate courses and the bells in the engine room signaled full speed ahead. Handkerchiefs waved and whistles tooted as they passed each other, and the white-coated band on the upper deck of the _Nippon_ played "Home Again." The electric lights were suddenly turned on and the great ship glowed in beauty from stem to stern. They watched her as she drew swiftly away, until her gleaming lights became tiny diamonds on the horizon's rim and then faded into the night. CHAPTER V AN ISLAND PARADISE "Land ho!" shouted the look-out from his airy perch in the crow's nest, and with one accord the passengers of the _Fearless_ rushed on deck to catch the first glimpse of that wonderful land they had all heard so much about. Hawaii! What a vision of hill and plain, of mountain and valley, of dangerous precipice and treacherous canyon, of sandy beach and waving palm, of radiant sunshine and brilliant moonlight, the magic of that name evokes! "Gee, fellows, can you see anything that looks like land?" Bert asked of his companions, as they elbowed their way through the crowd to the railing of the ship. "Oh, yes, there it is," he cried a moment later, pointing to a tiny spot on the horizon, "but it looks as if it were hundreds of miles away." "It sure does," Dick agreed. "If this atmosphere were not so remarkably clear, we wouldn't be able to see it at all. It doesn't matter how far away it is, though, as long as it's in sight. For the last few days it has seemed to me that we would never reach it," and he gazed longingly at the speck on the horizon that seemed to be dissolving into two or three smaller parts that became more distinct every moment. "Yes, I can't wait to try the little old 'Gray Ghost' on some of those swell Hawaiian roads. Say, fellows, can't you just imagine yourselves in the old car; can't you feel the throb of the motor and the whistling of the wind in your ears as she takes a steep hill with a 'give me something hard, won't you' air? Can't you?" he demanded, joyfully, while the boys thrilled at the mere prospect. "You bet your life," Tom agreed, enthusiastically. "Make believe we won't make things hum in little old Hawaii, eh, fellows?" and they all laughed from sheer delight. "Glad to find you in such good spirits this fine morning, boys," came a genial voice behind them and the boys turned to find the doctor regarding them with a good-natured smile on his friendly face. "I don't wonder you feel good at the prospect of setting foot on solid ground again. For, no matter how enjoyable and prosperous the voyage may be, one is always glad to get on shore and feel that he may come and go when he pleases and is not at the mercy of the elements. I for one will be glad when we cast anchor." "I have always heard that Hawaii was one of the most beautiful countries in the world, and I've always wanted to see it," said Bert. "What do you think of it, Doctor? You must have been here many times." Dr. Hamilton took two or three long puffs of his cigar before he answered, reflectively, "It has always seemed to me that when Nature discovered Hawaii she had some time on her hands that she didn't know what to do with, so she spent it in making this obscure little group of islands way out in the Pacific, the garden spot of the world. Over those islands the wind never blows too roughly or too coldly, the sun never shines too brightly and there is no snow to blight and kill the vegetation that warm rain and summer sun have called forth. Over there the grass is greener, the sky bluer and the scenery more beautiful than it is in any other part of the world. If you should take everything that you consider beautiful, multiply it by one hundred and put them in one small portion of the earth, you would have some idea of what Hawaii is like." The boys were struck by the outburst. "Hawaii is the doctor's favorite hobby," Ralph said, in response to the look of astonishment and wonder on the boys' faces. "If he had his way, he'd live here all the year round." "That I would," said the doctor, with a sigh, "but my profession claims me first, last and all the time. However," he added, with his cheerful smile, "I want you boys to make the most of the few days we are to spend here, to have the time of your lives. The only thing I ask of you is that you don't run the 'Gray Ghost' over the side of a precipice or seek to inquire too closely into the mysteries of the firepit, Halemaumau. I'll have to leave you, as I have some important matters to attend to before I can enjoy the beauties of Hawaii. Coming, Bert? Yes, I shouldn't wonder if we would be getting some wireless messages very soon." The three companions watched Bert and the doctor until they disappeared down the companion-way and then turned once more to the islands. After a moment of silence Tom said, "Say, if Hawaii is all the doctor says it is, Ralph, we ought to have some fun. Imagine driving the machine along a precipice and visiting fire-pits with outlandish names. What was it he called it?" "Halemaumau," Ralph answered. "It is a jaw-breaker, isn't it, but I've heard Dad talk so much about Hawaiian wonders that I've got the name down pat. You see Halemaumau means 'House of Everlasting Fire,' and it's the name of the fire-pit of the crater, Kilauea. There, don't you think I've mastered the subject and learned my lesson well?" "You have, indeed, my son," Dick said, assuming his best grandfatherly air. "If you continue on the road you have begun you will make a success of your life." "Say, fellows," Tom broke in. "Stop your nonsense and look at what you're coming to. I'm beginning to think that Dr. Hamilton didn't exaggerate, after all. Just look at that line of beach with the cliffs behind it, forming a dark background for the white of the buildings. And what are those funny, bobbing things in the water? I suppose they must be boats of some sort, but they don't look like anything I ever saw." "I guess they must be the boats of the native money divers." "Money divers!" Tom exclaimed. "Where do they get the money?" "We give it to them," said Dick. "I remember reading about how passengers throw their perfectly good money into the water just for the fun of seeing those little grafters pick it up. A waste of good money I call it." "Gee, I'm going into the business," Tom affirmed. "Just give me a diving costume and I bet you couldn't tell me from the natives." "You needn't count on annexing any of my hard-earned cash, because you won't get it. I'd be more likely to throw a dynamite bomb in just as you were getting ready to dive," Dick said. "I know you would, you old skinflint. The only thing is that you would be just as likely as I to get blown up. I guess you left that out of your calculations, didn't you?" "What's all this about dynamite bombs and getting blown up?" Bert asked, coming up behind them. "It sounds rather bloodthirsty." "Oh, he's just threatening my very valuable life," Tom answered, "but I forgive him, for he's not responsible for what he says. To change the subject, what are you doing up here when you ought to be taking down wireless messages?" "Oh, I'm off duty for a few days, now. I'm glad of it, for, although I like nothing better than taking down messages and sending them out, it's good to have a few days to explore this country that the doctor has recommended so highly. It sure does look promising." By this time the _Fearless_ had weighed anchor and the boats were being let down to convey the passengers to the shore. All around the ship were the queer little craft of the natives, the occupants on the alert to catch the first bit of money thrown to them. They had not long to wait, for soon small pieces of coin were being showered down. As each piece fell into the water, the little brown-skinned native boys would dive in after it and catch it, with a deftness born of long experience, before it reached the bottom. In spite of the boys' declared intentions not to waste their "hard-earned and carefully-hoarded cash," a few pieces of that very same cash went to increase the spoils of one especially active and dextrous young native. No matter how hard they tried to be prudent or how emphatically they declared that "this would surely be the last bit of money that that little rascal would get out of them," another coin would find its way into the eager hands of the little dark-skinned tempter. There was a very strong bond of fellowship between this small native diving for money way off in the islands of the Pacific and the strong, sturdy college boys who had fought so gallantly on the diamond for the glory of Alma Mater. It was the call of the expert to the expert, the admiration of one who has "done things" for the accomplishments of another. However, the boys were not very sorry when they reached the shore where they were beyond temptation. Tom voiced the general sentiment when he said, "Gee, if we hadn't touched land just as we did, I'd have had to telegraph home to Dad for more money. They nearly broke me." While they were waiting for Ralph, who had stayed behind to see that the "Gray Ghost" got over safely on the raft rigged up for the purpose, the comrades took a look around them. And there was enough to occupy their attention for an hour just in the country in the immediate neighborhood of the harbor. All around them swarmed the natives, big, powerful, good-natured people, all with a smile of welcome on their dark faces. Everywhere was bustle and life and activity. "I always thought that Hawaii was a slow sort of place," Dick said, "but it seems that I was mistaken. This crowd rivals the business crush on Fifth Avenue." "It does that," said Bert. "But just take a glance at this scenery, my friends. Did you ever see anything on Fifth Avenue that looked like that?" "Well, hardly. But it's the town that takes my eye. Look at those quaint houses and the big white building--I suppose it must be a hotel--towering over them. And isn't that a picture, that avenue with the double border of palm trees? We must explore that first thing when we get the 'Gray Ghost.' Say, I'm glad I came." "So am I," said Tom. "If it hadn't been for you, Bert, we shouldn't any of us be here. Prof. Gilbert didn't know what a public benefactor he was when he nominated you for the telegraphy job. Say, isn't that the car coming over now?" he asked, pointing to a great raft that was heading slowly for the dock. "It looks like it," Bert replied. "Make believe it won't seem good to be in a car again. I'm anxious to get my belongings up to one of the hotels, too." "Yes, I'm glad we decided to stay in a hotel for the few days we are going to spend here. It will be good to be able to eat our breakfast on shore for a little while instead of on the briny deep," said Tom, who had not been altogether free from occasional pangs of sea-sickness during the voyage. By this time the raft had landed the car and the other luggage. Ralph was beside his favorite, looking it over from one end to the other to see that everything was intact, while a crowd of curious little urchins watched his every action. In a moment our three fellows had joined him and were busily engaged in trying to remedy an imaginary fault. They finally gave this up as a hopeless task as the car was in absolutely perfect condition. "I guess there's nothing very much the matter with the old car, eh, fellows?" said Ralph with the pride of possession in his voice. "I shouldn't wonder if she could show the natives something of the art of racing and hill-climbing. I bet she is just as anxious as we are to try her speed on that palm avenue there." "Don't let's waste any time then," Dick suggested. "What's the matter with piling our luggage into the car and going right over to the hotel? By the way," he added, as a second thought, "what hotel are we going to?" "Why, Dad told me that if we wanted to get off the ship at Hawaii that the best place to put up at would be the Seaside House," said Ralph. "He thinks that we can have more fun at a small place than we could at one of the swell hotels." "I agree with him there," said Bert, "but do you know the way?" "You just watch me," said Ralph. "If I don't get you to the Seaside in ten minutes I give you leave to hand me whatever you think I deserve in the way of punishment. Come on, jump in, and the little 'Gray Ghost' will have you and your baggage at your destination before you know it." So Tom and Dick jumped into the tonneau with the luggage, while Bert took his seat beside Ralph. Once more they were flying over the road with the wind whistling in their ears to the tune of the throbbing motor. Many nights they had dreamed of it and many days they had talked of it, but to really be there, to feel the mighty power of that great man-made monster, to feel the exhilarated blood come tingling into their faces with the excitement of the race, ah, that was heaven indeed. But all delightful things must come to an end sometime and so, in the very midst of their enjoyment the speed of the great car slackened and they drew up before a building that looked like an overgrown cottage with a sign in front, announcing to all whom it might concern that this was the "Seaside House." It all looked very comfortable and homelike, and even as they stopped the host advanced to give them welcome. It took the boys a very short time to explain that they had just come in on the _Fearless_ and only wanted accommodations for a very few days. In less time than it takes to tell the machine was taken around to the garage and the boys had been shown up to two very comfortably furnished rooms. "Doctor Hamilton expects to stay here, too," Ralph volunteered when they had finished exploring their small domain, "but he won't be able to get here until late this evening. I promised to take the car around for him at the dock about nine o'clock. I suppose all you fellows will go with me, won't you?" "Surest thing you know," Bert agreed. "I'm glad that he's going to be with us for he knows a lot about the country and he'll go with us on all our expeditions. The Doctor's a jolly good sort." "He sure is that," said Tom, and so, in the course of time the Doctor arrived and was given the room next to the boys. Just before they went to sleep that night Bert called into Ralph, "Say, Ralph, what do you love best in the world?" and the answer came in three words, "The Gray Ghost." Next morning bright and early the boys, the Doctor and the "Gray Ghost" started for a visit to Halemaumau, the fire-pit of the crater, Kilauea. The day was ideal for such a trip and the party started off in high spirits. They rode for miles through the most beautiful country they had ever seen until, at last, they came to the foot of the great crater. Only a very few minutes more and they stood within a few yards of the edge of that wonder of wonders, the fire-pit of Kilauea. It is impossible to describe the grandeur of that roaring, surging sea of fire, the tongues of flame lapping one upon another like raging demons in terrific conflict. It is the greatest wonder of Nature ever given to man to witness. For a few seconds the boys could only stand in amazement that such a thing could be. "If anybody had told me," said Bert, almost whispering in his excitement, "a few months ago that I would be standing here at the edge of the largest living crater in the world, I would have thought that either I was crazy or that they were. I never could forget that sight if I lived forever." "It sure is about the slickest little bit of Nature that I ever came across," Tom agreed. "If all the scenery is like this we ought to spend four years here instead of a measly four days. I'm beginning to be as much interested in this place as the Doctor is." "The more you see of it the more you will love it," the Doctor prophesied. "If you would like to we can take a ride across the island to-morrow. It will be about a day's journey, but I can show you a great many points of interest as we go along. What do you say?" The boys fell in with the plan very readily, and so it was decided that the next morning they would start early. With great reluctance and many backward glances they finally tore themselves away from Halemaumau and turned the "Gray Ghost" toward home. During the ride they could talk of nothing else than the wonder and the magnificent beauty of "The House of Everlasting Fire." Mile upon mile they rode with the sun filtering through the trees in little golden patches on the road before them, with the caress of the soft breeze upon their faces and the song of the birds in their ears. "I don't wonder that you think Hawaii's about the nicest place on earth, Doctor," Bert said after a few minutes of silence. "I'm almost beginning to agree with you." And again the Doctor answered, "The more you see of it the more you will love it." CHAPTER VI THE "GRAY GHOST" The next morning after an early breakfast the "Gray Ghost" was brought around in front of the "Seaside" and the boys began to look her over to make sure that she was in condition for the day's trip. They found that everything was all right, so they began loading her with baskets of delicious eatables that the host had prepared for them. In a very short time all was ready and Tom, Dick and Ralph piled in the tonneau, while the Doctor took his seat beside Bert, who was to drive that day. There had been some discussion that morning as to whether Bert or Ralph were to run the machine. Bert claimed that as it was Ralph's car it was his right and prerogative to drive. But Ralph wouldn't listen to such an argument for a minute. For wasn't Bert his guest and wasn't he there to give his guest a good time, especially as he, Ralph, had driven the car the day before? So after a time it had been settled and Bert reluctantly took the wheel. But the reluctance didn't last long, for, when he found himself guiding the great car over the road, the old feeling of exultation took possession of him and the old wild desire to put on full speed came surging over him. But Bert was never one to give way to impulse when caution told him it would be unwise, so he held his desire and, incidentally, his machine well in check. "You said last night that you would tell us about the hunt for sharks, Doctor Hamilton," Dick reminded him. "Won't you tell us about them, now?" "Why, yes, if you would like to hear about it," the Doctor consented. "These seas, as you probably know, are full of sharks, and therefore are very dangerous. The natives of Hawaii are not the people to be terrorized, however, by any animal on land or sea. So, after careful consideration, they decided that, as long as they couldn't hope to exterminate the pests, the only thing for them to do was to learn how to defend themselves against them. So, when a man wanted to go out into the deep, shark-infested waters he would take with him a handy little dagger. Then, instead of swimming for home and safety at the first sign of a shark, he would wait boldly for the creature to come near enough for a hand-to-hand (or, rather, a fin-to-hand) conflict." "Say, a man would have to have some nerve to wait calmly while one of those cute, harmless little animals came prancing up playfully to be petted," Tom broke in. "I'd rather be excused." "It does take an immense amount of courage to brave a shark, but I shouldn't wonder if there were thousands of people in the world who are at this moment making greater sacrifices, performing deeds that call for more real fortitude and courage than these shark hunters ever dreamed of. Only, you see we don't know of those cases. However, that's neither here nor there. Well, to get back to my story, when the shark nears the man he turns on his back to grab him. Then comes the crucial moment. Before the shark has a chance to accomplish his purpose, the native deftly buries the dagger up to the hilt in the shark's throat." "Yes, but suppose the shark nabbed the hunter before he had a chance to use his weapon," Ralph suggested. "It is very probable in that case that the hunter would hunt no more sharks," the Doctor laughed. "However, that very rarely happens these days, for the Hawaiians are trained to hunt as soon as they leave the cradle, and are experts at the age of nine or ten." "I wouldn't mind trying it myself," Bert declared, for, to him danger and excitement were the very breath of life, "only I'd like to practice up for a few years before I hung out my sign." "Well, they went on killing the sharks by means of a dagger for some time," the Doctor went on, "but one day some bright young native discovered what seemed to him to be a much more interesting and, at the same time, just as sure a way of killing the shark. So one day he called all his relatives and friends together and told them to watch his new method. They all noticed that, instead of the usual dagger, this youth carried in his hand a pointed stick. 'What good will a sharp stick do?' they all asked one another. 'He surely cannot mean to kill the shark with such a weapon,' and they tried to persuade him not to try anything so foolish. However, he was not to be persuaded, so he started out with his stick to fight the shark. He had not gone very far before his eagerly watching friends on the shore saw a fin rise above the water and knew that the shark was near. With breathless interest they watched the coming conflict. Nearer and nearer came the shark until it was only a very few yards from the daring hunter. Then in a flash it was on its back and bearing down on its prey. With the speed of lightning our hero reached down the shark's throat and wedged the pointed stick right across it so that the shark couldn't close his wicked, gaping mouth. Of course, not being able to shut his mouth he drowned there in his native element. There is an instance of the irony of fate, isn't it?" "It surely is," Dick answered. "But, Doctor, is that really so or is it only a story?" "It's the truth. The shark hunters use both methods, the dagger and the sharp stick, but the stick is the favorite." So the morning was passed in interesting tale and pleasant conversation, and they were all amazed when the Doctor informed them that it was half-past twelve. Soon afterward they came to a cozy little inn with the sign "Welcome" over the door painted in great gold letters on a black background. At this hospitable place they stopped for lunch. When this most important function of the day was satisfactorily accomplished, they went for a stroll on the beach, as they had about half an hour to look around them before it was necessary to start on their way once more. This part of the beach was perfectly protected from the unwelcome visits of the sharks by the large coral reefs, and the boys were surprised to see the number of people that were enjoying their afternoon dip. "Look at those fellows over there riding in on the breakers," Tom cried, pointing to a group of boys that looked as if they might be Americans. "Will you please tell me what they think they have on their feet?" "They look like snow shoes," Bert said, "but I never knew that you could use skees on the water." "They are really nothing more nor less than snow shoes, but you see over here they have no snow to use them on, so they make them do for the water," said the Doctor. "It's a great stunt," said Dick. "I wish we had brought our bathing suits along, we could take a try at it ourselves." "If bathing suits are all you want," Ralph broke in, "I can soon get you them. This morning I thought we might want them, so, at the last minute, I ran back to get mine. While I was there I discovered your suits all tied together with a strap, so I brought them along, too. They are under the seat in the tonneau." "Bully for you, old fellow," said Dick. "You have a head on your shoulders, which is more than I can say for myself." "Yes, that's fine. Now we can try our skill at skeeing on the water. But, by the way, where will we get the skees?" "They are not really skees; they're only pieces of wood pointed at one end," the Doctor explained, "and I think you will be able to get all you want up at the inn." "But you will come with us, too, won't you?" Bert asked. "It won't be half as much fun if you don't." "No, I don't think that I'll go in with you to-day. I brought a little work along, and I thought that if I got a minute I would try to do some of it. You will only have a little while to stay anyway, so go ahead and enjoy yourselves while you may. I'll tell you when time is up. I'll go with you as far as the house. You needn't be afraid that I'll forget." So, in a few minutes the boys were on the beach once more, ready to try their luck on the skees. They watched the group of fellows that had at first caught their attention until they thought that they knew pretty well what to do. When they fancied they could safely venture they waded out until the water was about to their waists. Then, resting the long board on the water, they tried their best to mount it, as they had seen the other fellows do. But they would just get the board placed nicely with its point toward the shore, when a wave would come along and carry it out from under their feet. They had very nearly given it up in despair when one of the fellows from the other group came over and spoke to them. "Is this your first try at the surf boards?" he asked, and they knew from the very tone of his voice that he was what they had thought him, an American. "We saw you were having trouble, and we thought you wouldn't mind if we gave you a few pointers. It's hard to do at first, but when you once catch on it's a cinch." "We would be very much obliged if you would show us how to manage them," Bert replied. "I thought that I had tried pretty nearly every kind of water trick, but this is a new one on me." "Yes, we can't seem to get the hang of it," Tom added. "How do you stay on the thing when you once get there?" So our boys and the others soon became very well acquainted, and it wasn't very long before they were doing as well as the strangers. All too soon they saw the Doctor coming down the beach toward them, and they knew that the time was up. They bade good-bye to their new found friends and hurried up to the inn to get ready for the rest of the journey. For the whole afternoon they rode through scenes of the most striking beauty and grandeur. They went through the historic valley of Nuuanu, where the great battle was waged by Kamehameha the Great, sometimes called the Napoleon of the Pacific. They followed the scene of that terrible struggle until they came to the precipice over which the Oahu army of more than three thousand men had been forced to a swift death on the rocks below. When they reached the hotel at which they had expected to stay for the night, they found a telegram waiting for them. Doctor Hamilton opened it and read, "Come at once. Ship sails to-morrow morning, nine o'clock." "That means," said the Doctor, "that we will have to start for the _Fearless_ as soon as we can get a bite to eat." So start they did, and it took hard riding nearly the whole night to get them to the ship in time. After they had settled with the landlord of the Seaside House and had hustled their belongings into the car, they started for the dock and found that they were just in the nick of time. As Bert turned from his companions toward the operating room to take down any last messages that Hawaii might want to send, he said with a sigh, "I'm sorry that we had to leave sooner than we expected, but as long as we had to--say, fellows, wasn't that ride great?" CHAPTER VII A SWIM FOR LIFE It was a hot day, even for the tropics, and everybody felt the heat intensely. Awnings had been stretched over the deck, and under their inviting shade the passengers tried to find relief from the burning sun, but with little success. A slight accident to the machinery had caused the ship to heave to, so that they were deprived of the artificial breeze caused by the vessel's motion. The oppressive heat rivaled anything the boys had ever felt, and for once even their effervescent spirits flagged. They lolled about the deck in listless attitudes, and were even too hot to cut up the usual "monkeyshines" that gave the passengers many a hearty laugh. Dick looked longingly at the green, cool-appearing water, that heaved slowly and rhythmically, like some vast monster asleep. "Make out it wouldn't feel good to dive in there, and have a good, long swim," he exclaimed, in a wistful voice. "Just think of wallowing around in that cool ocean, and feeling as though you weren't about to melt and become a grease spot at any moment. Gee, I'd give anything I own to be able to jump in right now." "Go ahead," grinned Bert, "only don't be surprised if we fish you out minus a leg or two. Those two sharks that have been following the ship for the last week would welcome you as a very agreeable addition to their bill of fare." "Yes," chimed in Ralph, "and that's not the only thing, either. I've felt sorry for those poor old sharks for quite a while. Here they follow our ship around for a week, hoping that somebody will fall overboard and furnish them a square meal, and then everybody disappoints them. I call it pretty mean conduct." "That's my idea exactly," agreed Bert, "and I think it would only be doing the gentlemanly thing for Dick to volunteer. You won't disappoint your friends on a little point like that, will you, Dick?" "No, certainly not," responded Dick, scornfully. "Just ring the dinner bell, so that the sharks will be sure not to miss me, and I'll jump in any time you say. Nothing I can think of would give me greater pleasure." "Well, on second thought," laughed Bert, "I think we'd better save you a little while, and fatten you up. I'm afraid you haven't got fat enough on you at present to give entire satisfaction. We might as well do this thing up right, you know." "O, sure, anything to oblige," grunted Dick. "Just dispose of me any way you think best. Naturally, the subject has little interest for me." "Aw, you're selfish, Dick, that's what's the matter with you," said Ralph. "I'd be willing to bet any money that you're thinking more of yourself than you are of those two poor, hungry fish. Gee, I'm glad I'm not like that." "All right, then," responded Dick, quickly, "as long as you feel that way, and I don't, why don't you serve yourself up to the suffering sharks? Besides, you're fatter than I am." Apparently Ralph could think of no satisfactory answer to this profound remark and so changed the subject. "Well," he exclaimed, "all this doesn't get us any nearer to a good swim. I wish this were one of the steamships I was on not long since." "Why, how was that?" inquired Bert. "Well, on that ship they had a regular swimming tank on board. Of course, it wasn't a very big one, but it was plenty large enough to give a person a good swim. Gee, I used to just about live in that tank on a day like this." "I suppose that was what you might call a tank steamer, wasn't it?" said Bert, and his remark raised a general laugh. But now an elderly man among the passengers, who up to now had listened to the boys' conversation with a smile on his face, but had not spoken, said, "Why don't you ask the captain to rig up the swimming nets? I'm sure he would be willing to do it for you, if you asked him in the right way." "Swimming nets!" exclaimed Dick, "what's a swimming net?" "Why, it's simply a sort of a cage that they rig up alongside the ship, and anybody that wants to can swim to their heart's content inside it. The net keeps sharks out, and makes it safe." "Say, that would certainly be great," exclaimed Ralph. "Come along, fellows, and we'll see if we can't persuade the captain to fix us up. The idea of a good swim certainly hits me where I live." The rest were nothing loath, and they jumped to their feet and rushed off in search of Captain Manning. He was soon found, and listened smilingly to Ralph, who acted as spokesman for the others. "I guess we can arrange that, all right," he said, after Ralph had finished. "It will be at least two hours before our repairs are finished. Between you and me, I'd like to jump in myself," he added, regretfully. He gave orders accordingly, and the crew soon had the netting rigged. Before they had finished, news of what was going on had flown through the ship. All who felt so disposed or had bathing paraphernalia with them, appeared on deck attired for a dip. Needless to say, Bert, Dick, and Ralph were among the first to put in an appearance, and great was their impatience while the crew were putting the finishing touches to the "cage." While they were waiting, Ralph said, "Look at that, fellows. Those two sharks that we were talking about a little while ago have disappeared. I guess they must have overheard our conversation, and given us up for a bad job." "They're certainly not in sight, at any rate," said Dick. "However, I think I shall manage to control my grief at their desertion." "It always gave me a creepy feeling," said the passenger who had first suggested the swimming nets, "they hung on so persistently, just as though they felt sure that their patience would be rewarded some time. It seemed uncanny, somehow." "It certainly did," agreed another. "I guess they're gone for good, this time, though." This seemed to be the general opinion among the crew, also, and the boys felt relieved in spite of themselves, for swimming in close proximity to a couple of hungry sharks, even when separated from them by a net, is not a particularly cheerful experience. Soon everything was ready, and the swimmers descended the steps let down alongside the ship, and plunged into the water. It was very warm, but a good deal cooler than the air, and you may be sure it felt good to the overheated passengers. Bert and Ralph were expert swimmers, and dove and swam in a manner to bring applause from the passengers up above. Dick was not such a very good swimmer, having had little experience in the water. He enjoyed the dip none the less on this account, however, and if he could not swim as well as the others, at least made quite as much noise as they. After half an hour or so of this the boys ascended to the deck to rest a little before continuing their aquatic exercises. "My, but that felt good, and no mistake," said Bert. "It sure did," agreed Ralph. "The only objection I can find is that you can't swim far enough in any one direction. I like to have enough space to let me work up a little speed. I've half a mind to take a chance and dive off here outside the net. There's no sign of those pesky sharks around now. I'm going to take a chance, anyhow," and before anybody had a chance to stop him he had made a pretty dive over the side. He struck the water with scarcely a splash, and in a few seconds rose to the surface and shook the water out of his eyes. Bert yelled at him to come back on board, but he only shook his head and laughed. Then he struck out away from the ship with bold, rapid strokes, and soon had placed a considerable distance between himself and the vessel. Bert and the others watched his progress with anxious eyes. "The young fool," growled one of the passengers, "hasn't he got any more sense than to do a thing like that? Those sharks are likely to show up any minute. They don't usually give up so quickly, once they've started to follow a ship." It seemed, however, as though Ralph would experience no bad results from his rash act. He had swum several hundred yards from the vessel, and had turned to come back, when a cry went up from one of the women passengers. "Look! Look!" she screamed, and pointed wildly with her parasol. All eyes followed its direction, and more than one man turned white as he looked. For there, not more than five hundred feet from the swimmer, a black fin was cutting the water like a knife-blade. It was not headed directly for Ralph, however, but was going first in one direction, then in another, showing that the shark had not yet definitely located his prey. A few seconds later a second fin appeared, and there was little doubt in the minds of all that these were the two sharks that had followed the ship for the last few days. In the meantime, Ralph had drawn nearer the ship, but was swimming in a leisurely fashion, and evidently had no inkling of the deadly peril that threatened him. Bert was about to yell to him and point out his danger, when he thought better of it. "If he knew those two sharks were on his trail," he said in a strained voice to Tom, "he might get frightened and be unable to swim at all. I think we had better leave him alone and hope that he gets to the ship before the sharks locate him." "Let's go after him in a boat," suggested one of the sailors, excitedly, and this was no sooner said than done. Without even waiting for orders from the captain, several of the crew started to launch a boat, but it became evident that this could be of no avail. For at that moment the two searching fins suddenly stopped dead for a second, and then started straight for the unconscious swimmer. A cry went up from the passengers, which reached Ralph's ears. He glanced behind him, and for a second seemed paralyzed at what he saw. Bert yelled wildly. "Swim for your life, Ralph," he shrieked. "Here," turning to the sailors, "get a long rope, and stand by. We'll need it when he gets near the ship." Now Ralph had recovered from his panic to some extent, and struck out as he had never done before. At every stroke he fairly leaped through the water, but the two black fins overhauled him with lightning-like rapidity. Closer and closer they came, and still the swimmer was a good forty or fifty yards from the ship. Now he started a fast crawl stroke, and it was a lucky thing for him that day that he was an expert swimmer. He was soon almost under the ship's side, and one of the sailors threw the rope previously secured in his direction. Ralph grasped it with a despairing grip, but now the two fins were terribly close, and approaching at express train speed. A dozen willing hands grasped the rope, and just as the two man-eaters were within ten feet of him the exhausted swimmer was swung bodily out of the water. There was a swish alongside, two great white streaks flashed by, and the passengers caught a glimpse of two horrible, saw-like rows of gleaming teeth. Then Ralph was drawn up on a level with the rail, and strong hands pulled him safely inboard. No sooner did he realize that he was safe, than he collapsed, and it was some time before he recovered from the strain. When he was once more himself, he grinned weakly at Bert. "Next time I'll follow your advice," he said. "Oh, well, 'all's well that ends well,'" quoted Bert. "Just the same, it was more than you deserved to have us work ourselves to death a hot day like this trying to keep you from doing the Jonah act. It would have served you right if we had let the shark take a bite or two." "Sorry to have troubled you, I'm sure," retorted Ralph. "But say, fellows, just as soon as I can get enough nerve back to think, I'm going to dope out some way of getting even with those man-eaters. I'll be hanged if I'm going to let even a shark think he can try to make hash of me and get away with it. In the meantime, you and Tom might set your giant intellects to work and see if you can think of a plan." A sailor had overheard this, and now he touched his cap, and said: "Excuse me for buttin' in, but I think me and my mates here can fix up those sharks for you, if the captain's willin'. On a bark I sailed in once we caught a shark that had been annoyin' us like these has, just like you'd catch a fish. We baited a big hook, and pulled him in with the donkey engine. If the captain ain't got no objections, I don't see why we couldn's sarve these lubbers the same trick." This idea met with instant approval, and Captain Manning was soon besieged by a fire of entreaty. At first he seemed inclined to say no, but when he found that the majority of the passengers were in favor of capturing the sharks, he gave a reluctant consent. The sailors grinned in happy anticipation of a good time, and set about their preparations with a will, while an interested group that surrounded them watched the development of their scheme with intense interest. CHAPTER VIII THE CAPTURED SHARK The species of shark that inhabits tropical waters is very voracious, and will eat almost anything that has the smell or taste of food about it. Therefore, the sailors were troubled by no fears that the bait they were preparing would not prove tempting enough. The cook had provided them with a huge slab of salt pork, and then the problem arose as to what they could use as a hook. Finally, however, one of the sailors unearthed a large iron hook, such as is used on cranes and other hoisting machinery. The point of this was filed down until it was sharp as a needle, and the big piece of meat was impaled on it. "That ought to hook one of them blarsted man-hunters," remarked one grizzled old sea dog, who was known to his companions as "Sam," and apparently had no other name. "If that hook once gets caught in his gizzard, we'll have him on board unless the rope breaks, won't we mates?" "Aye, aye. That we will," came in a gruff chorus from the bronzed and hardy crew, and matters began to look dark for the unconscious sharks. When the meat had been securely tied to the hook, the big crane used to store the cargo in the hold was brought into use, and the hook made fast to the end of the strong wire cable. "Gee," said Tom, who had been regarding these preparations with a good deal of interest, as indeed had everybody on deck, "I begin to see the finish of one of those beasts, anyway. I can see where we have shark meat hash for the rest of this voyage, if the cook ever gets hold of him." "Oh, they're not such bad eating, at that," said Ralph. "Why, when once in a while one becomes stranded on the beach and the natives get hold of him, they have a regular feast day. Everybody for miles around is notified, and they troop to the scene of festivities by the dozen. Then they build fires, cut up the shark, and make a bluff at cooking the meat before they start to eat it. But you can hardly call it eating. They fairly gorge it, and sometimes eat steadily a whole day, or at any rate until the shark is all gone but his bones. Then they go to bed and sleep off the results of their feed. They don't need anything else to eat for some days." "Heavens, I shouldn't think they would, after that," laughed Bert. "I think if I ate a whole day without stopping it would end my worldly career at once. Subsequent events wouldn't have much interest for me." "Oh, well," said Dick, in a whimsical tone, "I suppose they think if they did die, they would at least have died happy." "And full," supplemented Bert. "Oh, that's the same thing with them," laughed Ralph. "That's their idea of paradise, I guess. They're always happy when they have enough to eat, anyway." "Well, that's the way with all of us, isn't it?" asked Dick. "You're never very happy when you're hungry, I know that." "But there's a shark not very far from here that's not going to be very happy when he's eaten a square meal that we're going to provide him," laughed Bert, and the others agreed with him. By this time everything was ready for the catching of at least one of the sharks, and steam was turned into the engine operating the crane. The machine proved to be in first-class condition, and so the baited hook was carried to the side and slowly eased into the water. An empty cask had previously been tied to it, however, to act as a float, and all eyes were fastened eagerly on this. It drifted slowly away from the ship's side, as the cable was paid out, and was checked when it had reached a distance of perhaps a hundred and fifty feet from the vessel. The sailors had armed themselves with axes and clubs, and waited expectantly for the disturbance around the cask that would show when the monster had been hooked. For some time, however, the cask floated serenely, without even a ripple disturbing it. Many were the disappointed grumblings heard among passengers and crew, but the confidence of old Sam was not shaken. "Give him time, give him time!" he exclaimed. "You don't expect him to come up and swally the bait right on scratch, like as though he was paid to do it, do ye? Have a little patience about ye, why don't ye? Bein' disappointed in takin' a nip out of the lad, there, them sharks will hang around, hoping for another chanst, never fear. Time ain't money with them fellers." The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the cask disappeared in a whirl of foam, and a cheer arose from the spectators. The steel cable whipped up out of the water, and sprang taut as a fiddle string. The big crane groaned as the terrific strain came upon it. "Say, but that must be a big fellow," exclaimed Bert, in an excited voice. "Just look at that cable, will you. It takes some pull to straighten it out like that." But now the shark, seeming to realize that he could not get away by pulling in one direction, suddenly ceased his efforts, and the cable slackened. Captain Manning gave the signal to the engineer to start winding in the cable, but hardly had the drum of the crane started to revolve, when the shark made a great circular sweep in a line almost parallel with the ship. The cable sang as it whipped through the water in a great arc, and the whole ship vibrated to the terrific strain. But the great fish was powerless against the invincible strength of steam, and was slowly drawn to the ship as revolution after revolution of the inexorable engine drew in the cable. Leaning breathlessly over the side, the passengers and crew could gradually make out the shape of the struggling, lashing monster as he was drawn up to the ship's side. He made short dashes this way and that in a desperate effort to break away, but all to no purpose. When he was right under the ship's side, but still in the water, the captain ordered the engine stopped, and requested the passengers to retire to a safe distance. Bert, Dick, and Ralph pleaded hard to be allowed to take a hand in dispatching the monster, but Captain Manning was inexorable, and they were forced to withdraw from the scene of the coming struggle. The crew grasped their weapons firmly, and as one put it, "cleared for action." Then the signal was given to resume hoisting the big fish aboard, and once more the crane started winding up the cable. Slowly, writhing and twisting, the shark was hauled up the side. He dealt the ship great blows with his tail, any one of which would have been sufficient to kill a man. His smooth, wet body gleamed in the sun's rays, and his wicked jaws snapped viciously, reminding the spectators of the teeth of some great trap. All his struggles were in vain, however, and finally, with one great "flop" he landed on the deck. He lashed out viciously with his powerful tail, and it would have been an ill day for any member of the crew that inadvertently got in its path. Needless to say, they were very careful to avoid this, and dodged quickly in and out, dealing the monster heavy blows whenever the opportunity offered. Slowly his struggles grew less strong, and at last he lay quite still, with only an occasional quiver of his great carcass. Then old Sam stepped quickly in, and delivered the "coup de grace" in the form of a stunning blow at the base of the shark's skull. This was the finishing blow, and soon the passengers were allowed to gather around and inspect the dead monster. A tape-measure was produced, and it was found that the shark was exactly twelve feet and seven inches long. "Why," remarked Dick, "you'd have been nothing but an appetizer to this fellow, if he had caught you, Ralph. He sure is some shark." "Well, I won't contradict you," said Ralph, "but I don't think this shark was the same one that chased me. Why, it seems to me that that fellow was nothing but teeth. That's all I remember noticing, at any rate." "Yes, but this rascal seems to have quite a dental outfit," said Dick. "Just think what it must be to a shark if he starts to get a toothache in several teeth at once. It must be awful." "I'm certainly glad our teeth aren't quite as numerous," laughed Bert. "Just think of having to have a set of false teeth made. A person would have to work about all his lifetime to pay for a set like that." "It would be fine for the dentists, though," remarked Ralph, but then he added, "I wonder what they're going to do with this fellow, now that they've caught him." "Throw him overboard, I suppose," said Bert. "I don't think he's of much use to us, seeing that we're not like the savages Ralph was telling us about." And that is just about what they did do. First, however, the sailors secured a number of the shark's teeth, and these were distributed among the passengers as souvenirs. Then the great carcass was hoisted up until it dangled over the water, and the hook was cut out. The dead monster struck the water with a splash, and slowly sank from view. "Well, Ralph, now you've had your revenge, anyway," said Bert. "I don't think there's much doubt that that was one of the pair that came so near to ending your promising career. He looked to be about the same size as the one that almost had you when we hauled you out." "Oh, I guess it's the same one, all right," agreed Ralph, "and I owe everyone a vote of thanks, I guess. I hope I never come quite so near a violent death again. It was surely a case of nip and tuck." The crew now set to work to clear up the mess that had been made on the deck, and soon all mementoes of the bloody struggle were removed. Shortly afterward the chief engineer reported that the break in the machinery had been repaired, and it was not very long before the ship renewed its interrupted voyage. At the dinner table that night little else was spoken of, and Ralph was congratulated many times on his lucky escape. And one of the passengers voiced the general sentiment, when he said with a smile that "he was satisfied if the ship broke down often, provided they always had as exciting an experience as they had had to-day." CHAPTER IX IN THE HEART OF THE TYPHOON Over the quiet ocean so calm that, except for an occasional swelling foam-tipped wave it seemed like a sea of glass, the noon-day sun poured its golden light. It was a perfect day at sea, and so thought the passengers on board the swift ocean greyhound that plowed its way through the quiet waters of the Pacific. A stately ship was she, a palace upon the waves. No deprivation here of any comfort or luxury that could be found on land. Her shining brass work gleamed in the sunshine like molten gold. The delicate colors in her paneling blended with the tints of the soft rugs on her polished floors. On deck, in the saloons, and staterooms, all was luxury. Gay groups of passengers, richly dressed, paraded her decks or lay at ease in their steamer chairs, or upon the softly-upholstered couches and divans of her gorgeous saloons. Japanese servants glided noiselessly to and fro, ministering to the slightest wish of these favored children of fortune. Everywhere were signs of wealth and ease and careless gaiety. Sounds of music and merry laughter floated over the quiet waters. Pain, fear, suffering, disaster, danger, death,--what had such words as these to do with this merry company? If anyone had mentioned the possibility of peril, of calamity, the idea would have been scouted. Why, this great ship was as safe as any building on land. Was it not fitted with water-tight compartments? Even such an unlikely thing as a collision could bring no fatal catastrophe. That this feeling of absolute security is felt by all can be very plainly seen. Go to the perfectly appointed smoking-room and scan the faces of the gentlemen, quietly smoking and reading, or talking in friendly fashion together, or enjoying a game of cards. Every face is serene. Pass on into the music-room. A waltz is being played by the piano and violin, and gay couples of young people are enjoying the dance to the utmost. Groups of interested older people look on with smiles. No anxiety here. Nothing but happy, care-free faces. But come into the captain's private cabin where he is standing, listening earnestly to one of his officers. Perfect appointments here also, but evidently they do not appeal to these men at this moment. No smiles of gaiety here. The captain's face pales as he listens to his officer's words. "The barometer has fallen several inches in the last hour and a half," was the announcement. Not enough in this, one may think, to cause anxiety. But the captain knew and realized, as few on board beside himself could, that the ship was nearing the coast of Japan, the latitude most frequently visited by the dreaded typhoon, and also that this mid-summer season was the most dangerous time of the year. Among the first signs of danger from one of these terrible visitors is an unusually rapid fall of the barometer. No wonder that, with the responsibility of the lives and safety of hundreds of people resting upon him, his face should blanch with apprehension. Verifying his officer's statement by a quick look at the barometer, he went hastily on deck. Here his quick eye noticed the change in weather conditions; not very great as yet, only a slight cloudiness which dimmed the brightness of the sun. Not enough to trouble the passengers who, if they noticed it at all, were only conscious of an added sense of comfort in the softening of the almost too brilliant sunshine, but enough to deepen the pallor of the captain's face and quicken his pulse with the realization of a great, impending danger. Even as he looked the heavens began still more to darken, the clouds increased in size and blackness and began to move wildly across the sky. The wind freshened and the quiet sea broke into billows which grew larger and more angry-looking each passing moment. Taking his stand on the bridge, the captain summoned all his officers to him and gave quick, decisive orders. With the rapidity of lightning his orders are executed and soon everything is made snug. Every possible measure is taken to safeguard the ship. But, now it was evident to all that more than an ordinary storm threatened them. In an almost incredibly short time the whole aspect of sky and sea had changed. The surface of the ocean was lashed into mountainous waves which raced before the terrible wind. The heavens darkened until an almost midnight blackness settled down over the appalled voyagers. Vanished are the sounds of music and laughter. Gone the happy, care-free look from the faces. Filled with terror, they awaited they knew not what. The wind increased, and now the heavens opened and the rain came in such a torrential downpour that it seemed almost as if the great, staunch ship would be beaten beneath the waves. With a feeling of agonized despair, the captain realized that that which he so feared had come upon the vessel, and that she was in the grasp of the dreaded typhoon. The darkness thickened, the wind increased, and suddenly they felt themselves caught in a great wave which tossed the ship about like a child's toy. Back and forth twisted the great ship, completely at the mercy of this remorseless wind and sea. Thunderous crashing was heard as the upper works of the ship were torn away by the gigantic waves that washed over her. The passengers were panic-stricken and rushed wildly about, seeking those who were dear to them, their cries and groans drowned in the roaring of tumultuous seas. The captain, calm and self-controlled in the midst of this terrible scene, went about among them, restraining, soothing, speaking words of encouragement and hope, but in his heart he had no hope. A fireman rushed up with the report that the engine-rooms were flooded and the fires out; and then, with blows that made the great ship tremble, part of timbers were torn away by the great seas which made no more of iron girders or sheets of riveted steel than if they were strips of cardboard. The sea rushed in from more than one jagged opening in her side. Now at last, the captain realized that his splendid ship was doomed. The great vessel was slowly sinking. One hour, a little more, a little less, would see the end. And, to make their doom more certain, he could not launch a single life-boat for they had all been shattered and washed away by the sea. There is but one hope left, and quickly ascertaining that the wireless is still O. K., the captain orders the call for help. For who can tell at what moment the apparatus might be disabled? Eagerly the operator bends above his key and forth across the angry waves, defying the forces of wind and wave and torrent that have sought to cut them off from all succor, goes that pitiful cry for help. With every nerve strained to the utmost tension he awaits the response that will assure him that his call is heard and that help is coming; but, before his ear can catch the welcome signal a flash, a whirring and snapping, tells him that the apparatus has gone dead! They must wait for the weary danger-fraught moments to bring them the knowledge. Thank God the cry for help was sent in time. There is a chance of its reaching some ship near enough to rescue them; but near indeed that ship must be or she will bring help too late. * * * * * Twenty miles away the good ship _Fearless_ plows through mountainous billows that, breaking, drench her decks with spray. In his wireless room Bert is sitting with his receiver at his ear on the alert for any message. His three chums are with him as usual, Tom and Ralph sitting in a favorite attitude with arms across the back of a chair in front of them, while Dick walked excitedly up and down the room. Quite a difficult task he found that for the ship was rolling considerably. As he walked he talked. "Well, fellows," he was saying, "I have always wanted to see a genuine storm at sea, and to-day I think I've seen it." "It seems to me that you've seen a great deal more storm to-day than you longed for or ever care to see again," Tom commented. "You're just right there," Dick agreed. "It would be all right if you could watch the storm without sharing the danger. There was one time this afternoon when I thought it was certainly all over with us." "It sure did look that way, and I guess Captain Manning thought so, too," Tom said. "It was a lucky thing for the _Fearless_," Ralph broke in, "that the storm didn't last long. If it had kept on much longer we shouldn't be here talking about it now." "But wasn't Captain Manning fine through it all?" said Bert. They were all feeling the effects of one of the most thrilling experiences of their lives. The _Fearless_, fortunate in not being in the direct course of the typhoon, had felt its force sufficiently to place her in great danger and to make every man Jack of her crew do his duty in a desperate effort to keep his ship from going to the bottom. That they had come through safely with no greater damage than the washing away of her life-boats was largely due to Captain Manning's strength and courage, and the young fellows were filled with admiration. Each in his heart had resolved to prove himself as brave if a time of trial should come to him. With this thought in mind they had sat very quietly for a few moments after Bert's last remark, but now they all thrilled with a new excitement as Bert suddenly straightened up from his lounging position, and, with kindling eye and every faculty alert, grasped the key of his instrument. The others knew that he had caught a wireless message and feared from the sudden flushing and paling of his face that it was a call for help. In the twinkling of an eye all was again excitement on board the _Fearless_. The ship's course was altered and, with full steam pressure on her engines, she fairly flew to the rescue. Twenty miles, and a trifle over fifty minutes to reach that sinking ship. Could she make it? Hearts felt and lips asked the question as the _Fearless_ raced over the water, and all eyes were strained in a vain effort to catch a sight of the ship to whose succor they were going long before there was even the remotest possibility of sighting her. Their own peril was so recently passed that all on board the _Fearless_ throbbed with pity for those so much more unfortunate than themselves, and prayed heaven that they might be in time. * * * * * But if eyes were strained on the _Fearless_, how much more earnestly did everyone of those on the ill-fated steamer look for some sign or sound from a rescuing ship? The typhoon had passed very quickly, but what havoc it had wrought in so short a time! The floating palace that had seemed so secure was now reduced to a dismantled, twisted hulk, water-logged and slowly carrying her unfortunate passengers to destruction. A whole hour had passed since the message had been sent forth to seek and find help, but no help had come. Who shall attempt to record the history of that hour? At first hope, faint it is true but still hope, then increasing anxiety as the doomed vessel settled deeper and deeper in the water, then growing despair as all feared, what the captain and crew knew, that in a very little while would come the end. Even if a vessel should appear now, the captain feared that only a few could be saved, as it must be a work of time to transfer those hundreds of passengers from one ship to another. As all the life-boats had been smashed and carried away, precious minutes must be lost awaiting a boat from the rescuing ship. But in order that all might be in readiness, the women and children were placed close to the rail to be taken first, and the other passengers told off in squads for each succeeding embarkation so that there need be no confusion at the last moment. To the poor unfortunates those long minutes of waiting, fraught with possibilities of life or death, had seemed like hours. A great quiet had fallen over them, the paralyzing stupor of despair. Nearly all had ceased to hope or look for rescue, but sat with bowed heads, awaiting the fate which could not now be long delayed. Suddenly, through this silent despairing company ran an electric thrill. Life pulsed in their veins, and hope that they had thought dead, sprang anew in their hearts. A sailor casting one despairing glance about him, had seen the smokestacks of a steamer gleaming red through the faint mist that still hung over the water. Springing to his feet, he began shouting, "Sail ho! a sail! a sail!" For a moment all was wildest confusion, and it was with greatest difficulty that the captain, who had prepared for just this outbreak, could control these frantic people and restore discipline among them. By this time, the lookout on the _Fearless_ had made out the wreck and a heartening toot-toot from her steam whistle gladdened the waiting hundreds. But would she reach them in time? Already the captain had noticed the trembling of the ship that so surely foretells the coming plunge into the depths of the ocean. It is a miracle that Fate had so long stayed her hand. To be lost now, with life and safety almost within their grasp, would be doubly terrible. Breathlessly they wait until the steamer moving at the very limit of her speed, comes nearer and nearer, till at last she slows and drifts only a few hundred feet away. To the surprise of the _Fearless_, no attempt was made on board the sinking ship to lower her boats; and equal was the consternation on board the sinking steamer, when they saw that no boats were lowered from the other ship. "Her boats are gone, too," shouted Bert as the situation became plain to all. No sooner had the words left his lips than the _Fearless'_ carpenters were at work, and in an incredibly short space of time, a rough life buoy was knocked together. They worked with a will for they knew that every second might mean a life. The buoy consisted of a rude platform with uprights at its four corners, to the top of each of which a pulley was securely fastened. Around the uprights ropes were wound making a rude but safe conveyance. While this was doing, a ball with string attached was shot from a small cannon on board the _Fearless_. Whistling through the air, it landed just within the wrecked ship's rail. Eager hands prevent it from slipping and there is no lack of helpers to draw in the line to the deck. With deft but trembling hands the crew work to secure the cable which follows the line. At last the life line is adjusted and secured between the two ships, the life buoy comes speeding over the water to the doomed vessel, and as it rushed back toward the waiting _Fearless_, with its load of women and children, a great cheer goes up. A moment, and the forlorn creatures are lifted by tender hands to the _Fearless_, and the buoy swings back for a second load. The work of rescue has begun. Back and forth swings the buoy until the women and children are all safe, and still the miracle holds; the wreck still floats. In less time than would have seemed possible, all the sufferers from the wreck have reached the rescuing ship except the captain and his first mate, and the life buoy is swung back for the last time. Hurry now, willing hands! Already the bow of the sinking steamer is buried beneath the waves. Another moment or two, and it will be too late. Only a few feet more. Speed, speed, life buoy! She reaches the rail. Eager hands draw the two last voyagers over and cut the now useless life line. As the men step to the deck of the _Fearless_ the wreck, with one more convulsive shiver, plunges to her last resting place, but, thank God, with not one soul left upon her. All are saved, and Bert, overcome, bows his head upon his arms, and again thanks heaven for the wireless. Once more it has wrought a miracle and plucked a host of precious lives from the maw of the ravenous sea. CHAPTER X THE DERELICT "Beat this if you can, fellows," said Tom, as, next morning, lazily stretched in his steamer chair on the deck of the _Fearless_, his eyes took in with delight the broad expanse of the ocean, with its heaving, green billows, capped with feathery foam of dazzling whiteness; the arching blue of the heavens, across which floated soft, gray clouds, which, pierced through and through by the brilliant sunshine, seemed as transparent as a gossamer veil. A sea-gull, rising suddenly from the crest of a wave, soared high with gracefully waving wings; then suddenly turning, swooped downward with the speed of an arrow, disappearing for a moment beneath the wave, rose again, triumphant, with a fish in its talons, and swept majestically skyward. Fountains of spray cast up by the swiftly moving ship gleamed and flashed in the sunshine and fell to the deck in myriad diamonds. Tom's pleasure was fully shared by his comrades, and surely in contrast to the storm and stress and darkness of yesterday, the sunshine and calm and beauty of this matchless day was enough to fill them with keenest delight. The swift motion of the good ship that had so gallantly weathered the terrible storm, the sea air which, freighted with salt spray as it rushed against their faces made the flesh tingle, the brilliant sunshine,--all combined to make this one of the happiest mornings of their lives. From sheer exuberance of joy Dick started singing "A life on the ocean wave," in which the others joined. As the last notes died away they began to talk of yesterday's storm. Something that Tom said reminded Dick of an exciting sea story he had read, and, complying with Tom's eager "Tell us about it," he was soon in the midst of the yarn, the boys listening with eager delight. Others, seeing their absorbed interest, drifted up until Dick had quite an audience of interested listeners. This story was followed by others, and one of the passengers had just finished describing the very narrow escape of a boatload of sailors who were being drawn to destruction by the dying struggles of an enormous whale which they had harpooned, when Bert, who, while he listened, had been idly watching a sail which had appeared above the horizon, suddenly sprang to his feet in great excitement and drew everybody's attention. "What is it? what is it?" cried Tom, catching the excitement and also springing to his feet. "Why," Bert answered, "look at that ship to starboard. I've been watching her for some time and she acts differently from any ship I ever saw. At first she seemed to be sailing a little distance and then back again in a sort of zig-zag course, but just a minute ago she turned side-on toward us, and now she looks as if she were veering from one point of the compass to another without any attempt at steering." Following his gaze, all saw with intense surprise the ship, as Bert had said, apparently without guidance and drifting aimlessly. After the first moments of startled silence, exclamations and questions broke forth on all sides. "Well, well, what a most extraordinary thing!" "What ship can she be?" "She looks like a schooner." "Why does she drift in that aimless fashion?" "What can be the matter with her?" By this time glasses had been brought. Eager eyes scanned the strange ship from stem to stern, and one of the gazers exclaimed: "She certainly doesn't seem to have anyone at her wheel. She is evidently at the mercy of the sea." This set everyone to talking at once and the greatest excitement reigned. Everyone crowded to the side of the ship to get a better view. The stranger seemed to be about three miles away, but, as the distance lessened between her and the _Fearless_, the excitement on board increased, and as, even with the glasses, no sign of living creature could be seen, the sense of mystery deepened. When, at last, the captain announced that he would send a boat out to speak the strange ship, a murmur of satisfaction was heard on every side. At the call for volunteers there was no lack of response and our boys were among them. It was with breathless delight that they heard their names called, and tumbled with others into the boat. "Here's luck," Dick exulted as he scrambled to his place. The others agreed with him. But, if they had expected a pleasure trip, they were quickly undeceived. Standing on the deck of a great ship like the _Fearless_ is a very different thing from sitting in a small boat, with the waves which, from the ship's deck had looked only moderately large, now piling up into a great, green wall in front of them, looking as if it must inevitably fall upon and crush them. That the wave did not conquer them, but that the boat mounted to the top of it, seemed little short of a miracle; and then, after poising for a moment at the top, the plunge down the other side of that green wall, seemed an equally sure way to destruction. They were glad indeed to remember that the boat was in the hands of experienced and capable seamen. Altogether, they were not sorry when, by the slowing up of the speed, they knew that they were nearing their goal and saw the ship that had so interested them looming up before them. Her name, _The Aurora_, flashed at them in great golden letters from her prow. She was a fair-sized schooner in first-class condition outwardly, and calling for a crew of eighteen or twenty beside the captain and officers; but, where were they now? Sure enough, there was no one at the wheel nor anywhere about the decks. Were they below? If so, what was the desperate need or urgent business that could hold officers and crew below decks while their ship, unguarded, her rudder banging noisily back and forth, lay, uncontrolled, upon the waves? Well, they from the _Fearless_ were here to answer these questions if they could, and preparations were made to go on board. As they drew closer they realized that it was going to be a very difficult task to gain her deck. With the wheel unmanned she broached to and fro with every current and wave motion, and, constantly veering from point to point, made it seemingly impossible to mount her decks. A little assistance from on board would have helped them greatly, but, though they hailed her again and again, she made no response. After repeated unsuccessful efforts one of the sailors, more agile than the others, succeeded in springing into and grasping the rudder chains, and hauling himself on deck. Catching up a rope that lay near him, he cast it to his shipmates and, by easing and adjusting the boat as much as possible to the erratic heaving and plunging of the ship, made it possible for the others to climb on board. Very soon all, except two sailors who, much to their disgust, were left in charge of the boat, were standing together on the steamer's deck. With bated breath they stood for many minutes, looking about them in wide-eyed amazement, but, as if by common instinct, not an audible sound was heard, nor even a whispered word. A silence so intense as to make itself felt, a sense of overwhelming loneliness and solitude held them motionless. It was as if they stood in the presence of the dead. Here was the body, this big schooner, but the soul had fled. The rush of feet, the quick word of command, the hearty "Aye, aye, sir," in response, the noise of gear and tackle, of ropes slapping on the deck, the songs of the sailors as they go lustily about their work,--all the sounds that make up the life of a ship were stilled, and no sound but the splashing of the waves against her sides broke the awesome silence. At last, under the direction of Mr. Collins, four men from the _Fearless_ began to search the deck for some solution of the mystery, and not one among them was conscious of the fact that he moved about on his toes in the presence of this awe-inspiring silence. Their search of the deck revealed nothing. Everything seemed undisturbed. The life-boats and even the little dinghy were in their places. All was perfectly ship-shape, but over everything was the silence of desertion. While the deck was being searched by the four men, the others, including Bert and Dick and Tom, went below, for, here in the cabin, they hoped to find some solution of the mystery. But again they found the same chilling silence, the same absolute desertion. In the state-rooms the bunks were made up and all was in order. An uncompleted letter lay on the captain's table and an open book lay face-downward on the bed. In the cabin the only sign of haste or disturbance was found. The table was set for breakfast with the food upon it only partly eaten. Chairs were pushed back from it and one was overturned. A handkerchief lay on the floor as if hastily dropped, but there was no further sign of panic or of any struggle. Someone suggested that the storm had driven them away in panic. Mr. Collins soon proved to them the fallacy of that supposition by calling attention to an unfinished garment which lay on a sewing machine in one of the state-rooms. A thimble and spool of cotton lay beside it. In a storm these things would inevitably have been thrown to the floor. He showed them further that the breakfast things on the table were in their places and not overturned as they must have been in the storm. Then, too, the coffee in the urn was barely cold, and the fire in the galley stove was still burning. This proved conclusively that up to almost the last moment before the desertion of the ship, all was normal and peaceful on board. "And," he continued, "if there were nothing else the last entry in the ship's log would show that she was not deserted until after the storm." While everyone listened with keenest interest, he read them the account entered there of the storm, the gallant behavior of the _Aurora_, and the safety of all on board. The entry was made with the kind of ink that writes blue but afterwards turns black, and the officer called their attention to the fact that the ink was not yet black. "Why," said he, "they must at this moment be only a very few miles from the ship. Did anyone ever hear of anything like this?" wondered Dick. "Such a little while ago, and absolutely nothing to show why they went. I'd give a whole lot to know." "Well, anyway, it is evident," said Bert as they examined the galley, "that it was not hunger or thirst that drove them away," and he pointed to the shelves of the pantry, well stocked with meats and vegetables and fruits, and lifted the cover from the water tank and showed it full of sweet water. With the feeling of wonder and amazement growing upon them, they examined every corner of the ship from deck to hold, but found no sign of living creature, nor any clue to the profound mystery. Cold shivers began to run up and down their spines. "What on earth or sea," said the irrepressible Tom, voicing the inmost thought of every mind, "could have driven a company of men to abandon a ship in such perfect condition as this schooner is?" and again all stood silent in a last effort to solve the problem. "Well," said Mr. Collins, "we have made a most thorough search and nothing can be gained by remaining here longer." So, only waiting to procure the ship's log that he had laid upon the table, he led the way to the deck. With a last look about them, in the vain hope of finding some living creature, they clambered into the boat and rowed back to the _Fearless_. On the way over, everyone was too oppressed for further conversation, but as they neared the _Fearless_ their faces brightened; and as they stood once more upon her decks, with the eager people crowding about them, it seemed good, after the desolation they had witnessed, to be on board a live ship once more. "This is surely a most wonderful and mysterious thing," said the captain, after listening to their report. "What could have driven them to such a desperate measure as abandoning a ship in sound condition and so well provisioned? Was it mutiny?" "No, sir," and the mate shook his head. "I thought of that and we searched the ship for any signs of a struggle or bloodshed; but there was no evidence of fighting nor a drop of blood anywhere." "Was there, perhaps, a leak?" again suggested the captain. "Not that we could find," Dick answered. "The ship seemed as tight and safe as could be. We are sure there is no leak." "What do you think about it?" asked Captain Manning, turning to a very grave and thoughtful gentleman standing near. This was Captain Grant who the day before had so nobly stood by his ill-fated ship and to whose rescue and that of his unfortunate passengers the _Fearless_ had come with not a minute to spare. Captain Manning had found him very congenial, and in the few hours since he had come on board the two gentlemen had become firm friends. At Captain Manning's question he turned to him cordially and answered with a smile: "Well, as far as the crew are concerned, it might have been superstition, fear of ghosts perhaps. This unreasoning fear has driven more than one crew bodily from their ship." "If that was the cause," ventured Bert, "is it not possible that their panic may leave them, and that they may return?" "It is possible," agreed Captain Manning, smiling, "and we will cruise about as soon as I can make preparation. We may be able to overtake them or perhaps meet them returning." "Was her cargo a valuable one?" asked one of Captain Grant's passengers. "Yes, quite," was the response, "but not so valuable as it would have been if she had been homeward instead of outward bound. The log shows her to be of Canadian construction and bound from Vancouver to China with a cargo of dried fish, skins, and lumber. If she had been returning she would have been freighted, as you know, with rich silks and tea and rice, of more value than the cargo she carried from British Columbia." "Shall you attempt to return her to her owners?" asked Mr. Collins. "A schooner like the _Aurora_ would mean a large salvage." "It certainly would," replied the captain, "and, if we had found her earlier in the voyage, I should have towed her back. But now I cannot afford the time, and I hardly know what to do. She ought not to be left drifting; she is right in the track of steamships, and so is a menace. Wilson," he said, turning to Bert, "try to raise a United States vessel and give her the location of the derelict." It took two hours before Bert succeeded, but at last he reached the cruiser _Cormorant_ and received thanks for the information and assurance that the matter would be attended to at once. By this time all was ready and the _Fearless_ began to cruise in ever-widening circles around the _Aurora_. With and without glasses all scanned the sea in every direction for signs of a boat. Once the call of the lookout drew all eyes to a dark object which, at that distance, looked as if it might be a yawl, and every heart beat faster with the hope that at last the mystery of the _Aurora_ might be solved. But, alas, it was found to be only a piece of broken mast, discarded from some ship. For several hours they cruised about, filled with eager hope which gradually faded as the hours went by. At last, Captain Manning gave the order, and the _Fearless_ again came about to her course. Everyone turned disappointedly from the rail as the quest was abandoned, and it seemed to the four young fellows that the _Fearless_ swung slowly and reluctantly, as if she disliked to leave her sister ship to such an uncertain fate. The good ship gathered speed, and as they stood at the rail, Ralph thoughtfully said, "I wonder if the mystery of that deserted ship will ever be made clear." "Well," said Bert, "when we return we can ascertain if she lived to reach port." "Yes," grumbled Tom. "But unless some of the crew had returned before the government ship reached her the mystery would be as profound as ever. And," he added, sinking disgustedly into his steamer chair, and stretching himself out lazily, "I do hate mysteries." CHAPTER XI THE TIGER AT BAY One day, about mid-afternoon, Bert was going through his duties in a more or less mechanical fashion, for the day had been warm, and he had been on duty since early morning. For several days past, practically no news of any interest had come in over the invisible aerial pathways, and as he had said to Dick only a short time before, "everything was deader than a door nail." Suddenly, however, the sounder began to click in a most unusual fashion. The clicks were very erratic, quick, and short, and to Bert's experienced ear it was apparent that the person sending the message was in a state of great excitement. He hastily adjusted the clamp that held the receiver to his ear, and at the first few words of the message his heart leapt with excitement. "Tiger broken loose," came the message, in uneven spurts and dashes, "three of crew dead or dying--am shut up in wireless room--beast is sniffing at door--help us if you can--" and then followed, latitude and longitude of the unlucky vessel. Bert's hand leaped to the sender, and the powerful spark went crashing out from the wires. "Will come at once--keep up courage," he sent, and then snatched the apparatus off his head and rushed in mad haste to the deck. Captain Manning was below deck, and Bert communicated the message he had just received to the commanding officer at the time. "Good heavens," ejaculated the first officer, "there's only one thing for us to do, and that's to go to their aid just as fast as this old tub will take us." This was no sooner said than done, and in a few minutes the course of the vessel was changed, and she was headed in the direction of the distressed animal ship, for there could be little doubt that such was the nature of the cargo she had on board. It is not such an uncommon thing for a wild animal to break loose during a voyage, but generally it is recaptured with little trouble. Occasionally, however, an especially ferocious animal will escape, and at the very outset kill or maim the men especially employed to take care of them. Once let this happen, and the crew has little chance against such an enemy. Nothing much more terrible could be imagined than such a situation, and such was the plight in which the crew of the animal ship found themselves. They had made several vain attempts to trap the big tiger, but at each attempt one of their number had been caught and killed by the ferocious beast, until in a panic they had retreated to the forecastle, taking with them the first mate, who had been seriously injured by the murderous claws of the tiger as they were trying to cast a noose around his neck. Left without management, their ship was at the mercy of wind and wave, with no living creature on deck save the big cat. He had vainly tried to break into the men's quarters, and failing in that, had laid siege to the cabin of the wireless operator. The door of this was fragile, however, and although the desperate man within had piled every article of furniture in the room against the door, there could be little doubt that it was but a matter of time when the maddened tiger would make use of his vast strength and burst in the frail barrier. Such was the situation on board when, as a last resource, the devoted operator sent out the call for help that Bert had heard. The knowledge that help was at least on the way gave heart to the imprisoned and almost despairing man, and he waited for the rescuing ship to arrive with all the fortitude he could muster. Meanwhile, on Bert's ship, Captain Manning had been summoned to the bridge, and had immediately ordered full steam ahead. The ship quivered and groaned as the steam rushed at high pressure into the cylinders, causing the great propellers to turn as though they had been but toys. Great clouds of black smoke poured from the funnel, and the ship forged ahead at a greater speed than her crew had ever supposed her capable of making. Fast as was their progress, however, it seemed but a crawl to the anxious group gathered on the bridge, and Bert went below to send an encouraging message to the unfortunate operator on the other ship. Crash! crash! and the powerful current crackled and flashed from the wires. "Keep up courage," was the message Bert sent, "keep up courage, and we will get help to you soon. Are about ten knots from you now." For a few minutes there was no reply, and, when the receiver finally clicked, Bert could hardly catch the answer, so faint was it. "The dynamo has stopped," it read, "and batteries are almost exhausted. Heard shouting from the crew's quarters a short time ago, and think the tiger is probably trying to break in there. A--few minutes--more--" but here the sounder ceased, and Bert, in spite of his frantic efforts, was unable to get another word, good or bad. Finally, giving the attempt up as hopeless, he made his way to the bridge, where Captain Manning and the first officer were absorbed over a chart. "We can't be very far from them now, sir," the latter was saying. "At the rate this old boat's going now we ought to sight them pretty soon, don't you think so, sir?" "We surely should," replied the captain. "But I wonder if Wilson has heard any more from them. As long as--ah, here you are, eh, Mr. Wilson? What's the latest news from the distressed vessel?" "Pretty bad, sir," said Bert. "The crew seems to have become panic-stricken, including the engine-room force, and they've allowed the dynamo to stop. The wireless man didn't have enough current left from the batteries to finish the message he was sending. He did say, though, that the tiger was raising a rumpus up forward, and trying to break into the men's quarters. I can only hope, sir, that we will not arrive too late." "I hope so, indeed," responded Captain Manning, gloomily, "but even if we get there before the beast has gotten at them, we'll have our work cut out for us. We have no adequate weapons on board, and we can't hope to cope with a foe like that barehanded." "That's very true," said the first officer, scratching his head. "I rather had a feeling that all we had to do was to get there and kill the tiger, but I must confess I hadn't figured out how. However," he added, "I've got a brace of pistols in my cabin, and I suppose you have, too, haven't you, sir?" addressing the captain. "Oh, of course I have them," said the captain, impatiently, "but they're not much good in an affair of this kind. What we need is a big game rifle, and that's something we haven't got. However, I imagine we'll hit on some plan after we get there. Set your wits to work, Mr. Wilson, and see if you can't figure out a scheme. You have always struck me as being pretty ingenious." "Well, I'll do my best, you may be sure of that, sir," replied Bert, "but meanwhile, I guess I'd better go below and see if by any chance they have got their wireless working again." "Aye, aye," said the captain, "see what you can do, and I'll see that you are informed when we get near the vessel." Bert did as he had proposed, but could get no response from his apparatus, and was just giving over the attempt as hopeless when he got a message from the captain that they were close up to the unfortunate ship. Hastily unfastening the "harness" from his head, Bert rushed on deck, and gave a quick look about him. Sure enough, they were close aboard a rusty-looking steamer, that drifted aimlessly about, and at first glance seemed to have no living soul aboard. The deck was untenanted and showed no signs of life, and the silence was unbroken save for an occasional cry from the caged animals in the hold. Of the tiger said to be loose on board there was no indication, however, but they soon made out a colored handkerchief waving from one of the portholes that afforded light and ventilation to the "fo'castle." Presently they heard someone shouting to them, but were unable to make out what was said. Captain Manning ordered a boat lowered, and carefully picked the men whom he desired to go in it. When he had chosen almost his full crew, Bert hurried up to him, and said: "I beg your pardon, sir, but I would like to ask you a favor. Do you think you could allow me and my friend, Mr. Trent, to go along? I think we could do our share of what's to be done, and I feel that I ought to be among the party that goes in aid of a fellow operator." At first the captain would not hear of any such proposition, but finally, by dint of much persuasion, Bert won a reluctant consent. "All right," grumbled the captain. "If you must, you must, I suppose. But hurry up now. Step lively! All hands ready?" "Aye, aye, sir," sang out the crew, and after a few parting instructions from Captain Manning, the first officer, Mr. Collins, shouted the order to give way. The crew bent to their oars with a will, and the heavy boat fairly leaped through the water at their sturdy strokes. In almost less time than it takes to tell, the boat was under the porthole from which they had first seen the signals, and Mr. Collins was talking in a low voice with a white-faced man who peered out of the circular opening. "He almost had us a little time back," said the latter, "but we managed to make enough noise to scare him away for the time. We haven't heard anything of him for quite a while now, but he's hungry, and he'll soon be back. Heaven help us, then, if you fellows can't do something for us." "We'll get him, all right, never fear," said Mr. Collins, reassuringly, "but how do you stand now? How many did the beast get before you got away from him?" "He killed the three animal keepers almost at one swipe," said the man, who proved to be the second mate. "Then the captain, as was a brave man, stood up to him with an old gun he used to keep in his cabin, and the beast crushed his head in before he could get the old thing to work. It must have missed fire, I guess. Then the brute started creeping toward us as was on deck, and we made a rush for the fo'castle door. The first officer happened to be the last one in, and the tiger just caught his arm with his claws and ripped it open to the bone. We managed to drag him in and slam the door in the beast's face, though, and then we piled everything we could lay hand to against the door." "What did he do then?" inquired Mr. Collins. "Why, he went ragin' back and made a dive for one of the stokers that was up at the engine-room hatchway gettin' a bit of fresh air, and he almost nabbed him. The dago dived below, though, and had sense enough to drop a grating after him. That stopped the cursed brute, and then I don't know what he did for a while. Just a little while ago, though, as I was tellin' ye, he came sniffin' and scratchin' around the door, and if he made a real hard try he'd get in, sure. Then it 'ud be good-night for us. Not one of us would get out of here alive." "But now that he's left you for a time, why don't you make an attempt to trap or kill him?" inquired Mr. Collins, and there was a little contempt in his tone. "What, us? Never in a hundred years," replied the man, in a scared voice. It was evident that the crew was completely unnerved, and Mr. Collins and his crew realized that if anything was to be done they must do it unaided. "Well, here goes," said he. "We might as well get on that deck first as last. We'll never get anywhere by sitting here and talking." Accordingly, they clambered up on deck, one by one, led by the first mate. In a short time they were all safely on deck, and looked around, their hearts beating wildly, for any sign of the ferocious animal. As far as any evidences of his presence went, however, the nearest tiger might have been in Africa. There was a deathlike hush over the ship, broken at times by the muffled chattering of the monkeys confined in cages below decks. All the men were armed with the best weapons they were able to obtain, consisting chiefly of heavy iron bars requisitioned from the engine-room. Mr. Curtis, of course, had a pair of heavy revolvers, and both Bert and Dick had each a serviceable .45-calibre Colt. These were likely to prove of little avail against such an opponent, however, and more than one of the crew wished he were safely back on the deck of his own ship. Not so Bert and Dick, however, and their eyes danced and sparkled from excitement. "Say," whispered Dick in Bert's ear, "talk about the adventures of that fellow you and I were reading about a day or two ago. This promises to outdo anything that _I_ ever heard of." "It sure does," said Bert, in the same suppressed voice. "I wonder where that beast can be hiding himself. This suspense is getting on my nerves." All the rescuing party felt the same way, but the tiger obstinately refused to put in an appearance. The men started on an exploring expedition, beginning at the bow and working toward the stern. At every step they took, the probability of their presently stumbling on the animal became more imminent, and their nerves were keyed to the breaking point. In this manner they traversed almost two-thirds of the deck, and were about to round the end of the long row of staterooms when suddenly, without a moment's warning, the tiger stood before them, not thirty feet away. At first he seemed to be surprised, but as the men watched him, fascinated, they could see his cruel yellow eyes gradually change to black, and hear a low rumble issue from his throat. For a few seconds not one of them seemed able to move a hand, but then Mr. Curtis yelled, "Now's your time, boys. Empty your revolvers into him, Wilson and Crawford," and suiting the action to the word, he opened fire on the great cat. Bert and Dick did likewise, but in their excitement most of their shots went wild, and only wounded the now thoroughly infuriated animal. With a roar that fairly shook the ship the tiger leapt toward the hardy group. "Back! Back!" shouted Mr. Collins, and they retreated hastily. The tiger just fell short of them, but quickly gathered himself for another spring, and two of the more faint-hearted seamen started to run toward the bow. Indeed, it was a situation to daunt the heart of the bravest man, but Bert and the others who retained their self-control knew that it was now too late to retreat, and their only course, desperate as it seemed, was to stand their ground and subdue the raging beast if possible. The tiger's rage was truly a terrible thing to see. As he stood facing them, foam dripped from his jaws, and great rumblings issued from his throat. His tail lashed back and forth viciously, and he began creeping along the deck toward them. But now Bert and Dick and the first mate had had a chance, in frantic haste, to load their revolvers, and they gripped the butts of their weapons in a convulsive grasp. And they had need of all they could muster. Soon the tiger judged he was near enough for a spring, and stopping, gathered his great muscles under him in tense knots. Then he sprang through the air like a bolt from a cross-bow, and this time they had no chance to retreat. As the raging beast landed among them, the men scattered to left and right, and struck out with the heavy iron bars they had brought with them. They dodged this way and that, evading the tiger's ripping claws and snapping teeth as best they could, and landing a blow whenever the opportunity offered. They were not to escape unscathed from such an encounter, however, and again and again shouts of pain arose from those unable to avoid the raving beast. Bert and Dick waited until the tiger's attention was concentrated on three of the men who were making a concerted attack on him, and then, at almost point blank range, emptied their revolvers into the beast's head. At almost the same moment the first mate followed suit, and the tiger stopped in his struggles, and stood stupidly wagging his head from side to side, while bloody foam slavered and dripped from his jaws. Then he gradually slumped down on the reddened deck, and finally lay still, with once or twice a convulsive shiver running over him. Quickly reloading their revolvers, Bert, Dick, and the first mate delivered another volley at the prostrate beast, so as to take no chances. Every muscle in the animal's beautiful body relaxed, his great head rolled limply over on to the deck, and it was evident that he was dead. A cheer arose from the men, but their attention was quickly turned to themselves, and with good reason. Not one of them had escaped a more or less painful wound from the great beast's tearing claws, one or two of which threatened to become serious. Both Bert and Dick had deep, painful scratches about the arms and shoulders, but they felt glad enough to escape with only these souvenirs of the desperate encounter. "Well, men," said Mr. Collins, after they had bound up their wounds temporarily, and were limping back toward their boat, "I think we can thank our lucky stars that we got off as easily as we did. When that fellow jumped for us the second time, I for one never expected to come out of the mix-up alive." "I, either," said Bert. "I like excitement about as well as anybody, I guess, but this job of fighting tigers with nothing but a revolver is a little too rich for me. The next time I try it I'll want to pack a cannon along." "Righto!" said Dick, with a laugh that was a trifle shaky. "But what are we going to do now? I suppose the first thing is to let those low-lives out of the forecastle and tell 'em we've fixed their tiger for them." "We might as well," acquiesced Mr. Collins, and they lost no time in following out Dick's suggestion. Before they reached the forecastle they were joined by the two men who had run at the tiger's second onslaught, and you may be sure they looked thoroughly ashamed of themselves. The men who had stood fast realized that reproaches would do no good, however, and they were so exhilarated over their victory, now that they began to realize just what they had accomplished, that they were not inclined to indulge in recriminations. They could come later. They were about to resume their march to the crew's quarters when Dick happened to notice that Bert was missing. The men all started out in search of him, but their anxiety was soon relieved by seeing Bert return accompanied by a man whom he presently introduced to them as the wireless operator. The latter was profuse in his expressions of gratitude, but Bert refused point blank to listen to him. "It's no more than you would have done for us, if you had had the chance," he said, "therefore, thanks are entirely out of order." "Not a bit of it," persisted the other, warmly. "It was a mighty fine thing for you fellows to do, and, believe me, I, for one, will never forget it." By now they were in front of the fo'castle, and shouted out to the men within that they could come out with safety. There was a great noise of objects within being pulled away from the door, and then the crew of the animal ship emerged in a rather sheepish manner, for they realized that they had not played a very heroic part. However, they had had very little in the way of weapons, and perhaps their conduct might be palliated by this fact. Two of them immediately set to work skinning the tiger, and meantime the wounded first mate of the animal ship expressed his thanks and that of the crew to Mr. Collins. Then the limping, smarting little band clambered over the side and into their waiting boat. The row back to the ship seemed to consume an age, but you may be sure that the two sailors who had escaped the conflict were now forced to do most of the hard work, and they did not even attempt to object, no doubt realizing the hopelessness of such a course. They reached their ship at last, however, and were greeted with praise from the passengers on account of their bravery, and sympathy over their many and painful wounds. After Mr. Collins had made his report to the captain, the latter shook his head gravely. "Perhaps I did wrong in letting you undertake such a task," he said, "but I don't know what else we could have done. Heaven knows how long it would have taken any other vessel to get here, and after they arrived they might not have had any greater facilities for meeting such a situation than we had. But I'm very glad we got out of the predicament without actual loss of life." "We were very fortunate, indeed," agreed Mr. Collins, and here they dropped the subject, for among men who habitually followed a dangerous calling even such an adventure as this does not seem such a very unusual occurrence. Bert was not so seriously wounded as to make it impossible to resume his duties, however, and after a few days his wounds gave him no further trouble. Needless to say, the remembrance of the desperate adventure never entirely left his mind to the end of his life, and for weeks afterward he would wake from a troubled sleep seeing again in his imagination the infuriated tiger as it had looked when leaping at the devoted group. CHAPTER XII AMONG THE CANNIBALS The routine life of shipboard wore quietly on for several days without interruption. The staunch ship held steadily on its course, and the ceaseless vibrations of its engines came to be as unnoticed and as unthought of as the beatings of their own hearts. There had been no storms for some time, as indeed there seldom were at this time of the year, and Bert's duties as wireless operator occupied comparatively little of his time. He had plenty left, therefore, to spend with Dick and Tom, and they had little trouble in finding a way to occupy their leisure with pleasure and profit to themselves and others. A favorite resort was the engine room, where in spite of the heat they spent many a pleasant hour in company with the chief engineer, MacGregor. The latter was a shaggy old Scotchman with a most stern and forbidding exterior, but a heart underneath that took a warm liking to the three comrades, much to the surprise and disgust of the force of stokers and "wipers" under him. "And phwat do yez think of the old man?" one was heard to remark to his companion one day. "There was a toime when the chief 'ud look sour and grumble if the cap'n himself so much as poked his nose inside the engine room gratin', and now here he lets thim young spalpeens run all ovir the place, wid never a kick out o' him." "Sure, an' Oi've ben noticin' the same," agreed his companion, "an' phwat's more, he answers all their questions wid good natur', and nivir seems to have ony desire to dhrop a wrinch on their noodles." "Perhaps 'tis because the youngsters ask him nothin' but sinsible questions, as ye may have noticed," said he who had spoken first, as he leaned on his shovel for a brief rest. "Shure, an' it's me private opinion that the young cubs know 'most as much about the engines as old Mac himsilf." "Thrue fer you," said the other. "Only yisterday, if O'im not mistaken, young Wilson, him as runs the wireless outfit for the ship, was down here, and they were havin' a argyment regardin' the advantages of the reciprocatin' engines over the new steam turbins, an' roast me in me own furnace if I don't think the youngster had the goods on the old man right up t' the finish." "Oi wouldn't be su'prised at ahl, at ahl," agreed his companion. "The young felly has a head for engines, an' no mistake. He's got a lot o' book larnin' about 'em, too." It was indeed as the stokers said, and a strong friendship and mutual regard had sprung up between the grizzled old engineer and the enthusiastic wireless operator. As our readers doubtless remember, Bert had been familiar with things mechanical since boyhood, and during his college course had kept up his knowledge by a careful reading of the latest magazines and periodicals given over to mechanical research. Needless to say, his ideas were all most modern, while on the part of the chief engineer there was a tendency to stick to the tried and tested things of mechanics and fight very shy of all inventions and innovations. However, each realized that the other knew what he was talking about, and each had a respect for the opinions of the other. This did not prevent their having long arguments at times, however, in which a perfect shower and deluge of technical words and descriptions filled the air. It seldom happened, though, that either caused the other to alter his original stand in the slightest degree, as is generally the case in all arguments of any sort. But the engineer was always ready to explain things about the ponderous engines that Bert did not fully understand, and there were constant problems arising from Bert's inspection of the beautifully made machinery that only the engineer, of all on board, could solve for him. Bert always found a fascination in watching the powerful engines and would sit for hours at a time, when he was at leisure, watching each ingenious part do its work, with an interest that never flagged. He loved to study the movements of the mighty pistons as they rose and fell like the arm of some immense giant, and speculate on the terrific power employed in every stroke. The shining, smooth, well-oiled machinery seemed more beautiful to Bert than any picture he had ever seen, and the regular click and chug of the valves was music. Every piece of brass, nickel and steel work in the engine room was spotlessly clean, and glittered and flickered in the glow from the electric lights. Sometimes he and MacGregor would sit in companionable silence for an hour at a time, listening to the hiss of steam as it rushed into the huge cylinders, and was then expelled on the upward stroke of the piston. MacGregor loved his engines as he might a pet cat or dog, and often patted them lovingly when he was sure nobody was around to observe his actions. Once the engineer had taken Bert back along the course of the big propeller shaft to where it left the ship, water being prevented from leaking in around the opening by means of stuffing boxes. At intervals the shaft was supported by bearings made of bronze, and as they passed them the old man always passed his hand over them to find out if by any chance one was getting warm on account of the friction caused by lack of proper lubrication. "For it's an afu' thing," he said to Bert, shaking his head, "to have a shaft break when you're in the ragin' midst of a storm. It happened to me once, an' the second vayage I evir took as chief engineer, and I hae no desire t' repeat the experience." "What did you do about it?" inquired Bert. "We did the anly thing there was to be done, son. We set the whole engine room force drillin' holes thrae the big shaft, and then we riveted a wee snug collar on it, and proceeded on our way. Two days and two nights we were at it, with the puir bonnie ship driftin' helpless, an' the great waves nigh breakin' in her sides. Never a wink o' sleep did I get during the hale time, and none of the force under me got much more. Ye may believe it was a fair happy moment for all of us when we eased the steam into the low pressure cylinder and saw that the job was like to hold until we got tae port. Nae, nae, one experience like thot is sufficient tae hold a mon a lifetime." "I should think it would be," said Bert. "You generally hear a lot about the romantic side of accidents at sea, but I guess the people actually mixed up in them look at the matter from a different point of view." "Nae doot, nae doot," agreed the old Scotsman, "and what credit do ye suppose we got for all our work? The papers were full o' the bravery and cael headedness the skipper had exhibited, but what o' us poor deils wha' had sweated and slaved twae mortal day an nichts in a swelterin', suffercatin' hold, whi' sure death for us gin anything sprang a leak and the ship sank? Wae'd a' had nae chanct t' git on deck and in a boat. Wae'd have been drounded like wee rats in a trap. I prasume nobody thocht o' that, howiver." "That's the way it generally works out, I've noticed," said Bert. "Of course, many times the captain does deserve much or all the credit, but the newspapers never take the trouble to find out the facts. You can bet your case wasn't the first of the kind that ever occurred." "'Tis as you say," agreed the engineer; "but nae we must back to the engine room, me laddie. I canna feel easy when I am far frae it." Accordingly they retraced their course, and were soon back in the room where the machinery toiled patiently day and night, never groaning or complaining when taken proper care of, as you may be sure these engines were. MacGregor would have preferred to have somebody make a slighting remark about him than about his idolized engines, and would have been less quick to resent it. Bert was about to take his leave, when suddenly Tom and Dick came tumbling recklessly down the steep ladder leading to the engine room, and fairly fell down the last few rounds. "Say, Bert, beat it up on deck," exclaimed Tom, as soon as he was able to get his breath. "We sighted an island an hour or so ago, and as we get nearer to it we can see that there's a signal of some sort on it. Captain Manning says that none of the islands hereabout are inhabited, so it looks as though somebody had been shipwrecked there. The skipper's ordered the course changed so as to head straight toward it, and we ought to be within landing distance in less than an hour." "Hooray!" yelled Bert. "I'll give you a race up, fellows, and see who gets on deck first," and so saying he made a dive for the ladder. Dick and Tom made a rush to intercept him, but Bert beat them by a fraction of an inch, and went up the steep iron ladder with as much agility as any monkey. The others were close at his heels, however, and in less time than it takes to tell they were all on deck. Dick and Tom pointed out the island to Bert, and there, sure enough, he saw what appeared to be a remnant of some flag nailed to an upright branch planted in the ground. They were not more than a mile from the island by this time, and soon Captain Manning rang the gong for half speed ahead. A few moments later he gave the signal to shut off power, and the vibration of the ship's engines ceased abruptly. The sudden stopping of the vibration to which by now they had become so accustomed that it seemed part of life came almost like a blow to the three young men, and they were obliged to laugh. "Gee, but that certainly seems queer," said Tom. "It seems to me as though I must have been used to that jarring all my life." "Well," said Dick, "it certainly feels unusual now, but I will be perfectly willing to exchange it for a little trip on good, solid land. I hope we can persuade the captain to let us go ashore with the men." The captain's consent was easily obtained, and they then awaited impatiently for the boat to be launched that was to take them to the island. The island was surrounded by a coral reef, in which at first there appeared to be no opening. On closer inspection, however, when they had rowed close up to it, they found a narrow entrance, that they would never have been able to use had the water been at all rough. Fortunately, however, the weather had been very calm for several days past, so they had little difficulty in manoeuvering the boat through the narrow opening. As it was, however, once or twice they could hear the sharp coral projections scrape against the boat's sides, and they found time even in their impatience to land to wonder what would happen to any ship unfortunate enough to be tossed against the reef. After they had passed the reef all was clear sailing, and a few moments later the boat grated gently on a sloping beach of dazzling white sand, and the sailor in the bow leapt ashore and drew the boat a little way up on the beach. Then they all jumped out and stood scanning what they could see of the place for some sign of life other than that of the signal they had seen from the ship. This now hung limply down around the pole, and no sound was to be heard save the lap of the waves against the reef and an occasional bird note from the rim of trees that began where the white sand ended. The green trees and vegetation stood out in sharp relief contrasted with the white beach and the azure sky, and the three boys felt a tingle of excitement run through their veins. Here was just such a setting for adventures and romance as they had read about often in books, but had hardly dared ever hope to see. This might be an island where Captain Kidd had made his headquarters and buried priceless treasure, some of which at that moment might lie under the sand on which they were standing. The green jungle in front of them might contain any number of adventures and hair-raising exploits ready to the hand of any one who came to seek, and at the thought the spirits of all three kindled. "This is the chance of a lifetime, fellows," said Bert, in a low voice, "if we don't get some excitement out of this worth remembering, I think it will be our own fault." "That's what," agreed Dick, "why in time don't we get busy and do something. We won't find the person who put up that signal by standing here and talking. I want to make a break for those trees and see what we can find there." "Same here," said Tom, "and I guess we're going to do something at last, by the looks of things." Mr. Miller, the second mate, who had been placed in charge of the party, had indeed arrived at a decision, and now made it known to the whole group. "I think the best thing we can do," he said, "is to skirt the forest there and see if we can find anything that looks like a path or trail. If there's any living thing on this island it must have left some sort of a trace." This was done accordingly, and in a short time they were walking along the edge of the jungle, each one straining his eyes for any indication of a trail. At first they met with no success, but finally Tom gave a whoop. "Here we are," he yelled, "here's a path, or something that looks a whole lot like one, leading straight into the forest. Come along, fellows," and he started on a run along an almost obliterated trail that everybody else had overlooked. You may be sure Bert and Dick were not far behind him, and were soon following close on his heels. After they had gone a short distance in this reckless fashion they were forced to slow down on account of the heat, which was overpowering. Also, as they advanced, the underbrush became thicker and thicker, and it soon became difficult to make any progress at all. Great roots and vines grew in tangled luxuriance across the path, and more than once one of them tripped and measured his length on the ground. Soon they felt glad to be able to progress even at a walk, and Bert said, "We want to remember landmarks that we pass, fellows, so that we can be sure of finding our way back. It wouldn't be very hard to wander off this apology of a path, and find ourselves lost." "Like the babes in the woods," supplemented Dick, with a laugh. "Exactly," grinned Bert, "and I don't feel like doing any stunts along that line myself just at present." These words were hardly out of his mouth when the path suddenly widened out into a little opening or glade, and the boys stopped abruptly to get their bearings. "Look! over there, fellows," said Bert, in an excited voice. "If I'm not very much mistaken there's a hut over there, see, by that big tree--no, no, you simps, the big one with the wild grape vine twisted all over it. See it now?" It was easy to see that they did, for they both hurried over toward the little shack at a run, but Bert had started even before they had, and beat them to it. They could gather little information from its contents when they arrived, however. Inside were a few ragged pieces of clothing, and in one corner a bed constructed of twigs and branches. In addition to these there was a rude chair constructed of boughs of trees, and tied together with bits of string and twine. It was evident from this, however, that some civilized person had at one time inhabited the place, and at a recent date, too, for otherwise the hut would have been in a more dilapidated condition than that in which they found it. They rummaged around, scattering the materials of which the bed was constructed to left and right. Suddenly Tom gave a yell and pounced on something that he had unearthed. "Why don't you do as I do, pick things up and look for them afterward?" he said, excitedly. "What is it? What did you find?" queried Bert, who was more inclined to be sure of his ground before he became enthusiastic. "It looks a good deal like any other old memorandum book, as far as I can see." "All right, then, we'll read it and see what _is_ in it," replied Tom. "Why, it's a record of somebody's life on the island here. I suppose maybe you think that's nothing to find, huh?" Without waiting for a reply he started to read the mildewed old book, and Bert and Dick read also, over his shoulder. The first entry was dated about a month previous to the time of reading, and seemed to be simply a rough jotting down of the important events in the castaway's life for future reference. There were records of the man, whoever he might be, having found the spring beside which he had built the hut in which they were now standing; of his having erected the rude shelter, and a good many other details. The three boys read the scribbled account with breathless interest, as Tom turned over page after page. "Come on, skip over to the last page," said Bert at last, "we can read all this some other time, and I'm crazy to know what happened to the fellow, whoever he is. Maybe he's written that down, too, since he seems to be so methodical." In compliance with this suggestion, Tom turned to the last written page of the note-book, and what the boys read there caused them to gasp. It was scribbled in a manner that indicated furious haste, and read as follows: "Whoever you are who read this, for heaven's sake come to my aid, if it is not too late. Last night I was awakened by having my throat grasped in a grip of iron, and before I could even start to struggle I was bound securely. By the light of torches held by my captors I could see that I was captured by a band of black-skinned savages. After securing me beyond any chance of escape, they paid little further attention to me, and held what was apparently a conference regarding my disposal. Finally they made preparations to depart, but first cooked a rude meal and my hands were unbound to enable me to eat. At the first opportunity I scrawled this account, in the hope that some party seeing my signal, might by chance find it, and be able to help me. As the savages travel I will try to leave some trace of our progress, so you can follow us. I only hope--" but here the message ended suddenly, leaving the boys to draw their own conclusions as to the rest of it. For a few moments they gazed blankly into each other's faces, and uttered never a word. Bert was the first to break the silence. "I guess it's up to us, fellows," he said, and the manly lines of his face hardened. "We've got to do something to help that poor devil, and the sooner we start the better. According to the dates in this book it must have been last Thursday night that he was captured, and this is Monday. If we hurry we may be able to trace him up and do something for him before it's too late." The thought that they themselves might be captured or meet with a horrible death did not seem to enter the head of one of them. They simply saw plainly that it was, as Bert had said, "up to them" to do the best they could under the circumstances, and this they proceeded to do without further loss of time. "The first thing to do," said Bert, "is to scout around and see if we can find the place where the savages left the clearing with their prisoner. Then it will be our own fault if we cannot follow the trail." This seemed more easily said than done, however, and it was some time before the three, fretting and impatient at the delay, were able to find any clue. At last Bert gave an exultant whoop and beckoned the others over to where he stood. "I'll bet any amount of money this is where they entered the jungle," he said, exultantly. "Their prisoner evidently evaded their observation while they were breaking a path through, and pinned this on the bush here," and he held up a corner of a white linen handkerchief, with the initial M embroidered on the corner. "Gee, I guess you're right," agreed Dick. "Things like that don't usually grow on bushes. It ought to be easy for us to trace the party now." This proved to be far from the actual case, however, and if it had not been for the occasional scraps of clothing fluttering from a twig or bush every now and then their search would have probably ended in failure. So rank and luxuriant is the jungle growth in tropical climates, that although in all probability a considerable body of men had passed that way only a few days before, practically all trace of their progress was gone. The thick underbrush grew as densely as ever, and it would have seemed to one not skilled in woodland arts that the foot of man had never trod there. Monkeys chattered in the trees as they went along, and parrots with rainbow plumage shot among the lofty branches, uttering raucous cries. Humming clouds of mosquitoes rose and gathered about their heads, and added to the heat to make their journey one of torment. Their previous experience as campers now stood them in good stead, and they read without much trouble signs of the progress of the party in front of them that they must surely have missed otherwise. After three hours of dogged plodding, in which few words were exchanged, Bert said, "I don't think we can have very much further to go, fellows. I remember the captain saying that this island was not more than a few miles across in any direction, and we must have traveled some distance already. We're bound to stumble on their camp soon, so we'd better be prepared." "Probably by this time," said Tom, "the savages will have returned to the mainland, or some other island from which they came. I don't think it very likely that they live permanently on this one. It seems too small." "Yes, I thought of that," said Bert, "but we've got to take our chance on that. If they are gone, there is nothing else we can do, and we can say we did our best, anyway." "But what shall we do when we find them?" asked Tom, after a short pause, "provided, of course, that our birds haven't flown." "Oh, we'll have to see how matters stand, and make our plans accordingly," replied Bert. "You fellows had better make sure your revolvers are in perfect order. I have a hunch that we'll need them before we get through with this business." Fortunately, before leaving the ship the boys had, at Bert's suggestion, strapped on their revolvers, and each had slipped a handful of cartridges into their pockets. "The chances are a hundred to one we won't need them at all," Bert had said at the time. "But if anything _should_ come up where we'll need them, we'll probably be mighty glad we brought them." The boys were very thankful for this now, as without the trusty little weapons their adventure would have been sheer madness. As it was, however, the feel of the compact .45's was very reassuring, and they felt that they would at least have a fighting chance, if worse came to worst, and they were forced to battle for their lives. CHAPTER XIII THE HUNTING WOLVES They advanced more cautiously now, with every sense alert to detect the first sign of any lurking savage. They had not proceeded far in this manner when Bert, who was slightly in the lead, motioned with his hand in back of him for them to stop. This they did, almost holding their breath the while, trying to make out what Bert had seen or heard. For several seconds he stood the very picture of attention and concentration, and then turned to them. "What is it, Bert, do you see anything?" inquired Dick, in a subdued but tense whisper. "Not a thing as yet," answered Bert, in the same tone, "but I thought I smelled smoke, and if I did, there must be a camp-fire of some kind not very far away. Don't you fellows smell it?" Both sniffed the air, and as a slight breeze suddenly blew against their faces, Tom said, "Gee, Bert, I smell it now!" "So do I!" said Dick, almost at the same instant, and the hearts of all three began to beat hard. They had evidently trailed the party of savages to their camp, and now they had something of the feeling of the lion hunter who suddenly comes unexpectedly upon his quarry and is not quite certain what to do with it when cornered. Needless to say, they had never faced any situation like this before, and it is not to be wondered at if they felt a little nervous over attempting to take a prisoner out from the midst of a savage camp, not even knowing what might be the force or numbers of the enemy they would have to cope with. This feeling was but momentary, however, and almost immediately gave place to a fierce excitement and a wild exultation at the prospect of danger and conflict against odds. Each knew the others to be true and staunch to their heart's core, and as much to be relied on as himself. They felt sure that at least they were capable of doing as much or more than anybody else under the circumstances, and so the blood pounded through their veins and their eyes sparkled and danced as they drew together to hold a "council of war." There was little to be discussed, however, as they all three felt that the only thing to do was to "face the music and see the thing through to the finish," as Bert put it. Accordingly they shook hands, and drew their revolvers, so as to be ready for any emergency at a moment's notice. Then, with Bert once more in the lead, they took up their interrupted march. For all the noise they made, they might have been the savages themselves. Their early training in camp and field now proved invaluable, and not a twig cracked or a leaf rustled at their cautious approach. Soon a patch of light in front of them indicated a break in the jungle, and they crouched double as they advanced. Suddenly Bert made a quick motion with his hand, and darted like a streak into the underbrush at the side of the trail. The others did likewise, and not a moment too soon. A crackling of the undergrowth cluttering the path announced the approach of a considerable body of men, and in a few moments the boys, from their place of concealment, where they could look out from the leafy underbrush with little chance of being seen, saw a party of eight or ten dusky warriors pass by, apparently bent on foraging, for each carried a large bag slung over his shoulder. They were big, splendidly built men, but their faces indicated a very low order of intelligence. Their features were large, coarse, and brutish, and the boys were conscious of a shudder passing over them as they thought of being at the mercy of such creatures. The savages seemed in a good humor just then, however, for every once in a while they laughed among themselves, evidently at something humorous one of them was reciting. It was well for our heroes that they were so, for otherwise they could hardly have failed to notice signs of their recent presence on the trail. Fortunately this did not happen, however, and soon they were swallowed up in the dense jungle. Shortly afterward the boys emerged from their places of concealment, and resumed their slow advance. They were soon at the edge of the clearing, and then halted to reconnoitre before venturing further. The savages were encamped in a natural hollow, and had apparently made arrangements for quite a protracted visit. They had constructed rude huts or lean-tos of branches and leaves, scattered at any place that seemed convenient. Naked children shouted noisily as they played and rolled on the green turf, and made such a noise that the parrots in the woods were frightened, and flew away with disgusted squawks. In the center of the encampment were two huts evidently constructed with more care than the others, and around both were squatted sentries with javelins lying on the ground within easy reach. "I'll bet any money they are keeping their prisoner in one of those shacks, fellows," said Bert, "but what do you suppose the other one is for? It looks bigger than the others." "Oh, that's probably the king's palace," said Dick. "Compared to the rest of those hovels it almost looks like one, at that." "That's what it is, all right," agreed Tom, "but how are we going to tell which one is the prisoner's, and which the king's? We don't want to go and rescue the wrong one, you know." "No danger of that," said Bert. "All we've got to do is to lie low a little while and see what's going on down there. We'll find out how matters stand soon enough." Accordingly, the trio concealed themselves as best they could, and in whispers took council on the best means of bringing about the release of the captive. This proved a knotty problem, however, and for a long while they seemed no nearer its solution. It was Bert who finally proposed the plan that they eventually followed. "I think," he said, "that we'd better get the lay of the land securely in our eye, and then wait till dark and make our attempt. We haven't got any chance otherwise, as far as I can see. It would be nonsense to rush them in the broad light of day, for we'd simply be killed or captured ourselves, and that wouldn't improve matters much. There will be a full moon, almost, to-night, and this clearing isn't so big but what we might be able to sneak from the shadow of the trees up close to the two center huts. Then we could overpower the sentries, if we have luck, and smuggle the prisoner into the woods. Once there, we'll have to take our chance of keeping them off with our revolvers, if they pursue and overtake us. Can either of you think of a better plan than that?" It seemed that neither could, and so they resolved to carry out Bert's. Accordingly, they kept their positions till the sun gradually sank, and the shadows began to creep over the little clearing. The night descended very quickly, however, as it always does in tropical latitudes, but it seemed an age to the impatient boys before the jungle was finally enshrouded in inky shadows, and it became time for them to make their desperate attempt. Stealthy rustlings and noises occasionally approached them as they lay, and more than once they thought their hiding-place had been discovered. At last, Bert decided that the time had come to put their plan into action, and they rose stealthily from their cramped position. The prospect of immediate action was like a strong stimulant to these three tried comrades, and all thought of danger and possible, nay, even probable, death, or what might be infinitely worse, capture, was banished from their minds. They had often craved adventure, and now they seemed in a fair way to get their fill of it. Quietly as cats they stole around the edge of the clearing, planting each footstep with infinite care to avoid any possible sound. Once a loud shouting arose from the camp, and they made sure that they were discovered, and grasped their revolvers tightly, resolved to sell their lives dearly. It proved to be merely some disturbance among the savages, however, and they ventured to breathe again. Foot by foot they skirted the clearing, guided by the fitful and flickering light of the camp-fire, and finally gained a position in what they judged was about the rear of the two central huts. Now there was nothing to do but wait until the majority of the camp should fall asleep, and this proved the most trying ordeal they had yet experienced. At first groups of boisterous children approached their place of concealment, and more than once their hearts leapt into their mouths as it seemed inevitable that they would be discovered by them. As luck would have it, however, the children decided to return to the fire, and so they escaped at least one peril. Gradually the noises of the camp diminished, and the fire flickered and burnt low. It was now the turn of the jungle insects, and they struck up a chorus that seemed deafening. Also, the mosquitoes issued forth in swarms, and drove the three boys almost frantic, for they did not dare to change their positions or make any effort to ward off the humming pests, as the noise entailed in doing so would have been almost certain to betray them. There is an end to the longest wait, however, and at Bert's low whisper they crept toward the two huts they had marked in the center of the village. The moon was not yet high over the trees, and threw thick patches of inky blackness, that served our three adventurers well. At times they could hardly make out each other's forms, so deep were the shadows, and they breathed a prayer of thankfulness for this aid. The shadows fell at least ten feet short of the huts, however, and across this open space it was evident they would have to dash and take their chances of being seen. As they had watched from the woods earlier in the evening, they had seen that the guard around the huts consisted of two men for each. The huts were perhaps forty feet apart, and this made it possible for them to attack the sentries guarding the one in which the prisoner was confined without necessarily giving the alarm to those about the other shack. The boys were near enough to the dusky sentries now to hear their voices as they exchanged an occasional guttural remark. Bert touched the other two lightly, and they stopped. "I'll take the fellow nearest the fire," he breathed, "you two land on the other one. Club him with your revolvers, but whatever you do, don't let him make a sound, or we're gone for sure. Understand?" "Sure," they whispered, and all prepared to do their parts. At a whispered word from Bert, they dashed with lightning speed across the patch of moonlight, and before the astonished sentries could utter a cry were upon them like so many whirlwinds. Bert grasped the man he had selected by the throat, and dealt him a stunning blow on the head with the butt of his revolver. The blow would have crushed the skull of any white man, but it seemed hardly to stun the thickheaded savage. He wriggled and squirmed, and Bert felt his arm go back toward the sash round his waist, feeling for the wicked knife that these savages always wore. Bert dared not let go of his opponent's throat, as he knew that one cry would probably ring their death knell. He retained his grasp on his enemy's windpipe, therefore, but dropped his revolver and grasped the fellow's wrist. They wrestled and swayed, writhing this way and that, but fortunately the soft moss and turf under them deadened the sound of their struggles. Bert had met his match that night, however, and, strain as he might, he felt his opponent's hand creeping nearer and nearer the deadly knife. He realized that his strength could not long withstand the terrific strain put upon it, and he resolved to make one last effort to beat the savage at his own game. Releasing the fellow's sinewy wrist, he made a lightning-like grasp for the hilt of the knife, and his fingers closed over it a fraction of a second ahead of those of the black man. Eluding the latter's frantic grasp at his wrist, he plunged the keen and heavy knife into the shoulder of his opponent. Something thick and warm gushed over his hand, and he felt the muscles of his enemy go weak. Whether dead or unconscious only, he was for the time being harmless. Bert himself was so exhausted that for a few moments he lay stretched at full length on the earth, unable to move or think. In a few moments his strong vitality asserted itself, however, and he gathered strength enough to go to the assistance of his comrades. It was not needed, though, for they had already choked the remaining guard into unconsciousness. They waited a few moments breathlessly, to see if the noise, little as it had been, had aroused the rest of the camp. Apparently it had not, and they resolved to enter the hut without further loss of time. This was accomplished with little difficulty, and they were soon standing in the interior of the shack, which was black as any cave. The boys had feared that there would be another guard in the place, who might give the alarm before he could be overpowered, but they now saw that this fear had been groundless. A torch, stuck in a chink in the wall, smoked and flared, and by its uncertain light they could make out the form of a man bound securely to one of the corner posts. He gazed at them without saying a word, and seemed unable to believe the evidence of his senses. "What--what--how--" he stammered, but Bert cut him short. "Never mind talking now, old man," he said. "It's a long story, and we'd better not wait to talk now. We're here, but it remains to be seen if we ever get away, or become candidates for a cannibal feast ourselves." "How did you get past the sentries?" asked the prisoner. "Well, we didn't wait to get their consent, you can bet on that," returned Bert, "and I don't think, now that we _are_ here, that they'll offer any objections to our leaving, either. But now, it's up to us to get you untied, and make a quick sneak. Somebody's liable to come snooping around here almost any time, I suppose." "You may be sure we can't leave any too soon to suit me," said the captive. "I believe, from all that I have been able to gather from their actions, that I was to furnish the material for a meal for the tribe to-morrow. They're head hunters and cannibals, and the more space I put between them and me the better I shall be pleased." While he had been speaking, the boys had been busily engaged in cutting the cords that bound him, and now they assisted him to his feet. He had been bound in one position so long, however, that he could hardly stand at first, and Bert began to fear that he would not be able to move. After a few moments, however, his powers began to come back to him, and in a few minutes he seemed able to walk. "All right, fellows, I guess we won't wait to pay our respects to the king," said Bert. "Let's get started. Do you feel able to make a dash now?" he inquired, addressing the erstwhile prisoner. The latter signified that he was, and they prepared to leave without further discussion. When they got outside, they found that they were favored by a great piece of good fortune. The moon was now in such a position that it threw the shadow of a particularly tall tree almost to the hut, and they quickly made for the welcome security it offered. They made as little noise as possible, but their companion was less expert in the ways of the woods than they, and more than once slipped and fell, making a disturbance that the boys felt sure would be heard by someone in the camp. Fate was kind to them, however, and at last they reached the shelter of the woods without apparently having given the savages any cause for suspicion. Once well in the jungle, they felt justified in making more speed without bothering so much about the noise. After a little trouble they found the trail that they had followed to the camp, and started back toward the coast with the best speed they could muster. In the dense shadows cast by the arching trees they could hardly see a foot ahead of them, and continually stumbled, tripped, and fell over the roots and creepers in their path. Their progress became like a horrible nightmare, in which one is unable to make any headway in fleeing from a pursuing danger, no matter how hard one tries. They were haunted by the fear of hearing the yell of the savages in pursuit, for they knew that if they were overtaken, here in the narrow path, in pitch darkness, they would be slaughtered by an unseen enemy without the chance to fight. The experienced savages could come at them from all sides through the forest, and have them at a terrible disadvantage. "If we can only make that rocky little hill we passed coming to this infernal place, fellows," panted Bert, "we can stay there till daylight, and at least make a fight for our lives. If they should catch us here now, they could butcher us like rats in a trap." In compliance with these words, they made desperate efforts to hurry their pace, and were beginning to pluck up hope. Suddenly their hearts stood still, and then began to beat furiously. Far behind them in the mysterious, deadly jungle, they heard a weird, eerie shrill cry. "What was it? What was it?" whispered Tom, in a low, horror-struck voice. The man whom they had freed made one or two efforts to speak, but his words refused to come at first. Then he said, in a dry, hard voice, "I know what it is. That was the cry their hunting wolves give when they are on the trail of their quarry. May heaven help us now, for we are dead men." "Hunting wolves?" said Bert, in a strained voice, "what do you mean?" "They're three big wolves the savages captured at some time, and they have trained them to help run down game in the hunt, the same as we have trained dogs. Only these brutes are far worse than any dog, and a thousand times more savage. If they get us--" but here his voice trailed down into silence, for again they heard that fierce cry, but this time much nearer. The little party broke into a desperate run, and blundered blindly, frantically forward. The mysterious, danger-breathing jungle surrounding them on every side, the horrible pursuit closing in on them from behind, caused their hair to rise with an awful terror that lent wings to their feet. They stumbled, fell, picked themselves and each other up again, and hastened madly forward in their wild race. "If we can only make it, if we can only make it," Bert repeated over and over to himself, while the breath came in great sobbing gasps from between his lips. He was thinking of their one last chance of safety--the little knoll that he had marked as they followed the savages' trail the previous day as a possible retreat if they were pursued. Loud and weird came the baying of the beasts on their trail, but Bert, straining his eyes ahead, could make out a little patch of moonlight through the trees. "Faster, fellows, faster," he gasped. "A little further, and we'll be there. Faster, faster!" With a last despairing effort they dashed into the clearing, which was flooded with silvery moonlight. Now, at least, they would be able to see and fight, and their natural courage came back to them. "Get up on that big rock in the center!" yelled Bert, "for your lives, do you hear me? for your lives!" They scrambled madly up the huge boulder, Bert helping them and being pulled up last by Dick and Tom. Dropping on the flat top of the rock, perhaps seven or eight feet from the ground, they drew their revolvers and faced toward the opening in the trees from which they had dashed a few moments before. Nor had they long to wait. From the jungle rushed three huge wolves, forming such a spectacle as none of the little party ever forgot to his dying day. The hair bristled on their necks and backs, and foam dropped from their jaws. As they broke from the line of trees they gave utterance once more to their blood-curdling bay, but then caught sight of the men grouped on the big boulder, and in terrible silence made straight for them. Without stopping they made a leap up the steep sides of the rock. Almost at the same instant the three revolvers barked viciously, and one big brute dropped back, biting horribly at his ribs, and then running around the little glade in circles. The other two scrambled madly at the rock, trying to get a foothold, and one grasped Dick's shoe in his teeth. A second later, however, and before his jaws even had a chance to close, the three guns spoke at once, and the animal dropped quivering back upon the ground. The third beast seemed somewhat daunted by the fate of his comrades, and was moreover wounded slightly himself. He dropped back and took up a position about ten feet from the boys' place of refuge, and throwing back his head, gave utterance to a dismal howl. Faintly, as though answering him, the boys heard a yell, that they knew could be caused by none but the savages themselves. It seemed hopeless to fight against such odds, but these young fellows were not made of the stuff that gives up easily. Where the spirit of others might have sunk under such repeated trials, theirs only became more stubborn and more determined to overcome the heavy odds fate had meted out to them. Taking careful aim Bert fired at the remaining wolf, and his bullet fulfilled its mission. The brute dropped without a quiver, and Bert slid to the ground. "Come on, fellows," he yelled, "get busy here and help me build a fort. We've got to roll some of these rocks into position in a little less than no time, so we can give them an argument when they arrive." "Oh, what's the use?" said the man whom they had rescued, in a hopeless voice. "We haven't got any chance against them. We might as well surrender first as last, and take our chances of escaping afterward." "Why, man, what are you talking about?" said Dick, scornfully. "You don't think we're going to give in without a struggle, do you, when we have some shelter here and guns in our hands? Not on your life, we won't, and don't you forget it." "Well, I was just giving you my opinion, that's all," said the man, who, it must be confessed, spoke in a rather shamefaced manner. "We're sure to be butchered if we follow out your plan, though, mark my words." "Well, we'll at least send some of them to their last accounting before they do get to us," said Bert. "Step lively, now, and help us, instead of talking in that fool way." While this talk had been going on the boys had rolled several big boulders up against the one that had already offered them such timely aid, in such a manner as to form a little enclosed space or fort. In their excitement and pressing need they accomplished feats of strength that under ordinary circumstances they would not even have attempted or believed possible. Soon they had made every preparation they could think of, and with set teeth and a resolve to fight to the last gasp waited the coming of the pursuing cannibals. Soon they could hear them rushing through the forest, exchanging deep-throated cries, and a few moments later they burst into the clearing. When they saw the preparations that had been made for their reception, however, they paused, and some pointed excitedly toward the three dead wolves. It was evident that they had been more prepared to see the mangled bodies of their erstwhile prisoner and his rescuers, rather than what they actually did find. Bert, seeing that they were disconcerted, decided to open hostilities. With a wild yell, he started firing his revolver toward the closely-grouped savages, taking careful aim with each shot. A much poorer shot than Bert would have had difficulty in missing such a mark, and every bullet took deadly effect. All at once panic seemed to seize on the savages, and they rushed madly back into the jungle. Of course, Bert wasted no more valuable ammunition firing at an unseen enemy, and a breathless hush fell over the scene. At first the little party expected the savages to renew the conflict, but the time wore slowly on and nothing of the kind happened. They kept a keen lookout to guard against a surprise, but none was attempted. At length dawn broke, and the sun had never been so welcome to the boys as it was then. In the light of day their experience seemed like an awful dream, or would have seemed so, had it not been for the bodies of the three wolves. The besieged party held a "pow-wow," and as it was clear that they could not stay where they were indefinitely, they decided to make a break for the ship without further delay. After a careful reconnoitering of the path, they ventured into it with many misgivings, but could see no sign of the head hunters. They made the best possible speed, and it was not very long before they reached the beach. Needless to say, the whole ship's company had been greatly worried over their absence, but their relief was correspondingly great at their safe return. The captain had reinforced Mr. Miller's complement of men with orders to go in search of the three boys as soon as morning broke. He was prepared to hold them strictly to account for what he thought their rashness, but repressed his censure when he heard their story. The boat was swung inboard, the _Fearless_ gathered way, and the island receding to a point was soon lost to sight in the distance. CHAPTER XIV THE LAND OF SURPRISES "Better fifty years of Europe Than a cycle of Cathay," murmured Dick, yielding once more to his chronic habit of quotation. They had reached the gateway of Southern China and cast anchor in the harbor of Hong-Kong. It had been a day of great bustle and confusion, and all hands had been kept busy from the time the anchor chain rattled in the hawse-hole until dusk began to creep over the waters of the bay. The great cranes had groaned with their loads as they swung up the bales and boxes from the hold and transferred them to the lighters that swarmed about the sides of the _Fearless_. The passengers, eager once more to be on _terra firma_ after the long voyage, had gone ashore, and the boat was left to the officers and crew. These had been kept on board by the manifold duties pertaining to their position, but were eagerly looking forward to the morrow, when the coveted shore leave would be granted in relays to the crew, while the officers would be free to go and come almost as they pleased. It was figured that even with the greatest expedition in discharging cargo and taking on the return shipments for the "States," it would be nearly or quite a week before they began their return journey, and they promised themselves in that interval to make the most of their stay in this capital of the Oriental commercial world. Now, as dusk fell over the waters, the boys sat at the rail and gazed eagerly at the strange sights that surrounded them. The harbor was full of shipping gathered from the four quarters of the world. On every side great liners lay, ablaze with light from every cabin and porthole. Native junks darted about saucily here and there, while queer yellow faces looked up at them from behind the mats and lateen-rigged sails. The unforgettable smells of an Eastern harbor assailed their nostrils. The high pitched nasal chatter of the boatmen wrangling or jesting, was unlike anything they had ever before heard or imagined. Everything was so radically different from all their previous experiences that it seemed as though they must have kneeled on the magic carpet of Solomon and been transported bodily to a new world. Before them lay the city itself glowing with myriad lights. The British concession with its splendid buildings, its immense official residences, its broad boulevards, might have been a typical European city set down in these strange Oriental surroundings. But around and beyond this lay the real China, almost as much untouched and uninfluenced by these modern developments as it had been for centuries. Great hills surrounded the city on every side, and temples and pagodas uprearing their quaint sloping roofs indicated the location of the original native quarters. In the distance they could see the lights of the little cable railway that carried passengers to the heights from which they could obtain a magnificent view of the harbor and the surrounding country. The ship's doctor had come up just as Dick had finished his quotation. "Yes," he assented, as he lit a fresh cigar and drew his chair into the center of the group. "The poet might have gone further than that and intimated that even one year of Europe would be better than a 'cycle of Cathay.' There's more progress ordinarily in a single year among Europeans than there is here in twenty centuries." They gladly made room for him. The doctor was a general favorite and a cosmopolitan in all that that word implies. He seemed to have been everywhere and seen everything. In the course of his profession he had been all over the world, and knew it in every nook and corner. He had a wealth of interesting experiences, and had the gift of telling them, when in congenial company, in so vivid and graphic a way, that it made the hearer feel as though he himself had taken part in the events narrated. "Of course," went on the doctor, "it all depends on the point of view. If progress is a good thing, we have the advantage of the Chinese. If it is a bad thing, they have the advantage of us. Now, they say it is a bad thing. With them 'whatever is is right.' Tradition is everything. What was good enough for their parents is good enough for them. They live entirely in the past. They cultivate the ground in the same way and with the same implements that their fathers did two thousand years ago. To change is to offend the gods. All modern inventions are devices of the devil. Every event in their whole existence is governed by cut and dried rules. From the moment of birth to that of death, life moves along one fixed groove. They don't want railroads or telephones or phonographs or machinery or anything else that to us seems a necessity of life. Whatever they have of these has been forced upon them by foreigners. A little while ago they bought up a small railroad that the French had built, paid a big advance on the original price, and then threw rails and locomotives into the sea." "Even our 'high finance' railroad wreckers in Wall Street wouldn't go quite as far as that," laughed Tom. "No," smiled the doctor, "they'd do it just as effectively, but in a different way." "And yet," interposed Dick, "the Chinese don't seem to me to be a stupid race. We had one or two in our College and they were just as bright as anyone there." "They're not stupid by any means," replied the doctor. "There was a time, thousands of years ago, when they were the very leaders of civilization. They had their inventors and their experimenters. Why, they found out all about gunpowder and printing and the mariner's compass, when Europe was sunk in the lowest depths of ignorance. At that time, the intellect of the people was active and productive. But then they seem to have had a stroke of paralysis, and they've never gotten over it." "It always seemed to me," said Bert, "that 'Alice in Wonderland' should really have been called 'Alice in China-land.' She and her mad hatter and the March hare and the Cheshire cat would certainly have felt at home here." "True enough," rejoined the doctor. "It isn't without reason that this has been called 'Topsy-turvy' land." "For instance," he went on, "you could never get into a Chinaman's head what Shakespeare meant when he said: 'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' The roses in China have no fragrance. "Take some other illustrations. When we give a banquet, the guest of honor is seated at the right of the host as a special mark of distinction. In China, he is placed at the left. If you meet a friend in the street, out goes your hand in greeting. The Chinaman shakes hands with himself. If an American or European is perplexed about anything he scratches his head. When the Chinaman is puzzled, he scratches his foot." The comicality of this idea was too much for the gravity of the boys--never very hard to upset at any time--and they roared with laughter. Their laugh was echoed more moderately by Captain Manning, who, relieved at last of the many duties attendant upon the first day in port, had come up behind them and now joined the group. The necessity of keeping up the strain and dignity of his official position had largely disappeared with the casting of the anchor, and it was more with the easy democracy and good fellowship of the ordinary passenger that he joined in the conversation. "They have another queer custom in China that bears right on the doctor's profession," he said, with a sly twinkle in his eye. "Here they employ a doctor by the year, but they only pay him as long as the employer keeps well. The minute he gets sick, the doctor's salary ceases, and he has to work like sixty to get him well in a hurry, so that his pay may be resumed." "Well," retorted the doctor, "I don't know but they have the better of us there. It is certainly an incentive to get the patient well at once, instead of spinning out the case for the sake of a bigger fee. I know a lot of fashionable doctors whose income would go down amazingly if that system were introduced in America." "You'll find, too," said the captain, "that the Chinaman's idea of what is good to eat is almost as different from ours as their other conceptions. There's just about one thing in which they agree with us, and that is on the question of pork. They are very fond of this, and you have all read, no doubt, the story told by Charles Lamb of the Chinese peasant whose cabin was burned, together with a pig who had shared it with the family. His despair at the loss of the pig was soon turned to rejoicing when he smelled the savory odor of roast pork and learned for the first time how good it was. But, outside of that, we don't have much in common. They care very little for beef or mutton. To make up for this, however, they have made a good many discoveries in the culinary line that they regard as delicacies, but that you won't find in any American cook book. Rats and mice and edible birds' nests and shark fins are served in a great variety of ways, and those foreigners who have had the courage to wade through the whole Chinese bill of fare say it is surprising to find out how good it is. After all, you can get used to anything, and we Europeans and Americans are becoming broader in our tastes than we used to be. Horse meat is almost as common as beef in Berlin; dogs are not disdained in some parts of France, and only the other day I read of a banquet in Paris where they served stuffed angleworms and pronounced them good." "I imagine it will be a good while, however, before we get to the point where rats and mice are served in our restaurants," said Tom, with a grimace. "Yes," rejoined the captain, "we'll probably draw the line there and never step over it. But you'll have a chance pretty soon to sample Chinese cooking, and if you ask no questions and eat what is set before you, you will probably find it surprisingly good. 'What the eye doesn't see the heart doesn't grieve over,' you know. And when you come to the desserts, you will find that there are no finer sweetmeats in the world than those served at Chinese tables." "Another thing that seems queer to us Western people," said the doctor, "is their idea of the seat of intellect. We regard it as the head. They place it in the stomach. If the Chinaman gets off what he thinks to be a witty thing, he pats his stomach in approval." "I suppose when his head is cut off, he still goes on thinking," grinned Tom. "That wouldn't phase a Chinaman for a minute," answered the doctor. "He'd retort by asking you if you'd go on thinking if they cut you in half." "Then, if you wanted to praise a Chinese author, I suppose, instead of alluding to his 'bulging brow,' it would be good form to refer to his 'bulging stomach,'" laughed Ralph. "Gee," put in Tom, "if that were so, I've seen some fat people in the side shows at the circus that would have it all over Socrates." "There's one thing," went on the doctor, "where they set us an example that we well might follow, and that is in the tolerance they have for the religious views of other people. There isn't any such thing as persecution or ostracism in China on the score of religious belief. There are three or four religions and all are viewed with approval and kindly toleration. A man, for instance, will meet several strangers in the course of business or of travel, and they will fall into conversation. It is etiquette to ask the religious belief of your new acquaintances, so our Chinaman asks the first of them: 'Of what religion are you?' 'I practice the maxims of Confucius,' is the response. 'Very good, and you?' turning to the second. 'I am a follower of Lao-tze.' The third answers that he is a Buddhist, and the first speaker winds up the conversation on this point by shaking hands--with himself--and genially remarking: 'Ah, well, we are all brothers after all.'" "They certainly have the edge on us there," remarked Bert. "I wish we had a little of that spirit in our own country. We could stand a lot more of it than we have." "Outside of the question of religion, however," went on the doctor, "we might think that they carry politeness too far to suit our mode of thinking. If you should meet a friend and ask after the health of his family, you would be expected to say something like this: 'And how is your brilliant and distinguished son, the light of your eyes and future hope of your house, getting on?' To this your friend would probably reply: 'That low blackguard and detestable dog that for my sorrow is called my son is in good health, but does not deserve that your glorious highness should deign to ask about him.'" "You will notice," said the captain when the laugh had subsided, "that the doctor uses the son as an illustration. The poor daughter wouldn't even be inquired about. She is regarded as her father's secret sorrow, inflicted upon him by a malignant decree of fate. In a commercial sense, the boy is an asset; the girl is a liability. You hear it said sometimes, with more or less conviction, that the world we live in is a 'man's world.' However that may be modified or denied elsewhere, it is the absolute truth as regards China. If the scale of a nation's civilization is measured by the way it treats its women,--and I believe this to be true,--then the Celestial Kingdom ranks among the very lowest. From the time she comes, unwelcomed, into the world, until, unmourned, she leaves it, her life is not worth living. She is the slave of the household, and, in the field, she pulls the plough while the man holds the handles. In marriage, she is disposed of without the slightest reference to her own wishes, but wholly at the whim of her parents, and often sees the bridegroom's face for the first time when he comes to take her to his own house. There she is as much a slave as before. Her husband can divorce her for the most flimsy reasons and she has no redress. No, it isn't 'peaches and cream' to be a woman in China." "It doesn't seem exactly a paradise of suffragettes," murmured Ralph. "No," interjected Tom, "the Government here doesn't have to concern itself about 'hunger strikes' or 'forcible feeding.'" "To atone to some extent for this hateful feature of family life," said the doctor, "they have another that is altogether admirable, and that is the respect shown to parents. In no country of the world is filial reverence so fully displayed as here. A disobedient son is almost unthinkable, and a murderer would scarcely be regarded with more disapproval. From birth to old age, the son looks upon his father with humility and reverence, and worships him as a god after he is dead. There is nothing of the flippancy with which we are too familiar in our own country. With us the 'child is father of the man,' or, if he isn't, he wants to be. Here the man always remains the father of the child." "Yes," said Bert, "I remember in Bill Nye's story of his early life he says that at the age of four 'he took his parents by the hand and led them out to Colorado.'" "And that's no joke," put in the captain. "All the foreigners that visit our country are struck by the independent attitude of children to their parents." "Another thing we have to place to the credit of this remarkable people," he went on, "is their love for education. The scholar is held in universal esteem. The road to learning is also the road to the highest honors of the State. Every position is filled by competitive examinations, and the one who has the highest mark gets the place. Of course their idea of education is far removed from ours. There is no attempt to develop the power of original thinking, but simply to become familiar with the teaching and wisdom of the past. Still, with all its defects, it stands for the highest that the nation knows, and they crown with laurels the men who rise to the front rank. Of course they wouldn't compare for a moment with the great scholars of the Western world. Still, you know, 'in a nation of the blind, the one-eyed man is king,' and their scholars stand out head and shoulders above the general level, and are reverenced accordingly." "I suppose that system of theirs explains why the civil service in our own country is slightingly referred to as the 'Chinese' civil service by disgruntled politicians," said Ralph. "Yes," said the captain, "and speaking of politicians, our Chinese friends could give us cards and spades and beat us out at that game. They're the smoothest and slickest set of grafters in the world. Why, the way they work it here would make our ward politicians turn green with envy. We're only pikers compared with these fellows. Graft is universal all through China. It taints every phase of the national life. Justice is bought and sold like any commodity and with scarcely a trace of shame or concealment. The only concern the mandarin has with the case brought before him is as to which side will make him the richest present. It is a case of the longest purse and little else. Then after a man has been sent to prison, the jailer must be paid to make his punishment as light as possible. If he is condemned to death, the executioner must be paid to do his work as painlessly and quickly as he can. At every turn and corner the grafter stands with his palm held out, and unless you grease it well you might as well abandon your cause at the start. You're certainly foredoomed to failure." "Well," said Bert, "we're badly enough off at home in the matter of graft, but at least we have some 'chance for our white alley' when we go into a court of justice." "Yes," assented the doctor, "of course a long purse doesn't hurt there, as everywhere else. But, in the main, our judges are beyond the coarse temptation of money bribes. We've advanced a good deal from the time of Sir Francis Bacon, that 'brightest, wisest, _meanest_ of mankind,' who not only accepted presents from suitors in cases brought before him, but had the nerve to write a pamphlet justifying the practice and claiming that it didn't affect his judgment." "What do you think of the present revolution in China, doctor?" asked Dick. "Will it bring the people more into sympathy with our way of looking at things?" He shook his head skeptically. "No," he answered, "to be frank I don't. Between us and the Chinese there is a great gulf fixed, and I don't believe it will ever be bridged. The Caucasian and Mongolian races are wholly out of sympathy. We look at everything from opposite sides of the shield. We can no more mix than oil and water. "The white races made a mistake," he went on and the boys detected in his voice a strain of sombre foreboding, "when they drew China out of its shell and forced it to come in contact with the modern world. It was a hermit nation and wanted to remain so. All it asked was to be let alone. It was a sleeping giant. Why did we wake him up unless we wanted to tempt fate and court destruction? "Not only that, but the giant had forgotten how to fight. We're teaching him how just as fast as we can, and even sending European officers to train and lead his armies. The giant's club was rotten and wormeaten. In its place, we're giving him Gatling guns and rifled artillery, the finest in the world. We have forgotten that Mongol armies have already overrun the world and that they may do it again. We're like the fisherman in the 'Arabian Nights' who found a bottle on the shore and learned that it held a powerful genii. As long as he kept the bottle corked he was safe. But he was foolish enough to take out the cork, and the genii, escaping, became as big as a mountain, and couldn't be squeezed back into the bottle. We've pulled the cork that held the Chinese genii and we'll never get him back again. Think of four hundred million people, a third of the population of the world, conscious of their strength, equipped with modern arms, trained in the latest tactics, able to live on practically nothing, moving over Europe like a swarm of devastating locusts! When some Chinese Napoleon--and he may be already born--finds such an army at his back--God help Europe!" He spoke with feeling, and a silence fell upon them as they looked over the great city, and thought of the thousands of miles and countless millions of inhabitants that lay beyond. Did they hear in imagination the gathering of shadowy hosts, the tread of marching armies, and the distant thunder of artillery? Or did they dimly sense with that mysterious clairvoyance sometimes vouchsafed to men that in a few days they themselves would be at death grip with that invisible "yellow peril" and barely win out with their lives? Dick shivered, though the night was warm. "Come along, fellows," he said, as the captain and doctor walked away. "Let's go to bed." CHAPTER XV THE DRAGON'S CLAWS The next morning the boys were up bright and early, ready for their trip through the city. "By George," said Dick, "I have to pinch myself to realize that we're really in China at last. Until a month ago I never dreamed of seeing it. As a matter of course I had hoped and expected to go to Europe and possibly take in Egypt. That seemed the regulation thing to do and it was the limit of my traveling ambition. But as regards Asia, I've never quite gotten over the feeling I had when I was a kid. Then I thought that if I dug a hole through the center of the earth I'd come to China, and, since they were on the under side of the world, I'd find the people walking around upside down." "Well," laughed Bert, "they're upside down, sure enough, mentally and morally, but physically they don't seem to be having any rush of blood to the head." An electric launch was at hand, but they preferred to take one of the native sampans that darted in and out among the shipping looking for passengers. They hailed one and it came rapidly to the side. "See those queer little eyes on each side of the bow," said Tom. "I wonder what they're for?" "Why, so that the boat can see where it is going," replied Dick. "You wouldn't want it to go it blind and bump head first into the side, would you?" "And this in a nation that invented the mariner's compass," groaned Tom. "How are the mighty fallen!" "And even that points to the south in China, while everywhere else it points to the north. Can you beat it?" chimed in Ralph. "Even their names are contradictions," said Bert. "This place was originally called 'Hiang-Kiang,' 'the place of sweet waters.' But do you catch any whiff here that reminds you of ottar of roses or the perfume wafted from 'Araby the blest?'" "Well, not so you could notice it," responded Ralph, as the awful smells of the waterside forced themselves on their unwilling nostrils. They speedily reached the shore and handed double fare to the parchment-faced boatman, who chattered volubly. "What do you suppose he's saying?" asked Tom. "Heaven knows," returned Ralph; "thanking us, probably. And yet he may be cursing us as 'foreign devils,' and consigning us to perdition. That's one of the advantages of speaking in the toughest language on earth for an outsider to master." "It is fierce, isn't it?" assented Bert. "I've heard that it takes about seven years of the hardest kind of study to learn to speak or read it, and even then you can't do it any too well. Some simply can't learn it at all." "Well," said Tom, "I can't conceive of any worse punishment than to have to listen to it, let alone speak it. Good old United States for mine." At the outset they found themselves in the English quarter. It was a splendid section of the city, with handsome buildings and well-kept streets, and giving eloquent testimony to the colonizing genius of the British empire. Here England had entrenched herself firmly, and from this as a point of departure, her long arm stretched out to the farthest limits of the Celestial Kingdom. She had made the place a modern Gibraltar, dominating the waters of the East as its older prototype held sway over the Mediterranean. Everywhere there were evidences of the law and order and regulated liberty that always accompany the Union Jack, and that explains why a little island in the Western Ocean rules a larger part of the earth's surface than any other power. "We've certainly got to hand it to the English," said Ralph. "They're the worst hated nation in Europe, and yet as colonizers the whole world has to take off its hat to them. Look at Egypt and India and Canada and Australia and a score of smaller places. No wonder that Webster was impressed by it when he spoke of the 'drum-beat that, following the sun and keeping pace with the hours, encircled the globe with the martial airs of England.'" "It's queer, too, why it is so," mused Bert. "If they were specially genial and adaptable, you could understand it. But, as a rule, they're cold and arrogant and distant, and they don't even try to get in touch with the people they rule. Now the French are far more sympathetic and flexible, but, although they have done pretty well in Algiers and Tonquin and Madagascar, they don't compare with the British as colonizers." "Well," rejoined Ralph, "I suppose the real explanation lies in their tenacity and their sense of justice. They may be hard but they are just, and the people after a while realize that their right to life and property will be protected, and that in their courts the poor have almost an equal chance with the rich. But when all's said and done, I guess we'll simply have to say that they have the genius for colonizing and let it go at that." "Speaking of justice and fair play, though," said Bert, "there's one big blot on their record, and that is the way they have forced the opium traffic on China. The Chinese as a rule are a temperate race, but there seems to be some deadly attraction for them in opium that they can't resist. It is to them what 'firewater' is to the Indian. The rulers of China realized how it was destroying the nation and tried to prohibit its importation. But England saw a great source of revenue threatened by this reform, as most of the opium comes from the poppy grown in India. So up she comes with her gunboats, this Christian nation, and fairly forces the reluctant rulers to let in the opium under threat of bombardment if they refused. To-day the habit has grown to enormous proportions. It is the curse of China, and the blame for the debauchery of a whole nation lies directly at the door of England and no one else." By this time they had passed through the British section and found themselves in the native quarter. Here at last they were face to face with the real China. They had practically been in Europe; a moment later and they were in Asia. A new world lay before them. The streets were very narrow, sometimes not more than eight or ten feet in width. A man standing at a window on one side could leap into one directly opposite. They were winding as well as narrow, and crowded on both sides with tiny shops in which merchants sat beside their wares or artisans plied their trade. Before each shop was a little altar dedicated to the god of wealth, a frank admission that here, as in America, they all worshipped the "Almighty Dollar." Flaunting signs, on which were traced dragons and other fearsome and impossible beasts, hung over the store entrances. "My," said Ralph, "this would be a bad place for a heavy drinker to find himself in suddenly. He'd think he 'had 'em' sure. Pink giraffes and blue elephants wouldn't be a circumstance to some of these works of art." "Right you are," assented Tom. "I'll bet if the truth were known the Futurist and Cubist painters, that are making such a splurge in America just now, got their first tips from just such awful specimens as these." "Well, these narrow streets have one advantage over Fifth Avenue," said Ralph. "No automobile can come along here and propel you into another world." "No," laughed Bert, "if the 'Gray Ghost' tried to get through here, it would carry away part of the houses on each side of the street. The worst thing that can run over us here is a wheelbarrow." "Or a sedan chair," added Tom, as one of these, bearing a passenger, carried by four stalwart coolies, brushed against him. A constant din filled the air as customers bargained with the shop-keepers over the really beautiful wares displayed on every hand. Rare silks and ivories and lacquered objects were heaped in rich profusion in the front of the narrow stalls, and their evident value stood out in marked contrast to the squalid surroundings that served as a setting. "No 'one price' here, I imagine," said Ralph, as the boys watched the noisy disputes between buyer and seller. "No," said Bert. "To use a phrase that our financiers in America are fond of, they put on 'all that the traffic will bear.' I suppose if you actually gave them what they first asked they'd throw a fit or drop dead. I'd hate to take the chance." "It would be an awful loss, wouldn't it?" asked Tom sarcastically, as he looked about at the immense crowd swarming like bees from a hive. "Where could they find anyone to take his place?" "There are quite a few, aren't there?" said Ralph. "The mystery is where they all live and sleep. There don't seem to be enough houses in the town to take care of them all." "No," remarked Bert, "but what the town lacks in the way of accommodations is supplied by the river. Millions of the Chinese live in the boats along the rivers, and at night you can see them pouring down to the waterside in droves. A white man needs a space six feet by two when he's dead, but a Chinaman doesn't need much more than that while he is alive. A sardine has nothing on him when it comes to saving space and packing close." At every turn their eyes were greeted with something new and strange. Here a wandering barber squatted in the street and carried on his trade as calmly as though in a shop of his own. Tinkers mended pans, soothsayers told fortunes, jugglers and acrobats held forth to delighted crowds, snake charmers put their slimy pets through a bewildering variety of exhibitions. Groups of idlers played fan-tan and other games of chance, and through the waving curtains of queerly painted booths came at times the acrid fumes of opium. Mingled with these were the odors of cooking, some repellant and some appetizing, which latter reminded the boys that it was getting toward noon and their healthy appetites began to assert themselves. They looked at each other. "Well," said Ralph, "how about the eats?" "I move that we have some," answered Tom. "Second the motion," chimed in Dick. "Carried unanimously," added Bert, "but where?" "Perhaps we would better get back to the English quarter," suggested Ralph. "There are some restaurants there as good as you can find in New York or London." "Not for mine," said Tom. "We can do that at any time, but it isn't often we'll have a chance to eat in a regular Chinese restaurant. Let's take our courage in our hands and go into the next one here we come to. It's all in a lifetime. Come along." "Tom's right," said Dick. "Let's shut our eyes and wade in. It won't kill us, and we'll have one more experience to look back upon. So 'lead on, MacDuff.'" Accordingly they all piled into the next queer little eating-house they came to, but not before they had agreed among themselves that they would take the whole course from "soup to nuts," no matter what their stomachs or their noses warned them against. A suave, smiling Chinaman seated them with many profound bows at a quaint table, on which were the most delicate of plates and the most tiny and fragile of cups. They had of course to depend on signs, but they made him understand that they wanted a full course dinner, and that they left the choice of the food to him. They had no cause to regret this, for, despite their misgivings, the dinner was surprisingly good. The shark-fin soup was declared by Ralph to be equal to terrapin. They fought a little shy of indulging heartily in the meat, especially after Bert had mischievously given a tiny squeak that made Tom turn a trifle pale; but in the main they stuck manfully to their pledge, and, to show that they were no "pikers" but "game sports," tasted at least something of each ingredient set before them. And when they came to the dessert, they gave full rein to their appetites, for it was delicious. Candied fruits and raisins and nuts were topped off with little cups of the finest tea that the boys had ever tasted. They paid their bill and left the place with a much greater respect for Chinese cookery than they had ever expected to entertain. The afternoon slipped away as if by magic in these new and fascinating surroundings. They wove in and out among the countless shops, picking up souvenirs here and there, until their pockets were much heavier and their purses correspondingly lighter. Articles were secured for a song that would have cost them ten times as much in any American city, if indeed they could be bought at all. The ivory carvers, workers in jade, silk dealers, painters of rice-paper pictures, porcelain and silver sellers--all these were many _cash_ richer by the time the boys, tired but delighted, turned back to the shore and were conveyed to the _Fearless_. "Well," smiled the doctor, as they came up the side, "how did you enjoy your first day ashore in China?" "Simply great," responded Bert, enthusiastically, while the others concurred. "I never had so many new sensations crowding upon me at one time in all my whole life before. As a matter of fact I'm bewildered by it yet. I suppose it will be some days before I can digest it and have a clear recollection of all we've seen and done to-day." "Yes," said the doctor, "but, even yet, you haven't seen the real China. Hong-Kong is so largely English that even the native quarter is more or less influenced by it. Now, Canton is Chinese through and through. Although of course there are foreign residents there, they form so small a part of the population that they are practically nil. It's only about seventy miles away, and I'm going down there to-morrow on a little business of my own. How would you fellows like to come along? Provided, of course, that the captain agrees." Needless to say the boys agreed with a shout, and the consent of the captain was readily obtained. "How shall we go?" asked Ralph. "What's the matter with taking the 'Gray Ghost' along?" put in Tom. The doctor shook his head. "No," said he. "That would be all right if the roads were good. Of course they're fine here in the city and for a few miles out. But beyond that they're simply horrible. If it should be rainy you'd be mired to the hubs, and even if the weather keeps dry, the roads in places are mere footpaths. They weren't constructed with a view to automobile riding." So they took an English river steamer the next day, and before night reached the teeming city, full of color and picturesque to a degree not attained by any other coast city of the Empire. Their time was limited and there was so much to see that they scarcely knew where to begin. But here again the vast experience of the doctor stood them in good stead. Under his expert guidance next day they visited the Tartar City, the Gate of Virtue, the Flowery Pagoda, the Clepsydra or Water Clock, the Viceroy's Yamen, the City of the Dead, and the Temple of the Five Hundred Genii. The latter was a kind of Chinese "Hall of Fame," with images of the most famous statesmen, soldiers, scholars, and philosophers that the country had produced. Before their shrines fires were kept constantly burning, and the place was heavy with the pungent odor of joss sticks and incense. They wound up with a visit to the execution ground and the prisons, a vivid reminder of the barbarism that foreign influence has as yet not been able to modify to any great degree. The boys were horrified at the devilish ingenuity displayed by the Chinese in their system of punishment. Here was a poor fellow condemned to the torture of the cangue. This was a species of treebox built about him with an opening at the neck through which his head protruded. He stood upon a number of thin slabs of wood. Every day one of these was removed so that his weight rested more heavily on the collar surrounding his neck, until finally his toes failed to touch the wood at the bottom and he hung by the neck until he slowly strangled to death. "Yes," said the doctor, as the boys turned away sickened by the sight, "there is no nation so cruel and unfeeling as the Chinese. Scarcely one of these that pass by indifferently, would save this poor fellow if they could. They look unmoved on scenes that would freeze the blood in our veins." "This is bad enough," he went on, "but it is nothing to some of the fiendish atrocities that they indulge in. Their executioners could give points on torture to a Sioux Indian. "They have for instance what they call the 'death of the thousand slices.' They are such expert anatomists that they can carve a man continuously for hours without touching a vital spot. They hang the victim on a kind of cross and cut slices from every part of his body before death comes to his relief. "Then, too, they have what they name the 'vest of death.' They strip a man to the waist and put on him a coat of mail with numberless fine openings. They pull this tightly about him until the flesh protrudes through the open places, and then deftly pass a razor all over it, making a thousand tiny wounds. Then they take off the vest and release the victim. The many wounds coalesce in one until he is practically flayed and dies in horrible torment." The boys shuddered at these instances of "man's inhumanity to man." "Life must be horribly cheap in China," observed Tom. "I wonder if such terrible punishment really has any effect as an example to criminals," said Ralph. "I don't believe it does," put in Bert. "We know that formerly in Europe there were hundreds of crimes that were punishable with death. In England, at one time, a young boy or girl would be hung for stealing a few shillings. And yet crime grew more common as punishment grew more severe. When they became more humane in dealing with offenders, the number of crimes fell off in proportion." "Yes," assented the doctor. "The modern idea is right that punishment should be reformatory instead of vindictive. But it will be a good while before China sees things from that standpoint." "It is possible of course that the culprit here does not suffer so cruelly as a white man would under similar conditions. The nervous system of a Chinaman is very coarse and undeveloped. He bears with stolidity torture that would wring shrieks of agony from one more highly strung." "Perhaps so," said Bert, "but I don't know. We say that sometimes about fish. They're coldblooded, and so it doesn't hurt them to be caught. I've often thought, though, that it would be interesting if we could hear from the fish on that point." "No doubt," returned the doctor. "It's always easy to be philosophical when somebody else is concerned. But we'll have to go now," looking at his watch, "if we expect to get to the boat in time." "Well, fellows," said Bert that night as, safe on board of the _Fearless_, they prepared to tumble in, "it certainly is interesting to go about this land of the 'Yellow Dragon,' but it's a cruel old beast. I'd hate to feel its teeth and claws." Was it a touch of prophecy? CHAPTER XVI THE PIRATE ATTACK "Not very pretty to look at, is he?" asked Ralph, indicating by a nod the huge Chinaman who had slipped noiselessly past them on his way to the galley. "He isn't exactly a beauty," assented Tom, looking after the retreating figure, "but then what Chinaman is? Besides he didn't sign as an Adonis, but as an assistant cook. What do you expect to get for your twelve dollars a month and found?" "Well, I'd hate to meet him up an alley on a dark night, especially if he had a knife," persisted Ralph. "If ever villainy looked out from a fellow's face it does from his." "Don't wake him up, he is dreaming," laughed Bert. "I do not like thee, Doctor Fell, The reason why I cannot tell; But this one thing I know full well, I do not like thee, Doctor Fell," quoted Dick. "Come out of your trance, Ralph, and look at these two junks just coming out from that point of land over there," rallied Tom. "Those fellows handle them smartly, don't they?" It was a glorious evening off the China coast. The _Fearless_ had hoisted anchor and turned her prow toward home. Every revolution of the screws was bringing them nearer to the land of the Stars and Stripes. The sea was like quicksilver, there was a following wind, the powerful engines were moving like clockwork, and everything indicated a fast and prosperous voyage. The boys were gathered at the rail, and, as Tom spoke, they gazed with interest at the two long narrow junks that were drawing swiftly toward them. All sails were set and they slipped with surprising celerity through the water. "They both seem to be going in the same direction," said Ralph. "It almost looks as though they were racing. I'll bet on the--What was that?" The ship shook from stem to stern as though her machinery had been suddenly thrown out of place. The captain rushed down from the bridge and the mates came running forward. The boys had leaped to their feet and looked at each other in dismay. Then, with one accord, they plunged down in the direction of the engine-room. Before they reached it they could hear the hoarse shouts of MacGregor and his assistants as they shut off the steam, and the ship losing headway tossed helplessly up and down. "What is it Mr. MacGregor?" asked the captain. "I canna' tell yet," answered Mac. "Something must have dropped into the machinery. And yet I'll swear there was nothing lying around loose. But I'll find out." A minute or two passed and then with a snarl and an oath, he held up a heavy wrench. "Here's the thing that did it," he yelled, "and it didn't get there by accident either. I ken every tool aboard this ship and I never set eyes on this before. Somebody threw it there to wreck the engines." "To wreck the engines," repeated Captain Manning. "Why? Who'd want to do anything like that?" "I dinna' ken," said Mac stubbornly. "I only know some one must ha'. I'd like to get these twa hands of mine on his throat." "Has any one been here except you and your men?" asked the captain. "No one--leastwise nane but the Chink. He stopped to say----" Bert jumped as though he had been shot. The Chinaman of the villainous face--those junks putting out from land! Like a flash he was up the ladder and out on the deserted deck. His heart stood still as he looked astern. The two junks were seething with activity and excitement. The decks were packed with men. All pretense of secrecy was abandoned. The stopping of the ship had evidently been the signal they were expecting. All sails were bent to catch every breath of air, and long sweeps darted suddenly from the sides. The prows threw up fountains of water on each side as the junks made for the crippled ship like wolves leaping on the flanks of a wounded deer. Bert took this in at a single glance. He saw it all--the Chinese accomplice, the carefully prepared plan, the wrecking of the machinery. His voice rang out like a trumpet: "Pirates! Pirates! All hands on deck!" Then, while the officers and crew came tumbling up from below, he rushed to the wireless room and pressed the spark key. The blue flames sputtered, as up and down the China coast and far out to sea his message flashed: "Attacked by pirates. Help. Quick." Then followed the latitude and longitude. He could not wait for a reply. Three times at intervals of a few seconds he sent the call, and then he sprang from his seat. "Here, Howland," he shouted, as his assistant appeared at the door. "Keep sending right along. It's a matter of life and death. Let me know if an answer comes." Then he grabbed his .45 and rushed on deck. A fight was coming--a fight against fearful odds. And his blood grew hot with the lust of battle. Short sharp words of command ran over the ship. The officers and crew were at their places. The women passengers had been sent below and an incipient panic had been quelled at the start. The officers had their revolvers loaded and ready and the crew were armed with capstan bars and marlinspikes beside the sheath knives that they all carried. There was no cannon, except a small signal gun on board the ship, and this the pirates knew. The battle must be hand to hand. The odds were heavy. The decks of the enemy swarmed with yelling devils naked to the waist and armed to the teeth. They were at least five to one and had the advantage of the attack and the surprise. The boys were grouped together at the stern toward which the junks were pulling. All had revolvers, and heavy bars lay near by to be grabbed when they should come to hand-grips with the pirates. They looked into each others eyes and each rejoiced at what he saw there. Together they had faced death before and won out; to-day, they were facing it again, and the chances were against their winning. Yet they never quailed or flinched. The spirit of '76 was there--the spirit of 1812--the spirit of '61. They came of a fighting stock; a race that could face and whip the world or die in the trying. They glanced at Old Glory floating serenely above their heads, and each swore to himself that if he died defeated he would not die disgraced. Their fingers tightened on the butts of their weapons, their teeth clinched and their eyes grew hard. The captain, cool and stern, as he always was in a crisis, had divided his forces into two equal parts. He himself commanded on the port side, while Mr. Collins took charge of the starboard. A long line of hose had been connected with the boiling water of the engine room, and two sailors held the nozzle as it writhed and twisted on the rail. Had there been but one junk, this might have proved decisive, but, in the nature of things, it could only defend one side of the ship. The pirates were proceeding on the plan of "divide and conquer." As they drew rapidly nearer, they separated, and while one dashed at the port side of the ship, the other swept around under the starboard quarter. Then a horde of half-naked yellow fiends with knives held between their teeth swarmed up the sides, grabbed at the rails and sought to obtain a foothold. A volley of bullets swept the first of them away, but their places were instantly taken by others. The boiling water rushed in a torrent over the port side, and the scalded scoundrels fell back. But it was only for a moment and still they kept coming with unabated fury. Bert and his comrades fought shoulder to shoulder. Their revolvers barked again and again and the snarling yellow faces were so near that they could not miss. Many fell back dead and wounded, but they never quit; and when the revolvers were emptied, a number of the pirates got over the rail, while the boys were reloading. Then followed a savage hand-to-hand fight. Iron bars came down with sickening crashes; knives flashed and fell and rose and fell again. The pirates were gaining a foothold and the little band of defenders was hard pressed. But just then reinforcements came in the form of MacGregor and his husky stokers and engineers. They had been trying desperately to repair the engines, but the sounds of the fight above had been too much for them to stand, and now they came headlong into the fight, their brawny arms swinging iron bars like flails. They turned the tide at that critical moment and the pirates were driven back over the sides. They dropped sullenly into the junks and drew away from the ship until they were out of range of bullets. Then they stopped and took breath before renewing the attack. They had suffered terribly, but they still vastly outnumbered the defenders. The boys reloaded their revolvers, watching the enemy narrowly. "I wonder if they have enough," said Dick as he bound a handkerchief around a slight flesh wound in his left arm. "I don't think so," answered Bert, "their blood is up and they know how few we are as compared with themselves. They certainly fought like wildcats." "They're live wires sure enough," agreed Tom. "They--why Bert, what's the matter?" he exclaimed as Bert sprang to his feet excitedly. But Bert had rushed to the captain and was eagerly laying before him the plan that Tom's words had unwittingly suggested. The captain listened intently and an immense relief spread over his features. He issued his orders promptly. Great coils of heavy wire were brought from the storeroom and under Bert's supervision were wound in parallel rows about the stern of the ship. At first sight it looked as though they were inviting the pirates to grasp them and thus easily reach the deck. It seemed like committing suicide. The work was carried on with feverish energy and by the time the pirates swung their boats around and again headed for the ship, there was a treble row of wires about a foot apart on both the port and starboard side. The revolvers had all been reloaded and every man stood ready. But the tenseness of a few minutes before was lacking. For the first time since the fight began Captain Manning smiled contentedly. "Don't fire, men, unless I give the word. Stand well back from the rail and wait for orders." On came the pirates yelling exultantly. The silence of the defenders was so strange and unnatural that it might well have daunted a more imaginative or less determined foe. Not a shot was fired, not a man stirred. They might have been dream men on a dream ship for any sign of life and movement. The crowded junks bore down on either side of the ship, and as though with a single movement, a score of pirates leaped at the rails and grasped the wires to pull themselves aboard. Then a wonderful thing happened. From below came the buzz of the great dynamo and through the wires surged the tremendous power of the electric current. It was appalling, overwhelming, irresistible. It killed as lightning kills. There was not even time for a cry. They hung there for one awful moment with limbs twisted and contorted, while an odor of burning flesh filled the air. Then they dropped into the sea. Their comrades petrified with horror saw them fall and then with frantic shrieks bent to the sweeps and fled for their lives. * * * * * And so it befell that when the good ship _Fearless_ drew up to the dock at San Francisco, the young wireless operator, much to his surprise as well as distaste, found that his quick wit and unfailing courage had made of him a popular hero. But he steadfastly disclaimed having done anything unusual. If he had fought a good fight and "kept the faith," it was, after all, only his duty. "Well, yes, but admitting all that," said Dick, "it's so unusual for a fellow to do even that, that when it does happen the world insists on crowning it. You know. "'The path of duty is the road to glory.'" Neither knew at the moment how much of prophecy there was in that quotation. For Glory beckoned, though unseen, and Bert in the near future was destined to win fresh laurels. How gallantly he fought for them, how splendidly he won them and how gracefully he wore them will be told in "Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner." THE END Transcriber's Notes: --Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). --Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected. --Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved. --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved. --Page 149: oe ligature expanded (manoeuvering). 
45490	----	[Illustration: Shoulders squared, head up, young Renaud stood beneath his wireless aerial.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ STAND BY The Story of a Boy's Achievement in Radio _by_ HUGH MCALISTER _Author of_ "A VIKING OF THE SKY," "FLAMING RIVER" "STEVE HOLWORTH OF THE OLDHAM WORKS" "THE FLIGHT OF THE SILVER SHIP" "CONQUEROR OF THE HIGHROAD" THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK ------------------------------------------------------------------------ STAND BY Copyright, MCMXXX _by_ The Saalfield Publishing Company Printed in the United States of America ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CONTENTS I THE CRYSTAL WHEEL II STRANGE EXPERIMENTS III HOT WIRES IV THE GANG TAKES A HAND V TAPS VI AMAZING THINGS VII HARNESSING LIGHTNING POWER VIII COMPRESSED POWER IX SARGON SOUND X A PENCIL LINE XI A MYSTERIOUS CALL XII THE NARDAK XIII WITHIN THE SILVERY HULL XIV DANGER AHEAD XV SHAGUN XVI QUEST FOR CAMP XVII BESIEGED XVIII PROSPECTING XIX IN THE GONDOLA XX F-O-Y-N XXI KILLERS OF THE ARCTIC XXII HOPE AND DESPAIR XXIII FIGHTING THROUGH XXIV ON TO GLORY XXV FROM THE DESERT OF ICE ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Stand By CHAPTER I THE CRYSTAL WHEEL There it stood--a great glass wheel, half submerged in the dusty clutter of an old outhouse filled with broken chairs, moth-eaten strips of carpet, and a tangle of ancient harness. Lee Renaud, spider webs draping his black hair and the dust of ages prickling at his nose, persisted in his efforts to clear this strange mechanism of its weight of junk. At last it was freed, a three-foot circular sheet of glass mounted on a framework of brass and wood. Held against the wheel by slips of wood were pads of some kind of fur, now worn to a few stray hairs and bits of hide. The circle of glass turned on an axis of wood which passed through its center, and attached to this was a series of cogwheels and a handle for cranking the whole affair--at considerable speed, it appeared. Lee Renaud backed off a bit as he stared at the thing. Glittering in the dim sunlight that filtered into the storage shed, it looked strange, almost sinister. But then the boy had found everything here at King's Cove strange and outlandish. King's Cove! It sounded rather elegant. Instead, it consisted of a handful of shacks that housed a little village of farming and fishing folk, an ignorant people given over to poverty and superstition. King's Cove had been aristocratic in its past. A fringe of rotting, semi-roofless "big houses" up beyond the cove testified to the long-gone past when a settlement of rich folk had set out great orange orchards and camphor groves in that strip of South Alabama that touches the Gulf of Mexico. All had gone well until the historic freeze of 1868 had ruined the tropic fruits and emptied the purses of the settlers. After that, the population steadily drifted away from King's Cove. Squatters came in to fish and to scratch the soil for a living. Of all the old-timers only Gem Renaud remained. He loved the semi-tropic climate, the great oaks swathed in Spanish moss, the bit of sea that indented his land. He preferred remaining in poverty to moving elsewhere and beginning life over again. So he lived on in a white-columned old house that year by year got more leaky and more warped. Then Gem Renaud had slipped and injured his leg. And Lee Renaud had been sent down by his family to look after his Great-uncle Gem. Lee's home was in Shelton, a pleasant and progressive town. Lee's mother was a widow. Her two older boys were already at work. This vacation, Lee had counted on his first steady job, work at a garage. But because he was not already working and could be spared most easily, the lot had fallen on him to be sent down to King's Cove. And here at King's Cove the boy felt that he had stepped back into the past a hundred years or more--the queer ignorant villagers; no electricity, only candles and little old kerosene lamps; no automobiles, only wagons drawn by lazy, lanky mules or by slow oxen; homemade boats on the bay and bayou; Uncle Gem's great tumble-down old house where Pompey, the negro that cooked for him, lighted homemade candles in silver candlesticks and served meager meals of corn pone and peas in china that had come from France three-quarters of a century ago. When Lee went down to the shack of a country store for meal or kerosene, the village loafers looked "offishly" at the tall boy with close-clipped black hair, knickers, and sport cap usually swinging in his hand. Lem Hicks, the storekeeper's boy, Tony Zita, one of the fishing folk, and other lanky youths, barefooted and in faded overalls, seemed to have no particular interest in life save to lounge on boxes in front of the store and spit tobacco juice into the dust. Sometimes when Lee passed the line of loafers, he caught remarks muttered behind his back--"Stuck-up! Thinks he's citified, ain't he!" Once when Lee got home, he found mud spattered on his "store-bought" clothes--and he hadn't remembered stepping in a puddle either! Uncle Gem was a queer figure himself. The tall, stooped old man with his sideburns, his chin-whiskers, his long-tailed coat of faded plum color, was a prisoner of his chair now. As Lee, all dusty and cobwebby, burst in from the storage room, his questions about the strange crystal wheel woke a gleam of excitement in the old man's eyes. "The glass wheel--you never saw anything like it before, eh?" Uncle Gem's long fingers tapped the chair arm. "Gadzooks! That was our old-time 'lightning maker.' My brothers and I had a tutor, one Master Lloyd, a Welshman, and a very conscientious, thorough little man. He used this mechanism to prove to us boys that electricity, or 'lightning power,' as he dubbed it, could be tapped by mankind." "And did he--could he?" Great-uncle Gem nodded emphatically. Lee Renaud's own black eyes lighted with excitement, too. Electricity! Why, he was so used to it that he had always just taken it for granted--electricity for lights, cars, telephones. And yet here was a man in whose childhood it had been a mere theory, a something to be gingerly toyed with. But that old wheel must hold power--or rather man's groping after power. "Wonder if I could make electricity with it?" Lee was thinking aloud. "Umph, of course, if there's enough left of the old mechanism to hitch it up right. I could show you--ouch! Confound that leg!" In his interest in electricity, the old man had forgotten his injury and had tried to put his foot to the floor. "Wait, wait, Uncle Gem! Pompey and I can carry you, chair and all." The darky and Lee finally did achieve getting Mr. Renaud down the steps and out to the dusty, cluttered storehouse. Then Pompey departed for his kitchen, muttering under his breath, "Glad to get away. Pomp don't mix in with no glass wheel and trying to conjure lightning down out of the sky." "Pomp's not very progressive," old Gem Renaud smiled wryly. "Lots of other folks around here too that are superstitious about this business of trying to get electricity out of the air with a piece of glass." For the rest of that day and for other days to come, the work of renovating the strange old wheel went forward. There was more to be done than one might think for, and so little with which to do the repairing. Propped in his chair, old Gem directed, and Lee, scraping up such crude material as he could in the cast-off junk about the place, tried to carry out his orders. A brass tube, set in a standard of glass and branching forward so that its two arms nearly touched the crystal plate, had once been set with rows of sharp wires like the teeth of a comb. Most of these were missing now, and Lee spent the better part of one day resetting the empty sockets with metal points patiently hacked from a bit of old barbed wire fencing. Next, the moth-eaten pads of fur must be replaced. "Glass and fur," puzzled Lee. "That's a strange combination." Gem Renaud tugged at his chin-whisker while his mind went searching back into the past. "That book of science, we studied as boys, explains it, if I can just remember. It was something about 'a portion of fair glass well rubbed with silk or fur or leather begets this electrica.'" "Why, there seem to be all kinds of rubbers or exciters. I reckon though, since fur was used on this contraption at first, fur is what we better use again." Lee Renaud got up and stretched his legs, then went outside. He had remembered seeing some squirrel skins tacked to old Pomp's cabin door. And now he was going forth to do some bargaining. "Hey, Pompey," the boy held out his best silk necktie, "how about trading me those skins for this?" The bright silk was most beguiling. The negro hesitated a moment, then capitulated. "Yas, sir, I'd sho like to swap. I--I reckon I might's well trade. You take along them skins, but please, sir, don't connect me in no way with any glass wheel conjuring you might be using those squirrel pelts for." Restraining his laughter, Lee solemnly agreed and soon departed, carrying four good pelts with him. He cut out good-sized pieces of the fur and nailed these on the four blocks of wood that had held the original fur pads. Then he fixed the blocks back in their places on the frame so that the revolving glass would brush between the two pairs of pads, one pair at the top, and one pair at the bottom. Cogwheels had to be geared up and a new handle made to replace the old one that had rotted. It was dusk of day before Lee Renaud was ready to test out the ancient "lightning maker." Great-uncle Gem sat erect and eager in his chair. Pompey stood in a far corner, holding a candle for light, rolling his eyes in something of a fright, but sticking by to see after Marse Gem, no matter what happened. Lee's heart half smothered him with its excited pounding. Creak of rusty cogs, whirl of the wheel, fast, faster! All in a tremble, young Renaud brought his knuckle near to the row of metal points set so close to the revolving disc. His hand was still a space from the metal when with a sharp crackle a spark leaped across. He had done it! He was making electricity--like those old experimenters! Lee burst into a wild shout. With a sudden booming detonation, a gunshot roared across the little room, dwarfing every other sound. So close it was that Lee Renaud felt a bullet almost scorch across his face, and heard it thud viciously against a wall. Pomp's candle clattered to the floor, went out. There came a sound as though Great-uncle Gem had slumped across his chair. Outside, stealthy footsteps made off into the darkness. CHAPTER II STRANGE EXPERIMENTS The shot that rang out in the night was echoed by a yell from Lee, who dropped in a huddle beside the glass wheel. For a moment he crouched there, fighting against a wild desire to crawl back under the clutter of rubbish, and hide. What did it all mean? In the dark silence beyond the open window, what manner of fiend was waiting to shoot down innocent people? But a muttering and moaning and sounds of difficult breathing came to him from other parts of the room. Uncle Gem, old Pomp, both of them might be wounded, dying! He couldn't crouch here like a craven and leave them to their fate. Lee forced himself to action. He began to crawl across the room to where he knew there were some matches and a candle. Fumbling around in the dark, he at last got the candle lighted, stood up and looked about him. Pompey, face downwards upon the floor, was moaning loudly, "Lordy, Lordy, the lightning of the air done struck us, like I knowed it would--" "Lightning nothing! Don't you know a gunshot when you hear one?" burst from Lee. "If you're not hurt yourself, come help me quick with Uncle Gem--he looks like he's dead!" "Oh, Marse Gem, is you kilt?" Pomp, who had suffered no injury save fright, rolled to his feet and came on the run, his kindly old black face all distorted with grief. Indeed Gem Renaud did look like one dead. He hung slumped sideways, half fallen out of his chair. His drawn face was ashen, his hands limp and cold. But, though Lee searched frantically, he could find no sign of gunshot wound or oozing blood. Together he and Pompey laid the long figure out at ease on the floor, sponged the face with a wet handkerchief, and rubbed hands and wrists. At last old Gem Renaud opened his eyelids with a slow, tired movement. Then he motioned Lee to prop him up into sitting position. "Just fainted--heart not so good! This shooting--must have been that old fool, Johnny Poolak--taking another shot at the glass wheel--" "Sh-shooting at the wheel?" stammered Lee. "What for?" "What for? For superstition mostly," old Gem Renaud's black eyes snapped angrily, "and some for meanness, too!" As Great-uncle Gem regained his strength, he told about this Poolak, the half-wit, full of fool religions and imbued with all the superstitions that ignorant people hold to. The rest of the uneducated squatters here in the village were about on this level too. Once, long ago, when Renaud had been experimenting with his crude electrical devices, a cyclone swept the fringes of the town. Immediately the ignorant villagers coupled the crystal wheel with the disaster, and Poolak, bent on destroying the source of evil, took a shot at the "lightning maker." "Evidently," went on Gem Renaud, "old Poolak has noted your work out here and thinks you're all set to bring on another cyclone and so has taken another shot at the contraption. If you'll dig out the bullet that's imbedded in the wall beyond our wheel of glass, I'll wager that you'll find it's a silver bullet. Silver is the only weapon to down witchcraft according to all the old superstitions, you know." That night, before he went to bed, Lee slipped down to the old storage room. There, by the light of a candle, he pried with his knife blade into the wall just beyond the crystal wheel. And sure enough, the bullet that he dug out was not made of lead, but of silver. A rough lump that old Poolak must have molded for himself, melting down a hard-earned twenty-five cent piece, most likely! The silver bullet on his palm gave Lee Renaud a queer sensation, a feeling that he had stepped very far back into a past peopled with eerie fears and superstitions. The next day Lee moved the whole apparatus of the glass wheel into an unused room on the second floor of the dwelling house. It was safer up there. A fellow didn't have it hanging over his head that a pious old ignoramus was liable to shoot up one's affairs again with silver bullets. The wheel, with its wooden base and brass tubes, was heavy, so Lee carried it over piecemeal. This taking it apart and putting it back together again gave young Renaud a much better knowledge of it than he had had heretofore. There was the hollow brass prime conductor, supported on its glass standard and so fixed on its frame that the metal points set on the ends of its curved out-branching arms nearly touched the glass plate. Lee knew that in some way the metal points collected the electricity generated on the glass whirl of the plate and conveyed this electricity to the hollow brass collector. But there was something else he needed to know. "Uncle Gem," he questioned, "why is a little chain hung from the fur cushions so as to just dangle down against the floor--what's it good for?" "Gadzooks, boy! You can ask more questions in a minute than I can answer in a year." Great-uncle Gem tugged at his militant chin-whisker. "Wish I could lay hands on Master Lloyd's old schoolbook on the sciences. It explains lots. Let me see, though, it goes something like this. By the friction of the whirling glass plate against the fur cushions, electricity is developed--the glass plate becomes positively electrified, and the cushions negatively--" "Positive, negative--positive, negative," muttered Lee Renaud, shaking his head as if he didn't quite take it all in. "Be quiet, sir!" ordered Uncle Gem testily. "Now that I've started remembering this blamed thing, I want to finish my say. Without the chains, the cushions are insulated, and the quantity of electricity which they generate is limited, consisting merely of that which the cushions themselves contain. We conquer this by making the cushions communicate with the ground, the great reservoir of electricity. To do this, we merely lay a chain attached to the cushions on the floor or table. After this connection is made, and the wheel is turned again, much more electricity is conveyed to the conductor. Now, young man, do you see?" "I--I'm much obliged, Uncle Gem. Reckon I took in a little of it." Lee blinked dazedly and off he went, still muttering under his breath, "Positive, negative--positive, negative." That old science book Uncle Gem was always talking about--if he could only find it, he could learn something. For the rest of the day Lee poked around in the dim and dusty attic high up under the eaves of the big house. Now and again he brought down some volume to submit to Uncle Gem's inspection. But always Gem Renaud shook his head--no, that was not it, not THE BOOK. Then at last Lee found it, a great calfskin-bound old volume stored away at the bottom of a trunk. Even before he carried it to Uncle Gem, he had a feeling this was the right one. It was so full of strange old illustrations, it was so ponderous--of a truth, it had to be ponderous to live up to its name, "Ye Compleat Knowledge of Philosophy and Sciences." Gem Renaud's hands shook with excitement as he took hold of the ancient tome that had played so large a part in his long gone childhood training. "Here's a whole education between two covers. Just listen to the index." Old Renaud began to read, "Astronomy, Catoptrics, Gyroscope, Distance of Planets, Intensity of Sound, Solar Spectrum--" "And electricity, there's plenty about that too, isn't there?" Lee Renaud couldn't help but break in. "Yes, yes," Gem Renaud agreed with him absently, and went on flipping through the pages. "How natural they all look, the old illustrations, the waterwheel, undershot and overshot, the waterchain, the turbine engine! It seems just yesterday that Master Lloyd, the Welshman, had us boys all down at the creek building these mechanisms out of canes and what-not, building them so as they'd really work, to prove to him that we understood what he was trying to teach us." "And did you build electrical things too?" "Why, yes. Master Lloyd sent all the way back to New York to get the proper materials for us." Materials from New York! Lee turned away in disappointment. He had been hoping to experiment some with electricity himself, but what had he out here to work with? Later in the day Lee picked up the old book again and plunged into its strange, stilted dissertation on electricity. He learned that away back in 1745, von Kleist, a priest in Pomerania, had experimented with a glass jar half full of water, corked, and a long nail driven through the cork to reach down into the water. When the old Pomeranian priest touched this nail head to a frictional machine, he got a "shock" that made him think the jar was full of devils. And that ended experimentation for him. But the next year two Hollanders, professors at Leyden University, carried von Kleist's experiment forward till they developed the Leyden Jar, a practical method for storing electricity. To Lee Renaud, stumbling upon all this old knowledge, it seemed that he himself was just discovering electricity. For most of the fifteen years of his life, he had merely accepted electricity as an ordinary, everyday thing. Now the real glory of it smote him, thrilled him, inspired him. He longed desperately to try out these primitive experiments for himself. Here on these pages was given the beginning of man's knowledge of electricity, the beginning of man's struggle to harness this mighty power into usefulness. If only he could "grow up" with this marvelous power, understand it, step by step! A large order, indeed! Especially for a youngster stuck off in the backwoods. But anyway, Lee Renaud flung young enthusiasm and will power into this strange task he was setting for himself. Already he had the crystal wheel that could make a spark, that could generate electricity. But unless that electricity could be "stored," it had no usefulness. So it was up to him to make an electrical condenser. But of what? Umph, well, those old fellows in the past had gone right ahead and used such things as came to hand--and he was going to do the same thing. Lee studied the chapter on electricity in "Ye Compleat Knowledge of Philosophy and Sciences" until he could almost say it by heart. Jar of fair glass, brass rod "compleated" with a knob, wooden stopper, sheets of substance tinfoil, chain of brass, three coiled springs--these were the things Lee needed to make the Leyden Jar, which was to be his first forward step in electricity. Desperately he ransacked the place for "laboratory material" and finally gathered together an old metal door knob, an empty fruit jar, a few links of small chain, some tin cans and bits of wire. It didn't look very scientific--that pile of junk! But Lee Renaud set his jaw doggedly, and got down to work. Since he had no "substance tinfoil," he figured that perhaps pieces of tin from old tin cans might do. So he slit down a can, and cut it nearly all the way off from its bottom. The round bottom he patiently trimmed till it would just slip in through the neck of the jar. By rolling the tin sides smaller, he managed to push the whole affair down into the jar, where the released roll of the tin sprung itself out to fit neatly against the inside surface of the glass. Then the outside had to be "tinned" and Lee kept trying until he found a can that was a good tight fit when the jar was pushed down into it. And there, he had made a start! Instead of tinfoil, the jar was at least covered in tin in the prescribed manner two-thirds of the way up, inside and outside. Instead of "ye brass rod" that the old book called for, he used a length of wire which he "compleated" with the old brass door knob. He thrust this wire through a wooden stopper he had whittled to fit the mouth of the jar. He had no metal springs, but decided to make the contact with the bit of chain fastened to the end of the wire. When this was thrust down into the jar, the little chain rested on the tin bottom, which was still in part connected with the tin side lining. Lee Renaud had worked terrifically hard at his job, but now that he stood back to inspect the finished product, it looked more like junk than ever. It didn't seem humanly possible that such a thing could be an adjunct to collecting power, to storing the marvel of electricity. Half-heartedly Lee held the knob of the jar to the metal points set against the crystal "friction maker." After a few minutes of this, he grasped the jar in his left hand and experimentally approached his right thumb towards the knob. There came a scream and a rattle of glass and tin as the jar was flung from Lee's hand to smash into a hundred bits on the floor. The boy leaped high in the air and came down, apparently trying to rub himself in six places at the same time. CHAPTER III HOT WIRES Lee's screech and the crashing clatter of glass and tin brought old Pompey on the run to see what the "devils in the jar" had done now to Marse Lee. From the next room sounded the pounding of Uncle Gem's cane as he thumped the floor to summon someone to tell him what was happening. Lee hurried to his uncle, looking rather sheepish, and rubbing his elbow where the "prickles" still tingled. "No, sir, not hurt; just got kicked a little," he reassured the old man. "That thing I made looked mighty innocent, but it had power to it--more'n I thought for." Lee Renaud's first experiment lay smashed all over the floor, but he didn't care. He could make another Leyden Jar, for he still had the shaped pieces of tin, the knob, and the rest of the necessities. In spite of the smash, he was terrifically thrilled--he had tapped power, real power that time! He had learned something important too: electricity was not anything to be played with. It was as dangerous as it was powerful. With his next Leyden Jar, Lee went forward more carefully. There was a contrivance of his own that he wanted to try out this time, too. And a very crude contrivance it was--nothing more than a length of wire and two long slivers of a broken window pane. The boy gave the wire a twist around the outer tin and left one end free. Then he charged the inner tin negatively at the friction machine, and the outer tin (wire and all) positively, at the positive pole of the mechanism. Next, oh so carefully, gripping the free end of the wire between the two strips of glass--he didn't crave any more shocks like that first one--he brought the wire close, and closer up towards the brass knob. Before he could ever touch wire to knob--Wow! There it came! Snap, crackle, across the air-gap shot a spark an inch long! Lee's hands trembled a little as he laid aside his glass pincers. Sure enough, he had done something this time. That was such lively electricity he had gotten penned up in the glass jar that it couldn't wait for any connecting metallic pathway to be made but had to go leaping across the air-gap. Power! Power! He was tapping it--and getting a wild excitement out of the job. It was all true! True! Just like the old book said! And the musty, ancient volume was full of queer diagrams and elegantly stilted descriptions of other strange experiments. As he turned the pages, Lee Renaud longed to try out more of these things--all of them, if possible. "Think of it!" Lee muttered admiringly. "That old fellow, Volta, without any friction wheel at all, just piled up some metal and wet cloth and got an electric current! By heck, I want to try that! I want to make a 'Voltaic Pile,' too!" The makings of the Voltaic Pile sounded simple enough. Just some discs of iron and copper piled up with circles of wet flannel placed in between. Volta had connected his iron discs and his copper discs with two different wires. Next he touched the ends of the two wires together, and--hecla! He found that electricity began to flow between the copper and the iron. But when he started out on the hunt for this material, Lee soon ran aground. He got some pieces of iron all right, and as for flannel, a moth-eaten wool shirt in an attic trunk would do for that. But the copper--there seemed to be none anywhere on the whole Renaud place. Finally old Pompey came to the rescue. "I don't know nothing 'bout copper, but you might find it down in Marse Sargent's junk pile. He's been dead a long time, but he sho must a throwed away a heap of stuff in his day. Folks been carrying off what-not-and-everything from that junk pile in the gully for years--and there's still yet junk left there smothered down in the weeds and the bushes." Following Pompey's directions, young Renaud strode along the little woods path that the old darky had pointed out to him. At first he went forward whistling gayly, but after a while the spell of the forest laid its silence upon him. Sometimes the narrow trail wound through the piney woods where a little breeze soughed mournfully in the tree tops and the afternoon sun slanted downwards to cast a weaving of shadows upon the ground. Then again the little path dipped into close glades of live oak where the long gray moss dripped down from the branches, and where the sunshine could scarce penetrate to dapple the shadows. It was eerie out here in the woods, and silent--no, not exactly silent either. Now and then a bird call drifted on the air. And occasionally there came a slight crackle of brush. Now Lee heard it off to the side of him, now directly behind. Was that a stealthy padding, a footstep--was he being followed? Time and again the boy whirled around quickly, but never could catch sign of any movement whatever, or of any hulking form lurking back in the shadows. He was being foolish, that was all. He kept telling himself that it was just the soughing of the pine boughs, the ghostly, shaking curtain of the long moss that had gotten on his nerves. Best thing for him to do was to keep his mind on what he had come for, and wind up his business out here in the woods. It was all as old Pomp had said. Just beyond the scarred snag of the lightning-blasted pine, a flat-hewn log lay across the gulch for a foot-bridge. Then a "tollable piece" on down the gully, where it wound in close behind what had once been a rich man's house, Lee found a fascinating tangle of cast-offs partly buried in matted vegetation and drift sand. One wheel and the metal skeleton of what once must have been a dashing barouche, debris of broken china and battered kitchen utensils, rusted springs, a splintered table leg--a little of everything reposed here! As Lee dug into the tangle of junk and vines, there came again the cautious crackle of a twig. Someone was watching him. He was sure of that. But why--what did it mean? It was after he had started home that the mystery solved itself somewhat for him. Lee was stepping along in the dusk, rather jubilant over having unearthed an old copper pot. Its lack of bottom didn't matter--all he wanted was copper. And he hoped a bent strip of metal was zinc. Volta had used zinc in another experiment. Lee strode forward, full of plans of what he was going to try next. Then a tingle of fear knocked plans out of his head as the bushes parted and a hand reached out and grabbed him by the pants leg. All manner of things flashed through Lee Renaud's mind. Remembering how loungers at the store had looked their dislike of him, and how Poolak had carried prejudice further and had taken a shot at his friction-wheel experimenting, Lee had full reason to tingle with fear at that clutching hand. Stealthy footsteps had dogged him all up and down these woods, and now he was being dragged off. The boy stiffened and tightened his grip on the copper pot. He'd put up a fight against whatever was happening to him! Then as the bushes parted more fully and Lee saw the owner of the clutching hand, he almost dropped the pot in his surprise. A wizen-faced, shock-headed youngster stood before him, one arm uplifted as if to shield his face. "You--you don't look so turrible," said the child. "I bin following you all evening, and you don't look so harmful. Anyhow, Jimmy Bobb allowed he wanted to set eyes on you, and I come to take you to him--" "Jimmy Bobb, who's he? What does he want with me?" queried Lee. "Jimmy's my older brother, only he ain't near so big as me. He had infantile para--para something--" "Paralysis, was it?" put in Lee. "Yeah, that's what a doctor what saw him one time said it was. But Johnny Poolak, him that preaches when the spell gets on him, said it warn't nothing but tarnation sin what twisted Jimmy all up. I dunno. But Jimmy, he can't move by himself, just got to sit one place all the time. He heard 'em talking 'bout you. He don't never see nothing much and he wanted to see you. But promise you won't conjure up no imps, no nothing and hurt him." Lee Renaud felt a wave of pity for the bleak existence of the crippled one, though caution stirred in him too. He didn't exactly like to mix in with these Cove people. In every meeting with them, he had sensed their antagonism toward him. If he happened to tread on the toes of their ignorance and superstition, why, like as not they'd fill him full of buckshot! He turned back into the path that led toward home. "Say, you, ain't you coming?" The child clung to him with desperate, clutching hands. "Jimmy, he's so powerful lonesome. He said to me, 'Mackey, you go git that there furriner and bring him down here. Folks tell how he's got store-bought clothes and slicks his hair and looks different an' all. And I ain't never seen nothing different in all my life.' And I promised Jimmy I'd get you. Please, mister, you--you--" "I--yes." The child was so insistent that Lee Renaud found himself following down the path. This by-trail twisted in and out through some thickets and suddenly came out before the clean-swept knoll whereon was perched Mackey Bobb's home. Lee Renaud may have thought he had seen poor folks before, but now he found himself face to face with real poverty. The dwelling was a square log cabin with a log lean-to on behind. Inside was bareness save for a homemade bedstead spread with a faded old quilt and one chair set by the window opening that had no glass but merely closed with a heavy shutter of wooden slabs. Although it was summer, a fire blazed up the mud-and-wattle chimney. Before it knelt a lanky woman in a faded wrapper and a sunbonnet, frying something in a skillet. Lee had met these Cove women now and then out on the road, as they carried eggs or chickens to the store to barter for store-bought rations. Always they had on wide aprons and sunbonnets. He hadn't known they wore these flapping bonnets in the house too. The woman rose languidly from her supper cooking and came across the room. She looked worn out and old without being old. Her clothing was awkward and her hands were work-roughened, yet she held to a certain dignity. "Howdy. I'm right thankful to you for coming," she said. "Jimmy here has been pining for a sight of you. He don't never get to see much." Then Lee saw Jimmy, the prisoner of the old homemade armchair by the window opening. The boy's limp, twisted legs told why he was a prisoner. The body was undersized, and the face was old with pain, but Jimmy Bobb's dark blue eyes were eager, interesting eyes. "You, Mackey," ordered the woman, "draw out the bench from the shed room. And now, mister," extending her hand, "lemme rest your hat, and you set and make yourself comfortable." When he had first stood on the threshold of this house of poverty, Lee Renaud had thought he was going to be embarrassed with people so different from any he had ever known. But here he found genuine courtesy to set him at ease. More than that, the terrible eagerness in Jimmy Bobb's eyes turned Lee Renaud's thoughts entirely away from Lee Renaud. This Jimmy Bobb knew so little, and he wanted to know so much. "Is it rightly true," burst from Jimmy before Lee had hardly got settled on the bench, "that you got a whirling glass contraption up at the big house what pulls the lightning right down out of the sky?" "Well," Lee tugged at his chin in perplexity. How in Kingdom Come was he, who knew so little about electricity, going to explain it to a fellow who knew even less? "Well," Lee made another start, "it's kind of this way. The glass wheel when turned very, very fast between some fur pads, or rubbers, generates a spark of power called electricity. Smart men have proved that this electricity that we generate and the lightning that flashes in the sky are full of the same kind of power. Lightning, you know, shoots through the air in zigzag lines." "I know. I've watched it often. It goes like this," and the excited listener made sharp, jerky motions with his hand. "That's it. And the electrical discharge from a man-made battery shoots out jagged, too, like the lightning. Lightning strikes the highest pointed objects. Electricity does that too. Lightning sets fire to non-conductors, or rends them in pieces. Lightning destroys animal life when it strikes, and electricity acts just that way--" "It sounds turrible powerful," muttered Jimmy Bobb. "What and all you going to do with this here power you are getting out of the air?" "Nothing in particular," said Lee ruefully. "I haven't managed to get any too much of it. But back in the town where I have always lived, there are plenty of folks brainy enough to make electricity do lots of work for them. It makes bright lights and runs telephones and street cars and talking machines--" "How might a street car look? Tele--telephone, what's that?" So the eager questioning went. Lee Renaud found himself leaping conversationally from point to point, drawing word-pictures of a host of everyday conveniences that had seemed so commonplace to him but that seemed almost like magic when recounted to this boy who had never seen anything. In the midst of all this talk, Sarah Ann Bobb, Jimmy's mother, still in the flopping sunbonnet, came forward bearing a tin platter set with the usual Cove meal of corn pone and fried hog-meat. "Set and eat," she said hospitably. "I--thank you, ma'am, no--" Lee leaped up in confusion. He hadn't known he was talking so long. Night had dropped down upon him. "Uncle Gem--he'll be worried--doesn't know where I am, or what might have happened to me. I--I reckon I better trot along," Lee stammered, as he reached for his cap that was "resting" where the woman had hung it on a wall peg. "You, Mackey," said Sarah Ann Bobb with her kind, crude courtesy, "draw out one of these here pine knots from off the fire so you can light him down the path." As Lee said his hasty good-byes, crippled Jimmy Bobb sat in his prison chair like one dazed. "Street cars, 'lectric lights, talking contraptions!" he muttered to himself. "If," shutting his eyes tightly, then opening them wide, "if I could only see something myself, oncet, anyway!" CHAPTER IV THE GANG TAKES A HAND For days after that visit, Jimmy Bobb stuck in Lee's mind. The cripple boy had so little. If only there were something one could do to give him a little pleasure! Then a plan came to Lee. He just believed he'd--well, what he believed was so vague that he couldn't put it into words, but it started him off on a very busy time. Lee turned back through the pages of the old science book, studying a section here, copying off a diagram there in painstaking pencil lines. In between times he roamed the Renaud place from attic to cellar, from old stable yard to wood lot. And the things he collected--a broken pipestem, a bit of beeswax, some feathers, an old cornstalk, wire, a needle, a few threads raveled from a piece of yellowed silk! A strange assortment for a strong, husky boy to spend his time gathering together! Anybody might have thought he had gone as batty as old Johnny Poolak. Only there was nobody to see. And as for bothering about making himself ridiculous--um! well, Lee Renaud was so intent upon his task that all thought of self had gone out of his head. Towards the end of the week, Lee tramped over to the Bobb cabin. "Good evening, everybody! Tomorrow suppose--" in his excitement, Lee twisted his cap round and round in his hands--"suppose old Pomp and I come here and carry Jimmy, chair and all, over to our place. I've got something to show him. It would be all right, wouldn't it?" "Would it! O-o-oh! Think of going somewhere!" Jimmy Bobb swayed in his chair. His eyes seemed to get three sizes bigger. "I can, can't I, ma?" Not being given to over many words, Sarah Ann Bobb merely nodded. But her face was no longer apathetic; some of its tiredness seemed to have gone away. The next day, though, when Lee and old Pomp parted the bushes on the narrow trail and came out on the bare knoll of the Bobb place, things appeared entirely different. There was a change in atmosphere--due to a group of rough-looking fellows massed close to the cabin door. Some of those tobacco-spitting loafers Lee had had to navigate around every time he went to the country store! Like all the Cove people, these gangling youths were an unkempt, taciturn lot. Even as Lee and Pomp drew nearer, they gave no greeting, but merely drew closer together like a guard before the door. Lee Renaud could almost feel the down on his spine prickle as his anger rose against them. What was this gang up to? They had gathered here for something! Must have heard that he and Pomp were going to carry Jimmy over to the electrical shop. Full of the Coveite's ignorances and superstitions, they must have gotten together here to try to interfere with his plans. Well, just let 'em try to stop him--just let 'em! Involuntarily his fists clenched, his jaw tightened. He was going to give Jimmy a good time--as he'd planned! He'd fight 'em all before he'd give up! Renaud strode forward, with old Pomp edging back a little behind him. Lem Hicks, who seemed to be leader of the gang, detached himself from his fellows and stepped out into the path. When the long-armed, hulking Lemuel spoke, what he had to say came nearer knocking the wind out of Lee Renaud than any fist blow might have done. "We--we allowed we'd carry Jimmy over for you." Lee stood like one rooted to the ground. He couldn't believe he'd heard aright. There must be some trick in it. This rough gang was up to something. His fists, that had relaxed, tightened up again. Another was stepping out of the group, the one they called Big Sandy. He was a tall fellow, but he grasped a couple of poles taller than himself. "Done cut some hickory saplings for to slide under Jimmy's chair for handles, like. Jimmy, he ain't so big, but I allow he'd be quite a tote for just you two. Us four can do it more better--" "Sure--fine!" Lee Renaud's voice surprised himself. He blurted it out almost before he knew it. But there was a something in the eyes of these boys that made him say what he did. It was that same terrible eagerness--like in Jimmy Bobb's--that hunger after something of interest in their meager lives. Little dark Tony Zita (one of those lowlife fishing folk, old Pomp had once dubbed him) darted up close to Lee, a new light in the black eyes beneath his tousled black locks. "You gonner let us see it all--what you gonner show to Jimmy? We ain't never seen no 'lectricity, nor nothing!" It was a lively procession that went forward down the little woods trail between the log cabin and the warped and leaking elegance of the old Renaud mansion. Jimmy Bobb, almost hysterical with excitement, rode like a king in the wheelless chariot of his old armchair. Lem and Big Sandy, being the strongest in the bunch, handled a pole end on either side where the weight was heaviest. The Zita boy and Joe Burk put a shoulder to the other ends of the poles. Mackey, who went along too, and Lee took their turns at carrying. Class feeling had been swept away. The antagonism of these secluded backwoods folk for a "city dude what slicked his hair," the antagonism of an educated fellow toward the narrow, suspicious ignorance of country louts--a new feeling had suddenly taken the place of all this. This group was now just "boys" bound together by an interest. Up in the littered second-story room that served as Lee's workshop, young Renaud didn't need to press very strongly his warning against "folks mixing too much with the dangers of electricity." The great glass wheel, with its strange gearing of wood and brass and fur, laid its own spell of warning on the boys. The old thing did look queer and outlandish. One almost expected some black-robed wizard to step out of the past and "make magic" on it. Well, electricity was a sort of magic, it was so wonderful and powerful, thought Lee, only it wasn't the "black magic" of evil; it was a great power for good. As Lee cranked the machine into a swift whirl, the other boys stood well back, but looked with all their eyes. Like a showman putting his charges through their stunts, Lee put all his crude, homemade apparatuses through their paces. "He's doing it! He's ketching lightning, like they said!" whispered Tony Zita as sparks leaped and crackled across the metal points set in brass so close to the wheel. He showed his Leyden Jar "that you stored electricity in just like pouring molasses in a bucket, then shot it out again on a wire what sparks!" He exhibited his Voltaic Pile, a crude stack of broken bits of iron and pieces of a copper pot and squares of old flannel wet in salt water that, as Lem Hicks admiringly put it, "without no rubbing together of things--without no nothing doing at all except piling up of wet iron and copper--just went ahead and made this here electricity!" "Gosh A'mighty," Lem exclaimed, "that's a smart thing! Wish I could fix up something like it oncet!" Jimmy Bobb didn't have so much to say. He just looked, taking it in and storing it away in his eager hungering brain. Then Lee opened a wall cupboard and brought out his latest treasures--the things he had prepared especially to show Jimmy Bobb what electricity could do. He came back to the group now, bearing the piece of broken pipestem in his hand. It was a clear, yellowish piece of stem, with a pretty sheen to it. Lee handed it to Jimmy, along with a rag of flannel cloth. "Rub the yellow stuff with the cloth," he ordered. "Rub hard." Jimmy's legs might be feeble, but his arms were strong. He put in some sharp, vigorous rubs, his face excited but withal mystified. He didn't know what it was all about, but he was making a try at it. "Now that's enough." As he spoke, Lee scattered some downy feathers on the table. "Reach the yellow piece out, somewhere near the feathers," he went on, "and see what'll happen." Jimmy stretched out the old piece of pipestem, and the feathers leaped up to it as though they were alive. "Well, I'll be blowed!" shouted Jimmy, trying the experiment time and again, and each time having the fluff leap up to cling to the stem. "What is it? What makes it act all alive?" "Electricity." Lee Renaud picked up the broken stem. "This thing is amber. I just happened to find it in a junk pile. An old book told me about how people found out long ago that 'delectable amber, rubbed with woolen' would generate enough electricity to draw to itself light objects." "I'll be blowed! Well, I'll be blowed!" Jimmy Bobb kept saying to himself, as he tried the amber and feather stunt over and over. "Just think, I can rub up this here lightning-power myself!" Lee Renaud was not through with his show pieces yet. From the cupboard he brought out the strangest little contraption of all. Upon the center of a stout plank about two feet long, he had erected two small posts of wood. The tiny figure of a man, ingeniously cut out of cornstalk pith, sat in a swing of frail silken thread that hung suspended from the tops of the posts. At one end of the board was an insulated standard of brass. At the other end was a brass standard, uninsulated. Lee carefully arranged this curious apparatus so that the insulated stand was connected with the "prime conductor" of the old glass friction-wheel. Against the other standard was laid a little chain so that the chain end touched the floor, thus making what is known electrically as ground contact. Now the fun began. Electrified by its connection with the prime conductor, the insulated standard drew the tiny figure in the silken swing up against the brass where the figure took on an electrical charge. Then off swung the little man to discharge his load of electricity against the ground contact post at the other end of the board. This way, that way swung the tiny figure, an animated little cornstalk man that for all the world looked as if he was enjoying his high riding. Back and forth, back and forth he swung, pulled now by the positive, now by the negative power of that strange thing, electricity. And he continued to swing just as long as electrical power was supplied to him. Shouts of laughter greeted the antics of Lee's little man. "This here electricity's fun!" "Better'n a show!" "We can come again, huh, can't we?" Altogether, Lee Renaud had a pleasurable afternoon showing off his treasures. His pride was punctured a bit, though, when, upon leaving, one fellow said, "This here 'lectricity's a right pretty thing. Pity it ain't no use for helping folks." CHAPTER V TAPS "What's this? What's this?" A rough voice from the doorway startled Lee so that he nearly dropped the glass jar half full of salt water, in which he was just placing a strip of tin and a long stick of charcoal. The man behind the big voice was a little wizened, gray-headed fellow, with twinkle lines around his eyes that rather belied his gruff manner. "Well, well, well!" boomed the visitor. Lee thought in amazement that he had never heard such a vast bellow proceed out of such a little man. "Um, yes, you must be Lee, Gem's nephew. He told me I'd find you up here. I'm Doctor Pendexter from Tilton, old friend of Gem's. Just now heard about his bum leg and came over to see him. Gem, consarn him, never does write to anybody. Looks like you're getting ready to generate some sort of power. Used to dabble in electrics myself, I have no time for that nowadays. What's that you're up to?" "I was just following out the Volta experiments as best I could." Lee touched the jar with its half load of salt water. "Was trying tin and charcoal for electrodes." "Um! Go on with it." Dr. Pendexter drew up a chair close beside Lee's work table. At first Lee was embarrassed at having an older head watching over his crude tests. However, as he struggled sturdily on with what he had planned to do, interest in the work claimed his attention till there was no room left for feeling self-conscious. With a firm twist at each end, Lee proceeded to connect the tops of his two electrodes with a bit of wire. There, he had done it as Volta said. And if Volta were right, there ought to be electricity passing from one of his crude electrodes to the other. He'd test it in his own way. With a quick clip, he cut the wire in the middle, setting the ends apart but very nearly touching. He laid a finger on the gap. A tiny prickling shot through his finger. The thing was working feebly, but working enough to show that the theory was right. Fine--he'd learned another way of making electricity! Then his excitement quickly faded, leaving him looking rather doleful. "What's the matter? Didn't it work? It ought to. I've dabbled at that experiment myself. It always works--" "Yes, sir, it worked. All the old tests I've tackled so far have. But just something to play with is as far as I seem to get. I can't find out how to apply the power, how to make some use out of it." Dr. Pendexter's quick ear caught the note of tragedy in the boy's voice. To the man came a sudden realization of what a struggle this boy must be having as he strove alone to fathom the almost unfathomable mysteries of electricity. Being a man of action, Pendexter applied a remedy in his own way. "Consarn it all," he roared, "don't look so blasted blue! You're coming on fine, as far as you've gone." The little Doctor cast a quick eye around the room at the bottles and jars, the Voltaic pile and the crystal wheel with its renovated gear. "The trouble is, you're going sort of one-sided with nothing but one old book to learn out of," and he flipped the calfskin cover of "Ye Compleat Knowledge" with his forefinger. "You've got to the point where you need something modern to study. What do you know about magnets and magnetism and electromagnets?" "N-nothing," stammered Lee Renaud in confusion. "Umph!" from the Doctor. "Well, you've been missing out on one of the biggest things in electricity. The electromagnet, that's the king pin of 'em all!" "I've seen little magnets, sort of horseshoe-shaped bits of metal that you can pick up a needle or a tack or the like with. Didn't know magnets had anything to do with electricity!" "You better be knowing it then!" The Doctor banged the table with an emphatic fist. "The electromagnet is the thing that puts the 'go' in telegraphy, the telephone, this radio business. Say, I'm going to send you a book about it, a modern one. You study it!" And with that parting command, the wiry, roaring little man was gone. Staring at the empty chair drawn up close beside his latest experiment in tin and charcoal, Lee Renaud had the feeling that he had only imagined Dr. William Pendexter. The wizened little man with the outlandish voice was queer enough to have been generated out of a jar by one of these old electrical experiments. A few days later though, Lee had good proof that Pendexter was very real--and a man of his word, too. When Lee made a trip down to the village store for a can of kerosene, Mr. Hicks, who was postmaster as well as storekeeper, shoved a package over the counter to him and said, "Today's mail day." (Mail came only three times a week to this little backwash village of King's Cove, and then never very much of it.) Mr. Hicks thumped the packet importantly, "This here come for you. Must amount to something, 'cording to the passel of stamps they stuck on to it." It most certainly did amount to something. When he got off to himself, Lee's hands trembled so that he could hardly tear the wrappings away. Ah, there it was--a big, fat, red-bound volume, with gold letters, "The Amateur Electrician's Handbook." There was information enough within those red covers to set Lee Renaud off on a brand new set of experiments. From a battery made of a trio of glass jars containing salt water, each jar holding its strips of zinc and copper, and fitted with wiring, he charged a bar of soft iron until it was magnetized--but this would stay magnetized only so long as the current was put to it. Then he electrified a bit of steel--and it became a permanent magnet. Lee became more ambitious in his experimenting. He was after power, something that would generate real movement. And so he rushed in where a more experienced hand might have been stalled by the lack of material. But Lee Renaud staunchly refused to be stalled, even though his supply of working material was nothing much beyond bits of tin, iron, some barbed wire, old nails, broken glass, and pieces of brass salvaged from old cartridges. And out of such junk, Lee proposed to make himself an electric motor! Well, that was the next step for him. If he were going forward, he just had to make a motor. His first attempt was the simplest of the simple. According to directions and diagrams in the new red book, he took current from his Voltaic Cell and put it in a circuit through a loop of wire which lay in a strongly magnetized field. The push of power in the lines of magnetic force, through changes in the connections, set the loop to revolving. And there it was, his electric motor! Very sketchy, very rudimentary indeed, but it worked in its own crude way. Later, and after much study, he decided to attempt a real little dynamo. This, by comparison with number one, was to be an elaborate affair, comprising a loop of wire revolving between the poles of a horseshoe-shaped permanent magnet, with two half-cylinders connected to the revolving loop of wire and touched at each half-turn by stationary metal brushes. The metal brushing was to turn the alternating current into a direct current. In the making, Lee ran into all sorts of troubles, mostly due to his poor materials. But he kept on, and at last produced something that sputtered and coughed and was as cranky as a one-eyed mule. But it ran part of the time--enough to teach Lee more about electric motors than all the reading in the world could have done. A few weeks later, Dr. William Pendexter drove his prim little car out again to see how Gem Renaud's leg was progressing--which really wasn't necessary for old Mr. Renaud was coming on finely. He might just as well have admitted that the real reason for driving twenty miles to King's Cove was to see how Lee and electricity were hitting it off. The wiry little man roamed all over the Renaud place and roared his approval of Lee's cranky, balky dynamo. When he was climbing into his car, he called, "Hi there, Lee! I've got to go to Tilton and back to bring something I want for Gem. Want to go for the ride?" To Lee, who for months now had been stuck away down in the backwoods Cove, this trip to town seemed to be bringing him into another world, the progressive world that he had slipped out of for a spell. Drug stores, banks, cars, tall poles for telegraph and telephone wires, electric lights--seeing all these again made his dabblings at Voltaic Cells and the crystal wheel seem truly to belong to a long-gone, primitive period. Pendexter got out at the railroad station, motioning for Lee to follow. He wrote off a telegram, handing it to the operator. All the while Lee stood like one transfixed, staring in fascination at the telegraph instruments on the dispatcher's table. Almost without knowing it, the boy was mentally calculating on the coils of wire, the shining brass. Electricity ran that thing; here was power hitched up and working. Pendexter jerked a thumb in the boy's direction when he had caught the operator's eye. "Plumb batty on electricity!" For once the Pendexter roar was silenced to a mere whisper. "Found him down there in the Cove experimenting all by himself. Consarn it, John Akerly, tell him something about electricity! You know plenty. Got to go by the house for a package--be back." And the Doctor disappeared. Akerly reached out a long finger and suddenly clickety-clicked the instrument. "Want to know something about that?" he queried sharply, but with a grin wrinkling up his leathery face. "I--what--yes, sir!" The click and the voice had startled Lee. "Know anything about batteries?" "I made some that worked--sort of. You mean putting two metal strips in an acid solution so as to produce an electric current. Then a lot of jars with this stuff in 'em, and wired up right--you set 'em together and that forms a battery--" "You've got it, kid! With that much in your noodle, I reckon I can pass on to you something about this telegraphing business. To begin with, I've got a battery here, with a wire from one pole of it passing through my table and going all the way to Birmingham. Say that this wire came all the way back from Birmingham and connected with the other pole of my battery, what would that make?" "An electric circuit," answered Lee. "One that--" "Yes, one that included the Birmingham station in its circle. Only there isn't any return wire--" "Then it isn't a cir--" Lee began. "Yes, it is! Think, boy! This old earth of ours is a mighty good electric conductor--" "Of course!" Lee was crestfallen that he hadn't thought of that. "I've grounded wires myself, and made the circuit." "All right then. We've got our wire going to Birmingham, grounded at the Birmingham station, and the earth acting as a return for our current. Now we'll say this circuit is fixed around some instruments on my table, and fixed around the same sort of instruments on the table in Birmingham. Well, when I start tapping my telegraph key--making and breaking the circuit--won't this current be stopped and started at Birmingham just like it is here? Huh?" "Yes--an instrument on the same circuit." Lee cocked his head sidewise in deep thought. "It just naturally would be." "Well, son, that's telegraphy!" "Telegraphy! Great jumping catfish! Is that all there is to it?" "Er-r, not exactly," said Akerly dryly. "There's the relay, or local battery circuit, the electromagnet sounder, special stuff and duplex work, signals, the code to be learned." The dispatcher paused a moment in his recital, pulled a battered book out of a drawer, opened it at a page full of queer marks, and added, "Here's the code." Lee bent over the page. "I see," he said, then added with a wry grin, "or rather I don't see! How do you hitch all those little signs up so that they mean something on an instrument?" "All right--it's like this. I'll tap the telegraph key for a tenth of a second. That means I've let the current flow for a tenth of a second. We call that a 'dot.' A three-tenths of a second tap makes the 'dash.' Put 'dot,' 'dash,' 'dot' together in all sorts of combinations, and you've got the code. When the fellow at the other end of the line knows the code, he can understand what you're tapping to him." A couple of hours later when Pendexter breezed back into the office, he found the two of them still at it, with the talk switching back and forth about magnetic rotations and cycles and frequency, about multiplying powers and symmetry and resonance. "Looks like you two sort of speak the same language," rumbled the Doctor. "Didn't mean to leave you at it all day but got a patient up there. Had to stop--" "Why, it's--it's late!" Lee looked dazed at the passage of time. "Your work, I didn't mean to keep you from it--" and the boy leaped up. "I like to talk about electricity. Come again and we'll jaw some more." Lanky, long John Akerly shook hands heartily. Lee's mind fairly seethed with the information it had tried to absorb about coils and codes and induction and what-not. Electricity was a language that Dr. William Pendexter spoke too, and the twenty miles back to King's Cove fairly slid by. As they drove up to the high sagging porch of the old Renaud place, the little grizzled Doctor started pulling a wooden box out of the back of his car. Lee put a willing shoulder to it, and involuntarily grunted a little. Just a little old box--but gosh, it was heavy! "Not in here," roared the Doctor, as Lee started to ease the thing down in his Great-uncle Gem's room. "Go on upstairs." Breathing hard, Lee lugged it on, and following directions, slid it down in a corner of his workshop. "That's right! Good place for it. Some junk I'm going to leave with you," rumbled Pendexter. "Get the lid off." The next moment Lee Renaud was on his knees beside the box, touching the contents as though they were gold and diamonds. A code book, some tattered pamphlets full of sketches and diagrams, and these well mixed in with coils of copper wire, screws, an old sounder still bearing its precious electromagnets, some scrap glass and brass. It might all have looked like trash to somebody else, but not to Lee Renaud. Right here under his hand, experimental stuff such as he had never even hoped to buy! He touched one prize, then another. "It's too much! You don't really mean to leave it?" "Leaving it! By heck, of course I am. My wife would skin me alive if I brought that box back home to just sit and catch dust and spider webs again. Never fool with it any more, myself,--no time." "I--I--how will I ever thank you?" Lee couldn't keep his hands from straying over the old sounder and the bits of real copper wire. "Do something with it!" roared Pendexter, backing off testily from any further thanks. "Do something with it, that's what!" CHAPTER VI AMAZING THINGS "Just wonder if'n I'll ever get it right! Wisht I'd paid more attenshun to teacher that year we had one!" Lem Hicks ran a tragic hand through his sandy hair till it stood out like a bottle brush. He sat at the table in Lee's workshop. Before him stood a homemade contraption young Renaud fondly hoped bore enough resemblance to a telegraphic outfit to work. Spread open beside the instrument was the code book, and spread open beside the code book was an old Blue-backed Speller. Lem, with a finger poised above the telegraph key, frantically studied first one book, then the other. It was no use! The excitement of the occasion had driven all the "book larnin'" out of Lem's head. For days he had been planning on this, the first telegraphic message to be sent in King's Cove. But the final effort of "putting words into spelling" and then "putting spelling into code" was too much for him. He just had to tap something, though. Lee, waiting at a similar instrument down in the old storage house, which was the end of their telegraph line, was all set to see if the thing really worked. In desperation Lem clickety-clicked at the only piece of the code he could seem to remember--three quick taps, three long taps, then three quick taps again. And before he had hardly finished, there came a bang of doors downstairs, a gallop of feet on the stairs, and Lee Renaud shot breathless into the room. "In trouble? What's the matter?" he yelled. "Short-long-short, three times each, that's S. O. S., the distress signal of the world. I thought this thing must have blown up or busted or electrocuted somebody." Lee dropped limply on a bench. "Naw," said Lem, flushing shamefacedly. "Every bit of the code 'cept that went clean out of my head. I wanted to get something to you--" "It got me, all right!" Lee burst out laughing. "But say, man, it worked! We've made us something here. That set of taps clicked through to me as clean as anything. When we get some more code in our heads, we can really talk to each other over the wire." Lee Renaud's experimenting with the telegraph set in motion a strange surge for King's Cove, a surge of educational longings. For the first time in their drab lives, some young Coveites "wisht they had sat under a teacher more." In the past these tow-headed youngsters had looked upon the few months of schooling that occasionally came to them as something to be dodged as manfully as possible. Now with the hunger upon them to enter the grand adventure of sending one's thoughts, clickety-click, far away across a wire, the mistreated reading books and dog-eared spellers were dug out and actually studied. "Great snakes! A fellow railly had to know sump'n if he was goin' to put his thoughts into spellin', and then put spellin' into code," remarked one lank youth as he lolled in front of the village store, and Tony Zita mournfully allowed it was "more worser than tryin' to scramble eggs, then tryin' to unscramble them." Great-uncle Gem could hobble around now with his stick. He began taking as lively an interest as the youngsters in Lee's "tapping machine." Quite often he would come limping up to sit in the workshop, his black eyes twinkling beneath bushy white brows at the electrical chatter going on around him. "Just think," Lee was day-dreaming, "if I had wire enough, I could make my battery send a telegraph signal all the way to Mr. Akerly in Tilton, on to Birmingham, maybe on to my home folks in Shelton--" "Wait there, wait there! Hold your horses, young man!" Uncle Gem interposed, not wanting this dreamer to dream too big a dream and then have it crash. "Maybe some day you'll progress enough to send far messages by this wireless we read about, but as long as you're still talking about telegraph wires, just remember that it would cost some few thousand dollars just to string wires from here to Tilton--" "A thousand dollars--um, and some more thousands! Gosh, I didn't know wire cost like that!" Lee's face fell. "I'd been hoping, anyway, that we could stretch a wire on to Jimmy Bobb's so he'd be sort of in touch with folks. He's so--so--" "From here to the Bobb place is more than half a mile. Half a mile of wire is a considerable bit. Here, give me a pencil; let me do some figuring." Great-uncle Gem bent his head above a scrap of paper. "There's the horse lot and the cow pasture--we don't have any cattle on the place these days. All that was fenced once, four strands high. You might as well take what you can find of it and put it to some use." "Hurrah for the famous Renaud-Bobb Telegraph Company!" shouted Lee, leaping up and letting out a whoop like a wild Indian. "Uncle Gem can be president. Who wants to join this mighty organization?" It seemed that everybody did, or at least all the young crew in King's Cove. Taking stock in this booming concern consisted merely in contributing all the labor and man-power you had in you. Stringing up even a half mile of telegraph wire turned out to be a vast task; especially since the wire had to be yanked down from old fences, and some of it was barbed, from which the barbs had to be untwisted. But whenever a Cove youth could be spared from hoeing 'taters and corn or pushing the plow, he rushed off to the Renaud place to work ten times harder. Only this new labor was interesting work--work with a zest to it. One crew logged in the woods for tall, strong cedar poles that were to carry the wires, another crew de-barbed old fencing, still another dug the line of post holes. A great search went on for old bottles to be used as glass insulators. Then the actual stringing up began to go forward. "Mind, you boys," warned Uncle Gem, "don't let anybody's clothesline get mixed up in this. We don't want to stir up any hard feeling round here against our project." Which very likely was the reason why the stringing up halted for a time while more old fencing was de-barbed, and why, in the dark of a night, Nanny Borden's clothes wire miraculously reappeared on its posts. It was hard for untrained hands to set the posts firm and in a straight line, harder still to string the much-spliced wire taut. At last, though, the great day came when the Renaud-Bobb Telegraph Line reached from station to station. The lonely little Bobb cabin suddenly became a center of interest. There was always some youngster happening along who wanted to send a message over the line. Jimmy Bobb's eager mind picked up the code quickly. His long fingers learned to click the key with real speed. The cripple began to know happiness. For the first time in all his starved, meager years, he was getting in touch with life. Then one day while Lee Renaud was away from his workshop, a frantic message came clicking over the crude wires. "That thing's banging like fury up there!" Uncle Gem waved his stick ceilingwards as Lee dashed into the house. The boy hesitated a moment. He had come for a bag, and was going out to the old junk heap in the gully. Right now something new was surging in his brain and there might be some metal on that old carriage frame that would help him. The stuttering of the telegraph clicked on again. "Just some of the gang wanting to gab," Lee muttered, turning away. Then the insistent note of the click caught his ear. "That's--that's S.O.S.!" Up the stairs he leaped, taking two at a time. Sharp and loud came the tap-tap-tap, three short, three long, three short! S.O.S.! Save! Save! Save! Again three short, three long--a little crashing thump of the key--then blankness. "What is it? What is it?" pleaded Lee's clicking key. No answer. "Something's happened! Can't get any answer from Jimmy!" he shouted as he left the house on the run. "Send Pomp for help to Ray's meadow--" Great-uncle Gem, for all his injured leg, must have put some speed into his search for Pomp. For, as Lee sped down the woods path, he could hear the old darky somewhere behind him hallooing, "Help! Help!" and clanging the dinner bell as he headed across the village towards the open hay fields where everybody was cutting grass while the weather held. With that racket Pomp would stir up somebody, never a doubt! But Lee wasn't wasting time waiting on reinforcements. With that last insistent tap-tap call of the telegraph still beating in his ears, he stretched his long legs down the path. Hurtling through bushes, dodging swishing limbs, he burst panting into the clearing of the Bobb hilltop. Here no human sound greeted him. Instead, the awful crackle of flames filled the air. Whorls of smoke curled up from almost every part of the old shingle roof. As he looked, the smoke whorls began to burst into tongues of flame. Lee raced to the door and flung himself inside, shouting, "Jimmy, Jimmy, where are you?" There was no answer. The heat and smoke were nearly overpowering. Lee dropped to the floor and crawled across the room. Yes, here by the ticker was Jimmy's chair, and Jimmy in it, slumped in a huddle. Lifting the limp form to his shoulder, Lee staggered back to the door and out into the fresh air. As he laid Jimmy down in the shelter of the trees on the side off the wind, shouts greeted him. The whole woods seemed alive with people. Pomp and his dinner bell had done their work. While Lee revived Jimmy Bobb, an impromptu water-line formed. Like magic, buckets and tubs and even gourds of water passed up from the spring under the hill to the flaming hell of the roof. Cove women, not being given to style, wore plenty of clothing. Here and there, a wide apron or a voluminous Balmoral was shed, wetted and wielded as a weapon to beat down the flames. Crews of howling small boys broke pine brush for brooms and swept out any creeping line of flame that caught from sparks and headed for the fence, the slab-sided chicken house, or the cow shed. Then it was over. The fire was out. Blackened rafters and a pall of smoke told what a fight it had been. The roof was gone, but the cabin walls stood, and the meager homemade furniture was safe. Sarah Ann Bobb, stirred for once out of her habitual calm, stood near Jimmy, waving her hands and weeping. One of the Cove men detached himself from the smoke-stained group and went up to her. "Don't take on so, Miz Bobb," he consoled awkwardly. "Hit war that old no 'count chimney what must've done it. We aims to build you a new one, and set on another roof. Done plan to start tomorrow, the Lord sparing us!" "I ain't crying sorrowful." Sarah Ann's knees let her down on the ground. "I'm so happy Jimmy ain't dead!" "I'm all right, maw," Jimmy assured her, "but I bet the telegraph's all busted." "Yep, considerably busted, I suppose." Lee sounded inordinately cheerful. "But all the real stuff we need is still here, and we'll be building her over again, good as new, maybe better." "Oh," Jimmy Bobb settled back down, "I'm right thankful you saved hit. Hit sho saved me!" CHAPTER VII HARNESSING LIGHTNING POWER "Aiming for to go up to Renaud's?" asked Big Sandy as he fell into step alongside of Lem Hicks. "Yep! Wanter see how them new fixings up there are going to turn out," was Lem's answer. "You ain't--you ain't sorter scared?" "Scared?" Lem wheeled on Big Sandy, then grinned himself as he saw the teasing grin on the other's face. "Honest Injun, though," went on Big Sandy, "lots of folks round here are scared plumb stiff over this electricity stuff. Old Poolak's had one of his preaching fits. He's been spreading the word that it warn't fire from the chimney what burned Miz Bobb's roof, but lightning fire what our telegraph conjured down out of the sky. According to his tell, it ain't Scriptural to be taking electricity out of the air and hitching it on to man's contrivances. Johnny allows it's tampering with evil and's goner bring down fire and brimstone on the whole Cove 'less'n folks take axes to our newfangled fixings--" "Johnny Poolak better mind his own business and not be mixing in with our wires." Lem's chin went out belligerently. "I'm banking turrible strong on this new fixing of Lee's. It's so mysterious-like, it don't seem anyways reasonable. Yet if it works, it'll be the wonderfullest thing what ever happened down here in the Cove." "Well, I'm for it, strong." Big Sandy flung open the gate to the Renaud yard and went in. Lem followed. The "new fandangle" that Lee was working on now was an attempt at radio. Telegraphy was wonderful enough. But that took wires, thousands of dollars' worth to reach any distance at all. With radio, one merely sat at a machine, turned a key and picked up sound that went hurtling through the air with only electrical power to bear it on. It seemed unbelievable--yet man was already doing this unbelievable thing. And Lee Renaud, stuck off in the backwoods, had the temerity to make a try at this same wonder. Lee was subscribing to a magazine now, "The Radio World." Hard study and the endless copying of hook-up designs from its pages was the way he was preparing ground for his next experiment. By degrees he had gathered together in his old workshop such materials as he could lay hands on. His collection was crude enough to have gotten a laugh out of a regular "radio ham," but it was the best he could do under the circumstances. True enough, little rip-roaring Dr. Pendexter, out of the kindness of his heart, had wanted to buy Lee considerable experimental stuff. But somehow the boy's pride had rebelled at being under too much obligation to anyone. "I thank you, but no, sir," he had stammered, "I can't let you give me everything. It would be different if I could only earn money some way to pay for it--" "There is a way!" snorted the Doctor. "Only I didn't want you fooling away time at it when you could be going forward with electricity. Hell's bells! You've got too much pride!" The way of money-making that Dr. Pendexter pointed out to Lee was the gathering of wild plants for medicinal purposes. Now and again the boy sent in little packets of such things as bloodroot, wild ginseng, and bay leaves. Quite a lot of herbs brought in only a few dollars, but that money wisely expended brought back some very wonderful things through the mail. One time it was two pairs of ordinary telephone receivers; another time it was a piece of crystal; again it was a little can of shellac and some special wire. In addition, Lee had gathered together an assortment of his own--a piece of curtain pole, some old curtain rings, a piece of mica that had once acted as "back light" in an ancient buggy top, a length of stout oak board, sundry bits of wire and second-hand screws and nails. Back in his home town of Shelton, Lee had once listened in at someone else's radio--a sleek affair with all its interior workings neatly housed in a shining wooden case. In those days Lee had never dreamed of aspiring to own a radio, much less aspiring to make one by using an oak board, an old curtain pole and pieces of wire as parts. Throughout the making, the lanky youths of King's Cove "drapped in" on Lee whenever they could, to see how the work was progressing. Now, when Big Sandy and Lem hurried along the shady lane in the dusk, and on up to the workshop, they found Tony and little Mackey and Joe Burk already there ahead of them. "The aerial's done up!" shouted Tony Zita. "Done did it yesterday. Had to finish the job by lantern light." "I helped!" little Mackey Bobb was fairly bristling with pride. "Us all went up through that funny little door right in the roof of this here house. One end of the wire's hitched to a pole that's lashed onto a chimney. T'other end of the wire is rigged to a scantling what's nailed to the barn." "And you're countin' on that high-sittin' wire to pick up music out of the air for you?" asked Big Sandy incredulously. "Jumping catfish, no!" exploded Lee, who was cutting wrapping paper into long strips. "We've got to hitch up a sight of apparatus here in the house, too." "Ain't there something I can do?" Lem Hicks moved over to the bench where Lee was working. Soon everybody was hard at it, doing whatever he could on this strange contraption young Renaud was evolving. The younger boys scraped and trimmed at smoothing off the heavy oak plank that was to be the base of the outfit. Lee had spread around him on table and bench a half dozen "Radio Worlds," propped open to show diagrams full of coils and lines, and lettered at certain points, A, B, C, D, and so on. "This paper says the timing coil is most important, so we better go mighty careful on that." Lee produced a piece of old-fashioned wooden curtain pole, three inches in diameter. "A ten-inch length is all we need." When this core was measured and cut, Lee began to wind it smoothly in the strips of tough brown wrapping paper that he had already prepared. As he wound it on, Lem, armed with the little can of shellac and a stiff feather for a brush, bent above the job and carefully shellacked each piece. After the neatly wrapped core with its dose of the sticky gum had dried out a little, the hardest task of all was undertaken--winding on the wire tuning coil itself. The paper strips had been easy to handle, but managing the lively, wriggling wire was a very difficult task. "Help, everybody! We've got to step lively to get this thing on right away, while the shellac is still some sticky, so it will hold the wire firm." Lee waved his roll of wire, and there was a general rush for everyone to have a finger in this excitement. A couple of fellows held the wire taut, and another couple, gripping the ends of the wooden rod with tense fingers, turned it steadily. As the master hand, Lee laid the coils in place at each turn. With even the simple machinery of a lathe and foot pedal, it would have been an easy job to wind the core. But with only excited boyish fingers to grip and turn, the task was one of considerable difficulty. The wire would writhe and knot. Now and again coils slipped and refused to lie smooth. "Unwind it! Try it again!" Brows bent, mouth set firmly, Lee unwound and rewound, over and over again. This thing had to be right. No use making it if the wire didn't lie smooth and close, without any space at all between the coils. "Um! That looks sort of like it now!" Lee said with satisfaction as he fastened down the last tag end. The other boys drew close and gazed upon it pridefully. "Gosh, it does look right! Slicker'n silk, and 'pears to be real close kin to that there picture in the book," Big Sandy said, holding the illustration of the tuning coil in a "Radio World" up beside their effort in wire and wood. "I thought you was being tollable persnikerty, doing it over so much, but reckon you was right." "The sliding contacts come next. Wonder if we can mount them now?" In lieu of store-bought metallic contacts, Lee produced a pair of old metal curtain rings. "Got to punch holes in 'em so we can stick in the copper rivets." And so the work went forward. Night after night the gang met in Lee's workshop. There was a certain amount of the apparatus that even untrained hands could attend to, such as cutting the four-inch squares of paraffined paper and tinfoil, alternating these in a stack, then placing these between two blocks of wood and screwing them tightly together. This was the "condenser" that, according to the printed directions, was to help the electric vibrations pass through the earphone receivers. Since the human ear alone could not detect the sound waves that touched the aerial, a sort of electrical ear was necessary. And this electrical ear was nothing more than a piece of sensitive galena crystal and a wire of phosphor bronze. If this thing that Lee Renaud was building turned out right, when that phosphor bronze wire came in contact with the bit of crystal, the mysterious sound wave would become audible. Lee himself attended to the delicate task of mounting the galena crystal and adjusting the two rods that held the sliding contacts, also the soldering of various "lead in" and "lead out" wires. Then at last it was all done. For Lee Renaud, this was a crucial time. It didn't seem possible that this homemade contraption of wood and wire and old curtain fixtures could really reach out into the ether and pull down music for its users. According to one of old Pomp's favorite expressions, the young inventor felt "more nervouser than a rabbit what's bin shot at and missed." He would have liked to have tried out the thing alone. But there was no chance of that. Every youngster in the Cove was packed in that old upstairs workshop. Even a couple of flop-eared 'possum hounds had managed to sneak in at their young masters' heels. Here was a full audience and everything set for a great night. On the heavy oak base on the table before Lee, the tuning coil, the crystal detector, the condenser, and the terminals for the head phone plugs were arranged and fitted in their proper places. The last cutting, stripping and soldering of connecting wires had been attended to. "G-gosh, I'm almost afraid to give it a try," muttered Lee to himself. "S'pose it don't work!" He couldn't keep his hand from trembling as he set one of the sliding contacts at the middle of the tuning coil, and moved the other just about opposite. Young Renaud had on one pair of ear phones. Jimmy Bobb and Lem Hicks, heads right together, shared the other pair. Lee, all keyed up to hear something, adjusted the sharp little phosphor bronze wire on the detector until the point just touched the crystal. No sound came. Lee could feel the tenseness of the crowd, could sense the gasp of bitter disappointment from Jimmy and Lem. In desperation, he slowly moved the slider along the tuning coil. Suddenly a burst of orchestra music rolled in to those at the ear phones. Faintly at first, then swelling triumphantly as Lee Renaud slid his contacts along the coil! Those first listeners sat spellbound till others, eager for their turn, snatched away the ear phones. Like one in a trance, Jimmy Bobb sat with the music still ringing in his soul. "Gee," he whispered, "those fiddles, high and sweet, like they was right in the next room!" "And they were really in Gulf City, fifty miles from here!" laughed young Renaud. "Let's make a try for Madsden. That will be a good bit farther--something like a hundred miles." Until far into the night the group stayed "tuned in," excitedly swapping phones, eagerly listening to the first real music in their lives. King's Cove was in touch with the world! It had suddenly come out of the nowhere into the somewhere. A copper rivet slid along a coil of wire, and in a fraction of a second this bunch of boys in faded, ragged overalls was in contact with music in another county, music in another state even! Then there came a swishing thud against the outside of the house as if made by the recoil of wire. "S-s-sh!" hissingly whispered little Mackey, who had been peering out of the window. "Something out on the barn roof--like a man with hisself all humped up, creeping, creeping--" "Somebody's been at our aerial--cut it off!" agonized Lee, realizing to a certainty what that swish of wire against the house had meant. Another had taken in the situation, too, it seemed. The shutters of the next room were flung open and Great-uncle Gem's voice rang out angrily, "What you up to on that roof? Don't be trespassing on my place, you Johnny Poolak!" From the slant of the barn roof a fanatical voice croaked back, "Lightning power belongs up in the sky. The Lord's agin humans what steals his lightning. Fire and brimstone! But the wire's cut! And I'm a-saving King's Cove!" "Better be saving your own hide!" shouted old Gem. And from that second-story window roared a pistol shot. A thud and a bump from the barn roof. Then footsteps crashing off, running through the underbrush. Into the radio room limped Gem Renaud, wiping off a smoking, long-barreled old pistol. "Just shot up in the air," he announced angrily. "But I hope I put enough fright into that old nuisance to run him into the next county." CHAPTER VIII COMPRESSED POWER "How far a piece you goner take it?" questioned Lem Hicks. "You stay here. I'll amble on down to where the road forks off into the woods. That'll put us more'n a mile apart. This outfit worked all right just from room to room, but we're giving it a real try-out now." Lee Renaud's voice was full of suppressed excitement. He wore a contraption, the like of which was never seen before. On his head was a cap of straps that held a pair of radio ear phones in place. On his chest hung a small transmitter that could be adjusted to his lips. Slung against his back, all neatly packed into a sort of knapsack, was a mechanism that operated by means of a crankshaft driven by hand. The whole machine was less than twelve inches square, but so geared that when its hand crank was turned at thirty-three revolutions per minute, its generators made thirty-three hundred revolutions per minute. In Lee's pocket was folded a miniature aerial. Lemuel Hicks wore a similar outfit. Portable radio--that was something ambitious for a youngster to be tackling! But Lee Renaud had made many steps forward since that night when he had put King's Cove in touch with the world with his homemade radio. The Cove itself had stepped out a bit in the last months. It had become a place of sharpest contrasts. Though mule and ox carts still creaked down its sandy village road, within its cabins nightly sounded the tinkle of music which radio, that modern of the moderns, plucked from the air of the great outside world. The radios were homebuilt affairs, some the galena crystal type, some the carborundum type, all patterned after Lee's first attempt--but they got the music, the news, and the latest crop prices. They were waking up the Cove out of its long lethargy. Over in Tilton, Dr. Pendexter had told a newspaperman of the struggle a lone boy was making to master electricity, and had laughed about the whimsy of radio in that backwash, the Cove. The reporter knew a good story when he heard one, and wrote up Radio and the Cove--with a strange outcome for Lee Renaud. That newspaper story was good human-interest news. It was copied by other papers and was read by a far-reaching audience. Then things began to happen. Touched by the pathos of a boy's lonely struggle, radio fans here, there and elsewhere packed boxes of material and sent them down to Renaud of the Cove. Americans are generous when human interest hits the heart. Books, wires, tubes--Lee Renaud was almost swamped in the wealth of experimental material. And Lee even had a visit from one of the regular relay station inspectors. There was talk of making the Cove a step in the Relay Organization of America and erecting a sending station there. The talk died down, but out of the affair Lee got in touch with American Radio Relay and was given a call number, "RL." With the thoroughness peculiar to him, Lee made no spectacular plunge, but went ahead step by step. As he had followed the beginnings of electricity up through that ancient scientific book, so he now tried to "grow up" along with the moderns, in radio. The making of a new type radio transmitter was his dream, but he began his work back at the very beginning. Up in his workshop stood copies of some of the very first radio models. There was a primitive looking Hertz Resonator, or Receiver. It was nothing but a hoop of wire, its circle being broken at one point by a pair of tiny brass balls, with a very small air-gap between. When this resonator was set up across a room, exactly opposite the spark-gap of an electric oscillator, and the key of the oscillator was manipulated, sparks shot across the gap in the wire hoop, even though the hoop was not attached to a current. And that was wireless--the first one! In Lee's collection were also copies of the Branly Coherer and the Morse Inker, and of that amazingly simple radio apparatus with which the inventor Marconi shook the world. As Marconi had built on the discoveries of Hertz and Lodge and Branly, so Renaud planned to build on Marconi. Where other modern inventors had seen the vision of huge transmitting machines and tremendous power, young Renaud's vision was to ensmall radio. Months of work had gone into these outfits that he and Lem Hicks bore on their backs. There was power in them, but of necessity they were crudely built. And now would this simple mechanism transmit sound for more than the few yards for which it had been tested thus far? Time and again as he tramped along, Lee was tempted to halt, set up his outfit, and seek connection with Hicks, waiting at the village. But he had set the forks of the road as his distance, and Lem wouldn't be expecting him before a certain time anyway. At last he was there, where the rambling country road divided, one branch dropping down into the valley, the other leading over a wooded ridge. It was all a matter of minutes for young Renaud to assemble his outfit, erect the folding aerial above his head, adjust the mouthpiece, and crank the handshaft for power. He was in a tremble as he pressed the buzzer signal and tensely waited for some sign that the sound had gone through. But no reply came in through the small ear phone receivers. The whole world seemed suddenly still, save for the faint rustle of wind in the leaves, the twit-twit of a bird off in the woods. "Guess it won't work. It's failed!" Lee's mind was registering dully when, with a hissing "zip" that made him leap clear of the ground, a distinct buzz sounded in the ear pieces. "H-hello! You--you hear me? You Lem!" Lee shrieked into the little transmitter. "Hey! Plain as day! You like to blew my head off!" came the delighted voice of Lem Hicks. "Whoop-la, you done made something, Lee Renaud!" For a spell the two boys passed excited words back and forth through this thing that had made a mile of space as nothing. Then a sudden beat of hoofs down the woods road made Lee leap back towards the ditch. He had hardly cleared the way when a lank bay horse, lathered in mud and sweat, plunged around the bend. At the sight of this strange apparition in head-strap and ear pieces, with aerial wire rising above its head like horns, the horse shied, snorting and plunging. "Hi, be you man or devil?" shouted the mud-spattered rider, trying to rein in his animal. "What for be you rigged up to scare honest folk out of the road?" "I--just trying an experiment," Lee hastily slipped his head free of aerial harness and the mouth and ear pieces, so that he looked human once more. "No time for any of your 'speriments to be hindering me," called the rider over his shoulder, as his horse plunged on down the road. "I'm spreading the call for help. Floods over everything up Sargon Sound! Folks homeless and dying!" and with a clatter of hoofs, he was gone. He was a surprised rider, though, when he galloped into King's Cove village some ten minutes later and found that his news had preceded him. Two little portable radio machines, manipulated by a couple of youngsters, had brought the word faster, ten times faster, than his horse could travel and men were already preparing to set out to rescue the flood sufferers. CHAPTER IX SARGON SOUND A line of wagons were unloading along a ridge of land that overlooked the turbid yellow waters of the Sargon flood. One group of men were stacking sacks of meat and meal, which had been lugged over the hill road to help feed the stricken families that had lost everything. Another group had already started for the woods with their saws and axes to fell trees for rafts, on which to bring off the hundreds of refugees huddled on ridges still showing above the water. "Powerful heavy, and don't feel like nothing to eat," said Jed Prother, giving a disdainful kick against some crates and a pile of metal pieces wrapped in old sacking which he had just lifted off a wagon. "Hi--don't! That's our radio! Might break something!" protested Renaud, coming on the jump. "Radio? Huh!" snorted Prother. "Better have brought meat and blankets 'stead of that thing! No time to tinker at toys down here!" "He must allow to serenade the rabbits and the 'possums--give 'em a little music, perhaps," broke out another of the workmen with a bitter laugh. Lee Renaud started to retort, then checked his words. These fellows had a right to feel bitter, with all their possessions swept away in that rolling ocean of muddy waters. It was an appalling disaster. A cloudburst up in the hills had flooded a whole valley. Trees, houses, dead animals rode the current in a procession of horror. And if help did not reach out soon to the pitiful families marooned on tiny islands, human bodies would be swirled off into that awful drift. The need was great, yet there were so few to do the relief work, and the equipment of homemade scows and lumbering log rafts was so inadequate. Sargon district was peculiarly isolated--fourteen miles from a railroad, not an automobile in the whole valley, no telegraph or telephone connections. Starvation, sickness from exposure, any of a hundred other ills could sweep in on the trail of the Sargon flood before the outside world would be aware of it. These facts stalked endlessly through Lee's mind as, with Lem Hicks to help him, he began unpacking his crates and sackcloth bundles in a tiny cabin on the edge of the flood. Here was wireless apparatus, a fearful jumble of it! This stuff might work--and then again it mightn't. "Two strong huskies! Better be rowing a boat 'stead o' tinkering!" was a jeer that drifted in through the cabin door. Maybe they ought to, and yet--with a sudden out-thrust of chin, Renaud settled back to work. Jeering be blowed! He must carry on as best he could. Shades of all inventors! Lee Renaud had brought to Sargon Valley his old Marconi model, with a wild scheme for hitching a receiving circuit on to it. He had lugged down, also, his two crude little portables for field radio use, but they were too unperfected as yet to depend on for any distant use. And "distance" was what young Renaud had to get in an emergency like this. Lem Hicks thought that in all these months he had learned a bit about wireless. But he was lost in trying to follow the complexities of the improvised wiring plan Renaud was flinging into shape. Batteries, induction coils, couplers, transformers seemed to fairly spring into place. In his haste, Lee appeared to be rushing the work with incoherent carelessness, but in fact he was following a wiring plan of rigid exactitude, binding, twisting, tying wires with fingers that knew the meaning of every move. Lem, unskilled as he was, could only fetch and carry. "Lively now! Let's get at the aerial! Where's the hammer, the chisel?" Like one demented, Renaud drove himself and Lem Hicks, too. Here was a bewildering tangle of coils and tubes hitched onto the little old-fashioned Marconi "brass pounder" of electric wireless telegraph. Then at a touch from Lee the spark began to sputter. Adjustments, and it sputtered more. "Now--now! It's hitting it up! And I'm going to CQ Mobile till the cows come home!" muttered Lee between set teeth. "That's the nearest big city and we got to have help out of 'em for down here--quick!" To the crackle of the spark, the "urgent" call sped over watery waste and land ridges towards civilization. Every few seconds Lee eased up on his telegraphic tapping and switched over to listen. "Ah, we've touched a station!" "WDK talking! Point Hope Amateur Relay. Who are you, brother? New station, eh? Glad you're on the air." On and on the string of Morse rolled in. "Idiot!" snorted Lee in disgust, switching his key back to transmission with a vicious jab. "We've got to have action, not gab!" Then with steady spark he hammered relentlessly, "S.O.S.--S.O.S.--S.O.S.--Help! Help! Save!" That brought Station WDK up to taw in a hurry, knocked the gab out of him, and held him keyed for business. "Shoot! Who's in trouble? We stand by to help!" flashed in the message. Lee settled down to transmission. His code poured out in a steady stream from the brass pounder. "RL Amateur Station calling. Sargon River district flooded. Need immediate help. Cut off from everywhere--no railroads--no telegraph. Need food, tents, doctors. Pass on the call!" On through the day Lee Renaud stuck to his pounder, CQing up and down the whole state of Alabama, sending word of the dire need. Mobile, Anniston, Birmingham--the cities over the state were tapped into touch. Yes. Help was coming. Red Cross was answering the S.O.S. of the lone operator down in the flood country. "O.K. for you, Flood Station RL. On the way with supplies, tents, doctors, couple more radios and relief operators. Army Post sending emergency airplanes. Coast steamer at Mobile wants to head up the Sound for rescue work. Can she make it?" And so, hour after hour, Lee Renaud kept his old Marconi sparking--taking innumerable calls, sputtering back directions in Morse. Then his little portable radios had their inning. Lem Hicks, with one of the fieldpack mechanisms on his back, traveled the return trail till he was halfway between Sargon and King's Cove. From here he relayed the flood reports from Lee on to Jimmy Bobb at the Cove. This was done to ease the minds of the King's Cove folk who had plenty of kin all up and down Sargon Valley, and were anxious for news. It was a blessed thing, though, that young Renaud had pounded his old Marconi on longdistance calls for aid through the day, for the night hours brought a new and worse disaster. A great power dam, fifty miles up the Sargon, broke under the pressure of water, and by early morning a second flood rushed down and widened the first flood by miles. CHAPTER X A PENCIL LINE Lee did not know just what had happened in that brief interval when he nodded at his post, but he awoke to find himself sprawled in the midst of radio wreckage on the floor of his cabin, which was reeling and rocking, adrift in the flood. Water swishing over his face had brought him around. It was coming in fast now, and the cabin was sinking. He would have to get out. Something must have struck him when the flood swept off the cabin, for his head throbbed dizzily. Nevertheless he managed to climb to the rafters, dragging with him his little shoulder-pack radio though he feared the fall had ruined it. Hacking with his pocket-knife, he tore off enough shingles to let himself out on the roof. All about him stretched a horrible yellow sea. On its drift were other flood-loosed buildings, tangle of house furnishings, swollen dead animals, bellies up, and now and then a human corpse. Like some frail skiff sucked into the wake of a great ocean liner, Lee's sodden little roof rolled smashingly against a big two-story cupolaed dwelling that was careening magnificently on its way to the Gulf of Mexico. The boy was catapulted into the air, then down into the flood, and came up, swimming for life. When the waves flung him against the big derelict again, he clung desperately to the ragged planking of what once must have been the porch, caught his breath, and began to draw himself up into this new haven of doubtful safety. Heavy with weariness and the weight of water, it was a momentous matter to inch himself up the house wall to gain a high window sill and to crawl over. Half-fainting from exhaustion, he fell inside on the slippery floor. A voice beat in his ears. It was startling to have words come out of that shadowy corner across the room. "Hi, stranger! A perilous ride we're having!" Lying on the floor was a heavy-built man with iron-gray hair, and skin bronzed almost to mahogany. His face was drawn with pain and one leg was stiffly bound in crude splints made of broken chair slats. "Captain Jan Bartlot, explorer, welcomes you to his home." A hand was extended as Lee crawled across the floor. "Devil of an exploration we're on now! Looks like our last one, though I've been in worse fixes and come out--once in Egypt, another time in Borneo." Lee felt that this was some mysterious dream he was having. The flood, the drifting, this man with bronzed face and queer accent--all seemed part and parcel of the dream. It was too strange to be true. But it was true. And this did look to be the last voyage in this life for the man and the boy unless rescue came to them. But how could they get help--how let people know of their perilous position? His radio could do it! If only he could make it work. Lee's whole body was a mass of weariness; his head was still dizzy. But as his senses cleared, he mechanically set to work to repair his little shoulder-pack radio. On the wave-rocked floor he spread out the parts. The heavy little cogwheels, the crankshaft, the coil of stout wire--these could be patched together. Lee rummaged through the derelict house for repair material. He smashed open the swollen doors of closets and cupboards and found glass jars, some tins, nails and pieces of wire. With these he went forward with his task. But it was hopeless! He could find nothing to replace the delicate network of minute wiring that had crossed the little selenized sheets in the transmitter and receiver. The blow that had torn this fragile meshwork away had destroyed all usefulness of the radio. There was nothing for Lee to do except wait and watch the flood wastes for some rescue boat. Meantime he would try to keep the stranger with the broken leg as comfortable as possible on that dipping, careening house floor. It is remarkable how, in times of dire stress, two utter strangers can be drawn together. In a short time they are as old friends. Friendship made and cemented by danger! Lee Renaud and Captain Bartlot talked of many things. One could almost forget present danger in listening to Captain Bartlot, mining explorer, tell of the weird, out-of-the-way places of the world where he had gone in search of the rare stones and minerals that were his hobbies. He had prospected down in tropic jungles, where one had to dodge the poison darts of black head-hunters, where one encountered monster animals and reptiles. He had gone into the Arctic wastes, into the underground treasure-houses of buried cities, into the tombs of the ancients. "If this ark of ours would only stop pitching so, why, boy, I'd show you some of the specimens I have in this case," Bartlot said, his hand touching a leather roll that lay beside him on the floor. "There's one of those rare green fire-diamonds from out of an Aztec king's tomb, and a piece of nickel-iron star stone from a meteor that fell in frozen Greenland. Rather far extremes, eh? A New York museum wants to buy my collection. I came back to my old home where I could catalog my specimens in peace and write up their histories for museum records. And after all my travels and close calls, here I am in my own living-room, my leg smashed by a cabinet sliding across the floor, and the whole house adrift on the flood tide of my native Alabama River." The lurching of the drifting house ended the sentence in a groan, as the injured man, despite Lee's efforts, rolled across the floor. "The water is coming in fast now," said Lee. "Do you think I could help you upstairs?" With a bed slat for a crutch, Bartlot labored up the stairway, young Renaud lifting and tugging to the limit of his strength. Somehow they accomplished it though Bartlot fell unconscious when the last step was achieved. Diamonds in their leather roll and some useless radio junk had no particular value in a crisis like this. Nevertheless, Renaud returned to the first floor and carried these possessions, some tins of food, and a couple of soggy blankets up the slippery stair. Step by step, the hungry waters crept up and up behind him. What would the end be? Would this sagging, sinking building last much longer? A booming detonation hurled a negative answer to the question. A floating mass of logs and uprooted trees had crashed into a portion of the old house. Lower and lower in the flood tide rode the battered derelict. The water was coming up to the second floor. There was still the cupola tower above the roof. If they could reach that! With a blanket knotted under the unconscious man's arms, Lee began to drag him up the narrow, ladder-like stair that led into this turret. His heart was sick at the horrible jolting he had to inflict on the injured man. A blessing on his unconsciousness! It must hold him in its pall until--until--now they were up! Lee carried their belongings up this second flight, and wedged the trapdoor down between them and that creeping flood below. Here was safety until the house battered to pieces in the torrent. Jan Bartlot came out of his stupor and lay very still, clenching his teeth against groaning. Death lurked near. To keep his mind off the boom and thunder of the flood, off the lap of water creeping, creeping up toward their last refuge, Lee Renaud bent over his wrecked radio. His fingers straightened a loop of aerial here, made a connection there, cranked at the motor shaft for power. It was all no use. Too much of the selenized plate wiring missing! But he had to be doing something. Crouching in this last lift of floor space, he idly drew his pencil point back and forth across the tiny receiver plate, outlining the mesh of missing wires--and almost screamed as a faint buzzing seemed to follow in the path of the pencil lines. Extraordinary! Out of all reason! Electricity following a pencil line as though it were a wire! A faint hope burned! Like a madman, Lee cranked at the generator arm, adjusted transmitter and receiver, shot the buzzer. And like a miracle sweeping over that yellow torrent, a sound came to him in the receiver: "Renaud? That you? Been searching all night. First buzz signal just hit us. Where are you?" "Stand by, Lem!" Renaud cranked frantically for more power. "Out in an old cupola top house--sinking fast. That double sugarloaf mountain peak looms just to the west of us." "Airplanes searched there last night," wirelessed young Hicks. "Must a missed you. Coming again, two of 'em!" But it wasn't an airplane that rescued them after all. To get an injured man out of a drifting house and aboard a ship of the air was beyond question. So Renaud stuck to his post till one of the rescue motor boats could thread the flood litter and circle in near enough to get a hawser to the derelict. Supporting the half-conscious Bartlot on life-preservers that had been flung to him, Lee kept his burden afloat till both could be drawn aboard. * * * * * In that night, when Lee had been swept adrift, the Sargon Sound district had seemed to progress a hundred years. Yesterday it had been a land on foot or on mule-back, without telephone or telegraph. Today on a height above the flood, a city of tents had sprung up. Motor trucks, muddy to the wheel top, showed how transportation had been accomplished. Supplies in stacks, a long hospital tent, doctors, nurses, a flotilla of seaplanes moored in the crescent-shaped harbor! A line of refugees filing into a field soup kitchen, and more refugees coming into safety aboard a bluntnosed steamer that had been scouring the islands! Radio had done it! Radio had brought the assistance of a whole state to the relief of the flood sufferers down in this isolated district. "Gosh!" Lee exclaimed as he stepped from the putt-putting little motor boat, "folks sure answered the call of that old Marconi 'brass pounder' in something like a--like a hurry!" "Sho did!" Lem Hicks' voice was fervent. "And, boy, when you brought radio down here, you done something!" CHAPTER XI A MYSTERIOUS CALL The winter following the Sargon Valley flood was a busy one for Lee Renaud. The spectacular success of his little "pencil line" radio outfit brought him considerable newspaper notice. He even had offers from one or two radio concerns for the outright purchase of his portable model. But both his staunch friends, Dr. Pendexter and Captain Bartlot, advised against the sale of his rights in the little mechanism he had invented. It was in a crude state now but, developed and improved, it might have the makings of a fortune in it, especially if it could be advertised in a big way. So Lee sent in an application to Washington to have his model patented, and then dropped back once more into the oblivion of King's Cove, and hard work. The mysterious pencil line that had acted in the place of a wire connection, and so had saved his and Bartlot's lives, had proved to Lee Renaud that there were many hitherto undreamed-of agencies for radio improvement. The boy longed to experiment in a big way with those crystal detectors that act as the electric ear of radio--such as zincite, and bornite, and silicon-antimony. But working with what materials he had, Lee improved his little machine until instead of a mere ten-or twenty-mile reach, he stretched its sending power to a hundred, then to two hundred miles. Lee's vision grew. He dreamed of radio encircling the earth. Since his own little mechanism had stretched its call to reach on from twenty to two hundred miles, why couldn't it be improved to reach across frozen wastes of the far north, across jungles, across oceans? Oh, for a chance to study modern radio! A chance to live with one of those splendid, modern sending machines that concerns backed by huge wealth were producing! He had been going it so alone. It was a blow to young Renaud when he found that Captain Bartlot was leaving the Gulf Coast, going north for an indefinite stay. Lee had come to depend greatly on the encouragement and advice of this tall, bronzed man who, for all of his quiet look, had lived through more hairbreadth adventures than most folk even dream could happen. It was to place his museum collection, which he had spent the better part of his life in gathering, that Captain Bartlot was going to New York. Before he sailed, though, as a parting gift to Lee Renaud, he laid in the young fellow's hand a bit of odd-looking stone in a tiny box. "That doesn't look like much of a gift to a fellow who has stood by you on the 'burning deck,' or rather on the sinking housetop," he said with a laugh. "But if you happen to want to turn it into a bit of money for your experimenting, the Brant-Golden Jewelry Company over in Tilton would likely be interested in it." Some weeks later, when a tall, dark-haired youngster, who had made the twenty-mile trip to Tilton on horseback, slid the tiny box with the bit of stone in it across the jeweler's counter, the Mr. Brant, of Brant-Golden, undid the wrappings rather diffidently, emptied the contents into his hand with a careless flip--then indulged in a shout and a sort of Indian-dance leap that jounced his pince-nez clear off his dignified nose. "Why--er--ah! An ancient Egyptian balas-ruby, cut octahedronal!" He balanced it on his palm, turned it so that the facets caught the light, now pale rose, now deepening to orange. "Don't see one in a hundred years over here. Must be the stone Jan Bartlot was telling me about. Say, young man, I'll give you five hundred dollars for it!" Lee Renaud opened his mouth--shut it. He was too surprised to say anything. "Eight hundred, then, if it's real!" Mr. Brant mistook Lee's silence of pure surprise as negation of his first offer. Then, as if afraid the strange ruby might melt in his hand, the jeweler dashed into his testing room. The balas-ruby was real, a semi-precious stone. It was the peculiar ancient Egyptian glyph, or inscription sign, cut into its back that gave the stone its triple value. His head still reeling with amazement, Lee rode back to the Cove with a check in his pocket--the first eight hundred dollar check he had ever seen in his life. He had not dreamed that Captain Bartlot was making him such a gift. The money was a wonderful boon. Not all of it went into radio experimentation, however. A part of the sum re-roofed Great-uncle Gem's leaking old mansion. Another part went to Lee's mother back in the North Alabama city of Shelton. And there were still some funds left to invest in the costly experimental material young Renaud had longed for. He pushed on continually with his work of trying for distance, trying to amplify the weak sounds that traveled from far places on the mighty push of electrically generated waves that needed to be magnified and regenerated before the human ear could hear them. Great-uncle Gem was wrapped up in Lee's work. Every experiment held his keenest interest. "Gadzooks!" snorted the old gentleman. "This radio business has added ten years to my life. I was just drying up and aging for the lack of interest in something." Night after night, old Gem sat before the radio Lee had built for him, keeping in touch with the world without moving out of his armchair. "Eh, what's that now?" Gem Renaud waved his cane at a queer-looking metal tube Lee was bringing in from his workshop. This was a brass cylinder some ten inches long by two inches thick. Caps of a silvery metal closed the ends, and a roll of fine wire was attached to each cap. In his other hand, Lee carried a compact wooden case. "Just a new type storage cell and some selenium plates for aerial wave catchers that I want to try out on your radio." Lee dropped down beside the mechanism and set to work. For an hour and more, he tapped and screwed and soldered. "There, that's sort of like it!" He cut on the switch and leaned forward, tense, listening. Clear as a bell, purer and with less static interference than ever before, music from a distant station rolled through the room. "It's those selenium plates," jubilated young Renaud. "They catch the waves better than any other aerial going!" Far into the night, he and old Gem sat tinkering, trying this station and that, enjoying themselves hugely. It was along toward midnight that they picked up a strange message out of the air. "Renaud of the Radio, do you want to go to the Arctic?" Just that; nothing more. CHAPTER XII THE NARDAK As Lee Renaud, burdened with two heavy leather cases, stepped off the train in Adron, Ohio, and made his way toward the station exit, a big bronzed man rushed forward to meet him. "Good for you, Lee!" and Captain Bartlot reached a hand for one of the cases. "You did what I was counting on--came in time to superintend the copying of that portable of yours for the field radio use. Say, want to go to the hotel first or straight out to the Nardak's hangar?" "On to the Nardak!" said Lee. "I couldn't rest till I saw it, anyway." Radio certainly was getting Renaud "somewhere." Like a magic jinnee of old, it had picked him up by the scruff of the neck, swished him out of a dreamy Gulf Coast village, and landed him in this hustling midwestern city that was famed for its rubber factories and its airship hangar. If radio, to be exact, hadn't bodily brought him here to Adron, at least it had been the motive power that had gained for him this trip. "Renaud of the Radio, do you want to go to the Arctic?" That had been the beginning of it all. A puzzling communication, that, to drop in on a fellow out of mid-air. Later had come another message in explanation. Both were from his friend, Captain Jan Bartlot. He was planning a "mush" into the Arctic by airship, to prospect for gold and other valuables. He had sold his jewel collection for a vast sum, and now the call of adventure was taking him back into a life of exploration. Captain Jan was the type of man whom danger lures as a honey-pot lures bees. A great new gold rush was stirring the Western Hemisphere--a flying rush into Canada's frozen Arctic on the hunt for that precious metal. A fur-clad adventurer's discovery of gold-bearing rock in the northern wilds of the Mackenzie Delta had sent men trekking into that frozen land by canoe, by foot, by dog-sled. On his other explorations, Jan Bartlot had followed land trails and sea trails. But now he proposed to follow the air trail up into the Arctic, to take a huge dirigible into that land of storms and snows. It was an expedition fraught with danger, yet one of marvellous practicability----if handled right. Instead of pushing north for many months on a long trek by canoe and sled, prospectors, geologists, mining engineers, mining-syndicate scouts, all the personnel of a vast mining operation could be transported into the north in record time. For this mammoth gold hunt, the modern surveyor's implement was to be the camera, and the connecting link between the various scout parties was to be the "voice of radio." On a dangerous journey like this, radio operators had to have something besides a nimble brain and mechanical ability; they must needs possess courage, stamina. It was remembrance of the way one Lee Renaud had stood by an injured man aboard a sinking, derelict roof in the Sargon flood that had caused Bartlot to offer the young fellow a chance to go on this wild, wonderful expedition. In his long explanatory message sent to Renaud at King's Cove, Bartlot had stated that he wanted to try out the boy's portable radio model as a connecting link between various mining explorations in the field of operation--was offering five thousand dollars for the right to copy this model and test it, provided Renaud went on the trip. A dangerous test he was offering the young inventor, but if it succeeded--well, it meant world advertising, and the Renaud Portable going over the top, big. Would Renaud go? The answer was Lee Renaud himself. After making the necessary arrangements for the care of his Great-uncle Gem, Lee had caught the first train north. As they taxied across Adron, the busy rush of trucks and cars, the clang and clatter of this factory metropolis, and the loom of skyscrapers furnished a thrill for the visitor--but it was as nothing to the thrill of his first sight of a dirigible. Captain Bartlot had wirelessed Renaud that an airship, the dirigible Nardak, was to be their mode of travel. But Renaud had not dreamed how immense this ship would be. Even before he saw the monster of the air, the unique building that housed it loomed before his eyes like some magic growth. There it stood--a master structure in dun-colored steel, semi-paraboloid in shape, like a mastodonic egg cut in half lengthwise. A one-story structure eleven hundred feet long, and tall enough to take a twenty-two story skyscraper under its roof, with room to spare! While their taxi was still some miles from the airport, its enormous bulk dominated its surroundings. Men in impressive uniforms patrolling outside the building seemed like minute toys in comparison. Small wonder, when the doors behind them weighed six hundred tons each and stood two hundred feet high. As the two got out of the taxi and came up the paved way, Bartlot motioned to a couple of officials. "Commander Millard, Chief Engineer Goode," he called out, "here's another of our staff, second in command at the radio--my friend Renaud." "Glad to meet you! Ah--a word with you, Captain?" and Millard, briefly acknowledging the introduction, went aside with Bartlot. A heated argument ensued. Voices, lowered at first, rose now and then. "A mistake--too young, country bumpkin--risk to expedition." Lee had the uncomfortable feeling that he was the subject of discussion. Then Captain Bartlot came striding back, his jaw set, his bronzed face tinged an angry red. At his command, a couple of stationary engines, housed on either side of the building, were set to generating. Under their power the huge curved doors began to roll back, each door moving on twenty steel wheels on a curved track that carried it back along the side of the building. As he stepped forward and took a view down that vast vault, Lee Renaud felt reduced to smallness--of a truth! As he looked upward, there was a sense of surrounding immensity that left him weak in the legs. Two hundred feet up, under the ridge of the roof, toy workmen labored on a duralumin framework that had been lifted up by cranes. Not a sound came from them, they were too far away. Lee Renaud caught his breath. Within this mountain of steel and glass, six football games, a chariot race and a circus could be staged simultaneously. "The largest building in the world without internal supports or columns of any kind," said Jan Bartlot, "and er-r, the only building in the world that has its own peculiar brand of weather. Ah--ca-chu-ah!" the Captain ended in a wild sneeze as a heavy shower rained down upon them. Lee looked about in puzzlement. The sun was shining brightly outside. "Condensation," explained Bartlot. "All sorts of temperatures meet in here, form a fog, and occasionally roll down in rain." "But the Nardak? I thought it was housed in here?" Lee cast his gaze over the vast emptiness. "She's coming in now. Don't you hear the buzzer?" "Bz-z-z!" A radio within the building had picked up the signal from the approaching ship. Men rushed forward from all sides and took their stands at stated intervals along the length of the building. From the magazine illustrations he had seen of dirigibles, Lee Renaud pictured to himself how the Nardak would come--an elongated balloon drifting through the air, casting off thousand-foot lengths of rope for men to seize and drag her down to earth. But the huge Nardak swept into her dock in a very different manner. CHAPTER XIII WITHIN THE SILVERY HULL The Nardak was coining into her hangar--not drifting through the air, but rolling in on wheels. From far down the track line that entered the covered dock came a heavy rumbling. Then a long line of trucks appeared, running smoothly over the docking rails. Anchored to these was the vast, silvery shape of the Nardak, an aeronautical leviathan nearly eight hundred feet long by a hundred and forty feet high. "The Nardak on wheels! I thought it was a ship of the air!" gasped Renaud. "So it is," laughed Captain Bartlot, "but this is the simplest way of getting her into her hangar. Even with these rolling doors opened to make an enormous entrance, there is always the danger that the cross winds and gusts that sweep into the hangar will batter this lighter-than-air craft against the walls or roof. She's been on a test flight. Her crew landed her out on the unobstructed field, then anchored her on wheels for the trip indoors." After the Nardak was in the hangar, the ground crew stepped forward and fastened her ropes through the iron rings in concrete pillars that studded the floor here and there on either side of the docking rails. "We won't have all this assistance and landing paraphernalia to help us when we get up into the ice country," said Bartlot. "But we are counting on another landing method that we are going to try out when the need comes. All right, young man," motioning Lee to follow, "want to see this 'cigar' of mine at close quarters?" The huge dirigible in its sheen of silvery paint did look like a mammoth, tinfoil wrapped cigar--a cigar eight hundred feet long! As Lee Renaud went up the little set of drop-steps and entered the hull, he was overwhelmed at the amazing intricacy of the interior. Seen from without, the simple lines of the dirigible would seem to indicate that it was nothing more than a great gas bag. But within that silvery casing was a structure as complicated as that of a steel skyscraper. Three thousand metal struts criss-crossed in a maze of latticed girders. "Tons, and thousands of tons of weight!" thought Lee. "How can this load even lift, much less fly!" As if in answer to the thought, Bartlot spoke. "These struts--duralumin, an alloy metal, that's what they are made of. There, laid on the floor of the runway, is a discarded girder that's just been taken out. Lift it." Lee took a long breath, got a grip on the thing, gave a great tug--and almost fell backwards. Sixteen feet of girder, and it weighed next to nothing! He could almost lift it with a finger! "And yet the weight of six men couldn't bend it!" Bartlot remarked in answer to Lee's questioning look. They passed on down the catwalk, or metal promenade plank that ran the whole length of the hull. On either side were arranged the great tanks of gasoline that furnished the motive power for the dirigible, and the twenty separate balloonets or gas bags that contained helium, which was the lifting power of the ship. "Here's a case where _a la_ the old rhyme, the cow will jump over the moon." Captain Jan pointed to the gas bags. "These remarkable gas-tight containers are made of thousands upon thousands of portions of gold-beater's skin, which is the small tough section of the intestine of a steer. More than 1,500,000 cattle from the various stockyards contributed to the making of these helium bags--so in the name of science, the cow is going to soar pretty high." One marvel after another aroused Lee Renaud's admiration as his capable guide took him from end to end of the ship, and down through the ladderways that connected with the outside gondolas that housed the engines, the navigating room, the quarters for the crew. There was the great rudder to guide her through the ocean of air, the flippers for elevation, the keel corridor for storage, the laboratory, the photographic room, the instruments for recording speed, height, weather. Wonderful equipment, on a wonderful craft. Yet Lee Renaud found his eyes straying here and there, searching for something more. "The radio-room, eh? I'll bet a ton of duralumin, you're on pins to set your eyes on it. Well, I've saved radio for the climax--saved the best for the last, and I know that's a truth, so far as Lee Renaud's concerned." Captain Jan exploded into his big laugh as he led the way forward toward a compartment in the navigating section of the ship which was built at the bow, just under the nose. This navigating section was arranged with the control-room set first, the chart-house immediately behind, and behind this again the radio-room with its complete broadcasting and receiving equipment. As Lee Renaud got his first eyeful of the Nardak's radio equipment, his breath seemed to cut off and his hair fairly stand on end for excitement. Here was radio--real radio! Into wall panels, from floor to ceiling, were set elaborate mechanisms of grills and tubes and coils. In the center of the compartment was a desk and chair, as though this were some secretarial room in a skyscraper office building. But instead of housing pen and ink and paper, this desk housed the marvelous apparatus that could send word by air, instead of by ink. A man in shirt sleeves, and with head phones adjusted, sat humped over the radio desk, working at a dial. This was Jack Simms, radio chief of the Nardak. As Captain Bartlot made the introductions, a ferocious scowl, emphasized by a great scar across the left cheek, seem to draw up Simms' face, and he spoke shortly, "Howdy, youngster!" with what appeared to Lee unnecessary emphasis on the "youngster." All these veterans seemed to have it in for the youngest member of the crew, and to resent his being thrust in among them. While Simms rather perfunctorily explained to his newly arrived assistant the various parts of this very modern and powerful radio unit, Lee couldn't keep his eyes off the scar across the man's cheek. What Lee did not know, at that time, was that Simms had gained that perpetual decoration by sticking to his radio post aboard a rammed and sinking ocean liner--a post that he held till he had put wireless through to other ships that answered the call and rescued every man jack aboard the wreck. "Now here are our ten-meter transmitters for exploring ultra-short waves," Simms' cool voice went on. "With condensers adjusted for maximum plate current, sounds from quite a respectable distance can be brought into the clear. I'll demonstrate." He turned the tiny marking light on the dial. "That ought to get us Station ZEAF at Brinton, two hundred miles away." As the dial light came to rest, a clear burst of beautiful music rolled through the little room. "That's hitting it up pretty fine." Lee's face glowed. "I reached out to two hundred once with an old battery, some barbed wire and the like. Got the sound, but it was distorted, like the singer was yelling out of the side of his mouth--" "You've made radio, huh? Receiver, or transmitter?" "Both." As Lee, at Simms' prompting, told something of the various experiments he had tried, Bartlot quietly left the room, to return later bearing the leather case containing the boy's portable model. Without a word, the Captain opened back the leather and shoved the contents up under Jack Simms' nose. The latter half arose, then settled back, and went over the little mechanism carefully. He gave a long whistle. "Some points to that, kid!" After that, there wasn't much in the way of radio that Jack Simms didn't go into minutely for Lee Renaud's benefit. Old Simms had found that he and Lee talked the same language--audio frequency, voltage, detector grid input, C3, filter, and the rest of the jargon. * * * * * For a fortnight longer, the preparation aboard the Nardak went forward. On former trips the Nardak had been a floating pleasure palace circling the globe with a crew of forty and with twenty passengers in luxurious staterooms. In view of her impending arduous flight into the barren polar wastes, all of this was being changed. Such luxurious features of the ship as the cabin de luxe and the magnificent passenger saloon were being discarded, and small plain cabins installed. This was done to lighten the load on the ship and increase the capacity for the useful load of food and fuel necessities. During this interim, on a special rush order, an Adron factory pushed forward the work of making six portables after Lee's little radio model. These were for field work on the Arctic barrens. In the airship itself, several structural changes were made. There was the protecting of vital parts against the effects of low temperatures and the preparation of certain special equipment for landing without any help from the ground. Then the great day came. The day for all aboard, and then off, adventure bound! For the last time the huge ship came out of her hangar on wheels. She was ready now to be loosed, ready to take the air. To the high daring of her mission the city of Adron did homage. Horns blared, great factory sirens roared their calls, bands played. Now a wedge of airplanes zoomed across the sky, come to bid the expedition farewell in their own particular aerial style. For this departing mammoth of the air was answering the greatest challenge of them all--a prolonged exploration flight over the vast frozen Arctic. On this exploration were going a wonderful picked crew of scientists, geologists, meteorologists--learned men of many professions had striven for a chance to face any hardship, if only they might go on this expedition to the "geologist's paradise," the fearful, mysterious frozen Polar Region with its lure of unrevealed secrets. Out of the hundreds of applicants, only so few could go--some sixty men. Because this dangerous expedition could be no stronger than its weakest member, its personnel had to be selected with an eye to strength, health and disposition as well as scientific ability. A large order in the way of exploration personnel! Yet Jan Bartlot's genius for leadership led him to pick an astonishingly capable, loyal, brave body of men to companion him into the wilds of the Arctic. There was stocky, blond Norwegian Olaf Valchen who came from Spitzbergen, that far northern settlement. He had long been a lone flyer of the icy wastes, a carrier of dynamite and other mining supplies across the Hudson Bay territory. "Tornado" Harrison of the United States Weather Bureau was going along to "get the weather" for the various undertakings. A most important member of the crew was Sandy Sanderson, the cook. Sanderson was already well up on frigid zone cooking, having dished up seal steak patties and walrus goulash to whaling ships over half the oceans of the world. On this flight, there were explorers who had already battled ice fields with various forms of polar locomotion, some with shaggy Siberian ponies, some with sledge huskies, some with ships of the sea. But now, by ship of the air, by radio, by electricity, Commander Bartlot hoped not only to penetrate the Arctic, but also to explore it. He would have need of all the aids of modern science, for the Arctic world breeds the most fearful of storms, spews forth the most monstrous of grinding, treacherous icebergs, forever shifts its sky lights in a strange visibility that deceives and magnifies and lures with mirages. As the great ship of adventure began to rise, the bands burst into martial tunes. Shouts roared from the throngs below. Handkerchiefs fluttered. A little girl in a red dress held her doll aloft for her father on board to see. Wives, mothers, sweethearts waved farewell. Lee Renaud, looking over the side, felt suddenly engulfed in loneliness. In all that crowd there was not one to personally wish him God speed. The last ropes were being cast off. The vessel rose higher. There came a shout from below. A boy on a motorcycle was threading the crowd. "Telegram! Drop a hook!" was bawled up through a megaphone amplifier. Then the little yellow envelope went fluttering up on the end of a line. "Renaud,--Lee Renaud, it's for you!" Lee's hands trembled as he tore it open. What did it mean? What had happened? From Great-uncle Gem! Lee's eyes devoured the line of words on the yellow sheet. "God bless you, and keep you, and help you to show to the world the stuff you're made out of, Lee Renaud. (Signed) G. Renaud." Lee gulped. "G-gosh, I bet he sold a silver candlestick to get cash to send this!" The boy was humble and exultant at the same time. Somebody believed in him. The ship was riding the air now. It rose majestically, like a gigantic silvery bird, turned its prow into the north and was off. Before the Nardak stretched uncharted wastes--the ocean of air. CHAPTER XIV DANGER AHEAD A new feeling permeated the ship. She was on her own now, headed for the great North. Only a few miles separated her from the city of Adron, but it might as well have been ten thousand leagues, so definitely was the voyage on. After so much confusion of last visitors aboard, supplies being stored, a hundred things underfoot, the crew had to get down to the business of making affairs ship-shape. Some donned overalls, some stripped to the waist. Men moved swiftly along the catwalk, up and down connecting ladders. Up in the keel corridors of the hull men were happily busy. Down in the navigating section men were happily busy. In the heat of the engine gondolas, slung four to each side of the hull, half-naked fellows, with sweat dripping down their bodies, tuned the six hundred horsepower gasoline motors for power, and more power. Ninety, ninety-five, a hundred miles an hour--speed was coming up! They were on the way, hurrah! This huge floating bubble of gas prisoned in fabric was to be men's home for many months. So the expedition settled down to making itself feel at home. Bob Tucker, the expedition's photographer, and three assistants, set to work checking up on the complicated mechanism of the aerial cameras and the million feet of film that was to be aimed at the Arctic topography. Theirs would be the task of getting a picture record of the lay of the land in the mineral section, so as to help the geologists in their scientific deductions. Up in the keel storage room, Arctic scouts went through the assortment of skis and snowshoes, preparatory to the foot-excursions in the land of snow. Slim up-curved sticks of the skis, broad, thong-latticed spread of the snowshoes--methods of snow-locomotion that have come down from man's dim, primitive past! These seemed incongruous aboard this modern sky ship. But Captain Jan Bartlot was combining the best of many ages in this exploration. A little, short-haired dog walked sedately out from the crew's quarters, navigated a ladder-like stair adroitly, and then curled up beside one of the big observation windows. This was Yiggy, Olaf Valchen's pet. Yiggy was an old-timer in the ways of the Arctic, having made many trips across the snow barrens with Valchen in his mining supply transport, a big-winged aeroplane. Out of some bits of fur, Olaf was already making Yiggy a new set of boots for polar walking--since Yiggy, being a temperate zone dog, had not been born with foot-pad protection like the shaggy canines of the land of snow and ice. Here, there and everywhere over his craft went Captain Bartlot, seeing that all things were in proper shape. Before this start for the Arctic could be made, weary months of closest application to detail had already been spent by Bartlot. Equipping an expedition was a huge business. There was the ship itself that had had to be refitted from stem to stern in preparation for bucking Arctic storm and the terrors of the "great cold." There had been waterproof cloth and fur and machinery and radios and tons of food to be bought. Where they were going, there was no grocery up the block to run to. There was no mechanician's shop around the corner, either. So to make a ship of the air safe for getting them there and bringing them back, and safe for landing on frozen polar fields, one had to go prepared with hundreds of extra machine parts. One little missing screw could mean a calamity. A captain must think of dessicated vegetables and canned sunshine for his crew's health. And just suppose they had forgotten to pack the snow moss! They hadn't. It was there in its container, along with reindeer skin boots and the down-lined gloves. On even so slight a thing as a bundle of snow moss does the success of an Arctic trip hang. For without this specially prepared moss to line boots and absorb dampness, the feet of men tramping the blizzard-swept snow barrens would freeze. Just such details as these, and a thousand others, great and small, had to be attended to by Captain Jan and the men who worked with him. A trip into the frozen north was no holiday of leisure; it meant hard work for all concerned. The busiest place aboard the Nardak was the radio-room, with its every space--walls, ceiling, desk--crowded with modern equipment. Here was the powerful short-wave sending and receiving set, an intermediate wave set for communication with near-by cities and other ships of both air and sea, and a radio direction finder. Within this room, a group of mining scouts was carefully taking apart and putting back together one of the Renaud portables, under the watchful eye of Lee. These men must know their radio mechanism. For when the great dirigible dropped these men for scouting in various parts of the Arctic waste, radio would be their only means of communication with the rest of the party. The staccato tap-tapping of radio telegraph seemed never to drop silent. Either Simms or Renaud was always at the desk instrument. As the string of Morse came in, they deciphered the code into plain English, and passed on the slips of paper to Tornado Harrison, weather-getter of the expedition. From Harrison's atmospheric deductions, the route of the ship was plotted. There was constant communication between radio-room, chartroom and navigating section. This Morse code that tapped in so steadily was bringing reports from the United States Weather Bureau at Washington. These reports were the chief aids in navigating the great dirigible. The ocean of air is just as real as any ocean of water; it has its currents and tides and its air-falls, similar to waterfalls, where air pours from a higher to a lower level. It is the lay of the land below that causes the differences in the vast ocean of atmosphere. Mountains, forests, valleys, all produce their own peculiar currents and cross currents in the aerial expanse above. Over hills, the air currents are deflected upwards. Over great flat tablelands, the air flows downward over the edges in vast Niagaras of air. Weatherman Harrison had his air map, America of the Air, all wavy lines and curves and whorls. From observation posts, on land and sea, all over the world, weather news is continually radioed to the United States Weather Bureau. From this mass of information, the Bureau continually computes and makes deductions and predicts impending weather conditions--which it radios back out into the ether for the safety of ships of both sea and air. Thus a far-flung outpost wirelesses: "Storm sweeping southwest from Labrador at hundred and fifty miles an hour." Knowing its intensity, its area, and its initial speed, weather chiefs can tell that the storm will reach Toronto in so many hours, and the Mississippi Valley in so many more hours. Storm warnings tap through the air, radio speeds the word in all directions. In consequence, a mail plane for the West dips south in its itinerary to avoid nasty weather; shipping on the Great Lakes goes into dock or heads for the safety of open water; a mammoth dirigible changes its course to circle around a hail-and-wind-tortured sector of the ocean of air. Between his hours of standing watch at the radio, Lee turned with delighted eyes to the mosaic of rivers, cities, forests and farms spread beneath the ship. Radiograms, together with the great wall map, helped him identify the cities and the scenic wonders over which they passed. They swept above Toledo and the smokestacks of Detroit. In splendid spectacle, the Great Lakes rippled their waters beneath them in the gleaming sun. "Well, well, Lee," Captain Jan came down from the hull-storage section into the navigation car, bringing out for display one of the fur-lined sleeping bags and a snow knife, "how's traveling? What do you think of your first ride in a dirigible?" "Fine!" said Lee. "Only I might as well be sitting out on the front porch back in King's Cove, so far as any motion can be felt. I can't tell I'm moving until I happen to look down and glimpse cities and lakes swishing by at considerably over a mile a minute." "Um--yes, this thing rides a pretty even keel. Not much dipping and diving so far. And now take a look at these." Captain Jan spread out his armful. "No matter whether it may seem cumbersome or not, a sleeping bag and one of these snow knives for cutting a wind-break out of a drift, is what every man must carry if he goes off from the ship any way at all after we land in the ice country. It's a safety rule that I'm laying down." "Er--yes, sir." Lee's answer was entirely absent-minded, his whole attention bent towards the radio instrument, as he leaned forward, listening to every click. "Danger ahead--danger!" White to the lips, Renaud swiftly decoded the wild tap-tapping of wireless into understandable English. "Vast area of storms and tornado-twisters sweeping down upon us, moving at immense speed!" "Orders for engine-rooms, quick! Switch to the gondola telegraphs," roared Captain Bartlot. "Tap in orders, boy! Minutes may mean lives! Reverse flight! Turn the ship!" Before a terror-twister of the skies, man can only flee down the wind. CHAPTER XV SHAGUN Facing a storm, a vessel at sea would have reefed sails and laid low for the blow. But on this great elongated gas bag, there was nothing to reef. She could only turn tail and race the wind for her life. Telegraph orders, rushed from control-room to engine quarters, brought the huge dirigible up short, rearing and plunging like a frightened steed. At touch of the engineers, the marvelous mechanism of drive-shaft and bevel gear tilted each propeller on its axis to throw the ship into reverse and back it around. For so huge a bulk, she wheeled in her tracks with amazing speed. There was need of speed! Even in that short time while receiving the wirelessed warning out of the air and plunging into retreat, great banks of cloud had reared themselves on the horizon, looming black and sinister. With every passing moment they rolled up, darker, heavier. With awful menace, a great droning roar filled the air. The Nardak was turning back on the very fringes of an onrushing storm that seemed to leap out of the nowhere. With a rumble the wind-clouds loosed their first furious gusts in a rage that tore the clouds themselves into a jagged pattern. Ragged openings gave vistas into the still more fearful storm that they had masked! Through the barrage of thunderheads burst a three-headed tornado, three huge twisting wind-spouts that seemed to reach from earth to sky. Writhing, speeding, twisting across the sky, they pursued the Nardak like great devouring serpents. Devourers they were! Terrific wind velocity within those whirling storms could pluck the hair from the human head, could tear a man limb from limb, could wrench a great airship into shreds and splinters. With a rush and a roar, forerunners of the storm seemed to burst upon the Nardak from all quarters, seemed bound to beat the great hulk into submission. Gone was the smooth, swift gliding with which the Nardak had swept northward for more than a thousand miles. In the fury of the gale, the huge ship of the air rocked and plunged. Everything not built in or lashed into place was flung crashing about the hull. Lee Renaud and Captain Jan were careened together and then dashed to the floor and flung hither and yon in a welter of broken furnishings. "Is it the--the end? Will she capsize?" Lee managed to shout to Captain Jan. "Heavy ballast--can't turn over. This pounding within, without, that's the danger." Even as Captain Jan spoke, came a thunderous crash of falling objects within the hull. "The struts--if they break, they'll slash the bags like knives!" Like some hunted wild animal, the Nardak plunged on her way, riding the constantly changing air currents, sweeping on the edges of the storm, dodging between gales, by a miracle of maneuvering never letting herself be completely swallowed in the maw of the storm monster. Behind her, three snaky wind-spouts came together with a concussion that rocked sky and earth. In the twinkling of an eye, the face of the land was changed. Trees, boulders, a whole cliff were swept upward and reduced to powder in the grinding crush of the winds. A great air wave, like some tidal wave of the sea, flung the huge Nardak high as though it were a bit of chaff, sucked it earthward to almost scrape the ground. Then, as swiftly as it had roared into being, the tempest died away. The wind muttered and rumbled low, and dropped into a strange calm. For a little space the airship hung in this calm, quivering and trembling like some spent runner that has barely survived a terrific race. By degrees, the apathy of exhaustion passed from the crew. Battered and bruised, with strained, white faces, the men rallied from their terrifying experience and began to take up their tasks. With apparent serenity, the Nardak went on her way. But in many and varied places, men labored to repair the damages of the storm. The thrashings of a broken strut had ripped the tough cloth-and-membrane lining of one gas bag. It was a total loss--a loss that reduced the lifting power of the dirigible, but did not cripple the ship to any appreciable extent. The builders had allowed an overplus of helium to meet such an emergency. Much more alarming was the discovery of a defect in the propeller shaft and the flapping of wind-torn fabric on the port stabilizer fin. Because Lee Renaud was cool-headed, as well as young and active, he took his part in the emergency repair work that now must be done. There was no halting of the great dirigible on her flight. She simply went into reverse, pointed her nose to the northwest, and took up her storm-broken course once more. If possible, she must keep to her scheduled time of going into the Arctic. For the Arctic summer might last two months, and it might last only a week or so. Arctic summer means a slight melting of snow in wind-swept valleys, means black up-thrust of rock and cliff here and there where the snow-cap has slipped. It is in this brief period, the only time when the contour of the terrain of this ice-locked land is even slightly exposed, that geologist and scientist and gold prospector must make their swift search for the treasure held in Arctic rocks. So without ever slowing down, much less landing, the Nardak held to her course, while men, like tiny midgets, crawled perilously over her hull, within and without. In the crowded quarters of a motor gondola, mechanics repaired and replaced a propeller, all in the space of four hours. That was a hot and heavy task. But the real danger came to those workers suspended in a sort of harness against the outside of the great dirigible to repair its dismantled fin, while the giant ship held to her speed and to her height of a thousand meters in the air. Young Renaud was one of those who let themselves be swung in a net of ropes between heaven and earth, while they plied great needles in the latest thing in "dressmaking," seamstering for a new garment for the stabilizer fin. The tattered condition of the fabric of the port fin was evidence of the suck and pull of the storm she had grazed. More than a third of it hung in shreds. Armed with a huge needle and a cord thread that billowed in the wind, Lee did his share of sewing blankets into place as patching material on the exposed framework. This would have to do till the dirigible made her landing at that last outpost of civilization, Shagun Post on Hudson Bay. As the repair crew made its way up dizzy aerial ladders, back to the safety of the interior of the hull, and walked down the long catwalk that led between rows of fuel tanks, Lee ran his hand through his upstanding black hair and laughingly remarked, "Whew! I'm hunting a mirror. Want to see how many gray hairs I got, swinging out there in that hundred-mile breeze. From the way my knees still tremble, bet it's all--" "Ha-ooo! Ha-ooo! Ha-ooo!" A strange pitiful wail changed Lee's joking into an astonished gasp. It was a wail that came up from the dim, lattice-work shadows of the ship's bottom, some sixty-odd feet below. "Man overboard--I mean, lost in-board!" someone shouted. "Must've gone down from the walk here, in the plunge of the storm. A wonder he can still holler, after being hung down there all this time!" said Olof Valchen. "Ropes!" "Down the ladder there!" "We're coming!" A jumble of shouts echoed through all parts of the ship. Lee was one of the first men to go swinging down a long narrow ladder into the shadowy interlacing of beams and girders. Above the catwalk were lights, but down here was semi-darkness, and a maze of struts that must be threaded. The thin wailing guided him. The gleam of his pocket flashlight glinted on a pair of eyes far below. Then he was there, all the way to the ship's bottom, and touching his hands to a body wedged between girders. As Lee's hands made contact, he gasped at what he found. And Olaf Valchen, who was the next man to get there, echoed his gasp. Then the two of them, sung out: "We've got the rope on! Haul away!" What the men on the planking far above hauled up to safety and a place in the friendly glow of lights, was no man at all, but Yiggy, the little dog. A battered and banged-up Yiggy, but all there and very much alive, as the wagging of his stub of a tail indicated. * * * * * Wireless calls began coming in to the Nardak from the distant north. "What has happened? You are overdue here already!" These calls were from the radio operator at Shagun, the wilderness settlement that would be the dirigible's only halting place on its way to the Arctic. A relay of supplies had been shipped here, the end of both railroad and civilization. The Nardak was to take them aboard so as to enter upon the last lap of her journey as fully fueled and provisioned as possible. Seven hours behind her schedule, the great silver Nardak drifted into the sky above Shagun. The boom of guns and the lighting of a line of signal fires greeted her. These were to call together a landing-crew to lend their aid in bringing to earth the first dirigible ever seen in these parts. For a time, the Nardak hung motionless, then by the use of movable planes and sliding weights, by which the center of gravity was shifted, she slowly began to nose down towards earth. Waiting in a spreading, wedge-shaped formation were two long lines of nearly a hundred men. Not nearly so many were really needed. But every husky denizen of Shagun wanted to have a hand at manning the pull ropes of this monster visitor. Slowly the great ship of the air was drawn to earth in the vast clearing which Lomen Larsen, the Factor of the Shagun Post, had prepared ahead of time for the reception of the sky ship. Here, of course, was no cement landing field and ironringed cement posts to receive mooring ropes, but the ground had been smoothed, and trees served as mooring posts. As Lee stepped off the ship, he felt that he had stepped off into the Land of Contrasts. Here at Shagun ended the shining lines of steel rails over which traveled the mighty engines and loaded cars of the Great Northern. And here at Shagun began primitive transportation by birchbark canoe, shoulder-pack and dog-sled by which necessities were carried on into the North. Bearded white men, Indians, a few slant-eyed Eskimos with cotton garments of civilization donned incongruously atop their native furs, moved along the trails and in and out the low-roofed log shacks. And above these primitive folk loomed the high aerial and mighty masts of a modern powerful radio sending station! But not for Lee Renaud, nor for anyone else of the expedition, was there much time to stand day-dreaming over the strangeness of the long arm of radio reaching out to touch this primitive settlement on the Arctic fringes. For it seemed the great Nardak landed in her open-air dock one minute, and the next the work of loading her new cargo and of further repairing began. Men fell to with a vim. Men learned in geology and meteorology donned dungarees and entered upon a brand-new career of stevedoring. A perspiring aerial photographer and an equally perspiring slant-eyed Eskimo tugged a huge box to the hold opening. Indian trappers and the engineers of the latest thing in air engines labored together at the mountain of bales and barrels and tanks to be put aboard. A dozen times Yiggy escaped his quarters and rushed joyously underfoot to enter battle-royal with shaggy sled huskies that could swallow him at a mouthful--and a dozen times Yiggy had to be rescued from battle, murder and sudden death. Muscles ached, but men joked and bantered and worked all the harder. Then at last it was all aboard--eight hundred pounds of oil, seven tons of gasoline, a thousand pounds of chocolate, pemmican, coffee and hard biscuit, which were to provision this great adventure. Ground lines were loosed, the Nardak rose slowly. A clamorous ovation saluted her from the watchers. Shouts rose in four different languages, the bell of the little log mission clanged its farewell. Lomen Larsen touched off a row of powder-flares in a final uproarious salute. Higher and higher rose the Nardak, then sped northward on her last great stretch of flight. What would happen in this unexplored land? Only the future could answer. CHAPTER XVI QUEST FOR CAMP Lee Renaud's black eyes looked out anxiously from the shaggy fur of his hooded parka or Eskimo coat as he climbed out on the top of the airship to see if ice had formed. Not a pleasant task, this, in a wind pressure created by a speed of over a hundred miles per hour, and with the thermometer at twenty below zero! Good, no ice sheathing as yet on the great shining hull. Coatings of ice and sleet were the danger to a dirigible--these could weight the ship down to a tragic fall. Below the Nardak stretched snow fields, and often great frozen lakes where the ice lay sometimes smooth, sometimes thrust high in grotesque ridges where some throe of nature had hurled up the frozen substance. For days now they had been traversing the snow barrens, a strange white world where daylight held continuously. For this was the land of the midnight sun. Through the summer of this weird Arctic world, there would be months of daylight, with the sun riding from horizon to horizon, but never quite dipping out of sight. With autumn would come a twilight that would merge into the long winter night when the sun left this frozen land to months of darkness. In the present daylight period, the Nardak's men must make their exploration, then flee before the night, back to civilization and home. Ordinarily, the great ship kept to a height of well over two thousand feet, but when the photographers wanted to picture some object, the dirigible would be glided down to a thousand, five hundred, even a mere three hundred feet above ground. Lee Renaud was startled to find that ice sheets which from on high had looked glassy smooth, from the near view stood out in deep ridges and furrows, as though broken by some giant's plowshare. Nature turned some strange tricks up here in this frozen North. Everywhere was white stillness. Not a sign of vegetation; not a sign of animal life--or so it seemed at first. Those untrained in the ways of the Arctic do not at once realize the protective coloring which Nature has bestowed on her denizens in this land of eternal cold. To Lee Renaud, a wind-swept hillside over which the dirigible zoomed low, with moving-picture cameras clicking out film, was--well, was just a hillside dotted with black rocks where the gale had swept off the snow. Then--and Lee opened his eyes very wide--some of the black rocks began galloping off. In truth, these moving objects were a herd of shaggy musk-oxen that had been pawing for snow moss among the rocks till the shadow of the huge ship of the air had sent them snorting off in fear. In a white land, Nature had left these creatures dark colored, because they most often grazed on wind-swept highlands where their dun sides melted inconspicuously into the dark splotches of the landscape. Another time, looking down through the observation window, Lee saw the amazing sight of a snow field that suddenly seemed to leap up into separate white parts and go bounding off across the plain. In this case it was a herd of white caribou that had been huddled at rest on the snow. Scent of danger, borne down on the wind, must have stampeded them. Soon enough young Renaud saw what that danger was, for another line of moving white swept into view--the wolf-pack, white killers of the North! Lee's heart shivered within him. These were so relentless; they knew only the law of fang and claw. Tails straight behind, noses down, the pack swept on down trail, were lost to view. But, ola, in the end the wolf-pack would pull down its prey; it always did! In a snow valley, where mountain cliffs rose protectingly on either side, nestled a row of white domes. Circular hillocks with faint spirals of blue smoke drifting upward from a crevice in the top. Eskimo igloos--the round earth-and-stone huts banked in snow that were the homes of the fur-clad natives of the Arctic! As the huge ship of the air passed like a menacing shadow above this native settlement, fur-clad men crept out from their tunnel-like doors, waved their arms and raced wildly over the snow fields. Seen from the airship, they looked to be tiny ants swarming out of an ant hill. Then a flight of sharp pointed arrows shot up toward the sky, curved back uselessly to earth. The huge ship drifted on serenely, safe in its heights from this puny demonstration. "Must have thought we were some vast evil spirit, drifting up from Sermik-suak, Eskimo spirit-land!" said Valchen who had been much among the Arctic natives and knew their life and beliefs. "The sight of this great gas bag sweeping like a black shadow across their village was enough to strike terror to their hearts and set them on the defensive. On the whole, these Eskimo tribes are a kindly, hospitable lot. Let a man come among them in peace, and they'll take him in and give him the best they have. I've known them, in times of famine, to divide the last morsel of fish, the last chunk of blubber with some utter stranger." Through the speeding miles, the white northland revealed itself to eyes that by degrees were learning to distinguish between the still white that meant snow wastes, and the moving white that meant some animal leaping into action on hoof or padded paw. On the ice of great lakes that were almost inland seas, now and again one glimpsed some shaggy mound of flesh and white fur that was a great polar bear, seeking his food through a break in the lake ice. In the air, the honk of geese, the weird laughter of the long-billed loons flying north in the continuous daylight, often echoed the siren of the dirigible. In the navigating-room, maps and charts were always in evidence now. Across their surfaces, lines drawn in day by day showed the progress of the ship. Its position was checked constantly both by magnetic compass and by sun compass. The ship's course was directed away from northwest and headed due north now. "There it is--the tri-pointed crest of Coronation Mountain!" shouted Olaf Valchen, eye to the telescope and one arm wildly waving, beckoning the others to come and see for themselves. In the distance, like a regal crown, showed the points of a group of mountains, rising above swirling clouds that masked all save the high-flung peaks themselves. "It's somewhere near that range that we'll find Rottenstone Lake--Nakaluka, the Eskimos call it. And when we stand on its shores we'll be standing on wealth. There are rock mounds in this region where the stone is so old, it has cracked and lets the shining treasure veins show through. I know. I've seen it myself." Valchen's usually deep voice was high-pitched with excitement. He pulled from beneath his fur overgarment a tiny map of caribou hide with some lines scrawled upon it. "The hunger fever was upon me when I drew this, some five years ago, but I am sure the lines are right. There's the tri-mountain; and the sun observations I took then tally with our present check-up, in part, anyway." Below them stretched snow field and ice crag. Somewhere in that maze of peaks and ridges lay the frozen waters of Nakaluka and its encircling treasure mounds. In all this whiteness, its frozen waters would be no more noticeable than a tiny grain of dust would be on the expanse of a great plate glass show window. The only feasible method of procedure seemed to be to get aerial photographs, piece together the long strips of film, and from a study of these get an idea of the lay of the land. This would take time. To cruise continually would burn the precious fuel and oil that must be more or less hoarded for the return trip. Better to establish a central camp for sleeping and eating, then to radiate out on air trips at regular intervals. For a time the dirigible forged ahead, the eyes of all watchers searching the snow barrens for a safe base camp. Below them a snow fog began creeping over the land, a mysterious curtain of blue and gray light. As they swept on in this strange haze, snow hills and valleys took on warped, unreal proportions. The official decision was that it was better to land now than to risk crashing into some shrouded peak. At other landing fields there had been hundreds of men to pull at the drag ropes and gently ease the ship to earth. Here there was naught save snow and perhaps a polar bear or two--no very active assistance at landing in that! Lee Renaud, like the rest of the crew, was full of anxiety as to how the new, and untried method Captain Jan was depending on would work. He hurried along the corridor to a trapdoor section where Bartlot and a number of his officers and men were grouped about a great flat metal plate that was connected to a windlass by hawsers passing over two sets of pulleys. In the meantime, the dirigible, by motor power and the use of elevators, had been descending lower and lower, until it was now less than a hundred feet above the great ice field. At a word of command from the Captain, the metal plate was let down through its opening in the ship. They heard when it struck the ice with a clank. Along one of those pulley hawsers had been affixed a heavily insulated length of pliable electric wiring. Now, with hand that trembled a little as he began his great experiment, Captain Jan pushed an electric button that connected power from one of the ship's generators to this wire leading down to the plate resting on the ice far below. This plate was in reality an electric stove. As the current hit it, it was supposed by its heat to sink rapidly into the ice. Then when the electricity was cut off, it would freeze deep and fast into the ice--or so men hoped and prayed it would. After a breath-taking interval, Captain Jan turned the windlass gently, to see if the plate-anchor held in the ice. More and more he wound on the turn shaft--and the anchor held! The experiment was working! A great shout went up from all sides. Many hands cranked at the windlass, taking in the lines, gradually forcing the ship down and down. At last the pneumatic bumpers touched ice. It was all hands out to see what manner of frozen world they had landed in. Viewed from above, this surface had looked smooth enough, but now they found it to be far from a "looking-glass surface." There were up-ended ice cakes and pressure ridges to be clambered over. Of a certainty, water must be somewhere under this ice sheet. For water freezing, expanding, contracting, was what shot up the slabs of pressure ice. This was no pleasant place to dwell. There were whole stretches where the ice floor had split asunder in deep crevasses and purple chasms. Seeming snow hills were mere masks across gully traps. For a night, or for the length of a period that would have been a night had the hazy red ball of the sun ever dropped entirely below the horizon, the expedition rested in this strange ice waste. Then a party set out on foot to reconnoiter the land. Captain Jan, Valchen, a dozen others. Lee Renaud was glad his strong young legs gained him a place in this crew. Of necessity, each man had to bear a stout load. One could not venture out in the bare white wastes without food and weapons, a fur sleeping-bag to crawl into in case of a storm, and a great knife for cutting snow blocks to build a wind-break. Also, the party carried bundles of bright, orange-hued flags to mark their trail. Excitement hung over this little group as they made their start at trail-breaking into the unknown. Some on snowshoes, some on skis, they marched out under the strange glow of the Arctic sun, a glow that sometimes crisped and blistered, but never seemed to hold any cheer in its pale gleams that slanted over eternal ice. After they had crossed miles of ice level and laboriously scaled frozen cliffs, they came down into a strange valley. On every side were snow mounds, like haycocks in assorted sizes, some the height of a man, some as tall as a one-story building. They were the roofs of round pits. Some pressure below had blown up these weird snow bubbles. Bartlot, in the lead, stumbled against one. Its sides caved in and the Captain shot out of sight down in a snow hollow fifteen feet deep. Lines were flung down and soon he was drawn out, breathing hard and pretty well banged up, but luckily not seriously injured. After that, the party moved forward, roped together for protection. Out of curiosity, they now and again slashed openings in the snow domes. Some covered pits fifty and a hundred feet wide, and vastly deep. It behooved them to pick their way carefully here, and to test each step with an Alpine staff thrust into the snow ahead. Behind the party, the orange gleam of the route flags marked a zig-zag trail and showed the way back to the base camp. After threading this valley checkered with pitfalls, and climbing a range of ice hills all pitted and honeycombed by underground pressure, Bartlot's party halted on the crest of the ridge to gaze ahead in blank astonishment. A huge dark blot, a triangle in shape, loomed blackly against the white of a mountain of snow. It was as though some giant, passing up this valley, had painted his huge triangular flag on the smooth white, and had gone on his way. To find the meaning of that mysterious black tri-cornered surface, they must push on to it. It could not be far, just across the valley and up the next height. But "just across the valley" was a deceptive term. In the haze of the ever shifting Arctic lights, horizons are most uncanny things. Sometimes objects far away seem almost under the nose. And again, men find their feet mounting some small rise that in the haze they had thought was far away. Mirages, too, fling processions of strange scenes before the eye. A mountain, a lake, a river looms vividly ahead, then fades back into the shadows from which it has sprung. So it was a good ten hours of hard travel, and stumblings, and dodgings of ice pitfalls, before the exploration party came within "normal eyesight" view of the great black triangle. Then they found that, instead of a black surface on the mountain side, it was a great black hole leading back and back into the mountain depths. "A cave! A whale of a cave!" shouted Renaud who was taking his turn at leading, and had scrambled up the slope a rope-length ahead of the others. It was a whale of a cave--one of those mammoth, finned and fluked creatures of the sea could have drifted in here and brought his whole family with him. The snow domes and pits the party had just passed were as toys compared to this evidence of mighty pressure forces within the earth. Some terrifically violent cataclysm must have flung up these two great walls of rock and ice that slanted together and formed a vast triangular tunnel. At close view, it was a place of beauty. The depths that penetrated the mountain were dark. But here at the mighty three hundred foot entrance all was white. Crystal fringe of ice stalactites hung from the roof like huge prisms on a giant's candelabra. Snow banks, in soft mounds, guarded the opening. Now and again the stiff wind swept flurries from these drifts and scattered the white powder over the floor of the cavern in ever-changing patterns. "A hangar for our dirigible! She could ease into here slicker than a banana into a peel!" shouted Captain Bartlot. "Banana in a peel!" echoed Valchen. "Why, Captain, she could park in here and still leave room for an airplane to sail in rings around her! Whew! Some house we've found ourselves!" "Think I'll do housekeeping over there, set up my portable stove and all." Sanderson indicated a side cave like a wing room off the main tunnel. Electric torchlights were pulled from their packs and put into use. Excited laughter and shouts echoed from the mighty roof and rumbled back through the cave, as they pushed slowly on, exploring wonders as they went. The ice drip on the cave walls had built itself into beautiful fantasies. Here stood a row of mighty columns like the pipes of a vast organ. Over there hung delicate ice lacework. Further on was a scalloped basin with a pillar rising out of it, icy semblance of a statue set in a fountain basin. But even an ice wonder-hall set with frozen filigree could not turn their minds over long from the pangs of hunger. The journey had been one continuous round of labor and anxiety. The steep climb in the rarefied atmosphere told on strength and lungs. So before penetrating the depths of the cavern, the party decided to halt for food and rest. Back near the entrance, they dropped down, eased their heavy burdens to the snowy floor, and joyously opened up their packets of sandwiches and thermos bottles of steaming hot chocolate. As they ate, this advance crew went ahead with their planning of how they could utilize the great tunnel to house the airship. "We can drop the ice anchor out there on the slope," said Captain Jan between hearty bites of a thick meat sandwich. "Then all hands can man the drag ropes and with a little help from the motor, we ought to be able to ease the Nardak into this ready-made hangar as pretty as you please." "And some of the ice pillars will do for anchor posts to knot the ropes a--Hi, what's that?" The big fur-clad fellow who spoke cocked an eye upward. Suddenly zooming almost over their heads, flapping its long wings and quavering its hoarse hooting call, a great white cliff-owl departed indignantly, his raucous voice hurling back protest to these invaders of his icy domain. "Umph!" grunted Sanderson. "Looks like he's serving notice on us that this house is already taken. Don't you reckon we'd better step up the street to the real estate agent in the next block and see what he's got in the way of nice Arctic mansions and cottages to offer us." Sanderson's gay banter choked off in a sputter, and a wild look came into his eyes. A sound swept, through the cave, the long-drawn, shivery "wha-o-o-o-ah!" of the wolf-pack trailing meat. Another moment, and the killer pack surged into view, speeding out of the depths of the cave itself. The men screamed and leaped for the cavern walls, clambering madly up, clinging grimly to ice ledge and ice stalactite, praying that they would bear human weight. CHAPTER XVII BESIEGED "Don't lose your grip, men! Better freeze to the walls than fall below there!" Captain Bartlot's voice echoed through the great ice cave. Dwarfed to mere fly-size by the immensity of vast ice columns and ice-frescoed sides of the cavern, Bartlot's crew clung to the precarious ledges above the white-fanged wolf-pack that crouched waiting, waiting, below. Sinister shapes, long-jawed, powerful, were those shaggy killers of the North. When they had burst, full cry, from the cave depths, a paralysis of fear had numbed the men's brains for an instant. Another instant and they had gone leaping, scrambling, screaming up the ice wall,--with never a thought for food or weapons, never a thought for aught save putting space between them and those slavering, slashing jaws. Endurance gains the wolf-pack its meat--relentless persistence in the chase and untiring watching and waiting for hunger, weakness and thirst to drop some beleaguered creature into their jaws. Green eyes of hate glared up from the cave floor at the men trapped on the ice wall. Red tongues lolled hungrily over long jaws each time there was some faint movement of slipping or sliding, for it might presage a human losing grip and falling into the waiting death ring below. One man did fall--Eric Borden, of the geological surveyors. The ice column against which his lank person was wedged broke and shot him, slipping and clawing, down the wall. The boom of the falling ice, Sanderson's knife hurled below, the flash of the two shots left in Bartlot's revolver--these created distraction enough to hurl back the wolves for a moment, while many hands reached down to rescue a comrade, to haul him back to the ledges. Bartlot's shots had killed a wolf. The knife had drawn blood on another. Snarling and howling, the pack leaped upon its own unfortunates, tore them asunder, devoured them. The men on the ice above shivered and dug deeper into crack and crevice. Wedged precariously between two crystal-white stalactites on the wall, Lee Renaud trusted to the pressure of knee and foot to hold him firm, and thus leave his hands free. In spite of weariness, in spite of nerve rack from the hundred-eyed monster that waited below, Lee forced his fur-clad fingers on with their tinkering at a tiny radio set he carried on his back, a finished, polished copy of his own crude portable outfit. Factory experts had carried out his ideas in a more compact, lighter arrangement than he had been able to achieve with the rough materials available in his backwoods laboratory. But whether this new arrangement would send the call for help as effectively as that old rattletrap had done during the Sargon flood--well, that was something to be proved. Lee's hands trembled as he pushed the wire framing of the folding aerial up and up over his head, while he crouched low to give room for it in the slanting niche in which his body was jammed. It was dangerous work, balancing one's self in a high ice crack while below the killer horde squatted on its haunches and waited, as only the wolf-pack can wait, for its meat. A restless, fearsome, cruel-eyed horde it was. One unbalancing movement, and Lee Renaud's body would go slithering down for the white-fanged horde to rend and tear into a thousand pieces, even as it had done to its own wounded members. Shivers like an ague shot through his body, his hands were numbing from the bitter cold that inaction was letting creep through his double furs. Hurry,--he must hurry! Soon he would have no more feeling, no more control. He and his companions would be dropping down like frozen lumps from this frozen wall--dropping to a terrible death. Leaning forward precariously, Renaud slipped the head harness into place, adjusted receiver and mouthpiece, and threw his strength into cranking to generate power. His fingers, numb and clumsy within their great fur gloves, pressed the buzzer signal of the tiny radio and sent its staccato call hissing out through the air strata of the Arctic. No answering buzz came back, no sign that his call had penetrated the ether. "Bz-z-z-z!" went his frantic signaling. "Renaud calling!" he shouted into the tiny mouthpiece, as though to sweep his message on by the force of his voice alone. "Renaud calling! Party trapped by wolves at ice cave. Follow trail of route flags. Help! Bring guns, flares. Help!" Louder and louder grew his voice. But no heartening answer was flung back from the ship's radio. Not so much as a buzz or faintest whisper sounded in the receiver strapped to his straining ears. No answer. Nothing. The only sound was a long-drawn wail as the white horde circled in nearer, waiting, waiting beneath their prey. CHAPTER XVIII PROSPECTING "Ah-boom-ah!" It sounded like guns, but it could be only the roar of some glacier avalanche, or an ice peak splitting asunder. "Ah-boom-ah! Ah-boom!" There it came again, almost at hand. Puffs of white smoke, fur-jacketed men running, dropping on knee to aim, to fire, leaping up to run on again. These were Goode, Millard, Harrison, and a score of armed men from the dirigible. At their onslaught, the wolf-pack leaped snarling into action, faced the hail of lead for a moment, then fled, leaving their dead behind. The snarling call and hunger wail of a pack cheated of its prey drifted back on the wind. Numb and stiff in their frost-rimed furs, the cave refugees had to be lifted down from the ice ledges. Hot soup, and many hands to rub up circulation in numb forms soon brought them back to normal. "How--how'd you ever find us so quick?" asked Renaud. "Radio wouldn't work--" "Like thunder, it wouldn't!" ejaculated Tornado Harrison, whirling on his heel. "Why, your voice came sliding in on that ship's instrument like greased lightning. Simms tuned in to your voice soon as that buzz signal zipped in. He answered you a dozen times, telling you that help was coming. Didn't you get that?" "Got nothing, not a sound, till those guns boomed. They were powerful welcome, though," Renaud grinned, then sobered down. "Something wrong with my instrument. Next time it might not work even one way. Got to look into that." * * * * * The next few days saw mighty changes at the ice cave. Instead of slinking wolves and flapping owls, it now housed a settlement of humankind. A very modern settlement it was. Man had brought electricity into the wastes of the Arctic,--electricity for heating, for cooking, for running various mechanical devices. Before the explorers moved into this vast, ready-built, triangular abode, however, some precautionary steps were taken. No telling whether bear as well as wolf had made this a den. Smoke bombs and gas rockets were hurled in to drive out any dangerous inmates. Then when the atmosphere cleared, thorough investigation was made by the light of electric torches. They found themselves in a mammoth shelter. A great opening back into the mountain that must have been full three city blocks deep by a block wide. So high was its pointed ceiling that our National Capitol and a couple of skyscrapers besides could have been housed beneath it. With the motors running gently, and with men hauling at the drag ropes, the great silver hull of the Nardak was finally drawn into this Arctic cave-hangar. Ice columns served as anchor posts for its hawsers. The great dirigible held central place within the shelter. Here and there little rooms and tunnels rayed off from the main room. In one was set up a workshop with anvil and hammers and an electric furnace. In another a kitchen with pots and stove and part of the stores banked against the wall. Further on, Lee Renaud had spread some laboratory material, tubes, acids, wires. He was trailing the flaw in his radio receiver, experimenting with an acid dip for selenized plates, to render them impervious to the terrific cold of this bleak white world. Since the wiring of his radio was in perfect order, and since the little machine worked well within a compartment heated to moderate warmth, Renaud was more than sure that the penetrating touch of the bitter Arctic must have interfered with his sensitized plates. With grim determination he pushed on with his work. He must find the flaw, must find the cure. Failure of these little portable connecting links could spell failure for the whole expedition. When the expedition began to settle itself into the real business of this hazardous journey, seeking gold in this white, frozen land, Renaud watched his little "knapsack radios" being placed in the various field outfits with a clutch at his heart. Suppose the new acid-treated plates worked no better than the old ones? Suppose, in dire need, the radios failed, even as his had failed in part during the wolf episode! Far different from anything that had ever heretofore been tried out, were Captain Jan Bartlot's very modern methods of gold seeking. For generations, the great Canadian Northwest has been luring men into its frozen heart to seek wealth. The magnet which drew adventurers into this enormous wilderness, where for hundreds upon hundreds of miles there was no sign of human life, no vegetation save the fossilized leaves and twigs of a million years ago, no connection with the world of living men--the magnet which lured was mineral wealth. Gold, silver, nickel, platinum, not reckoned in millions of dollars, but in billions, lay almost to hand, just below the frozen crust of this frozen land. For hope of such treasures, men in the past pushed into the very fringes of the Arctic Circle by the primitive sledge drawn by wolf-dogs, and the equally primitive canoe of bark or skin. With such crude, laborious means of travel it took almost superhuman endurance to even reach the mineral fields of the Arctic. When the old-time mining prospector stepped off the train and aboard sled or canoe, it meant a whole summer of grueling, grinding travel before he reached the northern ore country. Then winter darkness would cover the land, and the prospector could do nothing but sit down and await the coming of another spring. The following year, when the red rim of the sun again showed above the Arctic world, he set about his prospecting, slow work that might lead him to wealth, but that would likely take the whole of summer daylight in the doing. That meant another settling down for another lonely sojourn through the night of winter. The next spring the bearded, fur-clad prospector trekked his wealth back to civilization--if he lived to tell the tale of those terrible years of frozen exposure, hardship and suffering. Three years to trek a thousand miles and back! Hundreds followed the lure of gold up into the far north. Only tens lived to get back. Olaf Valchen was one of those prospectors, who, eight years ago, followed the land trail and the water trail, by sled, by skin canoe, up into the frozen north. He had found gold--millions of dollars' worth of it in the strange rottenstone mounds that edged a frozen lake. Three years later he reached civilization, but as penniless as when he had adventured forth. On the long trail, when one has to either cast away life or gold--well, one drops the heavy skin sacks in the snow, and struggles on, thankful to survive. And now he was going back to try to find again the trail that led to gold. But this time he was following the Arctic trail in a manner that was most modern of the modern. In the past, one year by sled and portage! Now, over the same trail by air in a few days! As the Bartlot expedition had by dirigible so speeded up the trek into the north, so it now planned to speed up the business of prospecting. In this marvel of mine-prospecting by air, the camera was to be the surveyor's first instrument. When the great dirigible backed out of its ice hangar and took the air once more, it wore a new appendage--a small, boat-like arrangement that swung by long hawsers far below the hull. In the nose of this and aimed toward earth were set three big motion-picture cameras. The major part of that million feet of film was about to be put into use. As the huge ship of the air, day after day, radiated out from its cave base on journeys that covered hundreds of miles, the steady grind of cameras devouring film made aerial maps of the frozen hills, valleys, mountains, and lakes. This was no film to be "canned" and carried to a warmer clime for development and display. To fulfill its purpose, it had to be developed right here in liquid baths of eight hundred gallons of water. A startling order for a land where water was not water at all, but solid ice. So after the aerial cameras had clicked their final click, some rousing times were had at the ice cave camp. Captain, engineers, weather man, radio men, doctor, geologist, cook and crew, every man-jack of them turned out to lug snow, three tons of it! Cook pots were everywhere. Buckets and bags of snow were dumped in them to melt. In the end, tons of snow made hundreds of gallons of water--and the film had its developing bath, Arctic or no Arctic! Outside on the snow barrens, the polar world went its old way. The cold streamers of the northern lights flickered in the sky; the wolf-pack flung its hunting howl on the winds; the great white bear stalked across his lonely domain. But within the shelter of the ice tunnel, a handful of humans had dared to bring a new way of life into the Arctic wilds. Here a little audience sat thrilled and tense before a screen on which a moving-picture machine projected flight pictures made and developed in the very teeth of Arctic cold. Here was pictured no tawdry drama of human love and hate. Instead the film unrolled magnificent vistas of mountain land and lake land. Before the screen sat the expedition geologists, exploring a thousand miles by paper in less time than the prospectors of other days took to explore only a few miles on foot, and with the pick and shovel. To a geologist, this pointed range of hills meant a certain rock formation. The lake bed presaged another. The long, low, rounded mounds circling water meant the great pre-Cambrian rock shield, the oldest stone formation in the north country, stone so old that its weathered seams have chipped and cracked and broken, so that the treasure it once hid now shows through in extrusions of gold or copper, silver or platinum. With modern machines in that ice hangar, this little band of explorers could tap the air of the civilized latitudes and bring its music across thousands of miles of snow barrens. A turn of the dial in the ship's radio-room, and the long arm of radio reached forth and plucked music out of the air, the latest news from America's metropolitan cities, tunes from Broadway and personal messages from well-wishers. "Shades of all ancient explorers!" Lee Renaud chuckled to himself. "How those old fellows would turn over in their graves at the idea of music from Broadway being just twenty seconds from the Arctic Circle. And it all happened because a Pomeranian monk shut some electricity in a glass jar." As his mind went back to his own first studies of things electrical, Lee had the strange feeling that King's Cove and all his old life were in the realm of the unreal--that only the Arctic, and radio at the top of the world, and a modern airship flying the polar wastes were real. When, from study of the aerial photographs, the geological map was finally pieced together and arranged, it was time for the ground prospecting to begin. The prospectors were carried out in pairs. The dirigible landed them in various places where the ground formation was such as to indicate the pre-Cambrian sheath rising in its long, shallow mounds. Some men were put down within a few miles of the cave base; some, hundreds of miles away. These intrepid ones were left with a pup tent, an eiderdown sleeping bag, a rifle and ammunition, radio outfit and food. Left alone, the men were to make a temporary camp immediately and to begin prospecting. If they made a find, they were to communicate with the main base by radio, or by orange flags laid out on the white snow as signals for the dirigible when it passed over again. In the prospecting crew were the best of their kind, miners from Africa, India and the Yukon. The messages began rolling in incredibly soon. The ship's radio men had to dance continual attendance on buzzer signal and radio code. The first prospector to get in touch with dirigible headquarters was Olaf Valchen. "Stand by--O. V. on the air! After breakfast, better hop over here in that sky boat. Location a hundred miles west of where longitude 110 cuts latitude 65. Come prepared to knock off a few samples of greenstone with a geologist's hammer, and fly back to base to have 'em assayed before supper. Come in a hurry! Got something real to show you! O. V. signing off!" As the great dirigible, answering this joy call, sped through the snow haze and skimmed lower and lower, her lookouts sighted the orange signal laid out on the frozen white, and her engines were halted. The ice anchor was dropped and with a loud hissing seared its way to a secure depth. The hawsers were windlassed up, and the great hull eased to earth on its pneumatic bumpers. The entrances to gondolas and navigating section were flung open--and the first fellow out was Yiggy, fur boots and all, barking a delighted greeting to his stocky blond Norwegian master. Scooping up the wriggling terrier into his arms, Olaf Valchen led the way to his find. A hundred paces back from where he had laid out his flag signal, the prospector stopped on the banks of a frozen lake. Circling the lake was a rim of low mounds. One of these, like a domed ant hill, thirty feet high and some two hundred feet in diameter, had been partly freed of its frozen crust. These bare spots showed dull green and gray, the famous greenstone of the Canadian prospectors who had made lucky strikes. Nakaluka, the rottenstone of the Eskimos! So old was this, the oldest stone formation in the north country, that it was crumbling asunder, cracking apart in great seams. And in those seams lay gold, glittering and yellow. Lee Renaud could feel his heart thumping against his double-furred shirt. He had not dreamed that his eyes would ever see such a thing--a great mound that was one vast heap of wealth, piled up in plain sight, set out where anyone strolling by in the course of the last thousand years might have seen it. A few hours of work and they had collected bagfuls of samples, so rich that the naked eye could almost estimate their value. Excitement and happiness swirled through Lee Renaud. But it was not all "gold" excitement. His chief thrill was that his radio had passed a great test. Despite the creeping touch of abnormal cold on metal and acid and tube, his radio had brought in the message! His latest improvement had worked! Already still other plans were dimly outlining themselves, plans for stretching the power of his tiny instrument, making its call reach farther and farther. Other reports were radioed in. Some prospectors had found other pre-Cambrian rock mounds, but with slight gold value, for ridges of granite rose too close and precluded the possibility of the ore veins stretching to any distance. Here and there, though, more of the vastly rich finds were located, mapped, stake-claimed, and sample ore taken. On this one trip, gold worth millions of dollars could be taken out. And that was but the beginning. In the next few years, these Arctic Barren Lands would see civilization brought into them because of man's mastery of the flying ship, and his new power of speeding the spoken word through the air on the waves of radio. For this forward march of civilization into the waste places, first bases of operation would have to be laid. Great dirigibles would transport the gas, food, equipment up into the North. Planes would be flown in. Hangars would be set up. Spare engines, spare parts, together with landing gears for summer or winter, all would be stored away. Gasoline and oil would be put down in large caches. Gradually a combination airport and mining camp would spring into being, with huts, radio mast, machine shops and the rest of the equipment. Bartlot's expedition into the great northland had achieved success. And future success loomed ahead. To Lee Renaud, it was all very wonderful and marvelous. Success written in large letters! And yet through it all, he felt a strange little throb of regret. This success had been too easy, too mechanical. He could not down an unwonted touch of sadness that soon there would be left no more surprises on this world of ours. No far, unknown, mysterious and frozen outposts for man to dream about. The White North conquered, and turned into factory ground! But young Renaud was indulging too soon in boyish regrets over man's conquest of the great white mysteries of the north country. The frozen North still held some surprises for puny man who had dared push his machines of sound and of flight into her vast lonely spaces. The North reached her icy fingers after the huge silver Nardak loaded with Arctic treasure and headed southward; she roared out her power in merciless blasts that tossed and whirled the great ship like some chip at the base of a cataract. CHAPTER XIX IN THE GONDOLA "Be a good sport, Scotty! Crank her up and give me a call in about three minutes. That's all the time I'll need to get up to the navigation-room." Lee Renaud, Ye Tireless Radio Hound, as his shipmates had laughingly dubbed him, pushed a batch of wireless outfit into the grasp of Scotty McGraw, assistant port-engine tender, with a plea for a little help in testing a new radio device. Lee began backing out of the narrow confines of the engine gondola, but he never gained even the flimsy, swaying catwalk leading up into the hull. For, with a roar of fury, a sudden Arctic gale struck the ship. It seemed to leap up out of the nowhere to whirl and pound the huge envelope at every point. Like so much meal in a sack, Renaud was flung crashing back into the gondola. From other parts of the dirigible came rendings and crashings. It was as though the great ship were caught in a giant's hand and flung hither and yon. The Arctic had lain bland and tractable for a space, while man in his floating gas bubble had slipped into the frozen domain to rifle it of its stone-sheathed treasures. In suddenly awakened fury, the Arctic loosed its weapons of sub-zero, knife-edged gale, hail, sleet, and hurricane swirl that sucked and battered and tore. On through the storm-darkened air, the dirigible plunged, swoop and check, swoop and check, now half capsized, now riding high, now riding low. Mountains fell away into blackness; the white land was left behind. They were over the frozen sea. All control of the ship was gone, all sense of direction lost. It might be a hundred miles, a thousand miles off its course. Like a toy of the winds, the huge silver bubble was tossed high on the mad currents of the ocean of air. In some upper stratum, a rushing, swirling river of the winds caught the dirigible in its grasp and swept the lost ship back into the north faster than any of its human load had ever traveled before. A hundred, two hundred, three hundred miles an hour--then the speed indicators broke! Every part of the ship seemed out of touch with every other part. So far as any human connection was concerned, the engine gondolas, the hull, the fore-car might have been so many separate planets hurtling through space. Lee Renaud, battered and banged almost to pulp, thought all feeling was gone from him forever. Yet in one awful flash, he sensed what was befalling them now. As though the river of air had reached the edge of some unseen, mighty precipice, and flowed over in a deadly, rushing torrent, the ship was sucked down and down over the invisible Niagara. Through a stratum of sleet it tore and gathered an ice sheathing of dangerous weight. From an engine nacelle came a jerk of machinery striving to lift the great bag. Out of the hull rained tanks and stores, as frantic hands cast off ballast to try to save the ship. But it was impossible to halt the down plunge of the huge ship. In another moment, the Nardak scraped the ice of the polar sea, its port side grinding against the ice. As the port gondola crashed, Renaud had a fleeting sense of being violently projected into space, then smashing heavily into the snow. Black mist swept through his brain, cleared. He lay, a mass of aches. Then his eyelids flicked open. He tried to scream as he gazed upward. The dirigible, freed of the weight of one engine cabin, had shot high in the air again! In that moment, Renaud saw Harrison, the meteorologist, and Captain Bartlot standing at an observation opening and looking down in distress. Their eyes, wide with apprehension, seemed fixed on him until the huge balloon disappeared in the mist. From somewhere on high, a piece or two more of ballast crashed down and fell far out on the ice. A little later a thin streak of smoke showed up against the northern sky. Had the dirigible caught fire, or was this merely a smoke signal? More terrible than the bitter cold creeping into Renaud's body was the desolation creeping into his heart. CHAPTER XX F-O-Y-N Renaud lay where he had been flung, in a narrow trough of snow that was almost like a coffin. He scarce knew whether he was alive or dead. At first the bitter cold had pierced him sharply. Now his arms felt nerveless, like some leaden weights. All sense of touch seemed to have left his hands. He hardly knew whether they were still attached to his wrists or not. Suppose he were dead? Suppose he were in his coffin? A pleasant stupor was creeping, creeping over him. He was dying. He was freezing to death. Through his stupefied brain a tiny thought kept hammering desperately. Rouse--move--stir! So the tiny impulse kept throbbing, but slower, and slower now. It was the impulse of life resisting death to the very end. The storm gale had spent itself, but a tag end of wind fluttered across the wastes and hurled snow with a sudden vicious sting into Renaud's face. Its cold slap roused the boy momentarily. He stirred. His circulation set up its throb again. Life was calling. Lee forced himself to a sitting posture. He must not give up. He must fight this temptation to abandon himself to this numbing, creeping cold. In slow movements, he freed himself of the drift snow, forced himself to stand, began to put one numb foot before the other in shaky progress across the ice sheet and its swathing of snow. At last he reached the splintered debris of the engine cabin. Two men in the wreckage! Scotty was breathing. Lee could feel the faint movement when he laid his hands on the other's furred garment above the heart. Then Lee had his arms under Scotty's shoulders, shaking him, pounding him, begging him to rouse, to live. In urging another back into life, Renaud strengthened his own muscles, hardened his own resolution to fight. It took long labor from both Scotty and Renaud to revive Van Granger, the other engineer. He had been stunned by a blow on the head. The left side of his face was all blackened and swollen from impact with the ice. Even after his two mates had lifted him, walked him, rubbed up his circulation with desperate, vigorous strokes, he was too weak to do more than sit propped with his back to a snow mound near a tiny warming fire they had started with bits of the splintered wood from the cabin. But they must have some kind of shelter against storm, sleet and cold. Here was plenty of material such as the Eskimos use for building their round-topped igloos. But Scotty and Lee knew well enough that their untrained hands held no knack for setting snow blocks into the perfect dome of an igloo. Any dome-shaped snow carpentry of theirs was likely to crash down on their heads at the first breath of wind. So they contented themselves with merely setting up straight thick walls of snow blocks. For roofing, they used material they salvaged from the wrecked gondola. Over their whole domicile, sides and top, they banked a warm blanket of snow, packed down hard and firm. Every bit of food, broken machinery, pieces of wood and metal, were painstakingly gathered and stored within or close beside their shelter. It was a jumbled medley, remnants of broken radio, a case of chocolate, bursted cans of fruit, bundles of fur garments. Scattered here and there in the wreckage were lumps of the rich specimen ore taken out of the Arctic surface mine. To men marooned on an ice sheet, gold was a mockery. Food, instead of gold, was treasure to them now. Lee and Scotty worked on and on, gathering bits of wreckage, banking deeper their snow roof, pushing themselves to the point of exhaustion. For as long as they labored, they could force off thought. But finally they had to give in to physical weariness, had to drop down to rest. And all unbidden, thoughts marched blackly across their minds. What could be the end? What hope could they have? All they knew of the dirigible was that they had seen it still aloft, swept off in the gale. And then, later, that distant column of smoke. Had the silver hull of the Nardak gone up in flames? Or was that wavering smoke line a beacon, lighted by their shipmates where they had landed? And should the Nardak still be safe, and navigable, how would her searching crew ever find the castaways, three minute dots on the vast sheet of ice? For, clad in their grayish white furs, they were scarcely discernible against the white background of ice and snow. Lee Renaud burrowed his head between his hands, as though by pressure he would stop the ugly round of thought. But thought swept on, ceaselessly. To make matters worse, it was drift ice they were on, a great sheet that constantly changed its position. In a gale, it might be pounded into a thousand pieces and become little pans that would scarce support a man's weight. Scotty, a short, heavy-set fellow, wearing spectacles that miraculously had not broken in his fall, worked continually with the remnant of his sun compass and a small magnetic compass. From position, checked by these, and by the loom of some far, white mountain peaks he hazarded a guess that they were in the drift somewhere to the west of Spitzbergen--and their nearest land would be the island of Foyn, an uninhabited speck in the polar sea, unvisited even by whalers, unless storm drove them there. Spitzbergen--Foyn! Land that guarded the European gateway to the Pole! How mighty was the river of the winds! Caught in its currents, an exploration expedition had been hurled from the American Arctic, across the top of the world, to the polar regions above Europe. "If the wind carries the drift aright," Scotty pointed to a distant white height, "we may come near Foyn Island and we may be able to make it to that piece of land by crossing from floe to floe." "Foyn--land--uninhabited! This nearest land might be the South Pole, for what good it'll do us!" thought Lee Renaud bitterly. Why had he forced himself to live? Why hadn't he let himself go in that first quick, merciful stupor? What if they did ever reach that barren, ice-sheathed island? They might eke out their little store of food to last a few weeks. They might catch seals, shoot a bear--get food for a month, for a year. But in the end starvation, exposure, death must claim these forlorn castaways. Need to work for another helped Renaud shake off some of the black hopelessness that enveloped him. Granger, who was ill, had to be warmed and fed, and made comfortable as far as was possible on this insecure haven of drifting ice. Cooking a scanty meal, melting snow for water, cutting a crude eye-shade out of wood to protect Granger's vision from the snow glare--just such homely tasks as these braced Lee Renaud and set him on his feet. Shame for the weakling thoughts in which he had let himself indulge now swept over him. He was young, he had strength. He would keep his courage up. If he had to die--well, he would die. But he would go like a man, master of himself. Determination and courage seemed to color the pitiless, white frozen waste with some glow of hope. The frozen drift felt solid to the feet, anyway. They were here, and they were alive. Might as well settle themselves in what comfort they could, and hold on to life as long as possible. Out of the jumbled mass of wreckage, he and Scotty picked such things as might add to the comfort of their Arctic housekeeping. "Well, here are knives and forks for our banquets." Scotty Mac held up some aluminum splinters gathered from around the crashed gondola. "With a little twisting and bending, we might convert 'em into fish hooks, if that'd be more to the point." "And here's something we'll convert into a drinking glass for ice water. My, aren't we magnificent up here in the Arctic!" Renaud laughingly dug out a glass shade that had once adorned a light in the Nardak's lost cabin. "Cut glass and very chic! Bet when it made that pleasure trip around the world, it never dreamed it would some day be turned upside down to hold drinking water for a trio of derelicts on an ice island! This felt, from under the engine base, might--might--" What he was going to do with the strip of felt, Lee Renaud failed to say. Something else caught his attention. "Why--why--" the boy gasped, then went to digging into a mass of chocolate and tinfoil wrapping. Something had buried itself down in the very midst of that great bundle of brown sweet. Lee worked his hands into the mass, then lifted out some tubes, capped in a white metal. "My radio accumulators!" he shouted. "Thought every fraction of the thing was smashed--but here's this much, anyway!" He carefully wiped them off, ran his hands over every part, shook them. The liquid within was safe. The finding of those metal tubes wrought a vast change in Lee Renaud. His first thought, after regaining consciousness when he had crashed on the ice, had been to signal for help with radio. Then he had found his mechanism smashed, an utter wreck. That, most of all, had knocked the heart out of him. He had counted so on radio. And now like a reprieve from the death sentence had come the finding of these tubes, still intact. A couple of tubes,--little enough, but a start anyway. "It's more than von Kleist had," Lee half whispered to himself. "And three hundred years ago von Kleist had the sense to take a bottle, a nail and some salt water, and figure out a way to get an electric spark. It's more than Hertz had, either, and he figured out a way to send electric power through the air, for a tiny distance anyway. I can at least rig up some wires and make a try at the thing." It was a large order Lee Renaud was giving himself--to try to piece up a radio sending machine, the most delicate and powerful of all mechanisms, out of some smashed junk on an Arctic ice floe. Not for nothing had Lee Renaud grown up with radio. Not for nothing had he followed the work of those old inventors making their way forward, a step at a time. In his own old workshop in the Cove, Lee had copied those steps in real, working mechanisms that, however crude they might have been, had yet achieved results. A modern, up-to-date inventor would be used to a splendid laboratory, used to purchasing smooth, finished, machine-made products to help with the carrying out of his ideas. But Lee Renaud, like those oldtime pioneers in electricity, was used to seizing upon wood and wire, scrap metal and glass. It was this crude, hard-bought training that now gave young Renaud courage to face some scraps of broken metal and still to hope to build a radio here on drift ice. Again and again Lee went through every vestige of the wreckage they had salvaged, laying aside such objects as might possibly be of use. Some long strips of metal, a heavy base that had once been an engine support--here was a start on the antennae. He wired the strips to the base, then wired them together at the top to insure stability. To his antennae, Lee fastened a strip of torn flag that he had found in the wreck. A bit of Old Glory fluttering above some Arctic refugees! Lee could not know how often in the near future their eyes would be fixed on that bit of cloth, their minds desperately wondering if the country behind that flag would not make some attempt to save them. Working material was of the meagerest. Wires had to be soldered--but with what? For a whole period between "two sleeps" (there was not yet any set day and night in this land of the midnight sun), Lee worked at two coins, a tin box, and a tiny fire of their precious wood splinters--and in the end achieved a rather creditable metal joining. The cut-glass shade, so very chic, now began a new duty as, combined with some tin, a wood stopper and a piece of wire, it served as a battery unit. Lee Renaud hardly paused for eating or sleeping. Always his fingers were at it, adjusting wires, tubes, battery jars, wiring the parts. He would creep into his sleeping bag to rest, and in less than an hour, while the others were deep in slumber, out he would crawl, to take up his work again. A fever of labor burned within him. He could not lay this thing aside until he finished it, tested it, knew the best or the worst of the case. For the hundredth time, Renaud looked up at the bit of flag floating on his Arctic aerial. The nation behind the Stars and Stripes would do something towards rescue if--if only America knew the fate of the greatest dirigible that had ever left its shores. It was to combat that "if" that Renaud squatted beside the tangled mass of wires and jars and metal scraps which he prayed would act the part of a radio sender. Anyway, the thing sparked! There was some power to it! All in a tremble he raised his finger to tap the first code click over radio adrift in the Arctic. Foyn, the name of their nearest land, that was the first word to send. "F-O-Y-N on the air, F-O-Y-N--" and that was all Renaud's radio clicked. For with a shout of anguish tearing up through his throat, he sprang to his feet, overturning the radio in a tangled mass of loosed wire and broken battery, and sped towards the ice edge. Van Granger had been lying on a pallet of furs at the water's edge where he could entertain himself with trying for fish with a piece of twisted aluminum for a hook. Being still weak and sick, he had fallen asleep. In a lane of sea water, not twenty feet from the sick man, Lee had glimpsed a dark form gliding under the surface. In the next instant, thirty feet of sea monster rolled to the surface, all hideous saw-toothed black snout, and leaped high out of the water towards the ice edge. CHAPTER XXI KILLERS OF THE ARCTIC "Help! Scotty! Killer whales!" screamed Lee, plunging forward, striving to pull pallet, sick man and all back from the edge of the ice. At Lee's shout, the sea monster slid back into the depths. But not for long! There came a swish, a puff. Out of the water was thrust again the huge black snout, in which were set two wicked little eyes. Other black snouts were thrust above water. Ten, maybe twenty killers rolled surfacewards and spouted. Scotty was beside young Renaud now, helping him drag the sick man back and back from the water's edge. Their hearts throbbed painfully. It had been a close call. Another instant and the sea killer would have snatched off the helpless victim and sunk to the chill, dark depths to gorge itself on a meal of human meat. "Hi, ya! Sea wolves! Tigers of the sea!" Such were the epithets Scotty hurled forth as he shook his fist at the sinister black crew that kept rising at the ice edge, sinking, rising again to glare with ravenous, evil eyes at meat that had moved out of reach. Many times before this, Scotty had seen service in the Arctic waters, and knew well enough about the killer whales. Like the wolf-pack of the snow barrens, these ferocious sea creatures hunted in bands. The man shuddered now when he remembered what he had seen of the killers on the trail. Sometimes these carnivori swallowed dolphins alive without even taking trouble to kill them. Sometimes the killer-pack attacked a huge bowhead whale, beat him into submission with leapings and poundings of their lithe, cruel black bodies, devoured him ferociously, first the lips, then the tongue, then the rest of the monstrous, helpless body. Anxiously the marooned men watched the horizon for thunderhead and storm cloud. Suppose a tempest rolled up, drove their ice field hither and yon on the sea, smashed and ground it to pieces? It would mean a terrible end, with the killer-pack of the sea nosing in, ready to devour. It was hard to set the thoughts on anything else save the sinister sea shapes that slunk away mysteriously for long stretches, then rolled back into view, to glide and blow and watch with evil, hungry eyes. Somehow, though, Lee forced his mind and his hands to concentrate on the scattered debris of his broken radio. For hours he labored, repairing the condenser, straightening springs, connecting wires. "F-O-Y-N"--that one call had gone out on the air from his machine. Had anyone heard it? Would he ever be able to send another? An hour, eight hours, for days, the struggle went on. A black-haired boy out on the bleak white of drift ice striving to rehabilitate a dead radio! No tools, no resources, no anything save some broken wires and metal pieces--and the eternal ice! A wire bent here, a patient bit of soldering there--then all of a sudden he was in touch! He had done it, made the connection, fired again the spark of electricity that was the life of radio! Something was coming in! A chitter-chatter of faint telegraphic code! "Latitude 78--on the ice--drifting--" That was all. No matter how Renaud sent out an answering call, begged, pleaded, tapped out the code, nothing more came in. By the buzz from the wire circuit of his direction-finder, the call had come from the north. From the dirigible--it could be from no other! For a brief second these two widely separated sections of the ill-fated expedition had been in touch. Then something had broken the connection. Atmospheric condition--disaster--storm, who could tell what? Never another sound came from the north. Renaud and his companions comforted themselves with the belief that their shipmates aboard the dirigible had survived thus far. Except for the briefest periods off for rest and food, and to race up and down the ice sheet to stir circulation against the treacherous creep of the bitter cold, Lee Renaud hung feverishly over his radio. It was their one hope, their one connecting link to anything beyond this frozen hell. Two more days dragged by their torturous lengths, and except for its own little lonely click, the drift-ice radio brought no other sound. It seemed insane to continue to place hope on this pile of junk. It had reached a little way into some near region--once--and that was all. Scotty began to plan how they could strike out over the ice on foot, move on somewhere, anywhere, in hope of getting nearer to land. This inaction was terrible. But there was Van Granger to be thought of, sick and nearly helpless. Sensing a discussion that he could not hear, Van Granger began begging his companions to kill him, to put him out of his misery. He wanted to be no drag, holding other men from their chance to make a dash for life. Without the burden of him, they could carry food--for a greater distance. After that, Lee and Scotty always kept their weapons with them, or hidden out on the ice. Words of comfort and assurance seemed to make no impression on the sick mind of their injured companion. They feared that he would do himself some bodily injury. In the midst of black hopelessness, Lee aimlessly tinkered at the radio outfit. He shunted wires here and there, set a tube connection higher--and with a sudden crackle of spark, code began sliding in! "V-I-A-T-K-A," Lee, counting code with one hand, scratched the mysterious letters on the snow beside him. Exhilaration shot through him. He was in touch with something--but what, where? "Viatka--Viatka!" There it came again and other letters in a strange jumble that he could not seem to unravel. The direction-finder indicated south, east. Frantically Lee poured his own code on the air. He got nothing more, made no other connection, could only content himself with the fact that his radio was reaching somewhere beside the floes of Arctic. What Lee did not know was that, days ago, his first brief call, "F-O-Y-N," had been picked up by a young Russian amateur wireless operator by the name of Arloff, living in a village in the Government of Viatka. Just the faint, far signal of four mysterious letters! This call out of the ether intrigued Arloff. He wired it on to Moscow, from whence it was spread throughout the world. Men began putting two and two together. Foyn--an island at the gateway to the North Pole! The dirigible Nardak lost above northern America after a great storm which had rolled down thence--for days all radio communication cut off from the Nardak, and no more word from her. And now this mysterious call, "F-O-Y-N." Did that call hold the answer to the dark riddle of the lost ship? The mental eye of the world focused upon that bit of frozen land in the polar ocean. Though he knew nothing of this, though some atmospheric disturbance of the air ceiling interfered with his receiving, Lee Renaud continued to doggedly tap out his radio call of location--needs--a cry for help. In Siberia, Alaska, Canada, stations keyed by that mysterious "F-O-Y-N" checked in his message, tried to check their answering call across the frozen wastes--but some Arctic interference barred the sound. Then came some sudden change in atmospheric conditions, storm-charged stratum of interference lifted, sound went through. It was from the lofty wireless towers at Fort Churchill, an outpost of civilization on Hudson Bay, that an operator got the "touch" through to Renaud. "Putting through to F-O-Y-N--clear the air, all else--courage to the marooned--help coming--the planes and ice-breakers of five nations to the rescue!" "Rescue! Rescue!" shouted Lee Renaud, then his fingers fell to tapping again. "Stand by--the Arctic on the air--F-O-Y-N heard the message--we live--" Lee Renaud slid to his knees, a prayer of thankfulness in his heart, then fainted dead away in the snow. CHAPTER XXII HOPE AND DESPAIR "Tat! Tat! T-t-tat!" It was working, the radio code was coming in! They were in touch! The wonder of it! From this lone camp out here on the drift ice, the operator with his patched-up radio set was in voice connection with lands hundreds--yes, thousands of miles away. Some metal strips wired together, their bases banked in snow, lifted their slender height above this tiny camp on a drift-island of ice. Renaud's radio aerial! Beneath it, a black-haired boy with determination in set of jaw, dark eyes fever-bright, hands that trembled from hunger weakness in spite of the grip a fellow kept upon himself! That was Renaud, huddled at patient work over screws and coils and some solder on a tin box. It took continual nursing to keep the metal patches and makeshifts in place, to keep this thing clicking. But he was doing it! Taps--more taps! He was in touch again with that Hudson Bay operator at a station that was a whole ocean and half a continent away. "Renaud--up about Foyn--are you on the air? Keep in touch with us. Your country is organizing search crews. Airplanes and ice-breaker ships from other nations joining the search. Give us news of the lost dirigible. Give us your needs." Instead of being perched out on a hunk of ice in the vast Arctic, Lee Renaud, wireless operator, might, for all the precision of the affair, have been seated in a swivel-chair at the telegraph desk in some forty-story city skyscraper sending a message over the wires. He was on the ice--but the messages were going through in great shape. "Stand by--Renaud on the air! No more word from the dirigible, save that call from the 78th latitude. Still clinging to hope for them. Our needs--everything. Something dry to stand on, medicine for our eyes, and food, FOOD!" Lee shivered in his soggy furs. It was a marvel to be in touch even by sound. But a nearer touch must come soon, rescue. Their ice island was breaking in long black lanes. Every hour now the encroaching water perilously ensmalled their domain. Later that day the tapping in the radio box began again. The powerful arm of Canadian radio was reaching out with its vicarious comfort. It was a strange, homely message that traveled over the frozen wastes this time. It had started from somewhere down South. Hundreds of amateur radio operators of the monstrous, friendly Radio Relay Organization of America had kept the word going. A radio "ham" in Hillton, Alabama, had picked it out of the air and had wirelessed it on to Bington. A Bington amateur had put it on to Johnston. By devious, criss-cross routes, a crippled boy's little message had sped across the length of the United States, across part of Canada, and now had been flung on the air from that greatest of northern stations, the Hudson's Bay Aerial, to speed on waves of ether till that makeshift aerial near Foyn caught the words: "Lee Renaud, King's Cove is praying for you. Your true friend, Jimmy Bobb." Lee Renaud had need of prayers--adrift as he was on breaking ice, with one companion injured and the other slowly falling a prey to ice-blindness. Under the pound of the winds and the steady grind of the waves, their piece of ice was steadily diminishing. Where it had once stretched a limitless field, it now lay a mere thousand feet long by some seven hundred wide. Wet winds had turned its cover of snow into a slush two feet deep. Lee and Scotty were continually having to move Van Granger to new ridges to keep him above the slush. Despite the crude eye-shades that they had whittled out of wood and tied above their brows, the awful ice glare had wrought havoc with Scotty's eyes, which were blue and seemed far more susceptible to the ice dazzle than did Renaud's dark eyes. Twice now, ice breaks had further ensmalled their island. With terrific labor, they had moved their precious pieces of broken planking, their radio, their scanty stores, farther in to the tough heart of the floe. Scotty's eyes had gotten so bad by this time that he hadn't even seen a white bear, huge sneak-thief that had crossed from another floe, come creeping, creeping on its broad pads to dig into their pemmican cache. A quick shot from Renaud's rifle made the dangerous marauder take to water with lightning speed for so lumbering a beast, and soon it disappeared in the maze of floating tablelands. Lee looked regretfully after so many hundred pounds of meat disappearing into the distance. They had need, dire need of that warming, rich bear steak and of the thick fur. A pity his hand had trembled so! "T-t-tat, t-tat!" Staccato stutter of radio coming in again! Oslo, Norway, sending the call. "Courage! Relief operations pushing forward. The Russian boat, Kravassin, most powerful ice-breaker in the world, smashing her way up into the North towards Spitzbergen to act as base ship for the rescue planes. Dog-sledge camps being laid on mainland to act as further supply bases for rescue flight. Advance wedge of three great airplanes winging into the Arctic now." Rescue on the way even now! And the metallic click of his tiny radio bringing the news to the human flotsam out on the drift ice! "Rescue coming! Wonderful! And yet--" Like some black thread of cloud that spreads till it darkens a whole horizon, a cloud of premonition, of anxiety, spread over Lee Renaud's jubilation. "Scotty," queried Lee, looking out over the limitless stretches of broken, drifting white, "how big is this sea we are in?" "Um--let me see!" Scotty, unbelievably darkened by snow glare, black whiskers standing out fiercely round his emaciated face, kept his hand to his poor suffering eyes, and answered slowly. "Perhaps it's a thousand miles one way, by about fifteen hundred the other." "Thousand--fifteen hundred!" gasped Renaud. "Why, Scotty, we're lost in a sea as big as the whole United States east of the Mississippi. And somewhere in that stretch of water are the pin points that are us! A silver dot further on, maybe, that's the Nardak! However--why, no lookout in a speeding airship can ever sight us! How can we hope?" "Miracles. They still happen, sometimes," said the half-blind Scotty. The next day, when Lee was trying to divide their remnant of provisions, a little chocolate and a little pemmican, into as small portions as would sustain life, so that it would last as long as possible, he heard a sound up in the sky. A zoom, far away yet coming nearer, nearer! Scotty heard it too, and ran staggering blindly in circles in the snow, shouting. A speck in the sky, coming close, closer--a great monoplane with orange fuselage and silver wing. In a furor of relief and excitement, Renaud and Scotty shouted, waved, threw things in the air. On it came from the south. The pilot must have seen them and was heading their way--no, no, he was passing too far to the left. He was missing them! Like statues, the two on the drift ice stood rooted to their tracks. From within the cabin, Granger's weak voice called fretfully, wanting to know what the shouting was, what was happening? Nothing--nothing was happening. Ah, yes, it was! The ship of the air was coming back, coursing in the sky trails like some trusty hunter on the scent. Ola, it must locate them this time! Wasn't that the engine slowing, the pilot "cutting the gun" for a swoop to their floe? But above, and still far away to the left of the three on the great white waste, the pilot in his silver and orange craft kept on his way, unseeing. After him rose hoarse shouts, that the wind whipped to nothing before they could ever reach him. Somewhere below him, two humans flung up their arms and dropped in the snow. Hope had gone. CHAPTER XXIII FIGHTING THROUGH Radio had brought ships of the air and ships of the sea into the Arctic to search for the lost crew from the great Nardak. Radio must now be the guide to focus the eyes of the searchers upon these dots that were freezing, starving humans on the boundless wastes. Like one demented, Lee Renaud hung over his crude sending machine, tap-tapping his call into the air. He ate next to nothing, slept only in snatches. He must get in touch with Spitzbergen, with the base ship, the Kravassin, anchored there. Since that first disappointment, two other planes had circled in and passed on, unseeing. These were two seaplanes, sturdy white-winged biplanes, with black fuselage. They had come that close, near enough for men on the ice to see, yet not to be seen. Frantic efforts to signal from the ice had been all in vain. One plane had hung in the air for an hour's reconnaissance, then had disappeared in the grim Arctic horizon, flying back toward Spitzbergen. "Put radios on the rescue planes. Put radios on the rescue planes, short-wave, telegraphic type. Sending station F-O-Y-N on the drift ice can then communicate direct and give signals to bring the planes to the refugees. S. O. S. to the world! Help! Relay the word to Spitzbergen. F-O-Y-N can't make the touch to its nearest station." Thus, hour after hour, Renaud sent his call. For forty hours now, there had been no radio connection between the refugee camp and the rest of the world. Atmospheric disturbances, most likely,--a storm brewing and rolling up interference between the makeshift station and the stations of a listening world! The snow haze was creeping over the horizon, forerunner of evil weather. And out in the water lanes, dark forms rose now and again with a swish and a puff, rolled to blow, and sank again. Killer whales come back, like under-sea vultures, to await what storm and death might fling to them. On and on went Renaud with his tapping. There was nothing else to do. Answer or no answer, his fingers kept doggedly to their task. Tap--listen--tap--and the snow haze closing down. Then through the dimness to the southwest, a puff of smoke rose slim and tall, and then spread out on the damp air in a long wavering line. Another smoke puff, closer this time! Smoke bombs! Signals dropped from a plane! With a sudden chitter-chatter that sent his heart pounding up into his very throat for joy, Renaud's little radio picked up a call out of the near air. The plane--it was sending the radio call! It was carrying a wireless set, as Renaud had pleaded! With flying fingers, Renaud tapped out his location. "Here--to the east of the smoke bomb! More to the east! Now to the north!" On came the plane. It was so easy now, with connection between ground and air. The plane was the splendid silver and orange monoplane that had searched in vain for them a day ago. Now it swept in a direct line above them, flew low over the ice pack--lower, lower, but did not land. "Major Ravoia in the SD-55. No chance to land. Break of the ice would sink us all." It was a message that sent Renaud reeling across his machine. But if the SD-55 could not land, something else could. From over the edge of the plane, as it hovered low, an object was dropped. This fell free for a space, then fluttered open into a parachute to which was attached a large box. As gently as a hand setting a fragile glass on a table, the broad, inverted chalice of the parachute let its weight down and down till it eased against the ice. Renaud had raised his head to watch. Now he went across the ice to the box with its draping of collapsed parachute. With a piece of metal he beat open the top--began lifting out the contents. It was enough to stir the heart of any half-starved marooner--food, clothing, snow glasses, bandages and medicines, rifles and ammunition and a collapsible rubber boat. "Dry clothing! Something to eat! Medicine for your eyes!" he called out huskily to poor Scotty, who, scarce seeing at all now, came wavering across the snow slush. The silver and orange of the monoplane was lifting above their heads now, but its wireless was pouring out a staccato message that came sliding briskly into the radio base on the drift ice: "Don't despair. The ice-breaker Kravassin is fighting through to you. By radio connection I can locate you again; can pilot the ice ship on." With a zooming roar, the SD-55 was gone. So quickly did the flash of orange and silver disappear into the lowering haze, that it seemed almost a dream that it had ever hovered within hailing distance. Only, here was the food, the clothing, the strange rubber boat, the parachute that had eased them to the ice. And on the air still seemed to hang the SD-55's message: "Don't despair--Kravassin fighting through!" On the great Russian ice-breaker hung their last hope. CHAPTER XXIV ON TO GLORY The little group huddled close on their piece of drift. In the past hour, winds had swept a huge tableland of frozen white so near that it had verged on riding down the castaways. But instead a veer of the wind had sent it scraping by, and shearing off the whole eastern edge of their domain. A few more such vast, unwelcome visitors and their island would be ground to bits. Young Renaud, the only one of the three whom exposure had not crippled in some way, had hastily gathered together portions of their supplies in packs that could be strapped to each person. The queer rubber boat was ready for launching though it seemed beyond reason to hope that this frail craft could live for even a moment in that grinding, crashing, ice-strewn sea. With a sudden hoarse cry, Lee Renaud leaped to his feet, seized the half-blind Scotty by the shoulder. "Quick! Help me lift Granger to the boat! In it yourself! I'll stand ready to push off if--if what's coming strikes!" Whatever the thing was, tornado or waterspout, a crash seemed imminent. Straight toward the piteous group on their drift island, the stormy line of white moved. Tons of ice were hurled up in great masses that crashed back to churn the sea in gigantic geyser spouts of turmoil. Lee Renaud shivered and closed his eyes. It would soon be the end. God give him strength to meet that end like a man! Shoulders squared, head up, young Renaud stood beneath his wireless aerial with its fluttering bit of flag that was a little piece of America up here in the Farthest North. Boom, crash, boom! It was a titanic sight, ice ripped and torn by terrific power. Then behind the ice, through the ice, there came a strange sight. Not the tornado whirl Lee Renaud was expecting, but the great prow of a vessel. The most powerful ice-breaker of the North, the Kravassin, fighting through to the rescue! Renaud's heart stood still. Relief at the reprieve from death itself rushed through him in a revulsion of feeling that left him weak. His limbs were as water, his bones were as sand. He crumpled to his knees. It was a stupendous spectacle that Renaud was given to watch--a gigantic battle between the vessel's ten thousand horsepower engines and the frozen clutch of the North. How could the great ship smash through to the tiny island without sinking it? In anguish, Renaud watched the oncoming, triple-sheathed ram of the Kravassin cut her terrible path. The refugees would be submerged, swept off their ice. How could the monster heave in to them without drowning them? But with a sure hand, Markovitch, captain of the mighty ice-breaker, sent his crashing, metal-clad monster in a great circle about the marooners' piece of floe. Then cutting in, he made a smaller circle, and a still smaller circle--eased his huge vessel close. Movement was slow. The great ram of the prow, instead of smashing, was nosing in, creeping in now. With a shudder of steam exhaust, she came to rest, her bulk pushing together the ice drift before her to make a white bridge to the marooners' island. Over her side swarmed a rescue crew, Ravoia of the SD-55 leading on foot now to the little ice island he had located from the air days ago. The castaways were rushed back, sped across rocking floe, lifted across little chasms that in another moment would be great chasms. At the ship itself, ladders and hawsers and scores of willing hands waited to draw them up to safety. "Easy now! He's injured! That one's not seeing much. Easy, easy!" rose calls from the ice. Blanket slings hoisted up Van Granger and Scotty. Lee Renaud had the strength to go up and over by himself, though the feel of solid ship beneath him took the last of his fighting spirit out of him. Safe! He didn't have to be strong for himself and for the sick and injured men longer. He was going to make a fool of himself--going to faint. He fought off blackness in vain. He felt kind hands catch him, lower him. The last he heard was Ravoia calling out, "Hey, get this up--Renaud's wireless. It's made history, linked the world." When Renaud came to, he had the feeling that he was still on a bit of drift ice, that it must all be a marvelous dream--the great ship, comforts, warmth, the crew calling him a hero. With the picking up of these first refugees, the Kravassin's work had just begun. On into the frozen north she pushed, following that one clue of the lost dirigible, that faint wireless call Renaud's radio had picked up--"Adrift on ice. Latitude 78." Life aboard the Kravassin was one steady round of excitement. Food and comforts soon brought Lee's strong young body back to normal. Snug in furs, from hooded parka to boot tip, he took his part in the work as the steel-clad ram bucked the floes, deeper and deeper into the frozen ocean of the Arctic. Never was there such a ship as the Kravassin, never such a method of fighting the power of ice. With metal ram to crack the ice, with keel built to ride the floe in slide movement, with ten thousand horsepower engines to push her, the Kravassin fought her fight. Huge water tanks, fore and aft, were filled or emptied at the rate of hundreds of tons an hour, so the weight could be increased enormously to crush the ice or so the ship could roll to smash itself free. For a week the Kravassin pushed on, pathmaking through the frozen pack, heading north, trailing the faint clue--"Lost at 78." It was hopeless. The Arctic summer light was merging into the twilight that meant the beginning of the long night of the Arctic winter. Man must flee before that long period of darkness descended. Part of the crew were ready to turn back. They had done their duty, had crossed 78,--no lost dirigible was in these parts. Perhaps it was all a hallucination of young Renaud's fevered mind--that radio call from the north. So the talk went. They must push on, farther still; it was drift ice the call had come from; the dirigible may have been swept on and on. Renaud pleaded and begged for a longer search. He reinforced his pleading with promise of rich pay out of the golden treasure that had crashed with the gondola on the ice. Because of Renaud's intense belief in that faint call, the mighty search went on yet a little longer. Steel prow crashing tons of ice to the sky and back--airship flotilla searching from the upper strata--men's eyes strained ahead for glint of lost silver hulk! A second week was wearing itself away when lookouts sighted a thread of smoke on the north horizon. A day later the Kravassin had fought through to that smoke. CHAPTER XXV FROM THE DESERT OF ICE Small wonder that none had glimpsed the silver hull of the great Nardak! For on the desert of ice, when the search party from the Kravassin made landing, they found the whole crew of the lost dirigible--but no dirigible. Not at first, anyway. Instead before their eyes lay a vast mound of snow. Within those tons of white drift lay the wreck of the Nardak--two engines smashed, and no fuel to run those that were left. Haggard, bearded men, in whom hope had long been dead, laughed and shouted and prayed when they saw the great ship, and the rescue party swarming over the ice. "The impossible! A miracle out of the sky! How are we found?" gasped the worn, emaciated Captain Jan. "The miracle? Wireless it was," Markovitch the Russian made answer in his halting, precise English. He whirled Renaud around and thrust him forward. "And this youngster the miracle-man is. With some broken wire and bottles, he called to the world, and the world sent men to the rescue." But miracles were not over, for the wreck of the Nardak was to go out of the Arctic under her own power. Snow was shoveled off the huge hull. The Kravassin's machine shop had tools and furnaces and fusing power to rehabilitate the dirigible and put her back into the air again. Sufficient fuel was spared from the ship's tanks to get the Nardak to Spitzbergen, that strange Arctic island port where enormous gasoline tanks and lofty aerials of radio towers mark man's progress in the conquest of the ice country. From Spitzbergen, the route lay on to Oslo, Norway, where further repairing and refueling were attended to. Then it was off across the North Atlantic, headed for the welcoming shores of America! These adventurers into the mysterious North were bringing back wealth, and a knowledge of where lay Nakaluka, that Arctic lake edged with rock rich in golden gifts. Arctic gold had nearly cost them their lives, but it had led them to witness strange, wild sights. Now that it was nearly over, Lee Renaud felt thankful for that wonderful experience--and living to get out again. Behind them lay a great white land of a frozen world lit by weird lights, swept by winds of power--a mighty splendor that few humans ever see and live to tell of. Before them lay Home! Across the Atlantic in two days! Sighting the shores of America--passing above the great statue of the Goddess of Liberty, her arm lifted in silent greeting--then on over New York, and landing beyond the city! Radio, the long arm of mysterious sound that had rescued the Nardak from the ice barrens--radio now welcomed her home. Since the time the Nardak had touched on the shores of civilized Europe, hour by hour, minute by minute, America had kept track of her return. Bulletins had posted the shops and theaters of the land, "Nardak four hours away"--"Nardak sighted"--"Nardak coming in!" Lee Renaud knew from the interest and enthusiasm of those radio calls that the home country was awaiting her wanderers--but for all that, he was taken back by the vast crowd that viewed their arrival. As far as the eye could see, the flying field, the streets, the housetops were black with people. Bands were playing. A thunder of shouts greeted the dirigible as she settled on American soil once again. Young Renaud was among the last to step down from the Nardak's open hatch. A hush fell as he came into sight, and a pathway opened before him. Then Captain Bartlot had him by the shoulder, pushing him forward, making him look up to where a triumphal arch loomed right ahead--an arch built of flowers, decked with the flags of the nations of the world and set with letters thirty inches high. Lee Renaud's head swam dizzily as he looked up at those letters: "Stand by--the Arctic on the air! Greeting to Renaud of the Radio! He linked the world with his wireless call!" And America greeted her Renaud. Shouts roared up. People laughed and cried and hurrahed over a bewildered, dark-haired hero, who couldn't quite take it in that it was he they were shouting over. Out of the throng, an imposing gentleman fought his way close, grasped Lee's hand and burst into hurried speech: "Represent the Amalgamated Radio Corporation of America--have come a thousand miles to be first on the ground. Our corporation offers you a million dollars for the rights to your portable radio--" "Sir, I'll talk later--please," and Lee pushed forward. Over there, could he believe his eyes? His mother, Great-uncle Gem pounding his cane and waving wildly, Jimmy Bobb in a chair--they had come all the way here, just to see him! 
61481	----	SILENCE IS--DEADLY By Bertrand L. Shurtleff Radio is an absolute necessity in modern organization--and particularly in modern naval organization. If you could silence all radio--silence of that sort would be deadly! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science-Fiction April 1942. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The hurried _rat-a-tat_ of knuckles hammered on the cabin door. Commander Bob Curtis roused himself from his doze, got up from his chair, stretched himself to his full, lanky height and yawned. That would be Nelson, his navigating officer. Nelson always knocked that way--like a man in an external state of jitters over nothing at all. Curtis didn't hurry. It pleased him to let Nelson wait. He moved slowly to the door, paused there, and flung a backward glance at the man in the cabin with him--Zukor Androka, the elderly Czech scientist, a guest of the United States navy, here aboard the cruiser _Comerford_. The wizened face of the older man was molded in intent lines of concentration, as his bushy gray head bent over his drawing board. Curtis got a glimpse of the design on which he was working, and his lips relaxed in a faint smile. Androka had arrived on board the _Comerford_ the day before she sailed from Norfolk. With him came a boatload of scientific apparatus and equipment, including a number of things that looked like oxygen tanks, which were now stored in the forward hold. Androka had watched over his treasures with the jealous care of a mother hen, and spent hours daily in the room in the superstructure that had been assigned as his laboratory. Sometimes, Curtis thought old Androka was a bit wacky--a scientist whose mind had been turned by the horror that had come to his country under the domination of the Nazi _gestapo_. At other times, the man seemed a genius. Perhaps that was the answer--a mad genius! Curtis opened the door and looked out. Rain whipped against his face like a stinging wet lash. Overhead, the sky was a storm-racked mass of clouds, broken in one spot by a tiny patch of starlit blue. His eyes rested inquiringly on the face of the man who stood before him. It _was_ Nelson, his shaggy blond brows drawn scowlingly down over his pale eyes; his thin face a mass of tense lines; his big hands fumbling at the neck of his slicker. Rain was coursing down his white cheeks, streaking them with glistening furrows. The fellow was a headache to Curtis. He was overfriendly with a black-browed bos'n's mate named Joe Bradford--the worst trouble maker on board. But there was no question of his ability. He was a good navigating officer--dependable, accurate, conscientious. Nevertheless, his taut face, restless, searching eyes, and eternally nervous manner got Curtis' goat. "Come in, Nelson!" he said. Nelson shouldered his way inside, and stood there in his dripping oilskins, blinking his eyes against the yellow light. Curtis closed the door and nodded toward the bent form of Zukor Androka, with a quizzical grin. "Old Czech-and-Double-Czech is working hard on his latest invention to pull Hitler's teeth and re-establish the Czech Republic!" Nelson had no answering smile, although there had been a great deal of good-natured joking aboard the _Comerford_ ever since the navy department had sent the scientist on board the cruiser to carry on his experiments. "I'm worried, sir!" Nelson said. "I'm not sure about my dead reckoning. This storm--" Curtis threw his arm around Nelson's dripping shoulders. "Forget it! Don't let a little error get you down!" "But this storm, sir!" Nelson avoided Curtis' friendly eyes and slipped out from under his arm. "It's got me worried. Quartering wind of undetermined force, variable and gusty. There's a chop to the sea--as if from unestimated currents among the islets. No chance to check by observation, and now there is a chance--look at me!" He held out his hands. They were shaking as if he had the chills. "You say there is a chance?" Curtis asked. "Stars out?" "As if by providence, sir, there's a clear patch. I'm wondering--" His voice trailed off, but his eyes swung toward the gleaming sextant on the rack. Commander Curtis shrugged good-naturedly and reached for the instrument. "Not that I've lost confidence in you, Nels, but just because you asked for it!" * * * * * Curtis donned his slicker and went outside, sextant in hand. In a few minutes he returned and handed Nelson a sheet of paper with figures underlined heavily. "Here's what I make it," the commander told his navigating officer. "Bet you're not off appreciably." Nelson stared at the computations with shaking head. Then he mutely held up his own. Curtis stared, frowned, grabbed his own sheet again. "Any time I'm that far off old Figure-'em Nelson's estimate, I'm checking back," he declared, frowning at the two papers and hastily rechecking his own figures. "Call up to the bridge to stop her," he told Nelson. "We can't afford to move in these waters with such a possibility of error!" Nelson complied, and the throbbing drive of the engines lessened at once. Nelson said: "I've been wondering, sir, if it wouldn't be advisable to try getting a radio cross-bearing. With all these rocks and islets--" "Radio?" repeated the little Czech, thrusting his face between the other two, in his independent fashion that ignored ship's discipline. "You're using your radio?" He broke into a knowing chuckle, his keen old eyes twinkling behind their thick lenses. "Go ahead and try it. See how much you can get! It will be no more than Hitler can get when Zukor Androka decrees silence over the German airways! Try it! Try it, I say!" Bob Curtis stared at him, as if questioning his sanity. Then he hastened to the radio room, with Nelson at his heels, and the Czech trotting along behind. The door burst open as they neared it. A frightened operator came out, still wearing his earphones, and stood staring upward incredulously at the aërial. "Get us a radio cross-bearing for location at once," Curtis said sharply, for the operator seemed in a daze. "Bearing, sir?" The man brought his eyes down with difficulty, as if still dissatisfied. "I'm sorry, sir, but the outfit's dead. Went out on me about five minutes ago. I was taking the weather report when the set conked. I was trying to see if something's wrong." The Czech inventor giggled. Curtis gave him another curious look and thrust himself into the radio room. "Try again!" he told the operator. "See what you can get!" The radio man leaped to his seat and tried frantically. Again and again, he sent off a request for a cross-bearing from shore stations that had recently been established to insure safety to naval vessels, but there was no answer on any of the bands--not even the blare of a high-powered commercial program in the higher reach, nor the chatter of ships or amateurs on the shorter. "Dead!" Androka muttered, with a bitter laugh. "Yet not dead, gentlemen! The set is uninjured. The waves are what have been upset. I have shattered them around your ship, just as I can eventually shatter them all over Central Europe! For the next two hours, no radio messages can enter or leave my zone of radio silence--of refracted radio waves, set up by my little station on one of the neighboring islets!" * * * * * There was a long pause, while commander and navigator stared at him. Curtis was the first to speak. "Your secrecy might well cost the United States navy one of its best light cruisers--and us our lives!" he said angrily. "We need that check by radio at once! If you're not talking nonsense, call off your dogs till we learn just where we are!" Androka held out his palms helplessly. "I can do nothing. I have given orders to my assistant that he must keep two hours of radio silence! I can get no message to him, for our radio is dead!" As if to mock him, the ship's radio began to answer: "Station 297 calling U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_. Station 297 calling U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_--" "U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_ calling Station 297!" the operator intoned, winking at the two officers over Androka's discomfiture, and asked for the bearings. The answer came back: "Bearings north east by a quarter east, U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_!" Curtis sighed with relief. He saw that Nelson was staring fiercely at the radio operator, as the man went on calling: "U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_ calling Station 364. U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_ calling Station 364--" Then the instrument rasped again: "Station 364 calling U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_. Bearings north west by three west. Bearings north west by three west, U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_ from Cay 364." Commander and navigator had both scribbled verifications of the numbers. Ignoring the gibbering Androka, who was wailing his disappointment that messages had penetrated his veil of silence, they raced for the chart room. Quickly the parallels stepped off the bearing from the designated points. Light intersecting lines proclaimed a check on their position. Curtis frowned and shook his head. Slowly he forced a reluctant grin as he stuck out his hand. "Shake, Nels," he said. "It's my turn to eat crow. You and the radio must be right. Continue as you were!" "I'm relieved, sir, just the same," Nelson admitted, "to have the radio bearings. We'd have piled up sure if you'd been right." They went on through the night. The starlit gap in the clouds had closed. The sky was again a blanket of darkness pouring sheets of rain at them. Nelson went back to the bridge, and Androka returned to the commander's cabin. Curtis lingered in the wireless room with the radio operator. "It's a funny thing," the latter said, still dialing and grousing, "how I got that cross-bearing through and can't get another squeak out of her. I'm wondering if that old goat really _has_ done something to the ether. The set seems O. K." He lingered over the apparatus, checking and rechecking. Tubes lighted; wires were alive to the touch and set him to shaking his head at the tingle they sent through his inquiring fingers. Curtis left him at it, and went to rejoin Androka in the cabin. He found the little inventor pacing up and down, shaking his fists in the air; pausing every now and then to run his bony fingers through his tangled mop of gray hair, or to claw nervously at his beard. "You have seen a miracle, commander!" he shouted at Curtis. "_My_ miracle! My invention has shattered the ether waves hereabouts hopelessly." "Seems to me," Curtis said dryly, "this invention can harm your friends as much as your enemies." The scientist drew himself up to his full height--which was only a little over five feet. His voice grew shrill. "Wait! Just wait! There are other inventions to supplement this one. Put them together, and they will defeat the Nazi hordes which have ravaged my country!" Curtis was a little shocked by the hatred that gleamed in Androka's eyes, under their bushy brows. There was something of the wild animal in the man's expression, as his lips drew back from his yellowed teeth. "Those tanks you have below," Curtis said, "have they some connection with this radio silence?" A far-away look came into Androka's eyes. He did not seem to hear the question. He lowered his voice: "My daughter is still in Prague. So are my sister and her husband, and _their_ two daughters. If the _gestapo_ knew what I am doing, all of them would be better dead. You understand--better dead?" Curtis said: "I understand." "And if the Nazi agents in America knew of the islet from which my zone of silence is projected--" Androka paused, his head tilted to one side, as if he were listening to something-- * * * * * On deck, there was shouting and commotion. Curtis rushed out, pulling on his slicker as he went. The shout from the watch forward had been picked up, and was being relayed all over the ship. The words struck on Curtis' ears with a note of impending tragedy. "Breakers ahead!" He was beside Navigating Officer Nelson on the bridge, and saw the helmsman climbing the rapidly spinning wheel like a monkey as he put it hard aport. Then the ship struck. Everything movable shot ahead until it brought up at the end of a swing or smacked against something solid. Curtis felt Nelson's hand grip his shoulder, as he put his lips close to his ear and shouted: "You must have been right, sir, and the radio bearings and my reckoning wrong. We've hit that reef a terrific smack. I'm afraid we're gored!" "Get out the collision mat!" Curtis ordered. "We ought to be able to keep her up!" And then he became aware of a deadly stillness. A vast wall of silence enveloped the entire cruiser. Looking over the side, he could no longer see the waves that a few minutes before had beaten savagely against the ship. The _Comerford_ was shrouded in a huge pall of yellowish-gray mist, and more of it was coming up from below--from ventilators and hatchways and skylights--as if the whole ship were flooded with some evil vapor. Somehow, Curtis' mind flashed to the stories he'd heard of the forts of the Maginot Line, and of other forts in Holland and Belgium that had fallen before the early Nazi blitzkrieg, when their defenders found themselves struck numb and helpless by a gas that had been flooded into the inner compartments of their strongholds. There were those who said it was the work of sappers who had tunneled under the foundations, while others laid the induction of the gas to Fifth Column traitors. There were a hundred more or less plausible explanations-- The vapor clouds that enveloped the _Comerford_ were becoming thicker. All about the deck lay the forms of unconscious seamen, suddenly stricken helpless. And then Curtis saw other forms flitting about the deck--forms that looked like creatures from another world, but he recognized them for what they were--men wearing gas masks. Nelson was nowhere in sight. The steersman lay in a limp heap beside the swinging wheel. Then a gas-masked figure appeared through the shroud of mist and steadied it, so that the cruiser would not be completely at the mercy of the wind and the waves. Curtis heard the anchor let down, as if by invisible hands, the chain screaming and flailing its clanking way through the hawse hole. Then he was completely walled in by the yellowish-gray mist. He felt his senses swimming. Voices droned all around him in mumbling confusion--guttural voices that ebbed and flowed in a tide of excited talk. He caught a word of English now and then, mixed in with a flood of Teuton phonetics. Two words, in particular, registered clearly on his mind. One was "_Carethusia_"; the other was "convoy." But gradually his eardrums began to throb, as if someone were pounding on them from the inside. He couldn't get his breath; a cloud seemed to be mounting within him until it swept over his brain-- He felt something strike the side of his head, and realized that he had fallen in a heap on the bridge. And after that, he wasn't conscious of anything-- * * * * * The rain had abated to a foggy drizzle. The wash of the surf swung the _Comerford_ in a lazy, rolling motion, as she lay with her bow nosing into the sandbar at the entrance of the inlet. From her bridge, Navigating Officer Nelson watched the gas-masked figures moving about the decks, descending companionways--like goblins from an ancient fairy tale or a modern horror story. Nelson looked like a goblin himself, with his face covered by a respirator. At his side, stood his fellow conspirator Bos'n's Mate Joe Bradford, also wearing a gas mask. Nelson spoke in a low tone, his lips close to Bradford's ear. "It worked, Joe!" "Yeah!" Bradford agreed. "It worked--fine!" The limp bodies of the _Comerford's_ crew were being carried to the lowered accommodation ladder and transferred into waiting lifeboats. Nelson swore under his breath. "Reckon it'll take a couple of hours before the ship's rid of that damn gas!" Bradford shook his head in disagreement. "The old geezer claims he's got a neutralizing chemical in one of them tanks of his that'll clear everything up inside half an hour." "I'd rather get along without Androka, if we could!" Nelson muttered. "He's nothing but a crackpot!" "It was a crackpot who invented the gas we used to break up the Maginot Line," Bradford reminded him. "It saved a lot of lives for the _Fuehrer_--lives that'd have been lost if the forts had to be taken by our storm troopers!" Nelson grunted and turned away. A short, thick-set figure in the uniform of a German naval commander had ascended the accommodation ladder and was mounting to the bridge. He, too, was equipped with a respirator. He came up to Nelson, saluted, and held out his hand, introducing himself as Herr Kommander Brandt. He began to speak in German, but Nelson stopped him. "I don't speak any German," he explained. "I was born and educated in the United States--of German parents, who had been ruined in the First World War. My mother committed suicide when she learned that we were penniless. My father--" He paused and cleared his throat. "_Ja!_ Your father?" the German officer prompted, dropping into accented English. "Your father?" "My father dedicated me to a career of revenge--to wipe out his wrongs," Nelson continued. "If America hadn't gone into the First World War, he wouldn't have lost his business; my mother would still be living. When he joined the Nazi party, the way became clear to use me--to educate me in a military prep school, then send me to Annapolis, for a career in the United States navy--and no one suspected me. No one--" "Sometimes," Bradford put in, "I think Curtis suspected you." "Maybe Curtis'll find out his suspicions were justified," Nelson said bitterly. "But it won't do Curtis any good--a commander who's lost his ship." He turned to Brandt. "You have plenty of men to work the _Comerford_?" Brandt nodded his square head. "We have a full crew--two hundred men--officers, seamen, mechanics, radio men, technical experts, all German naval reservists living in the United States, who've been sent here secretly, a few at a time, during the past six weeks!" * * * * * The three--Brandt, Nelson and Bradford--stood on the bridge and talked, while the efficient stretcher-bearers worked industriously to remove the limp bodies of the _Comerford's_ unconscious crew and row them ashore. And when that task was completed, lifeboats began to come alongside with strange-looking radio equipment, and more gas tanks like those Androka had brought aboard the _Comerford_ with him, and dynamos and batteries that looked like something out of a scientific nightmare. And bustling all over the place, barking excited commands in German, pushing and pulling and pointing to emphasize his directions, was the strange figure of Professor Zukor Androka! "The professor's in his glory!" Nelson remarked to Kommander Brandt. "Funny thing about him," Bradford put in, "is that his inventions work. That zone of silence cut us off completely." Kommander Brandt nodded. "Goodt! But you got your message giving your bearings--the wrong ones?" "Yes," Nelson said. "That came through all right. And won't Curtis have a time explaining it!" "Hereafter," Brandt said solemnly, "the zone of silence vill be projected from the _Comerford_; and ve have another invention of Androka's vich vill be even more useful vhen ve come to cut the _Carethusia_ out of her convoy." "The _Carethusia_?" Nelson asked, in a puzzled tone. Brandt said: "She's a freighter in a convoy out of St. Johns--twelve thousand tons. The orders are to take her; not sink her." "What's the idea?" "Her cargo," Brandt explained. "It iss more precious than rubies. It includes a large shipment of boarts." "Boarts?" Nelson repeated. "What are they?" "Boarts," Brandt told him, "are industrial diamonds--black, imperfectly crystallized stones, but far more valuable to us than flawless diamonds from Tiffany's on Fift' Avenue. They are needed for making machine tools. They come from northern Brazil--and our supply is low." "I should think we could get a shipment of these boarts direct from Brazil--through the blockade," Nelson said, "without taking the risk of capturing a United States navy cruiser." "There are other things Germany needs desperately on board the _Carethusia_," Brandt explained. "Vanadium and nickel and hundreds of barrels of lard oil for machine-tool lubrication. Our agents have been watching the convoys closely for weeks for just such a cargo as the _Carethusia_ is taking over." "Can we trust Androka?" Nelson asked, with a sudden note of suspicion in his voice. "Yes," Brandt assured him. "Of all men--we can trust Androka!" "But he's a Czech," Nelson argued. "The _gestapo_ takes care of Czechs and Poles and Frenchmen and other foreigners whom it chooses as its agents," Brandt pointed out. "Androka has a daughter and other relations in Prague. He knows that if anything misfires, if there is the slightest suspicion of treachery on his part, his daughter and the others will suffer. Androka's loyalty is assured!" Nelson turned to watch the forward fighting top of the _Comerford_. The masked German seamen were installing some sort of apparatus up there--a strange-looking object that looked something like an old-fashioned trench mortar, and which connected with cables to the room that served as Androka's laboratory and workshop. Another crew was installing radio apparatus in the mizzentop turret. Descending a companionway to see what was going on below, Nelson found that portholes were being opened, and men were spraying chemical around to rid the below-decks atmosphere of the lethal gas that had overcome the _Comerford's_ American crew. Returning to the bridge, he found that the tide in the inlet had risen considerably, and that the cruiser was riding more easily at her anchor. Then, at Brandt's orders, the anchor was hauled in, and lifeboats and a motor launch were used as tugs to work the vessel entirely free of the sand bar. This was accomplished without difficulty. Brandt came over to where Nelson was standing on the bridge and held out his hand. "Congratulations, Herr Kommander Nelson!" he said. "Ve have stolen one of the United States navy's newest and fastest cruisers!" He made a gesture as if raising a beer stein to drink a toast. "_Prosit!_" he added. "_Prosit!_" Nelson repeated, and the two grinned at each other. * * * * * Stars were twinkling in a patch of black-blue sky, and broken mountains of gray cloud were skudding before the east wind. Commander Bob Curtis found himself lying in wet sand, on a beach, somewhere, with the rain--now a light, driving mist--beating on his face. He was chilled; his limbs were stiff and numb. His nose and throat felt parched inside, as if a wave of searing heat had scorched them. According to his last calculations, the _Comerford_ had been cruising off the Maine coast. This probably was one of the islets of that region, or it might be the mainland. It was hard work getting to his feet, and when he did manage to stand, he could only plant his heels in the sand and sway to and fro for fully a minute, like a child learning to walk. All around him in the nearly total darkness, he could make out the dim forms of men sprawled on the beach; and of other men moving about, exploring. He heard the murmur of voices and saw the glow of lighted cigarettes. A man with a flashlight was approaching him. Its white glare shone for a moment in Curtis' face, and the familiar voice of Ensign Jack Dillon spoke: "Commander Curtis! Are you O. K., sir?" "I think so!" Curtis' heart warmed at the eager expression in Dillon's face; at the heartfelt concern in his friendly brown eyes. The young ensign was red-headed, impetuous, thoroughly genuine in his emotions. "How about yourself, Jack?" Curtis added. "A bit of a headache from the gas, but that's all. Any orders, sir?" Curtis thought for a moment. "Muster the crew, as best you can. We'll try to make a roll call. Is there any sign of the ship?" There was a solemn note in Dillon's voice. "No, sir. She's been worked off the sandbar and put to sea!" The words struck Curtis with the numbing shock of a blow on some nerve center. For the first time, he realized fully the tragedy that had swept down on him. He had lost his ship--one of the United States navy's fastest and newest small light cruisers--under circumstances which smelled strongly of treachery and sabotage. As he thought back, he realized that he _might_ have prevented the loss, if he had been more alert, more suspicious. For it was clear to him now that the _Comerford_ had been deliberately steered to this place; that the men who had seized her had been waiting here for that very purpose. The pieces of the picture fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle--Androka's zone of silence; the bearings given by radio; Navigating Officer Nelson's queer conduct. They were all part of a carefully laid plan! All the suspicious circumstances surrounding Nelson came flooding into Curtis' mind. He had never liked the man; never trusted him. Nelson always acted as if he had some secret, something to hide. Curtis recalled that Nelson and Androka had long conversations together--conversations which they would end abruptly when anyone else came within earshot. And Nelson had always been chummy with the worst trouble maker in the crew--Bos'n's Mate Bradford. Curtis went around, finding the officers, issuing orders. There were still some unconscious men to be revived. In a sheltered cove among the rocks, an exploring group had found enough dry driftwood to make a fire-- In another hour, the skies had cleared, and white moonlight flooded the scene with a ghostly radiance. The men of the _Comerford_ had all regained consciousness and were drying out in front of the big driftwood bonfires in the cove. Curtis ordered a beacon kept burning on a high promontory. Then he got the men lined up, according to their respective classifications, for a check-up on the missing. When this was completed, it was found that the _Comerford's_ entire complement of two hundred and twenty men were present--except Navigating Officer Nelson, and Bos'n's Mate Bradford! And Zukor Androka was also missing! With the coming of dawn, a little exploration revealed that the _Comerford's_ crew was marooned on an islet, about a square mile in area; that they had been put ashore without food or extra clothing or equipment of any kind, and that no boats had been left for them. One searching party reported finding the remains of what had been a radio station on a high promontory on the north shore of the islet. Another had found the remains of tents and log cabins, recently demolished, in a small, timbered hollow--a well-hidden spot invisible from the air, unless one were flying very low; a place where two hundred or more men could have camped. There was a good water supply--a small creek fed by springs--but nothing in the way of food. Evidently food was a precious commodity which the recent inhabitants of the islet couldn't afford to leave behind. Curtis was studying the wreckage of the wireless station, wondering if this might have been the source of Androka's zone of silence, when Ensign Jack Dillon came up to him. "There's a coast-guard cutter heading for the island, sir," he announced. * * * * * From the coast-guard station on Hawk Island, a fast navy plane whipped Commander Bob Curtis to the naval base at Portsmouth, New Hampshire. But he was received there with suspicious glances. Even some of his old buddies from way back did no more than give him a limp handshake and a faint "Good luck, Bob!" when they heard of his misadventure. Within two hours of his arrival, he was facing a court of inquiry, presided over by Rear Admiral Henderson--a sarcastic, leathery-faced seadog, who had fought as an ensign under Schley at Santiago in '98, and had since seen service on the North Sea patrol in the First World War. Even to his best friends, he was known as "Old Curmudgeon." Curtis fidgeted uncomfortably under his questions. They were so hostile in tone, phrased in such a way as to imply guilt on his part, that Curtis could not help feeling that he was making a bad impression. "Will you kindly repeat that statement in a clear voice, so that everyone can hear you, commander?" the rear admiral demanded, with a stinging sharpness in his tone. Curtis cleared his throat and repeated his former explanation: "The radio bearings from the two shore stations checked exactly with the dead reckoning of my navigating officer, refuting my astronomical observation. Naturally, I conceded that I must be wrong, although I could not understand how I made such a mistake." The voice of Old Curmudgeon became suave and silky--the kind of voice he used when he wished to be nasty. "Commander, did you _hear_ the radioed replies from the island stations in answer to your operator's inquiries?" Curtis squared his shoulders and faced his questioner boldly. "I did, sir. The radio man on duty reported that he was unable to get anything from the set; claimed it was dead. I insisted that he try, although Androka claimed he had instituted a period of radio silence by some device operating on a neighboring island. He was intensely disappointed when both stations answered clearly and distinctly, giving us bearings that checked with Lieutenant Commander Nelson's dead reckoning." The rear admiral sneered. "A very pretty story, commander--but all a fabrication!" Curtis stiffened. His eyes blazed anger for a full minute, out of a face already drawn and white. "I shall now proceed to prove my accusations," Old Curmudgeon continued. "Bring in those operators!" There was a commotion at the door, and two radio men came in, saluting smartly. Curtis wondered what was coming. Old Curmudgeon smiled at them. "You are the radio operators on island stations 297 and 364?" "Yes, sir." "And you were both on duty during the mysterious two hours of silence on the night of July 7th?" "Yes, sir!" "Did you at any time during the two hours leave your posts?" "No, sir!" "Did you, during those two hours, receive any call whatsoever or give out bearings to any ship, particularly the U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_?" "No, sir!" "You are positive about that?" "Yes, sir!" "Gentlemen," the rear admiral said triumphantly, turning to the board of inquiry, "I submit to you that this evidence proves that Commander Curtis has told an untruth. I recommend that he be court-martialed on charges of gross negligence in the loss of government property intrusted to his care and of misrepresenting facts regarding the circumstances of loss!" During the awed silence that followed, Curtis felt his world whirling to pieces. The rear admiral's voice went on in its most rasping tone: "I recommend further, gentlemen, that Commander Curtis be relieved from active duty, placed on parole, and confined to this station on his own recognizance until the disappearance of the _Comerford_ can be thoroughly investigated." The members of the inquiry board conferred and voted. There was no dissenting voice from the opinion expressed by Old Curmudgeon. Angry, ashamed, dazed, Curtis stood to hear the verdict announced. "Gentlemen," he managed to say, his tongue almost choking him, "my only hope is for speedy recovery of the ship!" Later, in the room assigned to him in the naval barracks, Curtis listened for almost an hour to his short-wave radio set; but it told him nothing of the _Comerford_--and that was all he cared about. He shut it off and reached for the telephone. A new idea had come into his mind--something he had vaguely remembered from the night before, the two words overheard as he lay half conscious on the _Comerford's_ bridge--"_Carethusia_"--"convoy." "Is there an officer of the British naval intelligence in town?" he asked the operator. "Yes, sir. Captain Rathbun. Shall I get him for you?" "Please!" * * * * * Fifteen minutes later, Curtis was in the small office where the British naval man made his headquarters, on the main street of the town. Rathbun listened with close attention to Curtis' story, throwing in a question now and then. "Yes," he said, "there is a ship called the _Carethusia_ carrying supplies to Britain. But it'd take a little time to locate her. I'd have to wire Halifax!" He sent off a code telegram and waited. An hour elapsed--two hours--then came the reply. Rathbun decoded it and read it to Curtis. "_Carethusia_, carrying valuable cargo to Britain, left St. Johns, Newfoundland, in convoy midnight Friday. American destroyers will join, according to instructions." "That," Curtis said, "solves part of my problem. The _Comerford's_ after the _Carethusia_. There must be something of particular value aboard that the _Comerford_ wants!" "Yes," Captain Rathbun agreed. "There _must_ be!" Curtis stood up. "Thank you, captain! You've helped me a lot! You've shown me where to look for the _Comerford_!" Captain Rathbun shook hands with him. "Right-o! Come and see me again, if there's anything else I can do!" "Do you suppose you could wire the _Carethusia_ and warn her--or warn the commander of the convoy?" "That would have to be done from Halifax, or St. Johns," Rathbun said. "I'll ask them." "And will you let me know what happens?" Curtis asked. "Gladly," said the Britisher. Outside, Curtis walked at a breathless pace, almost knocking over a couple of pedestrians and innocent bystanders in his haste. Reaching the naval administration building, he ran up the stairs two at a time to the top floor and barged unannounced into the office of Rear Admiral Henderson. Old Curmudgeon looked up from his desk with a sour grin on his leathery face. "What d'you mean, Curtis--" he began. But Bob Curtis ignored his indignation, let the door swing to behind him, and sat down in the vacant chair beside the desk. "This is no time to stand on ceremony, sir!" he stated firmly. "I've come to give information as to where the _Comerford_ is most likely to be found!" A sneer twisted Old Curmudgeon's hard features, and anger blazed coldly in his blue eyes. "You wish to make a clean breast of the whole thing, Curtis?" "I've been proved guilty of nothing," Curtis reminded him. "I have nothing to confess. If you don't want to listen to me--" Old Curmudgeon's eyes softened. The lines of his face relaxed. "I'm listening." Curtis quickly told him of the words he'd overheard as he lay half conscious on the bridge of the _Comerford_, and of how they dovetailed with the information obtained from the British Intelligence Service. Henderson seemed impressed. There was a more respectful note in his gruff voice. He picked up his telephone and started to dial. "Remember, Curtis, I'm doing this at your insistence!" Crisply, concisely, he gave his message, then got up from his desk and went to the window. His eyes turned toward the basin, where the big navy patrol bombers lay at their floats. His head cocked, as if listening for the roar of their motors. Curtis moved toward him. His eyes lighted with hope as he heard the man-made thunder, saw the big birds taxi out, pick up speed, go soaring into the air, after kicking their spiteful way off the tops of a few waves. "They'll have our answer," Henderson said, "within a few hours. I'll let you know what happens!" Curtis took the words as meaning that he was dismissed. He thanked Old Curmudgeon and started back for his quarters. There, he crouched over the short-wave radio set and waited and listened. The air was alive with calls and messages. From time to time, he caught the reports from the three navy planes that were winging steadily on their flight after the _Comerford_. Then, just after midnight, the reassuring words of the operator on one of the bombers were cut off short. "They've struck the zone of silence," Curtis whispered. "The _Comerford_ must have spread it, so that it encircles the entire convoy. Those bombers'll shove in, see what's happening and come back out of the zone to report, even if their radios are silenced. Nelson never figured on that!" His telephone shrilled. It was Captain Rathbun, of the British Intelligence. His words confirmed Curtis' suspicions. "I've just had word from Halifax. They arranged to contact the _Carethusia's_ convoy by wireless every night at eleven-thirty, but tonight, they got no answer. The convoy must be caught in the zone of silence." Curtis couldn't keep the note of triumph out of his voice. "Then all we've got to do is locate the convoy--and we've got the _Comerford_!" "Cheerio!" said Rathbun's voice, and he hung up. * * * * * Curtis relaxed in his chair beside the short-wave set. Dawn came and found him still alert, listening, wakeful. He had breakfast sent up, but touched nothing except the pot of black coffee. Several times, he computed the probable flying time of the three planes, and the distance the slow-moving convoy could have covered since sailing at midnight on the previous Friday. Then he tried to find the position of the convoy on the map. Again the phone rang. A strange voice spoke over the wire. "This is Rear Admiral Henderson's office. He'd like you to come over at once." "I'll be there!" Curtis said. He found Old Curmudgeon pacing nervously up and down, chewing savagely on a half-smoked cigar which smelled vilely. From the expression on the old seadog's face, he knew there was bad news. "I've just had a message from the _Lexington_," Henderson said. "She's found the bombers!" "Found them?" Curtis was puzzled. The rear admiral's face was gloomy. "They were floating--in a sinking condition. The crews of all three were dazed. None of them could understand what had happened, but they all told the same story!" "And what was it?" Curtis asked, as Old Curmudgeon paused. The older man slumped into his chair, his shoulders sagging wearily. "They were circling about the _Comerford_, ready to close in, when a sudden blinding flash, which seemed to come from the foremast turret, killed both radio and motor." "That must have been the new invention Androka was working on!" Curtis exclaimed. "Have you heard how badly the equipment was damaged?" "Yes," Old Curmudgeon answered. "It was burned out by a terrific heat that melted copper wires, cracked the porcelain on plugs, and fused them into their sockets. Batteries, magnetos, tubes--everything was destroyed!" Curtis leaned forward and gazed earnestly into the rear admiral's tired face. "Sir, you have received proof that something unusual has taken place aboard the _Comerford_; that she is in the hands of enemies. Do you believe now that I have told the truth?" Old Curmudgeon's eyes held a kinder expression than Curtis had ever seen in them before. "Yes; I believe you!" "Thank you, sir!" Bob Curtis said, deeply moved. "I don't blame you," he added. "The story I told was unbelievable! But I think I know a way to catch up with the _Comerford_--recapture her without destroying her!" "Tell me your plan!" Henderson said quietly, and he leaned back in his chair to listen. Curtis spoke to him earnestly for some time. When he had finished, Old Curmudgeon raised his telephone and began dialing and giving orders. Then he stood up and held out his hand. "Good luck, commander! Your plane'll be ready in half an hour!" * * * * * Commander Bob Curtis was in the co-pilot's seat, as the big PBY flying boat, one of the navy's latest-type patrol bombers, spanked out into the choppy water, lifted, went roaring off. The miles slipped away astern under the pull of its mighty propellers as they raced on their journey. Every once in a while, Curtis turned his eyes away from the restless gray Atlantic to glance toward the cabin, where the navigator and wireless operator sat at his little table. There was, he knew, a machine gunner at his post in the tail of the plane, and a bombardier lying flat in the nose of the fuselage. At short intervals, Curtis got the relayed radio reports, through his headphones, from the _Lexington_. The seaplane's wireless was keeping in constant touch with the big aircraft carrier, which evidently was still outside the limits of Zukor Androka's zone of silence. The _Lexington_ held the key to Curtis' secret plan. This flight was the first leg of his journey to recapture the _Comerford_. At the controls, the pilot, Lieutenant Delton, sat relaxed, smiling confidently, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He offered one to Curtis, who took it with a nod of thanks, lighted it and inhaled deeply. It tasted good, eased the strain on his nerves. The voice of the navigator came through his phones. "_Lexington_ hasn't answered for the past half hour. I've been calling her every five minutes!" Curtis' heart leaped at the news. The _Lexington_ had come into the silence area! That might mean the _Comerford_ was close at hand; or it might be five hundred miles away. For that, Curtis figured, was the maximum radius over which Androka's zone could extend its influence. And the device for killing all electrical apparatus with a ray would necessarily operate at a much shorter distance--unless Androka's invention bordered on the miraculous. The _Lexington_ hove in sight. Curtis thrilled at the sight of her top deck, with its rows upon rows of planes, their propellers agleam in the sunlight that had recently broken through the Atlantic fog. For a moment, his lips tightened as he thought of the destruction which Androka's deadly ray could wreak on this splendid array of aircraft, and the resolution in him gained renewed confidence, as his eyes swept the _Lexington's_ powerful hull. He was aware that the pilot had shut off the motor and was gliding in a circular descent that would bring the heavy navy bomber taxiing to a stop alongside the aircraft carrier. The man out front in the bomber's pit had diffused his bombs and left his post in the nose of the fuselage, and the machine-gunner aft had come out of his nest--both glad of the opportunity to change their cramped quarters for a spell. The _Lexington_ lowered a boat and took Curtis on board. A few minutes later, he was explaining his theory to the _Lexington's_ commander, with the aid of a map of the Atlantic in the chart room. "The way I figure it, sir," he stated, "is that the _Comerford_ has been detailed to cut the _Carethusia_ out of her convoy and take her to some French port--probably Bordeaux, where she will be less likely to prove a target for R. A. F. bombers." The _Lexington's_ commander nodded. "I think I follow you. The _Carethusia's_ cargo must be something of immense value to the Nazi war machine." "There's no doubt that it is, sir," Curtis said, "or they wouldn't take so much trouble to capture it. And there'd be no point in separating the _Carethusia_ from her convoy before they're fairly close to the French port which they intend to make." "Where do you place the convoy at present?" the other man asked. Curtis put his finger on a spot on the map, in about mid-Atlantic, along one of the more northerly sea lanes. "I've checked with the British Naval Intelligence. The convoy makes the voyage in sixteen days, under normal conditions. Its speed is that of the slowest boat. It left at midnight last Friday, and this is Friday again." "And the _Comerford_?" "The _Comerford_," Curtis said, "is undoubtedly with the convoy, making the British believe that she is one of the American war vessels which usually pick up these convoys at a designated point on the way across." The _Lexington's_ commander frowned; his face wore a puzzled expression. "But suppose the British escort ships discover the deception?" "If it came to a showdown," Curtis argued, "the _Comerford_, equipped with Androka's inventions, is more than a match for any or all of the British war vessels with the convoy. You know they're using mostly light corvettes and over-age destroyers these days." "I guess you're right," the other agreed. "I haven't forgotten the mess the _Comerford_ made of those three bombers we picked up." "How long," Curtis asked, "would it take the _Lexington_ to get within striking distance of the convoy--say between fifty and a hundred miles?" "We could make it shortly after nightfall tomorrow," the other decided, after a bit of figuring. "And that special plane you've reserved for me will be ready then?" Curtis said. "It's ready now, if you want it," the commander of the _Lexington_ told him. * * * * * The convoy was wallowing its way through the darkness, across the dreary wastes of the Atlantic, following a far-northern sea lane that would be most likely to offer safety from attack by enemy raiders and U-boats. The _Comerford_ had joined the convoy shortly after it had passed the shores of Iceland, reporting that she had been sent to strengthen it against possible attack by a powerful German sea raider that was reported to be at large in the north Atlantic. The story was accepted by the commander of the convoy squadron. In the center of the convoy, the ten ships containing the most valuable cargoes were ranged in parallel lines. They were ringed around by a cordon of converted merchant vessels, armed cargo ships and destroyers, in addition to the U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_, and the aforementioned British cruiser of First World War vintage. On the bridge of the _Comerford_, Navigating Officer Nelson, ex-U. S. N., stood watching the other vessels as they plowed their way through the heavy seas. All were running without lights, but the phosphorescent wash of the water against their bows and the dark bulk of their hulls revealed their positions. Nelson's chief attention was focused on the central group of ships--especially on the _Carethusia_. Another day, perhaps, and it would be time to make his bid to cut the _Carethusia_ out of the convoy and head her for the French port designated in the secret orders which Herr Kommander Brandt had brought on board with him. Here was Herr Kommander Brandt now, climbing the ladder to the bridge on his stumpy legs. He came up to Nelson, puffing obesely. "_Ach!_ I vish dis woyage was ofer!" Brandt grunted. "I hope you mean _successfully_ over," Nelson said. "Dot old Czech!" Brandt grumbled. "He iss driving me crazy with his fool inventions!" "Czech and double Czech!" Nelson kidded him. "But his inventions do all he claims for them; and that's saying a lot!" "_Ja!_" Brandt agreed. "Dot's so. But--" He broke off with a guttural oath in German, as a low droning overhead came to his ears. Nelson heard it, too, and raised his night glasses to sweep the sky for the source of the sound. Suddenly he clutched Brandt by the arm and handed the glasses to him. "There! Look!" Brandt took the binoculars and focused them to suit his own vision. "It is some sort of airplane," he said a few minutes later, returning the glasses to Nelson. "A queer-looking one. I can't quite make it out!" Nelson took the glasses and refocused them. There _was_ something queer about the gliding motion of the aircraft, and then as it came closer, he could make out that it had a second propeller overhead. "It's a helicopter!" he exclaimed softly. "But it hardly makes any sound at all--a noiseless helicopter. I bet it's Diesel-engined!" "_Ja?_" There was surprise in Herr Kommander Brandt's tone. "And I'll bet," Nelson went on, his eyes suddenly flashing and his voice quivering with excitement, "that Curtis has sent it after us. He always advocated the freer use of helicopters, especially the Diesel-engined type. It wouldn't surprise me if he's in it!" "Ve can blast him out of the air mit Androka's ray!" Brandt said. "Like ve blasted those bombers!" "Maybe!" Nelson's tone held a touch of doubt. "We can try!" He used his telephone to call Androka. "Get busy, Androka!" he said into the mouthpiece. "Blast it with your plane-destroyer! Come up right away!" The old inventor's cracked voice answered over the wire. "I'll be with you at once!" * * * * * Nelson left the bridge and met Androka on the way to the room in the superstructure from which he operated the rays for the destruction of electric equipment. The old inventor's eyes were blazing with an almost maniacal light as he fiddled with various levers and batteries. From high above them, in the fighting top of the steel foremast, came the humming of a powerful dynamo as the apparatus built up its tremendous voltage. Through a skylight in the roof of his workshop, Androka sighted the hovering plane. He spoke into the telephone. In the turret top of the foremast, a weapon that looked like an old-style trench mortar was suddenly uncovered. Androka said a few words in German into the speaking tube and watched, as the huge mouth of the weapon swung toward the hovering plane. There was a flash, a shower of sparks; rays darted from the muzzle of the weapon in the mast turret. But the dynamic force that had blasted three navy bombers into helpless wreckage had no effect on the strange craft that hung suspended in the sky over the _Comerford_. And then it seemed that the powerful rays struck something--something afar off that picked them up like a handful of thunderbolts and hurled them back. There was a report, like the blowing out of a giant fuse. The whole hull of the _Comerford_ shuddered, as if from the impact of a powerful electric shock. The vessel quivered from stem to stern. Lights dimmed, went out. For fully ten seconds, there wasn't an atom of power on board the _Comerford_. She was stricken as if with a paralysis of her electric force. Then the dimmed lights began to glow again. Nelson looked at Androka, his cheeks ghastly. "What ... what happened?" "The rays must have struck some electric cable carrying tremendous power--more powerful than any cable to be found on shipboard," the inventor explained, in a husky voice. "That would put so heavy a power load on it that the rays were no longer capable of short-circuiting it to extinction. They carried the overload back to us and burned out our generator." "But that little plane," Nelson argued. "It couldn't--" Androka shrugged his narrow shoulders and ran his fingers nervously through his gray beard. "There must be some other vessel near at hand--with power cables such as I have described." Nelson cursed savagely and tore out of the room. He raced up the ladder to the bridge, tugged at Herr Kommander Brandt's sleeve. "That fool Androka's rays have failed. They've short-circuited themselves. We've got to shoot down Curtis--that helicopter--with our antiaircraft guns!" "Better have Androka release the radio and tell the others what we're doing," Brandt advised. In the next few minutes, the radio silence was lifted long enough to let Nelson tell the rest of the convoy that an enemy plane was hovering over the _Comerford_. Then a blast from the antiaircraft batteries of the cruiser screamed into the sky. Other armed vessels in the convoy cut loose with a fierce barrage. A few minutes of bedlam. Then the firing ceased. Nelson, sweeping the sky with his binoculars, saw the blasted fragments of wings and fuselage fluttering out of the clouds, to be swallowed up in the black waters. He handed the glasses to Brandt, saying: "I reckon that's the end of Curtis and his helicopter!" Herr Kommander Brandt searched the sky for a moment, then explored the dark wastes of ocean astern. "_Ja_," he agreed. "Ve must have blown him to bits. He ain't in the sky nor the sea!" * * * * * Other eyes were watching the fragments of aircraft wreckage that drifted with the eternal wash of the Atlantic waves astern of the convoy. Through the observation window in the helicopter's fuselage, Commander Bob Curtis grinned as he watched the sea-tossed remains of the dummy plane--a smaller replica of the helicopter--that he had thrown out as a target for the antiaircraft batteries of the _Comerford_. Slowly he wound in the light cable by which the decoy aircraft had been lowered from the trapdoor in the helicopter's hull to take the full fury of the barrage, while Curtis and his pilot Lieutenant Jay Lancaster were hovering safely far overhead, protected by a cloud of vapor. Curtis thrilled with a sense of keen satisfaction, because many of his own ideas were embodied in this helicopter. For many months of his spare time, he had worked in the navy's chemical laboratories on the aluminoid paint formula that rendered it practically invisible, especially when enveloped by the cloud of gas that could be released from the series of valves in the fuselage by touching a key on the instrument board. The collapsible dummy plane, which could be towed at a safe distance as a decoy for ambitious antiaircraft gunners had also been Curtis' own idea. For hours after that, the helicopter drifted in the sky, high over the convoy, which, Curtis found, was still enveloped in the zone of radio silence, for he could neither send nor receive any message through the ether. Finally, he touched Lancaster on the arm and spoke into the mouthpiece on his chest: "The _Comerford's_ running alongside the _Carethusia_. If the other ships try to interfere, the _Comerford's_ guns are heavy enough to sink them. There's only one thing to do. We _must_ break that zone of radio silence!" "But how--" Lancaster began. "Listen!" Curtis said, and spoke rapidly for the next few minutes. Lancaster began to maneuver the helicopter, throttling down the frontal engine, and reversing the lateral engine, so that the plane glided in slow circles, like a swooping hawk, till it was about three hundred feet above the _Comerford's_ mastheads. Curtis shook hands with Lancaster. The latter murmured "Good luck!" and Curtis crawled out of the cockpit and back into the plane's small cabin. He loosened the fastenings of his 'chute pack, saw that his automatic was safe in its holster. Then he pushed open the escape hatch and jumped out into space. From the plane's cloud-gas valves, a mass of opaque vapor streamed, enveloping him in a fog-like cloud that combined with the blackness of the night to render him invisible to those on the ship below. The 'chute opened out, and Curtis found himself descending on the _Comerford_. By kicking with his legs and manipulating the cords, he maneuvered the 'chute so that he would land in the mizzen-mast turret. From what Androka had once told him--perhaps in an unguarded moment--he felt certain that the radio silence was projected from this point. The cords of his 'chute tangled with the basket-like structure of the mast. Curtis got out his knife, cut himself free of the 'chute, then scrambled down the mast till he was at the entrance to the turret. He pushed his way into the small chamber and found himself facing two sailors, in United States naval uniforms, but they uttered harsh exclamations in German at sight of him, and went for their holstered automatics. Curtis brought his gun up, pointed it, and squeezed the trigger--once--twice--three times--four-- The first German sailor's face took on a look of surprise, the guttural curses died on his lips, as he slumped forward in a bloody heap. The second man uttered a scream and clutched at his chest, as Curtis' lead tore into him. Then he fell beside his companion. * * * * * A huge dome stood in the center of the turret, with antennae radiating out from it in every direction. Curtis could hear the low, humming drone, as of a powerful dynamo at work, and he could see a heavy cable, which evidently fed this dome of silence with its power. He found a switch and shut off the current; then he attacked the cable with the pliers he had brought with him. One by one, the thick strands of wire began to part-- Behind him, a harsh, inhuman cry caused Curtis to look around swiftly. Instinctively, he dropped the pliers, reached for his automatic, then hesitated, his finger on the safety catch. Zukor Androka stood in the turret entrance, his gray hair floating in wisps around his head, his eyes ablaze with a maniac's fury, his hands extended toward Curtis like gouging claws. "You ... you ... you have ruined my invention!" Androka murmured, in a heartbroken voice. "You have wrecked the zone of silence!" Curtis took a step forward, seized the Czech inventor by the shoulder and shook him. "You dirty little traitor!" he barked. "You've lied and cheated--sold out to the Nazis you profess to hate!" Androka looked at him, terror-stricken, evidently recognizing him for the first time. "You--you're Commander Curtis!" "Yes!" Curtis gave the inventor another shake and released him. "And you helped steal my ship--tried to ruin me as an officer of the United States navy!" "Listen!" Androka moved closer to Curtis, then fell on his knees in an attitude of supplication. "Listen to me!" Curtis stared at him coldly. "I'm listening, Androka. But talk quickly!" "Commander, I was forced to do this. I had to do it--to save the lives of my people back in Prague. My daughter--" "Yes," Curtis cut his protestations short. "I know about that!" Androka fumbled inside his coat and pulled out a sheaf of papers and blueprints. "Here, Curtis! These are the designs, the secret details of manufacture, and the formulas for my inventions--the zone of silence, the destroying rays that wrecked those bombers, and the gas. I'm giving them to you. I'll never use them again--no matter what happens to those I love. I swear it!" Curtis took the papers and thrust them into an inner pocket. Then he knelt and quickly completed his task of severing the strands of the cable. He pushed past the groveling form of Androka, and the still corpses of the two sailors, climbed down the mast to the superstructure, and headed for the wireless room. The operator sat at his table, a cigarette drooping in the corner of his mouth, half asleep. Curtis clubbed him efficiently with the butt of his gun. The man slumped forward with a groan and lay still. Curtis hauled him to one side and then sat down to send: "Come aboard U. S. Cruiser _Comerford_ at once. Ship in hands of Nazis, in plot to steal the _Carethusia_. Commander Curtis speaking from the _Comerford_. Lancaster, summon help--" Curtis stopped and hurriedly cast aside the headphones. The sound of heavy footsteps outside warned him of impending danger. He reached for his gun, released the safety catch, and whirled about. Men were crowding the doorway of the wireless room--men in whose throats rumbled the angry cry of a baffled wolf pack, whose eyes gleamed with the savage light of murder. The wireless room was abruptly full of powder smoke, punctuated with gun flashes, as he sprayed bullets at the doorway. The steel door protected him; his attackers were exposed. He saw that the crowd had given way before the figure of one man, bolder than the rest--or perhaps more desperate--pushing forward, a blazing automatic in his hand. Curtis recognized the white, hard-lined face, the pale, cruel eyes, set under shaggy blond brows, now blazing with a wild, half-insane light--Nelson! Curtis was busy shoving in a new clip of ammunition-- A shot from Nelson's pistol went wild, shattered the lights, throwing the wireless room into almost total darkness. His second bullet seared Curtis' jaw, a burning, flesh-tearing wound. Another smashed into his shoulder--high up. Curtis felt sick as he felt lead splintering the bone. He fired--and missed. His shoulder ached--He gritted his teeth, steadied his aim, and let Nelson have it again. In the faint light that came in at the entrance, he saw Nelson's white face suddenly become a crimson mask. His body fell backward--outside. Curtis dashed forward and slammed the steel door, bolting it, locking himself in. A terrible wave of nausea rose up within him. The pain of his wounded shoulder was like torturing knives turning in his flesh, grinding against the shattered bones-- He felt his fingers relax on his gun, as his knees buckled under him, and he sank to the floor. The next thing Curtis knew, he was in a ship's cabin in bed, his wounded shoulder incased in a comfortable surgical dressing. A brown-skinned Filipino mess boy poked his head in and grinned in friendly fashion. On his cap, Curtis read the lettering "U. S. S. _Lexington_" and knew that he must have been taken on board the big aircraft carrier. The mess boy ducked out as quietly as he had looked in, and a few minutes later, the _Lexington's_ commander entered. "Congratulations!" he said cordially, after asking Curtis how he felt. "Everything worked out perfectly. The new helicopter had its first chance to demonstrate its efficiency and came through a hundred percent. You were right also in your theory that the _Lexington's_ power cables, with their tremendous current-carrying capacity, would shatter the rays into worthless junk. The power from our cables kicked back on Androka's invention and smashed it!" Curiosity prompted Curtis to ask a question. "What ... what became of Androka? Did he--" He paused as he saw the gleam of horror in the other man's eyes! "Androka got panicked," the commander of the _Lexington_ said, "when he saw that the _Comerford_ had been surrounded by the fighting vessels of the British convoy, and he knew that both his inventions were wrecked. I guess seeing Nelson dead softened him up, too." "So what did Androka do?" Curtis asked. "Blow up the ship?" The _Lexington's_ commander shook his head slowly. "No; he blew _himself_ up--in his work-room--with some explosives he'd been experimenting with!" Curtis leaned back on his pillows. The excitement of listening to the other's story had made him a little tense. He felt he needed to relax. 
41185	----	The Voice from the Void The Great Wireless Mystery. By William Le Queux Published by Cassell and Company Ltd, London, NY, Toronto, Melbourne. The Voice from the Void, by William Le Queux. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ THE VOICE FROM THE VOID, BY WILLIAM LE QUEUX. CHAPTER ONE. CONCERNS A STRANGER. "Yes! I'm certain it was Gordon Gray--the man whose face I can never forget, and whom I could identify among a million! Gordon Gray! _Returned from, the dead_!" The white-haired rector, the Reverend Norton Homfray, a tall, sparely-built man of sixty-five, pursed his lips and drew a long breath. He was evidently greatly upset. He had taken off his surplice in the vestry after evening service, and now stood motionless against the old rood-screen gazing into the cavernous darkness of the empty Norman church. The congregation had dispersed into the winter darkness, wandering slowly and piously through the churchyard and out by the old lych-gate and down the hill, and old Morley, the verger, had already turned out the lights. "Yes," murmured the old clergyman, "he sat in the last pew yonder listening to me as I preached! Surely he cannot have risen from the grave, for I heard that he died at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York eighteen months ago! Forget him? Ah!" he sighed. "How can I ever forget? Why is he here in Little Farncombe, I wonder?" For a few moments he remained motionless in the silent gloom of the historic old church, with its beautiful Norman arches so admired by archaeologists from all parts of the country. The stillness was broken only by the creaking of old Morley's Sunday boots and the slow deep tick of the clock in the belfry. Then, at last, he buttoned his overcoat and made his way out into the windy December night, passing round the churchyard and entering the grounds of his quiet old-world, ivy-clad rectory, a sixteenth-century house too large for his needs and too expensive for his slender pocket. Norton Homfray was a fine type of country rector, a theological scholar and highly popular with all in his rural parish. As a young man at Balliol he had taken high honours, and when a curate at Durham he had married. After twenty-seven years of married happiness Mrs Homfray had died four years ago leaving one son, Roderick, a heavy-jawed young fellow, now twenty-six. Mr Homfray had been utterly crushed by his wife's death, and his house was now conducted by Mrs Bentley, a deaf old woman with a high-pitched voice. When the latter, in order to make up the fire, came into the long old dining-room, a heavily-furnished apartment with several old portraits on the walls and French windows across which heavy dark-green curtains were drawn, she found Mr Homfray sitting beside the glowing logs staring straight at the embers. Of late he had been unusually silent and morose. Therefore she put on a couple of logs and left the room without speaking. When she had closed the door the old man, whose strong face was thrown into bold relief by the fitful light of the fire, stirred uneasily in a manner that showed him to be highly nervous and anxious. "Roddy must never know! _Roddy must never know--never_!" he kept whispering to himself. And the light of the blazing logs rose and fell, illuminating his fine old face, the countenance of an honest, upright man. "No!" he murmured to himself, too agitated even to enjoy his pipe which he always smoked as relaxation after preaching his sermon. "No, I am not mistaken! Gordon Gray is still in the flesh! But why should he come here, as though risen from the grave? I saw him come in after the service had commenced. He sat there staring straight at me--staring as though in evil triumph. Why? What can it mean?" And the thin, white-haired man lapsed into silence again, still staring into the blazing logs, the light from which danced about the long dining-room. On a little mahogany side-table near where the rector was seated stood a small tin tobacco-box attached by a cord to a pair of wireless telephones, and also to a thick, rubber-covered wire which ran to the window and passed out to the garden. Roddy Homfray, the rector's son, was a young mining engineer, and also an enthusiastic wireless amateur. In an adjoining room he had a very fine wireless set, most of which he had constructed himself, but the little tobacco-box was a "freak" crystal-receiver set which he could carry in his pocket, together with the telephones, and by using a little coil of wire, also easily carried--which he could stretch anywhere as an aerial--he could listen to any of the high-power stations such as Paris, Leafield, Carnarvon, Nantes or Bordeaux. It was a remarkably sensitive little piece of apparatus, ships and "spark" stations being also received with peculiar clearness. That wonderful little contrivance had been described in several of the journals devoted to the science of radio, together with photographs, and had caused a sensation. As the old clergyman's eyes fell upon it he drew a long breath, and then whispered to himself: "Poor Roddy! If he knew! Ah! If he knew! But he must never know the truth. It would break his heart, poor boy!" Sight of the stranger who had sat alone in the pew at the back of the church had brought to him a flood of bitter memories, haunting recollections of a closed page in his history--one that he never dared reopen. Meanwhile Roddy Homfray, a tall, dark-haired, clean-limbed fellow who, though young, had made several mining expeditions in Brazil and Peru as assistant to a well-known engineer, had left the church after service and walked down the hill towards the village. Recently he had been in Peru for five months, and had only returned a week ago and again taken up his hobby of wireless. Three days before, while walking down the road from Little Farncombe into Haslemere to take train to London, he had overtaken an extremely dainty chestnut-haired girl, _petite_ and full of charm, warmly clad in rich furs. She was evidently a lady. With her was a black toy pom which ran yapping at Roddy, as was its nature. "Tweedles! Come here," she cried, and having called off her pet she in a sweet refined voice apologised. Roddy laughed, assuring her that he was not in the least alarmed, and then they walked the remainder of the way side by side, chatting about the picturesqueness of the Surrey hills, until at last he lifted his hat and left her. She did not look more than seventeen, though he afterwards found that she was twenty. He had become fascinated by her extreme beauty, by her manner, and her inexpressible grace and charm, and as he sat in the express rushing towards London her sweet oval face and deep violet eyes arose time after time before him. On that Sunday morning he had called upon his old friend Hubert Denton, the village doctor, and while smoking before the fire in the low-pitched sitting-room, he had described his meeting with the fair stranger. "Oh! That's Elma Sandys," replied the doctor, a thick-set man of about forty-five. "What? The daughter of Mr Purcell Sandys who has just bought Farncombe Towers?" asked Roddy in surprise. "Yes. As I dare say you know, Purcell Sandys is a well-known financier in the City and has a house in Park Lane," said the doctor. "A few months ago he bought the Towers and the great estates, including three villages with their advowsons, from the Earl of Farncombe." "He must be immensely rich," remarked Roddy reflectively. "Yes, no doubt. He is a widower and Elma is his only daughter. She looks only a child. I was asked to dinner at the Towers a fortnight ago, and I found both father and daughter charming--the girl especially so. Since leaving school her father has taken her travelling quite a lot. Last winter they spent in Egypt." Roddy listened to his description of the dinner-party. Then he said: "Poor Lord Farncombe! I'm sorry he had to sell the place. He is a real good type of the British nobility. It seems nothing short of vandalism that the historic houses of our peers should pass into the hands of the magnates of commerce." "I quite agree. Lord Farncombe has gone to America, I believe. They say he was broken-hearted at being compelled to sell the house which his ancestors had held for five centuries." "Mr Sandys' daughter is a very charming girl," Roddy said. "Very. She acts as hostess for her father. Mrs Sandys died some years ago, I understand," replied the doctor. "Sandys is spending an enormous sum in improving the Towers, putting in a new electrical plant and building a new range of glass-houses. Halton, the builder, was telling me of it." But Roddy's thoughts were afar. He was thinking of the _chic_, dainty little girl at whose side he had walked down to Haslemere, little dreaming that she was the daughter of the man who had purchased the whole Farncombe estates, including the living which his father held. That night, after church, he decided to stroll down through the village and out to the house of an old retired colonel, who was a friend of his father. The new moon was shining, but the sky was growing dull and overcast. He had lingered until all the congregation had passed out of the old churchyard, and following them down the hill, he turned to the left at the Market Cross, where he overtook a small, fur-clad female figure, whom he at once recognised by the light of the moon, which had reappeared from a bank of cloud, as that of Elma Sandys. She, too, recognised him as he raised his hat and joined her. "We are hardly strangers, Mr Homfray," she exclaimed in her sweet musical voice. "Since we met the other day I learned who you are." "May I walk with you?" he asked, laughing. "You are going home, I suppose, and it's lonely beyond the bridge." "You're really awfully kind," she said. "I've just been taking some chicken broth the cook made for a poor old lady named Bamford. Do you know her?" "Oh, yes, poor old Betty Bamford! She's been bedridden for years, poor old woman," replied Roddy. "My mother used to go and see her. It certainly is good of you to look after her. Lady Farncombe also used to be very kind to her, I've heard my father say." And as they sauntered slowly along over the ancient moss-grown bridge and down the road where the bare trees met overhead, they chatted on merrily as young people will chat. Roddy Homfray found her a delightful companion. He had on their first meeting believed her to be a visitor in the locality, for many people came from London to Little Farncombe on account of its picturesque surroundings, and its fine views across to the Hog's Back and over in the direction of Petersfield. But he had been disappointed to find that she was the only daughter of Purcell Sandys, the millionaire purchaser of the Farncombe estates. From the moment her father had entered possession of the Towers, the magnificent Tudor mansion which had been the home of the Farncombes, Elma had interested herself in the welfare of the village and had, with the assistance of two lady residents, sought out the poor. Her father, unlike most financiers, was a straightforward, upright, honest man who believed in giving charity in secret where it was needed. In this Elma assisted him, hence the new owner had already become popular in the neighbourhood, though, naturally, great sympathy was felt on all sides for the old earl who had been compelled to part with his estates. As Roddy walked at Elma's side down the dark, lonely road, the girl suddenly said: "It's really awfully good of you to come with me all this way, Mr Homfray. I expected to be home earlier, but the poor old lady was alone and begged me to stay a little longer. I was surprised when I saw how dark it had grown." "I assure you that it is a pleasure," he declared briefly. There was regret in his heart that she was what she was. From the very first moment they had met, when little Tweedles had bristled his black hair and barked at him, he had fallen in love with her. Thoughts of her obsessed him, and her face rose ever before him. But as they walked together he knew that the difference in their stations would ever be a barrier between them. He was poor and could never aspire to her hand. "I hear you have just returned from abroad," she remarked. "Yes. I sailed from Buenos Ayres six weeks ago," he replied. "I'm a mining engineer, and we've been prospecting in the Andes." "And were you successful?" "Fortunately, yes. But I expect to go away again very soon--that is, if I can obtain what I want, namely, a concession from the Moorish Government to prospect for emeralds beyond the Atlas Mountains. According to records left by the ancients there is a rich deposit of emeralds in the Wad Sus district, and I am hoping to be able to discover it." "How exciting! Fancy discovering emeralds?" Roddy laughed, and replied: "The probability is that I shall fail. But if I get the concession I shall do my best." "I certainly wish you every good luck," the girl said. "It must be awfully exciting to go prospecting. I suppose you meet with all sorts of adventures?" "Oh! We have curious experiences sometimes," he said lightly, and then he went on to describe a very narrow escape from drowning he had had once while at work on the bank of the Amazon. On her part, she told him she was delighted with Farncombe. "I'm tired of the rush of life in London," she said. "My father is compelled to entertain a great deal at Park Lane, and I have to be hostess. But it is so very pleasant to live here in the country and have one's friends down from town. We had a big house-party last week and had a ripping time. We shall have a shooting-party next week, and another the week after." Roddy was silent for a few moments, for they were already in the avenue and in sight of the lights of the great mansion. "I had better leave you here, Miss Sandys," he said, with undisguised regret. "And if you are to be so busy I fear I shall not have the pleasure of meeting you again before I go." Then as he raised his hat, she replied cheerily: "Perhaps we may meet again very soon. Who knows? Thanks ever so much, Mr Homfray. It was very good of you to come all this way. Good-night?" And she turned and left him. CHAPTER TWO. THE RECTOR'S SECRET VISITOR. While Roddy Homfray had been strolling at Elma's side, his father had still sat, gloomy and thoughtful, in the firelight at the Rectory. The light evening meal which the rector always took on Sunday evening had been placed upon the table by old Mrs Bentley, who, after lighting the gas, had retired to her part of the rambling house. But the food had remained untouched. The rector had sat nearly half an hour in the silence of the long, old room with its low-pitched ceiling and black oak beams. Deep in his arm-chair he did not stir, his bearded chin resting upon his thin hands, his brows knit in reflection. He was thinking--thinking, as ghosts of the past arose before him, visions of scenes which in vain he had always tried to put from him, and to blot out from his memory. The silence of the room was broken only by the crackling of the big logs and the slow tick of the grandfather clock in the corner by the door, till suddenly the church clock chimed the hour of nine across the hills. Then, scarcely had it ceased when there was the noise of a door handle being slowly turned, and next moment the heavy green curtains before the French window were drawn aside and a dark-haired, rather handsome woman of forty, wearing a close-fitting hat and a coney seal coat with skunk collar, stepped into the room. Old Mr Homfray, startled at the sound, turned in his chair, and then springing to his feet faced her. "_You_!" he gasped. "Why do you dare to come here? What do you want?" he asked angrily. "To speak privately with you," was her hard reply. "I didn't want others to know of my visit, and thinking the window might possibly be unlatched, I tried it, and came in this way." "Then go out the same way!" commanded the old clergyman angrily. "How dare you come here?" "Because I want to say something to you." "I don't wish to--and won't hear it!" "You shall, Mr Homfray!" replied the woman, whose face was full of evil, her eyes glittering like those of a serpent. "I come to-night as messenger from a man you know--from Gordon Gray." "From Gordon Gray--_you_?" gasped the rector in surprise. "Why should he send you to me?" "Because he thought it best not to come himself." "If he wishes to speak to me let him face me here," Mr Homfray said boldly. "Ah?" laughed the woman as though in triumph. "I seem to be an unwelcome visitor." "How could you be otherwise, after what has passed?" queried the old fellow. "Well, don't let us have any more bickering. Let's come to business. Mr Gray wants to know whether you intend paying?" "Not a penny--until the money is due next August." "But it was due last August," the woman declared. "That is quite untrue," replied the rector very quietly. "Well, the date is on the deed." "If it is, then the date has been altered." "But you have a copy." "No. I can't find it. I must have mislaid it. Is there no stamp, with date?" "It was never stamped. Mr Gray's solicitors have already written to you three times about it, and you have not replied." "I have been away, taking duty in Switzerland. Besides, I understood that Gordon Gray died in New York last year, and--" "And you thought that by that fact you would escape your indebtedness-- eh?" laughed the woman as she stood beside the table, an erect smart figure which was well known in certain disreputable night-clubs in the West End. "But Gordon Gray attended service in your church to-night, and you must have seen him in the flesh." "I did," replied the old man hoarsely. "Sight of him recalled many events of the past." "Things that you wish to forget--eh, Mr Homfray?" she said in a hard voice. "But Gordon wants his money. If you allege fraud on the part of his solicitors you had better write to them." "Why does Gray send you here? You, of all women! What does he intend to do?" asked the grave old man. "To sell the property if you can't pay him. He has already given you several months' grace. And besides, you've never answered any letters, nor have you paid any interest on the loan." "Because the money is not yet due," declared the Rector of Little Farncombe. "If you knew the facts you would never make this illegal demand." "I know all the facts. Gordon means to sell the property if you cannot pay at once." Norton Homfray bit his lip. Only during the past two years had he suspected his whilom friend Gordon Gray, and that suspicion had that night been confirmed by the presence there of that vampire woman, Freda Crisp, whose dark, handsome face he had hoped never to look upon again. Gray, the son of a rich City merchant, had long been the black sheep of his family, and had, when at Oxford, been sent down from Balliol for forging a cheque to a tailor in the Broad. A few years later Homfray, who had recently taken Holy Orders, met him and, ignorant of his past, had become his bosom friend. After six years Gordon went to America, and not until fifteen years afterwards did the pair see each other, when one day they found themselves staying at the Bath Hotel in Bournemouth and resumed their close friendship. Now old Mr Homfray was at that moment in serious difficulties, partly owing to his business instinct and his innocent generosity and trustfulness. He was a real upright and pious man who, unlike many parsons, practised what he preached. He had, in fact, stood security for an old college chum who had died suddenly from pneumonia and "let him in." He had been compelled to confess to Gray that he was ruined, whereupon his old friend had at once told him not to worry, and offered to lend him the sum upon his little piece of house property in the steep main street of Totnes, in Devon, from which he derived his slender income, the stipend at Little Farncombe being hardly sufficient to pay the housekeeper and the gardener at the Rectory. But by the sudden appearance of the woman and her demands he realised that there was some sinister design afoot. That woman who stood before him he had strong cause to hate, yet hatred never entered his soul--even at that moment. He now realised with blank amazement that her friend Gordon Gray, the man returned from the grave, was trying to swindle him, and that the date of the deed--the copy of which he had mislaid--had been altered and pre-dated a year. "If your friend Gray dares to sell my little property--all I have--then I shall institute criminal proceedings against him," he told the woman frankly, whereupon his unwelcome visitor opened her little brown leather handbag and from it produced a crumpled envelope, out of which she took three tattered newspaper cuttings, saying coldly: "Perhaps you had better read these before you utter threats," and she handed them to him. He held his breath, and the light died from his thin countenance. He pushed them aside with trembling hands. "You know to what they refer, Mr Homfray--to your appearance under another name!" sneered Freda Crisp. "You are the highly respected rector of this picturesque, though obscure, little parish, but if your parishioners knew the truth I fancy that they and your bishop would have something to say about it. Is it just to the public that a man such as yourself should dare to wear a surplice and have the audacity to preach sermons?" The Rector of Little Farncombe remained silent. His face was deathly white, his hands trembled, and his eyes were staring. He had suspected that the one great secret of his life was known. But it appeared that not only was it known to the unscrupulous man who had once been his friend, but also to the woman before him, who was his bitterest enemy! "So the pair of you have learnt my secret!" he said in a low, hard voice. "And I suppose you intend to blackmail me--eh?" The dark-haired woman laughed. "Gordon only wants his money back, that's all." "And you have forced him to take up this hostile attitude," he said. "You are my enemy. I know it. Well, what do you intend to do?" "It isn't my affair," she declared. "Gray now knows that the money you borrowed from him was in order to help your fellow-criminal--a man who once did him an evil turn--after he had served his sentence. He wants his money back, and he is going to take it. The property will be up for auction in a week or so." "But I won't be swindled in this way!" cried old Mr Homfray. "Act just as you wish--but remember, if you make any move it will be the worse for you. Gordon is not a man to stick at trifles," the woman said. "I know that," said the rector. "And it is a very ugly skeleton you have in your cupboard," remarked the woman with a sinister smile. "The property at Totnes is worth over four thousand pounds," he said. "You have only to repay the money with interest and the matter is ended." Mr Homfray paused. Then, looking straight into the woman's evil face, he said: "It is you, woman, who once swore to ruin me because I would not assist you in that vile plot of yours! You thought to trap me, a minister of the Church, into assisting you to entice that fly into the web you had so cunningly spun for him. But you were mistaken! I saw through your evil game, and because I did so you vowed vengeance upon me. And this is the hour of your triumph!" he added bitterly in a deep, hoarse voice, and one quite unusual to him. The woman's thin lips were pressed together, but she made no immediate reply. At last she said: "I am only here on Mr Gray's behalf." "But it is you who have goaded him to do this--to take this action, well knowing that at the moment I cannot pay." "That surely is not my affair," snapped the woman, while old Mr Homfray stood aghast at the sudden blow which had fallen to crush him. What would his son Roddy think if he learnt the truth concerning that closed chapter of his father's past? What would the parish of Little Farncombe say if they knew that their respected rector had fallen among thieves? "Won't Gray come here himself and talk over the matter?" he asked presently. "No. He motored back to London as soon as the service was over. He had a fancy to see you and hear you preach to your dear parishioners, who, in all their innocence, believe in you, Mr Homfray," and again the woman laughed sardonically. "So he sent me to see you in private, and to tell you his intentions." "Are you quite certain he will not come and see me?" "I urged him to do so, but he refused," said the woman. "Because he fears to face me!" exclaimed the rector. "He fears lest I, on my part, should speak the truth. I trusted Gordon Gray--trusted him as my friend--but I have been sadly disillusioned to-night, for I have found that he is my enemy, and I am now forearmed." "That is no concern of mine whatever. I have given you his message." The Rector of Little Farncombe looked straight into her face with his calm grey eyes behind his shaggy brows. "Then I will send a message back to him," he slowly replied. "As he refuses to come here and deliver his ultimatum in person, I will, in return, deliver my ultimatum to him. Go back and tell him that I defy him. Tell him that if either he or you lift a finger against me, then the truth concerning the death of young Hugh Willard will be known to Scotland Yard, and the affair of Hyde Park Square will be cleared up by the arrest of the assassin. Tell him that though he thinks there was no witness, yet one still exists--one who will come forward with indisputable proof. You know his name. Gordon Gray and I were friends until to-night. But we are no longer so. We are enemies. And you know to much of the affair as I do?" The woman staggered as though he had dealt her a blow. Her evil face went ashen in an instant, and her dark eyes started from her head. "What--what do you mean?" she gasped. "What I have said! You heard my message to Gordon Gray; go and deliver it. Remember that if either of you molest me, or attempt to swindle me as you are now doing, then I shall reveal all that I know. My silence depends upon you both. So begone!" he added calmly, with firm resolve. For a few moments the woman in furs stood motionless and silent. "You will regret those words, Mr Homfray!" she said at last, threateningly. "I will deliver your message, but you will regret it. Remember that!" "I assure you I have no fear," laughed the old rector. "While Gordon Gray acted honestly as the friend I believed him to be, I remained his friend. Now that we are enemies it is I who can--and will--speak in self-defence. He threatens me with ruin, but little does he dream what I know concerning the young fellow's death and who was implicated in it--how the snare was set to ruin him, and afterwards to close his lips!" The handsome woman shrugged her shoulders, but her face had entirely changed. She had been taken entirely aback by the open defiance of the man who, in her fierce vindictiveness, she had intended should be her victim. She had believed the hour of her triumph to be at hand, instead of which she saw that an abyss had opened before her--one into which she and her accomplice Gray must assuredly fall unless they trod a very narrow and intricate path. "Very well," she laughed with well-feigned defiance. "I will give Gordon your message. And we shall see!" With those words she passed to the heavy plush curtains and disappeared behind them out upon the lawn, beyond which, separated only by a wire fence, lay a small and picturesque wood which ran down the hill for a quarter of a mile or so. Old Mr Homfray followed her, and with a sigh, closed the long glass door and bolted it. Then, returning to the fireplace, he stood upon the hearthrug with folded arms, thinking deeply, faintly murmured words escaping his pale lips. "Roddy must never know!" he repeated. "If he knew the truth concerning that slip in my past what would he think of me? He would regard his father as a liar and a hypocrite!" Again he remained silent for a considerable time. "Gordon Gray!" he muttered. "It seems impossible that he should rise from the grave and become my enemy, after all I have done in his interests. I believed him to be my friend! But he is under the influence of that woman--that woman who means to ruin me because I refused to render her assistance in that vile scheme of hers!" Suddenly, as he stood there before the blazing logs, he recollected the sixth chapter of St Luke. "Love your enemies," he repeated aloud. "Do good to those who hate you. And unto him that smiteth you on the one cheek, offer also the other." And there before the big arm-chair the fine old fellow sank upon his knees and prayed silently for his enemy and his female accomplice. Afterwards he rose, and re-seating himself in his chair sat with his eyes closed, recalling all the tragedy and villainy concerned with young Hugh Willard's mysterious death in London five years before--an enigma that the police had failed to solve. Meanwhile Roddy Homfray, having left Elma, was strolling slowly home full of thoughts of the slim and charming girl who had bewitched him, and yet whose station was so far above his own. Through the sharp frosty night he walked for some distance along the broad highway, until he came to the cross roads, where he stopped to gossip with the village chemist. Then, after ten minutes or so, he walked on, crossed a stile and took a short cut across a field and up the hill to the woods at the back of the Rectory. The night had now grown very dark, and as he entered the wood, he saw a figure skirting it. Whether man or woman he could not distinguish. He found the path more difficult than he expected, but he knew that way well, and by the aid of his pocket torch he was able to keep to the path, a rather crooked one, which led to the boundary of the Rectory lawn. Suddenly, as he passed, his footsteps rustling among the dead leaves, he thought he heard a curious sound, like a groan. He halted, quickly alert. Again the sound was repeated somewhere to his left--a low groan as though of someone in great pain. He stepped from the path, examining the ground with its many tree trunks by the aid of his torch. A third time the groan was repeated, but fainter than before, therefore he began to search in the direction whence the cry came, until, to his surprise, he discovered lying upon the ground at a short distance from the wire fence which divided the wood from the Rectory property, a female form in a neat navy-blue costume, with a small red hat lying a short distance away. She was in a crouching position, and as the young man shone his light upon her, she again drew a deep sigh and groaned faintly. "What is the matter?" he cried in alarm, dropping upon his knees and raising the fair head of a young and pretty girl. She tried to speak, but her white lips refused to utter a sound. At last, by dint of desperate effort, she whispered in piteous appeal: "Save me! Oh!--_save me--do_!" Then next second she drew a deep breath, a shiver ran through her body, and she fell inert into the young fellow's arms! CHAPTER THREE. WHICH CONTAINS ANOTHER MYSTERY. Roddy Homfray, with the aid of his flash-lamp, gazed in breathless eagerness, his strong jaw set, at the girl's blanched countenance. As he brushed back the soft hair from the brow, he noted how very beautiful she was. "Speak!" he urged eagerly. "Tell me what has happened?" But her heart seemed to have ceased beating; he could detect no sign of life. Was he speaking to the dead? So sudden had it all been that for some moments he did not realise the tragic truth. Then, in a flash, he became horrified. The girl's piteous appeal made it only too plain that in that dark wood she had been the victim of foul play. She had begged him to save her. From what? From whom? There had been a struggle, for he saw that the sleeve of her coat had been torn from the shoulder, and her hat lying near was also evidence that she had been attacked, probably suddenly, and before she had been aware of danger. The trees were numerous at that spot, and behind any of their great, lichen-covered trunks a man could easily hide. But who was she? What was she doing in Welling Wood, just off the beaten path, at that hour? Again he stroked the hair from her brow and gazed upon her half-open but sightless eyes, as she lay heavy and inert in his arms. He listened intently in order to satisfy himself that she no longer breathed. There seemed no sign of respiration and the muscles of her face and hands seemed to have become rigid. In astonishment and horror the young man rose to his feet, and placing his flash-lamp, still switched on, upon the ground, started off by a short cut to the Rectory by a path which he knew even in the darkness. He was eager to raise the alarm regarding the unexpected discovery, and every moment of delay might mean the escape of whoever was responsible for the crime. The village police inspector lived not far from the Rectory, and it was his intention first to inform his father, and then run on to the police. But this intention was never carried out, because of a strange and bewildering circumstance. Indeed, till long past midnight the Reverend Norton Homfray sat in his rather shabby little study reflecting upon the unwelcome visit of that woman Freda Crisp, and wondering what it portended. Her threatening attitude was the reverse of reassuring. Nevertheless, the rector felt that if Gray and his unscrupulous accomplice really meant mischief, then he, after all, held the trump card which he had so long hesitated to play. The clock ticked on. The time passed unnoticed, and at last he dozed. It was not until nearly three o'clock in the morning that he suddenly awakened to the lateness of the hour, and the curious fact that Roddy had not been in since he had left church. The old man rose, and ascending to his son's room, believing that Roddy might have come in and retired while he slept, found to his surprise that the bed had not been occupied. He walked round the house with the aid of his electric torch. The front door was still unlocked, and it was quite evident that his son had not yet returned. "This is a night of strange incidents!" he said aloud to himself as he stood upon the staircase. "First that man Gordon Gray rises as though from the tomb, then Freda Crisp visits me, and now Roddy is missing! Strange indeed--very strange!" He returned to his study, and lighting his green-shaded reading-lamp upon the writing-table, sat down to attend to some letters. He was too wakeful now to retire to rest. Besides, Roddy was out, and he had decided to remain up until his son returned. Why Roddy should be out all night puzzled the old man greatly. His only intimate friend was the village doctor, Hubert Denton, and perhaps the doctor being called to a patient early in the evening Roddy had gone out in the car with him. Such seemed the only explanation of his absence. "That woman!" remarked the old rector angrily, as he took some writing paper from a drawer. "That woman intends mischief! If she or Gray attempts to harm me--then I will retaliate!" And he drew a long breath, his dark, deep-set eyes being fixed straight before him. "Yet, after all, ought I to do so?" he went on at length. "I have sinned, and I have repented. I am no better than any other man, though I strive to do right and to live up to the teaching of the Prince of Peace. `Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you.' Ah! it is so hard to carry out that principle of forgiveness--so very hard!" And again he lapsed into silence. "What if Roddy knew--what if those fiends told him? Ah! what would he think of the other side of his father's life? No!" he cried again in anguish some minutes later, his voice sounding weirdly in the old-world little room. "No! I could not bear it! I--I would rather die than my son should know!" Presently, however, he became calmer. As rector of Little Farncombe he was beloved by all, for few men, even ministers of religion, were so upright and pious or set such an example to their fellow-men. Old Mr Purcell Sandys had been to church on two successive Sunday mornings, and had acknowledged himself greatly impressed by Mr Homfray's sermons. "They're not chanted cant, such as we have in so many churches and which does so much harm to our modern religion," he had told his daughter as they had walked back to the Towers. "But they are straight, manly talks which do one real good, and point out one's faults." "Yes, father," Elma agreed. "The whole village speaks exceedingly well of Mr Homfray." And so it was that the man seated writing his letters in the middle of the night and awaiting the home-coming of his son, had gained the high esteem of the new owner of Farncombe even before he had made his first ceremonial call upon the great City magnate. That night, however, a cloud had suddenly arisen and enveloped him. As he wrote on, the old rector could not put from him a distinct presage of evil. Where was Roddy? What could have happened that he had not returned as usual to supper after church? The boy was a roamer and an adventurer. His profession made him that, but when at home he always kept regular hours as became a dutiful son. The bitter east wind had grown stronger, causing the bare branches of the trees in the pleasant old garden to shake and creak, while in the chimney it moaned mournfully. At last the bell in the ivy-clad church tower chimed the hour of five. The wild winter night was past, and it was morning, though still dark. The old rector drew aside the blind, but the dawn was not yet showing. The fire was out, the lamp burned dim and was smoking, and the room was now cold and cheerless. "I wonder where Roddy can possibly be?" again murmured the old man. Then, still leaving the front door unlocked, he blew out the lamp and retired for a few hours' rest. At noon Roderick Homfray had not returned, and after sending a message to Doctor Denton and receiving word that he had not seen the young man since the previous morning, Mr Homfray began to be seriously alarmed. He went about the village that afternoon making inquiries, but nobody seemed to have seen him after he had passed through the churchyard after the evening service. Only Mr Hughes, who kept a small tobacconist's at the further end of the village, apparently had any information to give. "I passed along the Guildford road about ten o'clock or so, and I believe I saw Mr Roddy talking to a man--who was a stranger. I noticed the man in church. He sat in one of the back pews," said old Mr Hughes. In an instant Norton Homfray became alert. Could Roddy have been speaking with Gordon Gray? "Are you quite sure it was my son?" he asked eagerly. "Well, it was rather dark, so I could not see the young man's face. But I'm sure that the other was the stranger." "Then you are not absolutely certain it was Roddy?" "No, Mr Homfray, I couldn't swear to it, though he looked very much like Mr Roddy," was the old tobacconist's reply. "My sight isn't what it used to be," he added. Still, the incident aroused suspicions in the rector's mind. Was it possible that Gray had told Roddy the truth, and the latter had gone off with his father's enemy? In any case, his son's absence was a complete mystery. That evening Mr Homfray called at the village police station and there saw the inspector of the Surrey County Constabulary, a big, burly man named Freeman, whom he knew well, and who frequently was an attendant at church. He, of course, told him nothing of the reappearance of Gordon Gray, but simply related the fact that Roddy had left the church on Sunday night, and with the exception of being seen in the Guildford road two hours later, had completely disappeared. "That's peculiar!" remarked the dark-bearded man in uniform. "But I dare say there's some explanation, sir. You'll no doubt get a wire or a letter in the morning." Then he added: "Mr Roddy is young, you know, sir. Perhaps there's a lady in the case! When a young man disappears we generally look for the lady--and usually we find her!" "Roddy has but few female friends," replied the old rector. "He is not the sort of lad to disappear and leave me in anxiety." "Well, sir, if you like, I'll phone into Guildford and circulate his description," Freeman said. "But personally I think that he'll come back before to-morrow." "Why?" "Well--I know Mr Roddy. And I agree that he would never cause you, his father, an instant's pain if he could help it. He's away by force of circumstances, depend upon it!" Force of circumstances! The inspector's words caused him to ponder. Were those circumstances his meeting with Gordon Gray for the first time that night? Roddy, he knew, had never met Gray. The man's very existence he had hidden from his son. And Roddy was abroad when, in those later years, the two men had met. The old rector of Little Farncombe felt bewildered. A crowd of difficulties had, of late, fallen upon him, as they more or less fall upon everybody in every walk of life at one time or another. We all of us have our "bad times," and Norton Homfray's was a case in point. Financial troubles had been succeeded by the rising of the ghosts of the past, and followed by the vanishing of his only son. Three eager, breathless, watchful days went by, but no word came from the fine well-set-up young man who had led such a daring and adventurous life in South America. More than ever was his father convinced that old Hughes was correct in his surmise. He had stood upon the pathway of the Guildford road--the old tar-macked highway which leads from London to Portsmouth--and had been approached by Gordon Gray, the man who meant to expose his father to the parishioners. The world of the Reverend Norton Homfray was, after all, a very little one. The world of each of us, whether we be politician or patriot, peer or plasterer, personage or pauper, has its own narrow confines. Our enemies are indeed well defined by the Yogi teaching as "little children at play." Think of them as such and you have the foundation of that great philosophy of the East which raises man from his ordinary level to that of superman--the man who wills and is obeyed. The fact that the son of the rector of Little Farncombe was missing had come to the knowledge of an alert newspaper correspondent in Guildford, and on the fourth day of Roddy's disappearance a paragraph appeared in several of the London papers announcing the fact. Though the story was happily unembroidered, it caused the rector great indignation. Why should the Press obtrude upon his anxiety? He became furious. As an old-fashioned minister of religion he had nothing in common with modern journalism. Indeed, he read little except his weekly _Guardian_, and politics did not interest him. His sphere was beyond the sordid scramble for political notoriety and the petticoat influence in high quarters. His son was missing, and up and down the country the fact was being blazoned forth by one of the news agencies! Next day brought him three letters from private inquiry agents offering their services in the tracing of "your son, Mr Roderick Homfray,"--with a scale of fees. He held his breath and tore up the letters viciously. Half an hour afterwards Inspector Freeman called. Mrs Bentley showed him into the study, whereupon the inspector, still standing, said: "Well, sir, I've got into trouble about your son. The Chief Constable has just rung me up asking why I had not reported that he was missing, as it's in the papers." The rector was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Freeman, but my anxiety is my own affair. If you will tell Captain Harwood that from me, I shall feel greatly obliged." "But how did it get into the papers, sir?" "That I don't know. Local gossip, I suppose. But why," asked the rector angrily, "why should these people trouble themselves over my private affairs? If my son is lost to me, then it is my own concern-- and mine alone!" he added with dignity. "I quite agree, sir," replied the inspector. "Of course, I have my duty to do and I am bound to obey orders. But I think with you that it is most disgraceful for any newspaper man to put facts forward all over the country which are yours alone--as father and son." "Then I hope you will explain to your Chief Constable, who, no doubt, as is his duty, has reproached you for lack of acumen. Tell him that I distinctly asked you to refrain from raising a hue and cry and circulating Roddy's description. When I wish it I will let the Chief Constable of Surrey know," he added. That message Inspector Freeman spoke into the ear of the Chief Constable in Guildford and thus cleared himself of responsibility. But by that time the whole of Little Farncombe had become agog at the knowledge that the rector's tall, good-looking son was being searched for by the police. Everyone knew him to be a wanderer and an adventurer who lived mostly abroad, and many asked each other why he was missing and what allegation there could possibly be against him--now that the police were in active search of any trace of him. CHAPTER FOUR. LOST DAYS. It was a bright, crisp afternoon on the seventh day of Roddy's disappearance. The light was fading, and already old Mrs Bentley had carried the lamp into Mr Homfray's study and lit it, prior to bringing him his simple cup of tea, for at tea-time he only drank a single cup, without either toast or bread-and-butter. He was about to raise his cup to his lips, having removed his old briar pipe and laid it in the ash-tray, when Mrs Bentley tapped and, re-entering, said: "There's Miss Sandys to see you, sir." The rector rose and, rather surprised, ordered his visitor to be shown in. Next moment from the square stone hall the pretty young girl, warmly clad in furs, entered the room. She met the eyes of the grey old man, and after a second's pause said: "I have to apologise for this intrusion, Mr Homfray, but--well, I have seen in the paper that your son is missing. He went out on Sunday night, it is said, and has not been seen since." "That is so, Miss Sandys," replied the old man, offering her a chair beside the fire. "As you may imagine, I am greatly concerned at his disappearance." "Naturally. But I have come here, Mr Homfray, to speak to you in confidence," said the girl hesitatingly. "Your son and I were acquainted, and--" "I was not aware of that, Miss Sandys," exclaimed the rector, interrupting her. "No. I do not expect that he told you. My father does not know either. But we met quite casually the other day, and last Sunday we again met accidentally after church and he walked home with me. I suppose it was half-past nine when we parted." "There was no reason why he should not return home, I suppose?" asked Mr Homfray eagerly. "None whatever. In wishing me good-bye he told me that he might be leaving here very soon, and perhaps we might not have another opportunity of meeting before he went. I thanked him for walking so far with me, and we parted the best of friends." "He said he would be leaving Little Farncombe very soon, did he?" remarked the rector thoughtfully. "Yes. I understood from him that he was obtaining, or had obtained, a concession to prospect for a deposit of emeralds somewhere in the Atlas Mountains, in Morocco." "That is true. Some ancient workings are known to exist somewhere in the wild Wad Sus region, and through a friend he has been in treaty with the Moorish Government, with the hope of obtaining the concession. If he found the mine which is mentioned by several old Arabic writers it would no doubt bring him great fortune." "Yes. But where can he be?" "Who knows, Miss Sandys!" exclaimed the distracted father blankly. "He must be found," declared the girl. "He left me to return home. What could possibly have occurred to prevent him from carrying out his intention?" What indeed, reflected the old man, except perhaps that he met Gordon Gray and perhaps left for London with him? He was now more than ever inclined to believe the rather vague story told by the village tobacconist. "Yes, Miss Sandys, he must be found. I have now asked the police to circulate his description, and if he is alive no doubt he will be discovered." "You surely don't suspect that something tragic has happened to him--for instance, that he has met with foul play?" cried the girl. "It certainly looks like it, or he would no doubt have set my mind at rest by this time," replied his father. By the girl's anxiety and agitation he saw that she was more than usually concerned regarding his son's whereabouts. He had had no idea that Roddy was acquainted with the daughter of the great financier who had purchased Lord Farncombe's estates. Yet, after all, he reflected, Roddy was a fine, handsome boy, therefore what more natural than the pair should become attracted by each other. He saw that the girl was uneasy, and was not surprised when she said: "I trust, Mr Homfray, that you will treat what I have told you in entire confidence. My father does not approve of my making chance acquaintances. I got into an awful row a little time ago about it. I know he would not object to my knowing your son if we had been properly introduced. But, you see, we were not!" she laughed. "I quite understand," said the old rector, smiling. "One day I hope you will be properly introduced to my son when we find him." "We must, Mr Homfray. And we will!" cried the pretty young girl determinedly. "Ah!" exclaimed the old man, his thin fingers clasped before him. "If we only could. Where can my boy be?" Elma Sandys rose a few moments later, and taking the old man's hand urged patience and courage, and then walked down the hill and back to the Towers full of grave reflections. She was the last person to see and speak with the alert, athletic young man who had so suddenly and strangely come into her life. At Park Lane she met many young men-about-town, most of them wealthy and all of them idlers, but no second thought had she given to a single one of them. As she walked she examined her own mind, and was compelled to admit that thoughts of Roddy Homfray now absorbed her. The mystery of his disappearance after bidding her farewell had gripped her, heart and soul. During the two days that followed the description of Roderick Homfray, the young mining engineer, was circulated to every police station in the country, and all constables in London and the great cities had had that description read out to them before going on duty. There was scarcely a police constable in the United Kingdom who did not know it by heart, with the final words of the official notice: "The missing man is greatly interested in wireless telephony, of which he has a deep and scientific knowledge." That sentence had been added by the Surrey County Constabulary in case the young man might be hiding from his friends, and might betray himself by his expert knowledge of radio science. Of the woman Freda Crisp, or of Gordon Gray, old Mr Homfray had heard nothing. The whole village sympathised with him in his distress, and, of course, all sorts of rumours--some of them cruel indeed--were afloat. Fortunately Elma's name was not coupled with Roddy's, for with the exception of the rector nobody knew of their acquaintance. Yet some ill-natured gossip, a low-bred woman at the end of the village, started a story connecting Roddy with a young married woman who had left her husband a fortnight before, gone to London, and disappeared. This cruel story was not long in reaching Elma's ears, and though she disbelieved it, nevertheless it naturally caused her both wonder and anger. On the afternoon of the third day after the circulation of the description of the missing young man, a stout, pleasant-faced lady named Boydon chanced to read it in the paper, and then sat staring before her in wonderment. Then, after a few moments, she rose, crossed the room, and rang the telephone. A few seconds later she was speaking with a Mr Edwards, and asked him to come along to see her upon an important matter, to which he at once consented. Now Miss Boydon was the matron of the Cottage Hospital at Pangbourne, a pretty Thames-side village well known to river folk as being one of the prettiest reaches in Berkshire, and Mr Edwards was the local police sergeant of the Berks. Constabulary, and lived at the other end of the long wide village street which led out upon the Reading road. Ten minutes later Edwards, a portly, rather red-faced man, arrived on his bicycle, and on entering the matron's room, his helmet in his hand, was shown the description. "By jove, miss?" he exclaimed. "I believe it's him! We've had the notice at the station, but I never connected him with it!" "Neither did I--until now," declared the stout Miss Boydon. "He only became conscious this morning--and now he tells us a rambling and altogether incoherent story. Personally I think he's slightly demented. That's what the doctor thought when he saw him at noon. He's waiting to see his condition to-night." "Well, the description is exactly like him," declared the sergeant, re-reading it. "When he was brought into the station the other night I took him to be intoxicated. Then when Doctor Maynard saw him, he ordered him here." "The doctor thinks he is suffering from drugs," said the matron. "He has been unconscious ever since he was brought here, nearly a week ago, and now he certainly has not regained his senses. He talks wildly about a girl who was murdered in a wood and died in his arms. Apparently he is suffering from delusions." "In any case, miss, I think I ought to telegraph to Guildford that a young man answering the description is here, don't you think so?" "I should not be in too great a hurry if I were you, Edwards," was the reply. "Wait until Doctor Maynard has seen him again. We shall probably know more to-night. I've ordered nurse to keep him quite quiet and listen to his stories as though she believes every word." "The young man is missing from a place called Little Farncombe, in Surrey," said the sergeant. "I wonder how he came to be lying on the tow-path at the foot of Whitchurch Bridge? He must have been there all night, for one of the men working on the Thames Conservancy dredger found him when on his way to work at six o'clock on Tuesday morning." "All clues to his identity have been removed," remarked the matron. "His name has been cut out of his shirt collar and underclothing, and the laundry marks removed--all deliberately done as if to efface his identity. Possibly he intended to commit suicide, and that's why he was on the river bank." "But the doctor, when he saw him at the police station, gave his opinion that the man was drugged," the police sergeant said. "I don't think he had any intention of suicide." "Well, in any case, let us wait till this evening. I will telephone to you after the doctor has seen him," the matron promised. And with that the sergeant left. At six o'clock Doctor Maynard, a quiet elderly man who had practised in Pangbourne and district for fifteen years, called again and saw Roddy lying in the narrow little bed. His face was pale and drawn, and his eyes sunken and weary: "Well, doctor," he exclaimed cheerily, "I feel a lot better than I did this morning. I'm able to think now--and to remember. But oh!--my head!" "That's good," declared the white-haired medical man. "Now what is your name, and how did you come here?" he asked, the stout matron standing, watchful, beside him. "My name is Roderick Homfray, and I'm the son of the Reverend Norton Homfray, rector of Little Farncombe, in Surrey," the patient replied frankly. "What brought me here I don't know. What day is it to-day?" "The fourteenth of December." "The fourteenth of December! Well, the last I remember is on the night of the third--a Sunday night. And I shan't forget it either, I assure you! I was on my way home soon after half-past nine at night, and in Welling Wood, close by the Rectory paddock, I found a girl lying on the ground. She could just speak. She appealed to me to save her. Then she died. I rose and dashed across the wood to my father's house to raise the alarm, but I had hardly gone a hundred yards when straight in front of me something exploded. I saw what seemed to be a ball of red fire, but after that I know nothing--nothing until I came to my senses this morning and found myself here! Where I've been in the meantime, doctor, I have no idea." Doctor Maynard, still under the impression that the story of the murdered girl was a delusion, sympathised with the patient and suggested sleep. "I'll come to see you to-morrow," he added. "You're quite all right, so don't worry. I will see that a telegram is sent to-night to your father. He'll be here to-morrow, no doubt." At ten o'clock the following morning the rector stood at the bedside of his son and listened to the amazing story of the discovery in Welling Wood and the red ball of fire which Roddy subsequently saw before him. "Perhaps I was struck by lightning!" Roddy added. "But if that were so I should surely have remained in the wood. No doubt I was struck down maliciously. But why? And why should I have been taken away unconscious and kept so for several days, and then conveyed to the river bank here at Whitchurch?" "I don't know, my son," replied his father quietly, though he stood staggered at the amazing story. Then he added: "The police searched Welling Wood and all the neighbouring copses three days after you had disappeared, but found no trace of you." "But surely they found the poor girl, father?" cried Roddy, raising himself upon his arm. "No, my boy, nobody was found," he replied. "That's strange!" exclaimed the young man. "Then she must have been taken away with me! But by whom? What devil's work was there in progress that night, father?" "Ah! my boy. That I cannot tell!" "But I mean to ascertain!" cried the young man fiercely. "That girl appealed to me to save her, and she died in my arms. Where is she? And why should I be attacked and drugged so that I nearly became insane? Why? Perhaps it was because I had accidentally discovered the crime!" CHAPTER FIVE. THROUGH THE ETHER. "Hush! You infernal idiot! What did I tell you? What the deuce are you doing?" cried the man, tearing the telephone from the woman's hand and throwing over a switch upon the roll-top desk at which she was seated. The low hum of an electric generator ceased and the current was cut off. "You fool!" cried the short, middle-aged, clean-shaven man in a dinner-jacket, and with a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth. "Will you never learn common sense, Freda, after all I've told you! It's fortunate I came in at this moment! Do you want to be jugged? It seems so!" Freda Crisp, in a gorgeous Paquin evening gown, turned deliberately in her chair and, coldly surveying the man who had just entered, said: "Well, my dear Gordon, and what's upset your digestion to-night? Things said over this wireless telephone--broadcasted over five hundred miles of space from your cosy rooms here--can be said without anybody being the wiser as to who uttered them. I look upon this wireless box of tricks as a priceless joke. You turn over a switch, and into thousands of ears you speak all over the kingdom, and across into Holland and France and even Scandinavia. The great Marconi is, you'll admit, dear old thing, a wonderful nut!" "Bah! You're not serious, Freda! You laugh at perils. And a peril now faces us." "Ah! My dear Gordon, this is the first time I've ever heard such an admission from you--you, of all men! Peril? It's in the dictionary, but not in your vocabulary--or mine, my dear boy. I've faced danger, and so have you--nasty troublous moments with detectives hanging around--but we've generally been able to wriggle out by the back door, or the window, or--" "Or else bluff it out, Freda!" interrupted Gray. "Yes, you're right! But to deliberately ask after the health of Roderick Homfray over the wireless telephone--well, it's simply courting trouble." "Why?" "Well, don't you know that there's an apparatus invented by two clever Italians, Bellini and Tosi, which is called a direction-finder?" asked her rather good-looking companion, as he removed his cigar from his lips. "That apparatus is in use all over the country. That's how they find aircraft lost in fogs--and that's how they could find to a yard exactly the position of this secret set of ours from which you spoke those silly jeering words. Gad! you're a fool, Freda! Shut up--and don't meddle with this wireless transmitter in future! Remember, I've got no official licence. This room,"--and he swept his hand around the small apartment filled with a marvellous collection of wireless apparatus--"is our secret. If the authorities discovered it--well, it would, no doubt, be the end for both of us--the Old Bailey and--well, just jug for both of us. I know something about wireless, and as you know it bears us in good stead. We've profited thousands on the stunt-- you and I, Freda--and--" "And Roderick Homfray also knows something about wireless, my dear old thing," laughed the handsome woman, lazily taking a cigarette from her gold case, tapping it and lighting it. "That's just it! You're a priceless fool to have taken such a risk as to speak broadcast as you did. What did you say?" "I only asked how 3.X.Q. Roddy Homfray of Little Farncombe was getting on, and gave my name as Freda!" "Fool!" yelled Gordon Gray in fury. "It may be reported to the old sky-pilot! Young Homfray is in oblivion. We know that he's been picked up off the Thames towing-path, damp and unconscious, but in all probability he'll never recover from the dope we gave him. We sincerely hope not, eh? I expected he'd die in the night." The handsome woman hesitated. "No, Gordon, we hope he will recover. If he doesn't, then it's murder once again; and, after all, that's an infernally ugly word. It would mean more than jug!" The short, rather stout, beady-eyed man, the huge cigar still in his mouth, made a gesture of impatience, and crossing to the big roll-top writing-table, upon which was a high-power transmission set of wireless telephone capable of projecting the human voice clearly to any point in the British Isles, he turned over another switch and placed the telephones over his ears. As he did so he turned an ebonite knob with a brass pointer upon a semicircular scale of ivory--one of many before him--just a sixteenth of an inch. He touched it with infinite care. "Just listen, Freda," he said, in a hard voice. "Now just listen here, how by your accursed foolishness you've brought danger upon us. Listen, you madwoman?" The woman took up the second pair of head-'phones, twisted the steel band and, instead of placing the 'phones over her head, put the ear pieces to her ears with the arched band towards her face--a favourite attitude with women who listen to wireless telephony. As the delicate receivers came to her ears she drew a long breath, the colour dying from her face. The little room wherein the fine expensive experimental set was installed was on the ground floor of a good-sized, old-fashioned house called "Willowden," which stood behind a broad lawn just off the Great North Road between Hatfield and Welwyn, twenty-five miles from London, a distance which was as nothing to Gordon Gray with his up-to-date Rolls. From the Automobile Club in Pall Mall he could easily reach home in half an hour, even though the traffic through North London was usually bad. That night he had taken Freda to the theatre, and they had had supper at Ciro's afterwards, and it was now only one o'clock in the morning. "Listen, old thing?" she urged, as she again adjusted the telephones on her ears. "What's that?" Gordon Gray listened attentively. A deep harsh voice was heard--a Voice from Nowhere--which asked slowly and very distinctly: "Who was that who is interested in 3.X.Q.? This is 3.A.X. at Carlisle calling. Who are you, Freda? Please tell me who you are! Roddy Homfray, 3.X.Q., is well, but I fear he may not be listening. Can I relay any message, Freda?" asked the voice. "Curse you!" cried the man. "You've actually given your name broadcast over the whole country! What the devil do you mean?" he cried, glaring at her. "All wireless amateurs know 3.X.Q. as old Homfray's son. They will inquire after Freda, and then old Homfray will know! Gad! You've made an unholy mess of things now! Put those 'phones down and be quiet!" he added. Then, as she disentangled the head-'phones from her hair, he pulled over the transmitting switch, and as the generator began to gather speed until it hummed pleasantly and the two big globular valves being aglow, he said, in a forced, unnatural voice: "Hulloa, 3.A.X.? Hulloa, Carlisle. Hulloa, 3.A.X. 3.A.X.? This is 3.B.T. at Birmingham calling. I heard your message about 3.X.Q. at Little Farncombe and about Freda. It wasn't Freda--a woman--but Freeman--Freeman. Do you hear? I heard it as Freeman. I heard 3.X.Q. speaking an hour ago. He said he could not transmit to-night, but will do so to-morrow night at 20:00 o'clock G.M.T. Have you got that, 3.A.X.? 3.B.T. changing over!" And he flung back the switch so that in a few seconds the generator was silent, and all became quiet save for the ticking of the round-faced yacht's clock which bore in large capitals G.M.T.--meaning Greenwich Mean Time. Both took up the receiving 'phones and listened. A few moments later there sounded the peculiar whistle of a wireless carrier wave, and next second the same deep voice called in the jargon of wireless: "Hulloa, 3.B.T.? Hulloa, Birmingham? Hulloa, 3.B.T. This is 3.A.X. at Carlisle calling. I heard your message O.K. I understand that it was Freeman--not Freda. I thought it was a lady inquiring after our friend 3.X.Q. Many thanks. I will listen for 3.X.Q.'s transmission to-morrow night. Sorry I worried you about Freda. Thanks, 3.B.T. Thanks, O.M. 3.A.X. switching off!" The O.M. stood for "old man," a familiar greeting between wireless experimenters unknown to each other, and who only meet through the ether. "I hope nobody has put a direction-finder upon me!" said Gray a moment later. "Really you are very slick, Gordon," laughed the handsome woman. "That change-over to Freeman is excellent! But as you said you were an amateur in Birmingham, and here we are at Crane Hill, you are quite right in fearing that somebody might spot us." "Ah! I replied quickly, and gave them no time, you see," laughed the elusive crook, for such he was. His accomplice laughed merrily. They were a refined, good-looking pair. Freda passed herself off to most people as Gray's sister. The good people of Hatfield knew the tenants of the old-fashioned house as Mr Gray and his widowed sister, Mrs Crisp. The latter--a smart, go-ahead woman--often drove her own little aluminium-bodied A.C. car up to London and back. Indeed, brother and sister lived mostly in London where they had a flat in Kensington, but the week-ends they usually spent at Willowden, where Gray's old servant, Claribut, and his wife ran the house together. Indeed Gray, a moment later, touched the bell, and old Claribut--a very respectable-looking, white-haired man--appeared. Surely none who called there would suspect such an outwardly perfect servant to be a crook like his master. "Jim, we're going back to town to-night," Gray said. "If anybody calls I'm in Paris. But I don't expect that anyone will. Tell that to your wife, and to-morrow go over to Pangbourne, stay at the Elephant Hotel there, and find out what is doing concerning young Homfray. He's at the Cottage Hospital there. You know all the facts." "All right!" replied the clean-shaven old butler, whose aristocratic appearance always bore him in such good stead. He often posed as a benevolent philanthropist, and could impose upon most people. His was a long criminal record at Parkhurst and Sing-Sing, and he was a man who, having spent nearly half his life in jail, had brought crookdom to a fine art, truly a worthy associate of Gordon Gray, alias Gordon Tresham, Ralph Fane, Major Hawes Jackson, Commander Tothill, R.N., and a dozen other names which had risen and faded upon the phosphorescence of his elusive life. Gordon Gray lived--and he lived well--at other people's expense. He had caught the habit of hanging on to the edge of the wealthy man's garment, and wealthy war-profiteers were, he found, so very easily gulled when they wanted to get on, and by political manoeuvring to make their wives titled "ladies." The fact was that Gordon Gray was a dealer in big things. Trumpery theft, burglary or suchlike offences, were beneath him. He could manipulate big deals in the City, could "arrange" a knighthood at a price, and sometimes, when he and Freda had suddenly arrived in London from New York, he would actually entertain English politicians with names of world-wide repute at elaborate dinners at the Ritz. Though a crook he was a philosopher, and his favourite remark when things went badly was: "Bah! it is no use blowing against the wind!" That night he felt himself blowing against the wind. Though he said nothing to the handsome woman at his side, he regretted that Roddy Homfray had not been placed in the river Thames as he had first suggested, instead of upon the bank opposite that beautiful riverside house with its glorious lawns and gardens at the other side of Whitchurch Bridge. If Roddy's unconscious form had been pitched over the bank it would have been found down at Mapledurham, and believed to be a case of suicide. He had been a fool, he declared within himself. He had hoped that the young man would be found dead in the morning. But he had not! "I'll go over to Pangbourne," said the elderly man he had addressed so familiarly as Jim. "And I'll report all I can gather. Anything else?" he asked, crossing to a box of cigars and helping himself without being invited. "No. Get back here. And tell your wife to keep the wireless securely locked up. There's a Yale lock on this door. Nobody comes in. You hear!" "Of course. It wouldn't do, Gordon, would it? That wireless is going to be a big use to us in the near future, eh?" laughed the white-haired old man. "It will be, if we're cute. But we shall have to have our eyes skinned. Have you paid all the tradesmen's books?" "Yes." "Then send to the chemist in Hatfield for a big bottle of eau-de-cologne--the biggest he's got. Pay a pound for it, or more, and say that I want it to put into my bath. It gives the guys here a shock and impresses them." "Good idea!" laughed Jim. "You're always brimming over with them. But look here, Gordon," he said, as he bit off the end of the cigar and started to light it. "First, I don't like this furnished house of ours, with the inquisitive landlady; and I don't like the wireless." "Why?" "Well, what I'm afraid of is, that though we've got the aerial wires well concealed from the roadway, some boy scout of an errand boy may come in and twig it, and tell some other boy scout that we've got an aerial up. See?" "Yes, I see," replied Gordon. "But the risk is small. If a boy discovers it, let the boy listen in, and tell him to keep dark about it. We're inventors, and we have discovered something regarding wireless telephony which will soon startle the whole world. The boy, whoever he is, will be startled and hold his tongue--till we decide how to deal with him. Oh! how simple you are, Jim! You're getting chicken-hearted in your old age!" And Freda, who was standing by, laughed outright. CHAPTER SIX. MISTS OF MEMORY. Three days after Roddy Homfray had regained consciousness Doctor Maynard, on visiting him, declared that though his mental condition was not yet quite satisfactory, he was well enough to travel home. Therefore he took him in his own two-seater car from the Cottage Hospital at Pangbourne, by way of Wokingham and Godalming to Little Farncombe, where the old rector welcomed back his son and secretly returned thanks to his Maker for his safety. The quiet old doctor only remained long enough to have a drink-- unprofessional, perhaps, but refreshing--for he had to get back to his patients. After he had gone, Roddy sat before the fire in the little study, his left hand upon his brow, for his head ached badly. It seemed that around his skull was a band of iron. Never for an instant since he had become conscious of things about him had that excruciating pain ceased. It was only when worn out by it that he slept, and thus became free. "Well, now, my boy, tell me exactly what occurred on that Sunday night," urged the old clergyman, standing before him and looking down at the crouched figure with eager curiosity. "I--well, I really don't know," was the young man's reply. "As I told you, in the darkness I found a girl just off the path in Welling Wood. She appealed to me to save her, and a few moments later she died in my arms. Then I rushed across here to raise the alarm, when, all of a sudden, I saw a bright red flash, and I knew no more till I awoke in the little hospital at Pangbourne." "But, my dear Roddy, the police searched the wood to find you--searched every inch of it--but there was no girl there. If she were dead she would surely have been found." "I was taken away unconscious. If so, what could have prevented the assassin and his friends--for there must have been more than one person--removing the evidence of their crime?" "Assassin!" gasped the old man, drawing a deep breath. Thoughts of Gordon Gray and the handsome Freda crossed his mind. But what hand could they have had in the death of an unknown girl in the woods at the rear of the Rectory? No. He decided that Roddy, in his unbalanced state of mind, was filled with wild imaginings. The description of the red ball of fire was sufficient in itself to show how disordered was his brain. The poor boy was suffering from hallucinations, he decided, so he humoured him and listened as he repeated his incredible story. "You would recognise the girl again, Roddy?" asked his father, puffing at his pipe. "Recognise her! Of course I should. I'd know her anywhere!" And once again he went into a long and detailed description of her face, her eyes, her hair, and her dress. The short December afternoon was drawing in and the light was fading. "I think, Roddy, that if I were you I'd go and lie down," said his father softly. "Your poor head worries you--I know, my dear boy." "It does. But I can think now--think quite clearly," was the young man's reply. "At the hospital the matron regarded me as a half-dazed idiot, I believe, and the nurse listened to me as she might listen to a baby's babbling. But I tell you, father, I'm now perfectly in my right mind. You may believe, or you may disbelieve my story, but Roddy, your son, has told you the truth, and he repeats every word he has said." For a few moments the rector was silent, his pipe still in his mouth and his hands in the pockets of the easy old black jacket he wore in the house. He was not a man who made any outward show, and, like most scholars, cared little for dress now that, alas! his wife, who had looked after him so tenderly, was dead. Old Norton Homfray was of simple tastes and few wants. His whole soul was in the welfare of his parish, and in consequence the parish held him up as a real fine old fellow. "Well, Roddy, what you've told me is, of course, most astounding--almost incredible. On that night you walked home with Miss Sandys--eh? She came here and told me so herself." "She came here! Elma here!" cried Roddy, quickly stirring himself from his chair and becoming alert. "What did she say?" "She heard that you were missing, and she came to tell me of her walk home to the Towers with you." "Yes. And--and what did she say about me?" the young man asked with quick eagerness. "Nothing. Only she seemed greatly surprised and upset," his father replied. "But--well--" And he hesitated. "Well--go on," the young man said. "Well, look here, Roddy, after leaving Miss Sandys, did you meet anyone else--a man in the Guildford road?" "A man? No. Why? Haven't I told you I walked straight home? What are you trying to make out?" "You are quite certain that you did not stop and speak with any stranger in the Guildford road?" "I am quite certain that I did not. I spoke to nobody till I found the girl dying in Welling Wood." "And--well, now let me at once be frank with you, Roddy: have you ever in your life heard the name of Gordon Gray?" "Never. Who is he?" "No matter. Recollect the name, and if you ever hear it, avoid him-- avoid him, my boy, as you would Satan himself. And his woman friend Freda Crisp." "Freda Crisp? Oh! I fancy I've met her--been introduced to her somewhere or other about a year ago. In South America, I believe, but I really can't remember. A fine handsome woman, who always dresses beautifully, and who is a topping dancer. Always has lots of men about her. Yes. I have a recollection of her, but I don't just now recall where we met. In travelling I meet so many people, dad, as you know." "Yes, of course, my boy; but if you ever meet her again, remember my words." "That Miss Sandys should come and see you, dad, is peculiar. Why did she come? What interest can she possibly have in me, except--well, perhaps it is the wireless. She told me she was very interested in it, and possibly she has heard that I'm an experimenter--eh?" "Probably so," laughed the old clergyman. "But hearing you were coming home to-day, she sent me a message to say that she is calling here at five." "Jolly good of her!" replied the young man, suddenly raising his head, which seemed to be bursting, "It's now nearly four. I think I'll go up and have a lie down till she comes," and so saying he ascended the stairs to his own room. Just before five o'clock Elma Sandys, a dainty figure in furs, was ushered into the study by Mrs Bentley, and was greeted by the rector, who, shaking her hand, said: "It's really awfully kind of you to come and see my poor son, Miss Sandys. Frankly, I hardly know what to make of him. His mind seems entirely upset in some way. He talks wildly, and tells me of some terrible tragedy which occurred in Welling Wood on the night of his disappearance." "Tragedy! What?" asked the girl quickly. "He will tell you all about it. The story is a very strange one. I would rather he told you himself." The girl sank into the wide wicker arm-chair which the old man pulled up to the fire, and then he left to summon his son. When Roddy entered the room Elma, jumping up, saw instantly that he seemed still half-dazed. She took his hand and instinctively realised that his gaze was fixed and strange. His friend Denton had seen him soon after his return, and declared him to foe suffering from some potent drug which had apparently affected him mentally. "Hulloa, Miss Sandys?" exclaimed the young man cheerily. "Well! I'm in a pretty pickle--as you see--eh? What's happened I can't make out. People seem to think I'm not quite in my right senses," and then, grinning, he added: "Perhaps I'm not--and perhaps I am." "But, Mr Homfray, I've been awfully worried about you," the girl said, facing him and gazing again into his pale drawn face. "You disappeared, and we had an awful shock, all of us. You left me at the end of the avenue and nobody saw you again!" "Well," said the young fellow, with a sorry attempt at laughing, "somebody must have seen me, no doubt, or I shouldn't have been found in this precious state. What happened to me I haven't the slightest notion. You see, I came up the village and went on through Welling Wood, and--well, as I went along I heard a strange cry, and in the darkness found a girl lying, under a tree. I went to her, and as I did so, she cried out to me to save her. The whole affair was unusual, wasn't it? I bent and took her up, and--the poor girl sank in my arms." "Sank? Did she die?" asked the great financier's daughter. "Yes, she did." The rector, who stood near his writing-table, exchanged glances with their pretty visitor. They were meaning glances. Old Mr Homfray was somewhat puzzled why the daughter of Purcell Sandys should be so deeply interested in his son. Yet, of course, young people will be ever young people, and deep pockets are of no account where Love is concerned. Love and Lucre have now happily been divorced in our post-war get ahead world. "But tell me, Mr Homfray, what was she like? Who could she be to be in Welling Wood at that hour?" "Ah! I don't know," was the young fellow's half-dazed reply. "I only know what happened to me, how I dashed away to reach home and raise the alarm, and suddenly saw what appeared to be a ball of fire before me. Then I knew no more till I found myself in hospital at Pangbourne. A man, they say, found me lying near the towing-path by the Thames. I was in the long grass--left there to die, Doctor Maynard believes." "But you must have been in somebody's hands for days," his father remarked. "Yes," said the young man, "I know. Though I can recollect nothing at all--distinctly. Some incidents seem to be coming back to me. I have just a faint idea of two persons--a man and a woman. They were well-dressed and lived in a big old house. And--and they made me do something. Ah! I--I can't recall it, only--only I know that the suggestion horrified me!" And he gave vent to a strange cry and his eyes glared with terror at the recollection. "Ah! the--the brutes--they forced me to--to do something--to--" "To do what?" asked the girl, taking his hand softly and looking into his pale, drawn face. "It is all a strange misty kind of recollection," he declared, staring stonily in front of him. "I can see them--yes! I can see both of them--the woman--she--yes!--she held my hand while--she guided my hand when I did it!" "Did what?" asked Elma in a slow, calm voice, as though trying to soothe him. "I--I--I can't recollect! Only--only he died!" "Died! Who died?" gasped the old rector, who at the mention of the man and the woman at once wondered again whether Gordon Gray and Freda Crisp were in any way implicated. "You surely did not commit--murder!" The young man seated in his chair sat for a few seconds, silent and staring. "Murder! I--yes, I saw him! I would recognise him. Murder, perhaps-- oh, perhaps I--I killed him! That woman made me do it!" The rector and the pretty daughter of Purcell Sandys exchanged glances. Roddy was no doubt still under the influence of some terrible, baneful drug. Was his mind wandering, or was there some grain of truth in those misty, horrifying recollections? "I'm thirsty," he said a moment later; "very thirsty." His father went out at once to obtain a glass of water, whereupon Elma, advancing closely to the young man, drew from her little bag a photograph. "Hush! Mr Homfray! Don't say a word. But look at this! Do you recognise it?" she whispered in breathless anxiety. He glanced at it as she held it before his bewildered eyes. "Why--yes!" he gasped, staring at her in blank amazement. "That's-- that's the girl I found in Welling Wood!" CHAPTER SEVEN. THE GIRL NAMED EDNA. "Hush!" cried Elma. "Say nothing at present." And next instant the old rector re-entered with a glass of water which his son drank with avidity. Then he sat staring straight into the fire without uttering a word. "Is your head better?" asked the girl a moment later; and she slipped the photograph back into her bag. "Yes, just a little better. But it still aches horribly," Roddy replied. "I'm anxious to get to that spot in the wood." "To-morrow," his father promised. "It's already dark now. And to-morrow you will be much better." "And I'll come with you," Miss Sandys volunteered. "The whole affair is certainly most mysterious." "Yes. Neither Denton nor the doctor at Pangbourne can make out the nature of the drug that was given to me. It seems to have upset the balance of my brain altogether. But I recollect that house--the man and the woman and--and how she compelled me to do her bidding to--" "To what?" asked the girl. The young mining engineer drew a long breath and shook his head despairingly. "I hardly know. Things seem to be going round. When I try to recall it I become bewildered." "Then don't try to remember," urged his father in a sympathetic voice. "Remain quiet, my boy, and you will be better to-morrow." The young fellow looked straight at the sweet-faced girl standing beside his chair. He longed to ask her how she became possessed of that photograph--to ask the dead girl's name. But she had imposed silence upon him. "We will go together to the spot to-morrow, Miss Sandys," he said. "People think I'm telling a fairy story about the girl. But I assure you I'm not. I held her in my arms and stroked her hair from her face. I remember every incident of that tragic discovery." "Very well," said the girl. "I'll be here at ten o'clock, and we will go together. Now remain quiet and rest," she urged with an air of solicitude. "Don't worry about anything--about anything whatever," she added with emphasis. "We shall clear up this mystery and bring your enemies to book without a doubt." And with that Roddy Homfray had to be satisfied, for a few moments later she buttoned up her warm fur coat and left, while old Mrs Bentley went upstairs and prepared his bed. His friend Denton called again after he had retired, and found him much better. "You're pulling round all right, Roddy," he laughed. "You'll be your old self again in a day or two. But what really happened to you seems a complete enigma. You evidently fell into very bad hands for they gave you a number of injections--as your arm shows. But what they administered I can't make out. They evidently gave you something which acted on your brain and muddled it, while at the same time you were capable of physical action, walking, and perhaps talking quite rationally." Then Roddy told his chum the doctor of the weird but misty recollections which from time to time arose within him of having been compelled to act as the handsome woman had directed. Exactly what he did he could not recall--except that he felt certain that while beneath the woman's influence he had committed some great and terrible crime. "Bah! my dear Roddy?" laughed Denton as he sat beside the other's bed. "Your nerves are all wrong and awry. After those mysterious doses you've had no wonder you're upset, and your imagination has grown so vivid." "I tell you it isn't imagination!" cried Roddy in quick protest. "I know that the whole thing sounds utterly improbable, but--well, perhaps to-morrow--perhaps to-morrow I can give you some proof." "Of what!" "Of the identity of the girl I found dying in Welling Wood." Hubert Denton smiled incredulously, and patting his friend upon the shoulder, said: "All right, my dear fellow. Go to sleep. A good rest will do you a lot of good. I'll see you in the morning." The doctor left and Roddy Homfray, tired and exhausted after an exciting day, dropped off to sleep--a sleep full of strange, fantastic dreams in which the sweet calm face of Elma Sandys appeared ever and anon. Next morning at about nine o'clock, when Roddy awakened to find the weather bright and crisp, he called his father, and said: "I don't want Inspector Freeman to know about what I've told you--about the girl in Welling Wood." "Certainly not," replied the quiet old rector reassuringly. "That is your own affair. They found nothing when they searched the wood for you." "Perhaps they didn't look in the right spot," remarked his son. "Elma will be here at ten, and we'll go together--alone--you don't mind, father?" "Not in the least, my boy," laughed the old man. "Miss Sandys seems deeply distressed concerning you." "Does she?" asked Roddy, with wide-open eyes. "Do you really think she is? Or is it the mystery of the affair which appeals to her. Mystery always appeals to women in a greater sense than to men. Every mystery case in the newspapers is read by ten women to one man, they say." "Perhaps. But I think Miss Sandys evinces a real interest in you, Roddy, because you are ill and the victim of mysterious circumstances," he said. Over the old man's mind rested the shadow of that unscrupulous pair, Gray and the woman Crisp. Had they done some of their devil's work upon his beloved son? He had forgiven them their threats and their intentions, but he remained calm to wait, to investigate, and to point the finger of denunciation against them if their villainy were proved. At ten o'clock Elma Sandys arrived upon her motorcycle, which she constantly used for short distances when alone. Though in the garage her father had two big cars, and she had her own smart little two-seater in which she frequently ran up to London and back, yet she enjoyed her cycle, which she used with a fearlessness begotten of her practice during the war when she had acted as a driver in the Air Force at Oxford--one of the youngest who had taken service, be it said. As soon as she arrived she helped Roddy into his coat, and both went down the Rectory garden, climbed the fence, walked across the paddock, and at last entered the wood with its brown frosted bracken and thick evergreen undergrowth. Through the half-bare branches, for the weather had been mild, the blue sky shone, though the wintry sun was not yet up, and as Roddy led the way carefully towards the footpath, he warned his pretty companion to have a care as there were a number of highly dangerous but concealed holes from which gravel had been dug fifty years or so ago, the gulfs being now covered with the undergrowth. Scarcely had he spoken ere she stumbled and narrowly escaped being precipitated into a hole in which water showed deep below through the tangled briars. Soon they reached the footpath along which he had gone in the darkness on that fatal Sunday night. He paused to take his bearings. He recognised the thick, stout trunk of a high Scotch fir, the only one in the wood. His flash-lamp had shone upon it, he remembered, just at the moment when he had heard the woman's cries. He halted, reflected for a few moments, and then struck out into the undergrowth, confident that he was upon the spot where the unknown girl had sunk dying into his arms. Elma, who watched, followed him. He scarcely spoke, so fully absorbed was he in his quest. At last he crossed some dead and broken bracken, and said: "Here! This is where I found her!" His pretty companion halted at his side and gazed about her. There was nothing save a tangle of undergrowth and dead ferns. Above were high bare oaks swaying slowly in the wintry wind. "Well," said Elma at last. "There's nothing here, is there?" He turned and looked her straight in the face, his expression very serious. "No. There is nothing, I admit. Nothing! And yet a great secret lies here. Here, this spot, remote from anywhere, was the scene of a mysterious tragedy. You hold one clue, Elma--and I the other." And again he looked straight into her eyes, while standing on that very spot where the fair-haired girl had breathed her last in his arms, and then, after a few seconds' silence, he went on: "Elma! I--I call you by your Christian name because I feel that you have my future at heart, and--and I, on my part--I love you! May I call you by your Christian name?" She returned his look very gravely. Her fine eyes met his, but he never wavered. Since that first day when Tweedles, her little black Pomeranian, had snapped at him she had been ever in his thoughts. He could not disguise the fact. Yet, after all, it was a very foolish dream, he had told himself dozens of times. He was poor--very poor--a mere adventurer on life's troublous waters--while she was the daughter of a millionaire with, perhaps, a peeress' career before her. "Roddy," at last she spoke, "I call you that! I think of you as Roddy," she said slowly, looking straight into his eyes. "But in this matter we are very serious--both of us--eh?" "Certainly we are, Elma," he replied, taking her hand passionately. She withdrew it at once, saying: "You have brought me here for a purpose--to find traces of--of the girl who died at this spot. Where are the traces?" "Well, the bracken is trodden down, as you see," he replied. "But surely that is no evidence of what you allege?" "No, Elma. But that photograph which you showed me last night is a picture of her." The girl smiled mysteriously. "You say so. How am I to know? They say that you are unfortunately suffering from delusions. In that case sight of any photograph would possibly strike a false chord in your memory." "False chord!" he cried. "Do you doubt this morning that I am in my sane senses? Do you doubt that which I have just said, Elma--do you doubt that I love you?" The girl's cheeks flushed instantly at his words. Next second they were pale again. "No," she said. "Please don't let us talk of love, Mr Homfray." "Roddy--call me that." "Well--yes, Roddy, if you like." "I do like. You told me that you thought of me as Roddy. Can you never love me?" he implored. The girl held her breath. Her heart was beating quickly and her eyes were turned away. She let him take her gloved hand and raise it fervently to his lips. Then, without answering his question, she turned her splendid eyes to his and he saw in them a strange, mysterious expression such as he had never noticed in the eyes of any woman before. He thought it was a look of sympathy and trust, but a moment later it seemed as though she doubted him--she was half afraid of him. "Elma!" he cried, still holding her hand. "Tell me--tell me that you care for me a little--just a little!" And he gazed imploringly into her pale face. "A little!" she echoed softly. "Perhaps--well, perhaps I do, Roddy. But--but do not let us speak of it now--not until you are better." "Ah! You do love me a little," he cried with delight, again raising her hand to his lips. "Perhaps you think I've not recovered from that infernal drug which my unknown enemies gave me. But I declare that to-day I am in my full senses--all except my memory--which is still curiously at fault." "Let us agree to be very good friends, Roddy," the girl said, pressing his hand. "I confess that I like you very much," she admitted, "but love is quite another matter. We have not known each other very long, remember." "Sufficiently long for me to know that I love you truly, and most dearly, Elma," the young man declared with keen enthusiasm. Then the girl sighed, withdrew her hand, and begged of him to drop the subject. "I have told you that I care for you just a little, Roddy," she said. "For the present let that suffice." She was obdurate, refusing to discuss the matter further. Instead, she began to question him closely concerning the events of that fatal night. Again he repeated them, just as they have been recorded in the foregoing pages. "Then it is evident that you were watched," she remarked. "Whoever was responsible for the crime attacked you by some secret means. Then both of you were taken away." "By whom? To where? That's the mystery!" Roddy echoed blankly. "A mystery which must be fathomed. And I will help you," she said quietly. "You know the identity of the poor girl," he said. "How did you come by her photograph?" he asked, a question he had been dying to put to her ever since the previous evening. She was silent. "You know more of the affair than you have admitted, Elma," he suggested in a low voice, his eyes still fixed upon her pale countenance. "Is my surmise correct?" "It is," she replied in a strange half-whisper. "I have no actual knowledge," she hastened to add. "But I have certain grim and terrible surmises." "You were anxious that my father should not see that photograph last night. Why?" "Well--well, because I did not wish to--I didn't wish him to think that I was unduly exciting you by showing you the portrait," she faltered. He looked at her, struck by her curious evasiveness. "And was there no other reason, Elma?" asked the young man in deep earnestness. Again she hesitated. "Yes. There was another reason," she replied. "One that I regret I cannot at present tell you." "You refuse to satisfy my curiosity--eh?" "I am compelled to refuse," she replied in a low voice. "Why?" "Because, as yet, I have only suspicions and surmises. When I have proved even one of them then I shall not hesitate to tell you the truth, Roddy--a bitter and terrible truth though it may be." "Really you are most mysterious!" her companion said, his face darkening. "I know I am," she answered with a queer hollow laugh. "But at least you can tell me the dead girl's name?" "I only know her Christian name. It is Edna." "You knew her personally?" "Well--yes. I have met her." "In what circumstances?" "Curious ones. Very curious ones," the girl replied. "If my surmises are correct, Roddy, we are face to face with one of the strangest problems of crime that has ever arisen in our modern world," she added. "But until I am able to substantiate certain facts I can tell you nothing--nothing, much as I desire to in order to place you upon your guard." "What, am I still in peril?" "Yes, I believe you are--in very great peril. So beware of yet another trap which may be cunningly laid for you by those who may pose as your friends." And the girl, taking her companion's hand, gripped it between hers, and looking into his face, added: "Roddy, trust me. Don't ask me for facts which I cannot give. There are reasons--very strong reasons--that compel me for the moment to remain silent. So trust me?" CHAPTER EIGHT. FEARS AND SURPRISES. Three nights later. Over the steps which led from the pavement in Park Lane to the front door of Mr Sandys' huge white mansion an awning had been erected. The people who went by upon the motor-buses to Oxford Street or to Hyde Park Corner noted it, and remarked that Purcell Sandys was giving one of his usual parties--functions at which the smartest set in high Society attended; gatherings which were always announced by the _Times_ on the day previous and chronicled--with the dresses worn by the female guests--on the morning following. The huge white-painted mansion which was so well known to Londoners was to them, after all, a house of mystery. The gossip papers had told them how the famous financier--one of England's pillars of finance--spent three hundred pounds weekly on the floral decorations of the place; how the rooms, the mahogany doors of which had silver hinges, were full of priceless curios, and how each Wednesday night the greatest musical artistes in the world were engaged to play for the benefit of his guests at fees varying from five hundred to a thousand guineas. All this was the truth. The Wednesday night entertainments of Purcell Sandys were unique. Nobody in all the world was so lavish upon music or upon floral decorations. The grey-bearded old man, who usually wore a rather shabby suit, and habitually smoked a pipe, gave his guests the very best he could, for he loved flowers--as his great range of hot-houses at Farncombe Towers and at Biarritz testified--while good music always absorbed his senses. Cars were constantly arriving, depositing the guests, and driving on again, while the servants in the wide, flower-decorated hall were passing to and fro, busy with the hats and coats of the men, and conducting the ladies upstairs. Through the hall came strains of dance music from the fine ballroom at the back of the house, one of the finest in the West End of London. At the head of the great staircase Elma, in a simple but pretty frock of pale lemon, was doing the duty of hostess, as she always did, while her father, a burly, grey-bearded, rather bluff man in a well-fitting but well-worn evening suit, was grasping the hands of his friends warmly, and welcoming them. On the opposite side of the road, against the railings of Hyde Park, a young man was standing, watching the procession of cars, watching with wistful eyes as he stood with half a dozen others attracted by the commotion, as is always the case outside the mansions of the West End where a party is in progress. The young man was Roddy Homfray. As a matter of fact, he had passed in a 'bus towards Hyde Park Corner, and seeing the awning outside Mr Sandys' house, had alighted and out of sheer curiosity made his way back. At his side were two young girls of the true Cockney type, who were criticising each female guest as she arrived, and declaring what a joy it must be to be able to wear fine clothes and go to parties in a car. Roddy was just about to turn away and cross to Waterloo to take the last train home, when among the cars he saw a fine grey Rolls in which a man and a woman were seated. Next second he craned his neck, and then crossed the road to obtain a nearer view of the pair. "Yes," he gasped aloud to himself, "that's the woman. I'm certain! And the man? No, I'm not quite so sure. He was older, I think." Unseen, he narrowly watched the tallish, dark-haired, clean-shaven man alight, and saw him help out his companion, who was about forty, and wore a fur-trimmed evening wrap of gorgeous brocade and a beautiful diamond ornament in her dark hair. "No! I'm not mistaken!" the young man muttered again to himself. "That's the woman, without a doubt. But surely she can't be a friend of Mr Sandys!" That she was, was instantly proved by the fact that she ascended the red-carpeted steps followed by her companion, and they were received within by the bowing man-servant. He watched them disappear, and a few moments afterwards he boldly mounted the steps to the door, where his passage was at once barred by a flunkey. "I don't want to come in," said Roddy, in a low, confidential tone. "Do me a favour, will you? I'll make it right with you. I want to know the names of that lady and gentleman who've this moment gone in." The servant viewed him rather suspiciously, and replied: "Well, I don't know them myself, for I haven't been here long--only a week. But I'll try to find out if you'll come back, say, in a quarter of an hour." "Yes, do," urged Roddy. "It's most important to me." And then he slipped back down the steps and strolled along Park Lane, full of strange reflections. That woman! It was the same woman of his hideous nightmare--the dark-faced woman who had held him beneath her evil influence, and forced him to commit some act against his will. But exactly what act it was he could not for the life of him recall. Sometimes he had an idea that he had been forced into the committal of a terrible crime, while at others the recollections all seemed so vague and fantastic that he dismissed them as the mere vagaries of an upset mind. But he had found the woman. She was a friend of the Sandys! And did not Elma hold the photograph of the girl Edna, whom he had discovered in Welling Wood? The circumstances were more than strange! A quarter of an hour later he returned to the house, and on slipping a ten-shilling note surreptitiously into the hand of the servant the latter said: "The gentleman's name is Mr Bertram Harrison, and the lady--a widow--is Mrs Freda Crisp." "Freda Crisp?" he echoed aghast. "Yes. That's the name Mr Hughes, the butler, told me," the flunkey declared. Roddy Homfray turned away. Freda Crisp! How amazing! That was the name of the woman against whom his father had warned him. That woman was undoubtedly his enemy. Why? Could it be possible that she was Elma's enemy also? Was it possible that Elma, with the knowledge of the girl Edna, who had died in the wood and so mysteriously disappeared, suspected that handsome dark-haired woman of being implicated in the crime? He recollected Elma's curious reticence concerning the girl, and her refusal to make any allegations before she had ascertained and proved certain facts. He crossed the road and, halting, gazed through the railings out across the dark London park where in the distance the lights were twinkling among the bare branches. The night was cold, for a keen east wind had sprung up. He hesitated. To remain the night in London would bring the truth no nearer, for with the gay party in progress he could not enter there in the clothes he wore. And besides, he had not yet met Elma's father. He longed to go there and watch the movements of that dark, gorgeously-dressed woman who had exercised such a strangely evil influence over him while he was in the grip of that mysterious drug. Who was she? Why had she and her companion held him in their toils for days, and then cast him aside at that remote spot by the Thames, hoping that he would die during the night? What did it all mean? He glanced at his watch, and saw that if he took a taxi he might just catch the last train. And this he did. It was long after midnight when he entered the silent old Rectory and found his father bent beneath the green-shaded reading-lamp which stood on the study table. The rector had been busy writing for hours--ever since old Mrs Bentley had cleared away his supper and wished him good-night. Roddy, throwing off his coat, sank wearily into the wicker arm-chair before the welcome fire and took out his pipe, his father continuing writing his next Sunday's sermon after briefly greeting him. As the young man smoked, he reflected, until at last he suddenly said: "Haven't you finished your work, father? It's getting very late." "Just finished--just finished, my boy!" said the old man cheerily, screwing up his fountain-pen. "I've had a heavy day to-day--out visiting nearly all day. There's a lot of sickness in the village, you know." "Yes. And the Sandys are away in town, aren't they?" "They went up yesterday. Mr Sandys and his daughter are always at Park Lane on Wednesdays, I understand. I saw in the paper this morning that the party to-night has a rather political flavour, for two Cabinet Ministers and their wives are to be there." "I suppose Mr Sandys must be very rich?" "Immensely, they say. I heard the other day that he is one of the confidential advisers of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and he'll probably get a peerage before long," said his father. "But, after all, he is not one of your modern, get-rich-quick men. He's a real, solid, God-fearing man, who though so very wealthy does a large amount of good in a quiet, unostentatious way. Only three days ago he gave me a cheque for two hundred pounds and asked me to distribute it to the poor people at Christmas, but on no condition is his name to be mentioned to a soul. So keep the information to yourself, Roddy." "Of course I will," his son replied, puffing at his pipe. "Mr Sandys asked about you," said the rector. "I am to take you to the Towers to dine one night very soon." "I shall be delighted. Old Lord Farncombe asked me when I was last at home. Don't you remember?" "Of course," said his father. "But how have you been feeling to-day? All right, I hope?" "I feel quite right again now," replied the young man. Then, after a brief pause, he removed his pipe and looked straight across at his father as in a rather changed voice, he said: "Do you recollect, dad, the other day you spoke of a certain woman, and warned me against her?" "Yes," said the old rector very seriously. "You recollect her name, I hope--Freda Crisp. Never forget that name, Roddy, _never_!" "Why?" "Because she is my enemy, my boy--and yours," replied the old man, in a hard, strained voice. "Why should she be? I don't know the lady." "You said that you had some recollection of her in South America," the old clergyman remarked. "It isn't the same woman." "Oh! How do you know?" asked his father, glancing at him quickly. "Because I've seen the real Freda Crisp--the woman who you say is my enemy. I saw her to-night." "You've seen her! Where?" asked Mr Homfray eagerly. "She is the woman I see in my bad dreams--those hazy recollections of the hours when I was drugged--handsome, dark-haired, middle-aged, and wears wonderful gowns." "Exactly! The description is quite correct, Roddy. But where did you see her to-night?" "She is at Mr Sandys'." "At Mr Sandys'?" gasped his father. "You are surely mistaken! Freda Crisp would never have the _entree_ there?" "But she has, father! I saw her go in--with an elderly man whose name is Bertram Harrison." "I've never heard of him. But are you quite certain of this, Roddy? Are you positive that the woman is actually on friendly terms with Mr Sandys?" Then Roddy explained to his father exactly what had occurred, and how he had obtained the name of the handsome guest. "Well--what you tell me, my boy, utterly staggers me?" the old man admitted. "I never dreamed that the woman knew Purcell Sandys. I told you to beware of her, and I repeat my warning. She is a woman whose eyes are as fascinating as those of a snake, and whose hand-shake is as fatal as a poisoned dart." "Really, dad, you don't seem to like her, eh?" "No, my boy, I don't. I have cause--good cause, alas! to hold her in abhorrence--as your enemy and mine!" "But why? I can't understand you. You've never spoken of her till the other day." "Because I--well, the secret is mine, Roddy." "Yours," said his son. "Is it one that I may not know?" "Yes. I would prefer to say nothing more," he answered briefly. "Nothing more concerning a woman who held me for days beneath her evil influence, helpless as a babe in her unscrupulous hands--a woman who compelled me to--" "To what, Roddy?" asked his father very quickly, and with difficulty controlling his own emotion. "To commit some crime, I fear. But I cannot tell--I cannot decide exactly what I did--or how I acted. All seems so vague, indistinct and mysterious! All I remember is that woman's handsome face--that pair of dark, evil eyes!" "Yes," remarked the old man in a deep voice. "They are evil. The man is bad enough--but the woman is even worse." "The man Harrison?" "No. Gordon Gray. You have not met him." "Perhaps I have. Perhaps he was the man with Mrs Crisp at the house where I was held in bondage--a big house standing in its own grounds-- but where it is situated, I have no idea." "Perhaps," said his father reflectively. "Describe him." Roddy Homfray strove to recall the salient points of the woman's male companion, and as far as his recollection went he described them. "Yes," said the rector, his grey brows knit. "It may have been Gordon Gray! But why did they make that secret attack upon you, if not in order to injure me?" "Because I discovered the girl in the wood. They evidently intended to cover all traces of the crime. But how did they come to Welling Wood at all?" His father remained silent. He had said nothing of the woman's secret visit to him, nor of Gray's presence in the church on that Sunday night. He kept his own counsel, yet now he fully realised the dastardly trap set for his son, and how, all unconsciously, the lad had fallen into it. Only that afternoon Doctor Denton had called, and they had taken tea together. In the course of their conversation the doctor had told him how, when in London on the previous day, he had gone to an old fellow-student who was now a great mental specialist in Harley Street, and had had a conversation with him concerning Roddy's case. After hearing all the circumstances and a close description of the symptoms, the specialist had given it as his opinion that the ball of fire which Roddy had seen was undoubtedly the explosion of a small bomb of asphyxiating gas which had rendered him unconscious. Afterwards a certain drug recently invented by a chemist in Darmstadt had, no doubt, been injected into his arms. This drug was a most dangerous and terrible one, for while it had no influence upon a person's actions, yet it paralysed the brain and almost inevitably caused insanity. Roddy was practically cured, but the specialist had expressed a very serious fear that ere long signs of insanity would reappear, and it would then be incurable! It was that secret but terrible knowledge of his son's imminent peril that old Mr Homfray now held. His enemies had triumphed, after all! And this was made the more plain when three hours later he woke up to find his son in his room, chattering and behaving as no man in his senses would. The old man rose, and with clenched fists declared aloud that he would now himself fight for his son's life and bring the guilty pair to justice. But, alas! the old rector never dreamed how difficult would be his task, nor what impregnable defences had arisen to protect and aid those who were his enemies. In addition Roddy, in his half-dazed condition, never dreamed of the perils and pitfalls which now surrounded the girl he so dearly loved. CHAPTER NINE. THE SPIDER'S NEST. Ten days had gone by. Gordon Gray, wearing a grey Austrian velour hat and heavy brown motor-coat, turned the car from the Great North Road into the drive which led to the front of Willowden, and alighted. The afternoon was wet, and the drive from London had been a cold, uncomfortable one. In the hall he threw off his coat, and entering the well-furnished morning-room, rang the bell. In a few moments Claribut, respectable, white-haired and rosy-faced, entered. "Well, Jim?" he asked. "What's the news at Little Farncombe--eh? You've been there several days; what have you discovered?" "Several things," replied the old crook who posed as servant. "Things we didn't expect." "How?" asked Gray, offering the old man a cigarette from his gold case. "Well, I went first to Pangbourne, and then to Little Farncombe. Young Homfray was taken queer again. I stayed at the Red Lion, and managed to find out all about what was going on at the Rectory. Homfray's old gardener is in the habit of taking his glass of beer there at night, and I, posing as a stranger, soon got him to talk. He told me that his young master was taken ill in the night. His brain had given way, and the village doctor called in a specialist from Harley Street. The latter can't make out the symptoms." "Probably not!" growled Gray. "The dose cost us a lot, so it ought not to be detected by the first man consulted." "The specialist has, however, fixed that he's suffering from a drug-- administered with malicious intent, he puts it." "What's the fool's name?" snapped Gray. "I don't know. My friend, the gardener, could not ascertain." Gray gave vent to a short grunt of dissatisfaction. "Well--and what then?" "The young fellow was very ill--quite off his head for three days--and then they gave him some injections which quietened him, and now he's a lot better. Nearer his normal self, I hear." And he sank into a chair by the fire. "H'm! He'll probably have a second relapse. I wonder what they gave him? I wonder if this Harley Street chap has twigged our game, Jim?" "Perhaps he has." "If so, then it's a jolly good job for us that I kept out of the way. Young Homfray has never seen me to his knowledge, remember. He saw you several times." "Yes, Gordon. You took precautions--as you always do. You somehow seem to see into the future." "I do, my dear Jimmie. I hope this lad doesn't recognise Freda again. He may, of course. But he doesn't know me--which is as well." "He recollects finding Edna, though." "Ah! That's a little awkward, isn't it?" "Yes, it is. He told the old sky-pilot all about it, but naturally they think his mind is unhinged and take the story with a grain of salt." "Naturally. But what else?" asked the well-dressed international crook with a business-like air. "It seems that the young fellow is on the point of obtaining a concession from the Moorish Government to prospect for emeralds somewhere in the Atlas Mountains; I believe it is a place called the Wad Sus. Ever heard of it?" "Yes," replied Gray, making a mental note of the region. "I've heard of some ancient mines there. But how is he obtaining the concession?" "Ah! I've had a lot of trouble to get that information, and it has cost me a pound or two. But I've got it," laughed the old scoundrel. "There's a friend of his who lives at Richmond, a certain Andrew Barclay, who has spent many years in Fez. It seems that young Homfray met him in Santiago last year, and by some means was able to do him a great service. In return, this man Barclay is endeavouring to obtain the concession for prospecting from the Moorish Government." "H'm! The Wad Sus region--a very wild mountainous one, inhabited by a wild desert tribe called the Touaregs, men who wear black veils over their faces to protect them from the sandstorms so prevalent in the Sahara. But I'll look it all up. Where does this man Barclay live?" asked Gray. "In Underhill Road. Where that is I don't know--but, of course, it is easily found." The master-crook drew several long whiffs at his choice Eastern cigarette. "Then, after all, it may be to our distinct advantage that Roderick Homfray recovers, Jimmie." "What! Then you think that the concession for the emerald prospecting may be worth money?" "It may be worth quite a lot in the City. A rather attractive proposition--emeralds in the Sahara. I know two or three men who would take it up--providing I could bring them a properly signed and sealed concession. Emeralds are increasing in value nowadays, you know--and an emerald concession is a sound proposition. After all, the lad may yet be of considerable use to us, Jimmie." "Pity he saw Freda!" remarked the wily old fellow. "Jimmie, the butler" was well known in Sing-Sing Prison as one of the shrewdest and cleverest of crooks and card-sharpers who had ever "worked" the transatlantic liners. In the underworld of New York, Paris and London marvellous stories had been and were still told of his alertness, of the several bold _coups_ he had made, and the great sums he had filched from the pockets of the unwary in conjunction, be it said, with Gordon Gray, alias Commander George Tothill, late of the British Navy, who was also known to certain of his pals as "Toby" Jackson. At Parkhurst Prison "Joyous Jimmie" was also well known, for he had enjoyed the English air for seven years less certain good conduct remission. But both master and man were crooks, clever cultured men who could delude anybody, who could adapt themselves to any surroundings, who knew life in all its phases, and could, with equanimity, eat a portion of oily fried fish-and-chips for their dinner or enjoy a Sole Colbert washed down with a glass of Imperial Tokay. The pair, with a man named Arthur Porter, known to his criminal friends as "Guinness"--whom, by the way, Roddy had seen entering Mr Sandys' house in Park Lane--and the handsome woman Freda Crisp were indeed parasites upon London society. Their daring was colossal, their ingenuity astounding, and the ramifications of their friends bewildering. "Get me a drink, Jimmie," said the man who posed as his master. "I'm cold. Why the devil don't you keep a better fire than this?" "The missus is out. Went to the parson's wife's tea-party half an hour ago. Mary goes to church here. It's better." "Of course it is--gives us a hall-mark of respectability," laughed Gray. "Freda goes now and then. But she gives money to the old parson and excuses herself for non-attendance on Sunday mornings. Oh! my dear Jimmie!" he laughed. "These people want a lot of moss scraping off them, don't they--eh?" "Moss! Why, it's that hard, grey lichen with hairy flowers that grows on trees! They want it all scraped off, then rubbed with sandpaper and a rag and acid applied to put a bit of vim in them. It's the same over all this faded old country--that's my belief." "And yet some of them are infernally cute. That old man Homfray, for instance, he's got his eyes skinned. He doesn't forget that silly young ass Hugh Willard, you know!" "No, Gordon! Don't mention him. That's one of our failures--one of our false steps," declared Jimmie. "I don't like to hear any mention of his name--nor of Hyde Park Square either." "Rot! my dear fellow! What can the old clergyman know? Nothing. It's all surmise--and what does that matter? There's no trace, and--" "And we made a profit--and a fine lot of good it did us." "It was Freda's doing. She worked it out." "I know. And, thanks to her, we are in the infernal peril we are to-day, my dear Gordon." "Peril? Bosh! What are you thinking of, Jimmie?" laughed Gray. "There's not a written word." "But you know what old Homfray said to Freda--what he threatened--a witness!" "Witness!" laughed the good-looking man, tossing his cigarette end viciously into the fire. "Don't believe it, my dear old chap. He was only trying to bluff her--and Freda knows a game worth two of that--the game we are playing with the old fool's son." "A highly dangerous game--I call it!" was the butler's dubious reply. "Leave that to me." "But he might recognise me, Gordon!" "Rot! You won't meet him." "What about Freda?" "Don't worry. The boy was so dazed by the drug that he'll never recognise her again. She tried to make him believe that he himself had committed a crime. And she succeeded." "Old Homfray may have told him about us and about the Willard affair. What then?" "No fear of that. Old Homfray will say nothing to his son. He wouldn't expose himself." But Claribut shook his head in doubt. "My opinion is that we're treading on very thin ice. I don't like this house--and I don't like the look of things at all." "The house is all right. Young Homfray can recollect nothing clearly after he found the girl." "Of course, his friends are laughing at this weird story of how he discovered her," said Claribut. "But we don't know whether, in some way or other, his story may be corroborated. And then--" "Well, even then there's no evidence to connect us with the affair. None whatever. We got them both clear away in the car, thanks to your marvellous ingenuity, Jimmie. And naturally he wonders where Edna is." "And so do two or three other people," Claribut remarked. "Recollect there are some unwelcome inquiries on foot in another quarter." "I don't fear them in the least. All we have to do now is to sit tight and watch the young fellow's movements. We want to ascertain what he is doing concerning that concession. We must discover that man Barclay at Richmond and find out what sort of fellow he is. I may have to approach him. We both of us know Morocco--eh, Jimmie? That little bit of gun-running helping the Moors against the Spanish was exciting enough-- wasn't it?" "Yes. And it brought us in big profits, too. I wish we had another slice of luck like it," Claribut agreed. "Well, we may. Who knows? I'll see what I can find out about emeralds in Morocco." At that moment the woman Crisp came in. She was wearing a long mink coat, with a splendid blue fox around her neck and a small grey velour hat which suited her to perfection. "Hallo, Gordon! Back again. How's Paris looking?" "Looking? I was only there nine hours, just to see Francillon. Good job I went. He didn't see the risk. He's slipped off to Switzerland. He left the Gare de Lyon at eleven this morning, and the Surete are now looking, for him. He got off just in the nick of time." "You came over by air, I suppose?" "Yes, left Le Bourget at ten and was at Croydon just after twelve. I left the car at Croydon yesterday afternoon when I went over. Rather a bad fog over the Channel and it took us over three hours." "Did you see Milly?" "Yes, called at the Continental last night and had half an hour's chat with her. She seems well enough, and had booked her passage to New York from Cherbourg on the eighteenth." "And what's the latest about young Homfray?" asked the handsome woman, divesting herself of her furs. "I was just discussing him with Jimmie. He seems to have unearthed one or two things while poking about at Little Farncombe." "Yes. But there's one fact that I've discovered to-day--a very important fact," she said. "Well, what's the trouble now?" asked Gray. "Young Homfray is watching us!" "Watching us? What do you mean?" asked the man, turning pale. "Has the old man told him about us?" "He may have done. That we can't tell. Only I found out that the other night Homfray was watching outside Purcell Sandys' house in Park Lane, and saw me go in with Arthur. He inquired our names of one of the servants." "Gad! Then he's already recognised you--eh?" cried Gray. "That's horribly awkward." "It is--in many ways! We must devise some plan to close the young man's mouth." "But how, Freda?" "The drug will work again in a day or two. When it does he'll be a hopeless idiot and nobody will credit a word he's said." "It may work--and it may not. Jimmie says that some Harley Street fellow has been giving him injections. That looks as though the drug has been spotted--eh?" "Yes, it does. But old Grunberg assured me that a reaction must set in and hopeless idiocy will be the result. At least, let's hope so." "I'm not so hopeful. The lad may yet be of some use to us. It's fortunate that he's never seen me." "It is. And you'd better keep away from me in London, for it's evident that he is pretty shrewd, and is now constantly watchful." "I agree," growled Claribut. "And he must not see me either." "No. He certainly must not," said Freda Crisp. "Of course, the mystery of Edna has aroused his curiosity--which is a pity. Our only hope is that the drug will act as old Grunberg guaranteed it would. By Jove! those German chemists are devilish clever--aren't they? Old Homfray has defied us, and he will very soon have cause to regret his words, as I told him he would. Yet he may, of course, risk everything and tell the police about Hugh Willard!" "Oh! Don't worry at all about that, you fool!" urged Gray. "As long as his son lives, whether idiot or not, he'll keep his mouth closed for his own sake, depend upon it?" CHAPTER TEN. WHAT MR SANDYS KNEW. "I am very pleased indeed to meet your son, Mr Homfray," said the grey-bearded man in his well-worn dinner-jacket as he grasped Roddy's hand in the handsome hall of Farncombe Towers. "It's awfully kind of you to say that, Mr Sandys," replied the young man, as they crossed to the great open fireplace with the blazing logs, a fireplace with carved stone over which was the time-worn escutcheon with the sea-horse rampant of the ancient Farncombe family. "It's so very kind of you to invite me," the young man went on. "Lord Farncombe asked me here the last time I was back in England." "You are a great traveller, I believe--are you not? Your father told me the other day about your adventures on the Amazon." "Well," laughed the young man, easy in his well-cut dinner-jacket. "I'm a mining engineer, you know, and we have to rough it very often." "No doubt. Some of you are the pioneers of Great Britain. Once, years ago, I accompanied an expedition up the Yukon River, and I had a very rough time of it, but it was intensely interesting." "Just now my son is interested in a concession for emerald prospecting in the Atlas Mountains," the old rector remarked. "I have been going into the matter. There are some ancient workings somewhere in the Wad Sus district, from which it is said that the Pharaoh Rameses V of the Twenty-First Dynasty, and who was called Amennesu-F, obtained the magnificent gems which were among the greatest treasures of his huge palace in ancient Thebes. They were the gems which five hundred years later Ptolemy IV gave to Arsinde, the wife of Philopator--a fact which is recorded in a papyrus in the British Museum. And that was about eleven hundred years before the Christian era. The exact locality has been lost, but my son believes that from the mention of two ancient documents--one of which is in the Egyptian department at the British Museum and the other in the National Library in Paris--it can be located." "Most interesting, intensely interesting," exclaimed the honest-faced old gentleman whose name in connexion with his partner, Sir Charles Hornton, the international banker, who lived mostly in Paris, was one to conjure with in high finance. All over Europe the banking house of Sandys and Hornton was known. Next to that of the Rothschilds it was the most world famous. Old Purcell's partner lived in the Avenue des Champs Elysees and had the ancient chateau of Livarot on the Loire, a beautiful winter villa at Cap Martin, and a house in Suffolk. Sir Charles seldom, if ever, came to London. Lady Hornton, however, frequently came, and spent a few weeks each season at Claridge's or at Fawndene Court. "I hope you will be successful, not only in obtaining the concession from the Moors, Homfray, but also in locating the exact position of the ancient workings," Sandys said, turning to the young man. "It should bring you a fortune, for such a business proposition is worth money even to-day when there is a slump in precious gems." "I hope to be successful," Roddy replied, when at the same moment Elma, in a pretty gown of soft pink crepe marocain, entered the room. Unaware of their previous friendship, Mr Sandys introduced his daughter. Roddy instantly realised the fact that her father was in ignorance of their acquaintance, therefore he greeted her with formality, a fact which secretly amused the old rector. At dinner Roddy found himself seated on Elma's left in the fine old seventeenth-century room, with its old panelling and its four oval portraits by Lely, pictures of the dead-and-gone Farncombe beauties in wigs and patches. Roddy and his father were the only guests, and Elma, smiling and happy, acted as hostess. The grey-bearded old financier evinced a great interest in the rector's son, and listened to his descriptions of his wanderings up the mighty Amazon. Presently Mr Sandys remarked: "I hear you are interested in wireless. It must be a most fascinating science. Of course, I have seen the installations on board ship, but the modern wireless telephony seems to me little short of marvellous." "Yes, to the uninitiated," remarked the young fellow with a smile. "I've been experimenting for some years, and the set I have at the Rectory is quite efficient. From it I can speak over five to six hundred miles of space." "Really?" exclaimed the old gentleman, greatly interested. "How very wonderful. I should like to see it." "So should I, dad," said Elma, not allowing her father to know that she was already very well acquainted with the set, for Roddy had shown her how it worked, and had given her some slight instruction in its various complications. "We ought to have a set fixed here. Then we could listen to the wireless concerts, the broadcasting of news, and all that goes on in the ether--eh?" "Would it be a very difficult affair to fit up a set here?" inquired her father of the young man. "Not at all. You could easily stretch an aerial from a mast on one of the towers across to one of the big trees in the park, and so have a magnificent aerial. As regards cost, it all depends upon what you desire to receive. There are small sets for about five pounds, while on the large sets, which would receive everything up to nine thousand miles distant, one can spend a hundred pounds or more. Of course, you would not want to transmit--for transmission permits are only granted to those engaged in genuine research work." "No. I should only want to listen. Could you manage to instal one for me, do you think?" "With the greatest of pleasure," said Roddy, delighted, while in secret Elma was equally enthusiastic. She well knew how absorbed he was in his experiments, and what pleasure he would derive from fitting up the new station. So it was decided that Roddy should purchase a really fine seven-valve receiving-set and fix it up as soon as possible. "You are not going away just yet, I hope," said the financier laughing, "at least, not until you've fixed up our wireless." "I don't expect so," was the young man's reply. "As soon as my friend gets the concession through at Fez I shall go to Morocco and start to work. I've been reading up the Wad Sus region, and it seems that the only way to reach it in safety is to join one of the camel caravans which go regularly to and fro from Mogador across the Sahara." "How interesting!" declared Elma, looking very sweet and dainty. "What an adventure to travel with the Arabs! I'd love it. We were in Algiers for a few weeks the winter before last, and I longed to make an excursion into the desert, but father objected!" "Ah! The Sahara is no place for a woman, Elma," replied the old man. "And especially that district south of the Atlas where Mr Homfray is going. By the way," added Mr Sandys, turning to the young man, "I hear that you haven't been very well lately. Somebody said you were missing for several days. Is that so?" A slight colour rose to the young man's face, for he was at a loss for an evasive explanation. "Oh! I went away--up to London--and father grew alarmed because I hadn't told him where I'd gone--that's all!" he laughed, and his eyes met Elma's with a meaning look. There the matter dropped, and all four leaving the table passed into the big drawing-room, warmed by huge wood fires blazing at each end, where coffee was served by Hughes, the stately old butler who had been in Lord Farncombe's service. Indeed, when Mr Sandys purchased the Towers he took over nearly the entire staff, by which he had greatly ingratiated himself with the whole countryside. It was a magnificent old room, oblong, with four long windows which in daytime gave beautiful vistas over the lake, the park, and dark woods beyond--a room which contained a number of valuable pieces of antique furniture, some genuine Elizabethan chairs and a Carolean day-bed, while on the walls were three pieces of almost priceless tapestry which had originally been in the historic Chateau of Amboise. Across the long windows heavy plush curtains were now drawn, and instead of a hundred candles in the great crystal candelabra, the beautiful old apartment with its sweet odour of pot pourri was filled with the soft glow of electricity, the lamps being hidden behind the high-up cornice. After coffee, Elma, at her father's request, went to the piano and King delightfully some charming French chansonettes. She had received part of her education at Versailles and spoke French fluently. "When shall you start putting up the wireless, Mr Homfray?" she asked presently, turning to Roddy, while her father and the rector were discussing something concerning the parish. "As soon as I can get the apparatus," was his reply. "You will, I hope, help me--eh?" And he looked straight into her fine eyes. "If you wish," she replied. "But--but," she added in a low voice, "you are going away to Morocco?" and her lips pouted prettily. "Not yet," he assured her beneath his breath. "I have no wish to go while you are here, Elma." They had contrived to be at the other end of the big room, so that they could not be overheard. But next second he spoke aloud, suggesting that she should sing another song. "No, Mr Homfray. Come, let us sit by the fire," she urged. "Tell me more about your adventures in South America. It's so exciting." And they seated themselves at the further end of the room. Elma was nothing else than a modern girl--a "latchkey girl," if one liked to apply to her such an epithet. The removal of the conventions which tradition had built up around women--removed by the ardours and endurances of the war--has reorganised society. The correct behaviour of the days of Elma's mother had vanished, and instead of the chaperon-- to-day as extinct as the dodo--Elma frequently took around with her her dancing partner, a good-looking young barrister named Mostyn Wynn, with whom she often danced the entire evening, he taking her home to Park Lane in the small hours of the morning. Mostyn was only a "pal." He was a divine dancer, but she regarded him in much the same light as she regarded her little sharp-nosed, alert Pomeranian, Tweedles, the fiery yapper who had been the means of introducing her to Roddy Homfray. There are a good many pessimists to-day, both men and women, in London Society who declare that its "decline and fall" has come because a girl has a latchkey, because she sometimes pays for a man's dinner at a restaurant, and because she takes her dancing partner about with her like a dog. They say that the delicate lights and shades of the romance of Society of the Edwardian days are no longer to be found in Mayfair or Belgravia, but those who see through modern spectacles know that the removal of those tiresome and outworn conventions was inevitable, and that dancing partners and latchkeys for women mark the renaissance of London life, rather than the decline which our pessimists who have lived in the last generation declare it to be. "Last Wednesday you were not in London, were you?" remarked Roddy, as he smoked the cigarette which Elma had offered him. "No," she replied. "I motored father up to Liverpool. He had some business friends coming from New York, so we didn't give our usual party." "But on the previous Wednesday you did, and you had among your guests a Mrs Crisp." "Yes, Freda Crisp. Do you know her? Isn't she awfully jolly?" "I only know her by sight, Elma. What do you know of her? Tell me," he asked, lowering his voice again. "Oh! not really very much. Her friend, Mr Bertram Harrison, is a business friend of father's. They are, I believe, carrying on some negotiations concerning a company in Marseilles." "But Mrs Crisp. How did you come to know her?" "Why?" "Because I am very interested," Roddy said, deeply in earnest. "Lady Hornton, the wife of father's partner, introduced us when I was staying at Fawndene Court, their place in Suffolk, about six months ago. Mr Harrison came there to dine and sleep. But Freda never fails nowadays to come to our party, and she has hosts of friends in town." "Where does she live?" he asked eagerly. "At a big old house called Willowden, beyond Welwyn, on the Great North Road." The young man made a mental note of the address. Could it have been to that house he had been taken? If he saw it again possibly he would remember it. "Why are you so inquisitive about her?" asked the girl. "For several reasons," he replied. "I was once warned against her, Elma. And I would repeat the warning to you," he said, looking straight into the beautiful eyes of the girl he loved so deeply. "But why?" she asked, staring at him. "Freda is an awfully good friend of mine?" "Has she ever been down here?" "No. We've always met in town." "Has she ever asked about this place--about Little Farncombe--or about myself?" "No, never. Why?" Roddy hesitated. Then he answered: "Oh! well, I thought she might be a little inquisitive--that's all?" He did not tell her that it was his father, the rector, who had declared her to be a woman of a very undesirable type. It was that woman's handsome, evil face that ever and anon arose in his dreams. She was the woman under whose influence he had acted against his will, utterly helpless while beneath her dominating influence and only half-conscious in his drugged state. And such a woman was Elma's friend! "Do you know anything of Mr Harrison?" Roddy asked, whereupon she replied that she did not know much about him, but that her father would know. Then she called across to him: "I say, dad, what do you know about Bertram Harrison--Freda Crisp's friend?" At mention of the latter name the rector's face changed. "Bertram Harrison?" echoed the great financier. "Oh! He is partner in a French financial house. Hornton is having some business with him. Mrs Crisp is a relative of his--his sister, I believe. Why do you ask?" The rector sat silent and wondering. "Mr Homfray knows Mrs Crisp, and has just asked me about Mr Harrison." "Oh! you know Freda, do you?" exclaimed Mr Sandys, addressing the young man. "A very intelligent and delightful woman, isn't she? She has been a wonderful traveller." "Yes," replied Roddy faintly. "I--well, I was surprised when I knew that she was a frequent visitor at Park Lane." "Why?" "For certain reasons, Mr Sandys," was the young man's hard reply, "certain private reasons." "You don't like her, that's evident," laughed the grey-bearded man. "No, I don't," was Roddy's blunt answer, as his eyes met those of his father. "Well, she's always most charming to me?" declared Elma. "And she has never mentioned me?" he asked. "Are you quite sure?" "Never?" "Of course, I only know her through Harrison," Mr Sandys said. "He introduced her to my partner, Sir Charles Hornton, whose wife, in turn, introduced her to Elma. She comes to our parties and seems to be very well known, for I've seen her in the Park once or twice with people who move in the best circles." "I know you'll pardon me, Mr Sandys," Roddy said, "but I merely asked your daughter what she knew of her. Please do not think that I wish to criticise your friends." "Of course not," laughed the financier. "All of us at times make social mistakes, especially men in my own walk of life. I am frequently compelled to entertain people whose friendship I do not desire, but whom I have to tolerate for purely business purposes. But, by the way," he added, "I should much like to hear more concerning this concession in Morocco in which you are interested. Shall you be in London to-morrow? If so, will you look in and see me about noon in Lombard Street?" "Certainly," replied Roddy with delight, and half an hour later father and son walked back through the frosty night to the Rectory. On the way Roddy referred to the conversation concerning the woman Crisp, but his father remained pensive and silent. He merely remarked: "I had no idea that that woman was friendly with Miss Sandys." Next day at the hour appointed Roddy passed through the huge swing doors in Lombard Street which bore a great brass plate with the inscription: "Sandys and Hornton," and a commissionaire at once conducted him up in the lift to Mr Purcell Sandys' private room. The elderly man was seated smoking a cigar by the fire of the big apartment which, with its red Turkey carpet and large mahogany table, was more like a comfortable dining-room than a business office. He welcomed his visitor to an arm-chair and at once pushed over a box of cigars. Then, when Roddy had lit one, he rose, and standing astride upon the hearthrug, he looked at him very seriously and said: "I really asked you here, Homfray, to put a question to you--one which I trust you will answer with truth." "Certainly I will," the young man replied frankly. The old man fixed him with his deep-set eyes, and in a strange voice put to him a question which caused him to gasp. "A young girl named Edna Manners has mysteriously disappeared. You know something concerning the affair! Tell me, what do you know?" CHAPTER ELEVEN. THE HOUSE OF MYSTERY. In an instant Roddy recovered himself. He saw that if he repeated the story of finding the girl in Welling Wood he would not be believed. And if Mr Sandys did not believe the strange truth, he would likewise not believe in his _bona fides_ concerning the hoped-for concession in Morocco. He therefore pursued a rather injudicious policy of evasion. "I know no girl named Edna Manners," he replied. The old gentleman moved uneasily and grunted in dissatisfaction. "You did not tell me the truth last night concerning your disappearance," he said severely. "Why?" "The less known about my strange adventure the better, Mr Sandys," was the young man's reply. "Then you did have a curious adventure, eh? I've heard some rather strange rumours." "Rumours which I suppose are more or less true," Roddy admitted. "But, pardon me, Mr Sandys, the affair is now all over. I was ill at the time, but now I am quite well again, and I have no desire to recall the past. It upsets me. Therefore I know that you will forgive me." "Certainly, certainly, my dear young friend. I quite understand. I've heard that you've been suffering--well--from a nervous breakdown, they say. Denton had a specialist down to see you. Of course I'm wrong in trying to question you when you are not in a fit state. I admit it. It is I who should ask your forgiveness, Homfray." The young man smiled, glad to have extricated himself from a rather delicate situation. "There is nothing to forgive," he answered. "But one day, and very soon perhaps, I shall require your assistance, Homfray," the grey-bearded financier said, looking at him very earnestly. "I shall want you to help me to discover what has become of that young girl. You tell me you don't know. But perhaps you may be aware of facts which may give us a clue to what actually happened to her." Those words of his made it clear that it was not Elma who had told him about the tragic discovery in Welling Wood. He had learnt it from some other source--possibly from the current village gossip. In any case, Elma had not told her father the strange truth, and for that Roddy was indeed thankful. Those words of Purcell Sandys', however, struck him as very strange; certainly they showed that his questioner believed that he knew more about the mysterious Edna Manners--whoever she had been--than he had admitted. "I take it that you are deeply interested in the young lady who is missing?" Roddy remarked, hoping to elicit something concerning the girl, especially as Elma had the girl's photograph in her possession. "Yes, I am," was the other's abrupt reply. "She must be found--and at all hazards, for much depends upon it." "Where was she last seen?" "On the platform at Waterloo Station on a Sunday morning--the day when you also disappeared. She was with a gentleman whose description I have, and whom we must find. I have already a very reliable firm of private inquiry agents at work, and that much they have already discovered. Whether the pair took train from Waterloo is not known." And taking a paper from a drawer which he unlocked he read a minute description of a middle-aged, clean-shaven, well-dressed man, to which Roddy listened. "Ah!" he said at last. "I know of nobody who answers to that description." And he spoke the truth. The fact, however, that Elma's father had engaged detectives was rather perturbing. They might discover the secret of his love for Elma! That secret both were determined, for the present, to conceal. Half an hour later Roddy walked back along Lombard Street, that bustling thoroughfare of bankers and financiers, full of grave reflections. If he could only recollect what had happened during that period of half-oblivion, then he would be able to act with fearlessness and come to grips with his enemies. He remembered that on the previous night he had learnt where Freda Crisp lived--a house called Willowden, on the high road beyond Welwyn. Therefore after a sandwich at the refreshment bar at King's Cross station he took train, and half an hour later alighted at Welwyn station. Directed by a butcher's boy, he walked for about a mile along the broad high road until he came to the house--a large old-fashioned one standing back amid a clump of high fir trees, with a tennis lawn and large walled garden on the left. The green holland blinds were down, and apparently the place was temporarily closed, a fact which gave him courage to approach nearer. As he did so the chords of his memory began to vibrate. He could remember at last! He recollected quite distinctly walking on the lawn. In a flash it all came back to him! There was a gate which led into a small rose garden. He looked for it. Yes! There it was! And the grey old sundial! He recollected the quaint inscription upon it: "I mark ye Time; saye Gossip dost thou so." Yes, the weather-beaten old dial was there beside a lily pond with a pretty rock garden beyond. He stood peering eagerly through a crack in the old moss-grown oak fence, his vista being limited. But it sufficed to recall to his be-dimmed memory some details, sharp and outstanding, of the interior of that old Georgian house, its plan and its early Victorian furnishings. In the days he had spent there he had wandered aimlessly in and out. He knew that the two French windows, which he could see, opening on to a veranda and giving out upon the leaf-strewn lawn, were those of the drawing-room. The old-fashioned furniture he remembered was covered with glazed chintz with a design of great red roses and green peacocks. In the centre was a large settee upon which the Woman of Evil had often sat beside him, holding his hand and talking to him in domineering tones, while her elderly male companion sat in a high-backed "grandfather" chair beside the fire, smoking and smiling. Mostly, however, he had spent his time in an upstairs room which had once been a nursery, for it had iron bars at the window. His eyes sought that window--and he found it! Ah! in that room he had spent many dreary hours; his mind filled with weird and horrible visions--shadowy pictures which seemed bent on driving him to insanity. For fully a quarter of an hour he remained in the vicinity, his eyes strained on every side, and gradually recovering his normal memory. When, however, he tried to recall that night when he had acted under the overbearing influence of the woman Crisp he, alas! failed--failed utterly. Perhaps if he could get sight of the interior of the room in which he was victimised he might remember, but strive how he would all he could recall was but misty and unreal. At last he turned from the house, half-fearful lest his presence there might be known, yet gratified that the place was shut up. Had the woman and her companion left? Had they taken fright and flown? He walked back to the station, but ere he had arrived at King's Cross he found that his recollection was becoming fainter, until it was just as hazy as before. Only when his eyes were fixed upon the scene of his mysterious bondage did his memory return to him. Yet he had satisfactorily cleared up one important point. He had fixed the house to which he had been secretly conveyed. Had the girl Edna Manners been taken there also? Perhaps her body had afterwards been concealed. Recollection of his mysterious discovery caused him to shudder. The girl's appeal to him to save her still sounded in his ears, while the vision of that pale, still countenance often rose before him. Next day, and the next, he was busy purchasing the wireless set which he had promised to obtain for Mr Sandys--a seven-valve Marconi set with a "double note-magnifier," a microphone relay and a loud-speaking telephone. This, with coils taking every wavelength from one hundred to twenty-five thousand metres, completed one of the best and most sensitive sets that had been invented. Adjoining the morning-room in the east wing of Farncombe Towers was a small ante-room, and into this he proceeded to instal the apparatus, aided of course by Elma. Mr Sandys had gone to Paris to consult with his partner, therefore the young pair had the place to themselves. The local builder at Roddy's orders put up a mast upon the tower immediately above the room they had chosen, and the young man having constructed the double-line aerial a hundred feet long and put many insulators of both ebonite and porcelain at each end, the long twin wires were one morning hoisted to the pole, while the other end was secured in the top of a great Wellingtonia not far from the mansion. The lead-in cable, known to naval wireless men as the "cow-tail," was brought on to a well-insulated brass rod which passed through the window-frame and so on to the instruments, which Roddy set up neatly in an American roll-top desk as being convenient to exclude the dust. Making a wireless "earth" proved an amusing diversion to both. Elma, who had read a book about wireless, suggested soldering a wire to the water tap; but Roddy, who had bought his experience in wireless after many months and even years of experiment, replied: "Yes. That's all very well for an amateur `earth,' but we've put up a professional set, and we must make a real `earth.'" The real "earth" consisted, first, of digging three deep holes about four feet deep and three feet long under the aerial. This necessitated the use of a pickaxe borrowed from the head gardener, for they had to dig into chalk. Elma proved herself an enthusiastic excavator and very handy with the shovel, and after a heavy afternoon's work she wheeled a barrowful of coke from the palm-house furnace, and Roddy carefully placed a zinc plate in a perpendicular position into each hole and surrounded it with coke which, absorbing the moisture, would always keep the zinc damp, and hence make a good earth connexion. These three plates having been put in directly beneath the aerial wires, they were connected by soldered wires, and before darkness set in the earth-wire was brought in and connected up to the set. Afterwards, in order to make certain of his "earth"--usually one of the most neglected portions of a wireless installation, by the way--he took a large mat of fine copper gauze which he had bought in London, and soldering a lead to it spread it across the grass, also beneath the aerial. Elma watched it all in wonderment and in admiration of Roddy's scientific knowledge. She had read the elementary book upon wireless, but her lover, discarding the directions there set down, had put in things which she did not understand. "And now will it really work?" asked the girl, as together they stood in the little room where upon the oak writing-desk the various complicated-looking pieces of apparatus had been screwed down. "Let's try," said Roddy, screwing two pairs of head-'phones upon two brass terminals on one of the units of the apparatus. Elma took one pair of telephones, while Roddy placed the others over his ears. His deft fingers pulled over the aerial switch, whereupon the nine little tubular electric lights instantly glowed, each of them three inches long and about the size of a chemical test-tube. They gave quite a pretty effect. "Thanks, Cox!" came a voice, loud and distinct. "I could not get you clearly until now. I understand that your position is about half-way across the Channel and that visibility is rather bad. Le Bourget reported when you left. Righto! Croydon, switching off!" "Splendid!" Elma cried. "Just fancy, within a day you have fitted up wireless for us, so that we can actually hear telephony on the Paris airway!" "That was my friend Luger talking to the Paris-London mail-plane. Probably we'll have Tubby next." "Who's Tubby?" "Oh! The one-time boy scout who is an operator in the hut at Croydon aerodrome and who climbs the masts, fits the switch-board, and does all the odd jobs. Sometimes the jobs are very odd, for he makes the wheels go round when other people give it up. Listen again. The hour has just struck. Tubby may now come on duty." Again they placed the telephones over their ears, but beyond a few faint dots and dashes--"spark" signals from ships at sea and "harmonies" at that--there was nothing. The mysterious voice of Croydon was silent. Suddenly they heard a kind of wind whistle in the telephones, and another voice, rather high-pitched, said: "Hulloa! G.E.A.Y.! Hulloa, Cox! Croydon calling. Please give me your position. Croydon over." "That's Tubby," laughed Roddy. "I thought he'd come on duty for the last watch." "Marvellous!" declared the pretty girl, still listening intently. Then she heard a faint voice reply: "Hulloa, Croydon! G.E.A.Y. answering. I am just over Boulogne; visibility much better. Thanks, Tubby! Switching off." Roddy removed the telephones from his ears, and remarked: "I hope your father will be interested." "He will, I'm certain. It's topping," the girl declared, "but it's rather weird though." "Yes--to the uninitiated," he replied. Then, glancing at his wrist-watch, he said: "It's time that New Brunswick began to work with Carnarvon. Let us see if we can get the American station." He changed the small coils of wires for ones treble their size, and having adjusted them, they both listened again. "There he is!" Roddy exclaimed. "Sending his testing `V's' in Morse. Do you hear them--three shorts and one long?" In the 'phones the girl could hear them quite plainly, though the sending station was across the Atlantic. Then the signals stopped. Instantly the great Marconi station gave the signal "go." And Roddy, taking up a pencil, scribbled down the first message of the series, a commercial message addressed to a shipping firm in Liverpool from their New York agent concerning freights, followed, with scarce a pause, by a congratulatory message upon somebody's marriage--two persons named Gladwyn--and then a short Press message recording what the President had said in Congress an hour before. "They'll keep on all night," remarked Roddy, with a smile. "But so long as the set works, that's all I care about. I only hope your father will be satisfied that I've tried to do my best." "Really the marvels of wireless are unending!" Elma declared, looking into her lover's strong, manly face. "You said that the broadcast would come on at eight. Stay and have something to eat, and let us listen to it." "Ah! I'm afraid I'd--" "Afraid! Of course not!" she laughed merrily, and ringing the bell she told Hughes, who answered, that "Mr Homfray would stay to dinner." The latter proved a cosy tete-a-tete meal at which the old butler very discreetly left the young couple to themselves, and at eight they were back in the newly fitted wireless-room where, on taking up the telephones, they found that the concert broadcasted from London had already begun. A certain prima donna of world-wide fame was singing a selection from _Il Trovatore_, and into the room the singer's voice came perfectly. Roddy turned a switch, and instead of the music being received into the 'phones it came out through the horn of the "loud speaker," and could be heard as though the singer was actually in the house and not forty-five miles away. And they sat together for yet another hour enjoying the latest wonders of wireless. CHAPTER TWELVE. REX RUTHERFORD'S PROPHECY. At the Rectory Roddy sat in his own wireless-room until far into the night, fitting a complete wireless receiving-set into a small cigar-box. The one he had fitted into a tin tobacco-box was efficient in a sense, but the detector being a crystal it was not sufficiently sensitive to suit him. The one he was constructing was of his own design, with three valves--as the little wireless glow-lamps are called--the batteries and telephones being all contained in the box, which could easily be carried in the pocket together with a small coil of wire which could be strung up anywhere as an aerial, and as "earth" a lamp post, a pillar-box, or running water could be used. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning before he had finished assembling it, and prior to fixing it in the box he submitted it to a test. Opening the window of his wireless-room he threw the end of the coil of wire outside. Then going out into the moonlight, he took the ball insulator at the end of the wire and fixed it upon a nail he had driven in the wall of the gardener's potting-shed some time before. Then, having stretched the wire taut to the house, he went back and attached it to one of the terminal screws of the little set upon which he had been working for many days. The earth-wire of his experimental set he joined up, and then putting on the 'phones listened intently. Not a tick! He slowly turned the ebonite knob of the condenser, but to no avail. Raising the wavelength brought no better result. Was it yet another failure? As an experimenter in radio he was used to failures, so it never disheartened him. Failure in prospecting was the same as failure in wireless. He received each rebuff complacently, but with that air of dogged perseverance of which success is ever born. "Strange!" he remarked aloud. "It certainly should give signals." Then he examined the underside of the sheet of ebonite on which the various units were mounted, valves, condensers, etc, when at last he discovered a faulty connexion on the grid-leak. The latter will puzzle the uninitiated, but suffice it to say that so delicate is wireless receiving that over a line drawn by a lead pencil across paper or ebonite with a two-inch scratch in it filled with pencil dust the electric waves will travel. The connexion was not complete at one end. He tightened the little terminal, and suddenly came the expected high-pitched dots and dashes in the Morse code. "Ah! Stonehaven!" he remarked. Then, by turning the knob of the condenser, a sharp rippling sound was brought in--the automatic transmission from Cologne to Aldershot at seventy words a minute. Backwards and forwards he turned the condenser, and with a second knob altered the wavelength of his reception, first tuning in ships in the Channel signalling to their controlling station at Niton, in the Isle of Wight, or the North Foreland; then Leafield, in Oxfordshire, could be heard transmitting to Cairo, while Madrid was calling Ongar, and upon the highest wavelength the powerful Marconi station at Carnarvon was sending out a continuous stream of messages across the Atlantic. Suddenly, as he reduced his wavelength below six hundred metres, he heard a man's deep voice call: "Hulloa, 3.V.N. Hulloa! This is 3.A.Z. answering. What I said was the truth. You will understand. Tell me that you do. It is important and very urgent. 3.A.Z. changing over." Who 3.A.Z. was, or who 3.V.N., Roddy did not at the moment know without looking up the call-letters in his list of experimental stations. The voice was, however, very strong, and evidently high power was being used. He listened, and presently he heard a voice much fainter and evidently at a considerable distance, reply: "Hulloa, 3.A.Z. This is 3.V.N. answering. No, I could not get you quite clearly then. Remember, I am at Nice. Kindly now repeat your message on a thousand metres. 3.V.N. over." Quickly Roddy increased his wavelength to a thousand metres, which he swiftly tested with his wave-metre, a box-like apparatus with buzzer and little electric bulb. Suddenly through the ether came the words even more clearly than before: "Hulloa, 3.V.N. at Nice! Hulloa! This is 3.A.Z. repeating. I will repeat slowly. Please listen! 3.A.Z. repeating a message. Andrew Barclay leaves London to-morrow for Marseilles, where he will meet Mohamed Ben Azuz at the Hotel Louvre et Paix. Will you go to Marseilles? Please reply. 3.A.Z. over." Roddy held his breath. Who could possibly be warning somebody in the south of France of his friend Barclay's departure from Victoria to interview the Moorish Minister of the Interior regarding the concession? Again he listened, and yet again came the far-off voice, faint, though yet distinct: "3.V.N. calling 3.A.Z.! Thanks, I understand. Yes. I will go by next train to Marseilles. Is Freda coming? 3.V.N. over." "Yes. Freda will come if you wish it," replied the loud, hard voice. "3.A.Z. calling 3.V.N. Over." "Hulloa, 3.A.Z. From 3.V.N. Thanks. Shall expect Freda, but not by same train. Tell Jimmie to be on the alert. I'll explain to Freda when I see her. Good-night, old man. Good-bye. 3.V.N. closing down." Quickly Roddy searched his list of amateur call-signs, but he could not find either 3.A.Z. or 3.V.N. They were evidently false signs used by pre-arrangement, but by persons who, strangely enough, knew of his friend Barclay's journey on the morrow! And Freda? Could it be Freda Crisp who had been indicated? Why was she going south also--but not by the same train? After an hour's sleep young Homfray, much mystified, rose, dressed, and taking out his motorcycle, started up the long high road to London. On the platform at Victoria as early as half-past eight o'clock he awaited his friend Barclay. Presently he came, a ruddy, round-faced, rather short little man of fifty, who was a thoroughgoing cosmopolitan and who had dabbled in concessions in all parts of the world. "Hulloa, Homfray!" he exclaimed, looking at the muddy condition of his friend's motor clothes. "I didn't expect you to come to see me off." "No," replied the young man rather hesitatingly, "but the fact is I have come here to warn you." "Warn me! Of what?" asked his friend in surprise. Then Roddy explained, and repeated what the mysterious voice from the void had said. "Both speaker and listener were disguised under false call-signs," he went on. "Hence it is highly suspicious, and I felt it my duty to tell you." Andrew Barclay was puzzled. The porter was placing his bags in a first-class compartment of the boat train, which was crowded with people going holiday-making abroad. Loud-voiced society women commanded porters, and elderly men stalked along to the carriages following their piles of baggage. The eight-forty Paris service is usually crowded in summer and winter, for one gets to Paris by five, in time for a leisurely dinner and the series of trains which leave the Gare de Lyon in the region of nine o'clock. "Just repeat all you said, Roddy, will you?" asked the man in the heavy travelling coat. The young fellow did so. "Freda? That's a rather unusual name. Has it anything to do with that woman Freda Crisp you told me about? What do you think?" "I believe it has." Barclay was aware of all the strange experiences of the shrewd young mining engineer. Only three days after his return to Little Farncombe he had gone down to the quiet old country rectory and listened to his friend's story. In this concession to work the ancient mines in the Wad Sus he was equally interested with his young friend in whom he believed so implicitly, knowing how enthusiastic and therefore successful he had been in his prospecting expeditions up the Amazon. The big portable luggage-vans--those secured by wire hawsers which are slung on to the mail-boat and re-slung on to the Paris express--had been locked and sealed with lead, as they always are. The head guard's whistle blew, and Barclay was about to enter the train, when Roddy said: "Do take care! There's more in this than either of us suspect. That woman Crisp! Beware of her. You will see her in due course at your hotel. Be careful. Good-bye--and good luck!" The train moved out around the bend. The young fellow in his wet, muddy overalls stood for a moment gazing at the rear van. Should he watch for the departure of the woman? No. She might see him. Better that he should remain in apparent ignorance. So he went out, remounted his cycle, and headed away back over Putney Bridge and through crooked Kingston, Cobham, and down the steep hill in Guildford towards home. Freda! That name was burned into his brain like the brand of a red-hot iron. Freda--the woman who had held him beneath her strange, inexplicable spell during his bondage at the remote old country house near Welwyn. But why? Why should his father have warned him against her? His father, a most honest, upright, pious man to whom he had always looked for leadership--the road-builder to the perfect life, as he had always regarded him. No man in the world is perfect, but Norton Homfray had, to say the least, tried to live up to the standard laid down by the Holy Writ. Had he had faults in his past life, his son wondered? Every man has faults. Were those faults being concealed by his father--the "pater" upon whom he doted and to whom when away he wrote so regularly, with all his most intimate news, though mails might leave very intermittently, as they do from the back of beyond, where prospectors carry on their work with hammer and microscope. Then, as he rode along in the grey, damp winter morning, he reflected. The whole situation was most puzzling. He loved Elma with a fierce all-consuming affection. She was his only beacon in his eager, strenuous life. A week went by. He anxiously awaited news from Andrew Barclay, but the latter sent no word. He was, without doubt, negotiating with the Moorish Minister of the Interior, who was at that moment visiting France, and who was his personal friend. But Roddy could not rid himself of the recollection of that strange conversation by radio-telephone--the request that Freda should go south. He had taken another journey out to Welwyn in order to ascertain if the woman was still at Willowden, but had found the house still closed and apparently without a caretaker. Had he been able to get a view of the back of the premises he would, no doubt, have noticed the well-constructed wireless aerial, but it was completely hidden from the road, and as during his enforced sojourn in the place he had never seen it, he remained in ignorance of its existence. At Farncombe Towers Mr Sandys, when he returned home, had expressed himself highly delighted with the wireless set which the rector's son had installed, and on two successive evenings sat with Elma intensely interested in listening to broadcasted concerts and news. Three nights later Elma and her father, having been to the first night of a new revue, had had supper at the Savoy, and passing into the lounge, sat down to their coffee, when an elderly, clean-shaven, rather tall man, accompanied by a well-dressed, shorter, but good-looking companion, both in well-cut evening clothes, suddenly halted. "Hulloa, Harrison!" exclaimed the grey-bearded financier to the man who bowed before Elma and greeted her. "Not often we see you here, Mr Sandys!" replied the man, evidently surprised. Then he begged leave to introduce his companion, Mr Rex Rutherford. Elma smiled as the stranger expressed delight at meeting her father and herself. "Your name is very well known to me, as to everybody, Mr Sandys," said the dark-eyed man pleasantly, as they both took chairs which the financier offered them, at the same time ordering extra coffee. "Though I'm an American, I live mostly in Paris, and I met your partner, Sir Charles, there quite recently." "I shouldn't have thought you were an American," remarked Elma. "We in England expect every United States citizen to speak with an accent, you know." "Well, Miss Sandys, I suppose I'm one of the exceptions. My father and mother were British. Perhaps that accounts for it," he laughed, lighting a cigar. "Mr Rutherford is more of a Parisian than American, Miss Sandys," declared the man, Bertram Harrison. And then they began to chat about the new revue, which Elma described enthusiastically as a great success, while Rex Rutherford sat listening to her, evidently filled with admiration of her sweetness and remarkable beauty. Elma presently inquired of Mr Harrison if he had seen Mrs Crisp lately. "No. She's gone to Switzerland," was his reply. "I'm thinking of going across to Florida very soon to spend the winter at Palm Beach. I was there last year," remarked Rutherford. "Ever been there, Mr Sandys?" "Never," replied Elma's father. "I must try it one winter. I've heard so much about it. Are you in London for long?" "Only for a week or so on a matter of business. I'm at the Carlton, but I expect very soon to get back to Paris again." And so the conversation drifted on, both men well-bred and of charming manner, until the lights were lowered as sign that the restaurant was closing. The pair saw Mr Sandys and his daughter into their limousine, and then walked together along the Strand. "Well, how did it work?" asked the man Harrison eagerly. "Excellent," declared Gordon Gray, for it was he who had been introduced as Rex Rutherford. "We've taken a step in the right direction to-night. It only shows you what can be done by watchfulness. But, oh! the girl! Lovely, isn't she?" "Yes, but I hope, my dear Gordon, you're not going to lose your head to a woman! We've other fish to fry with the old man--remember!" "Lose my head to a woman!" cried Gray, halting beneath the street lamp and looking at him with his dark eyes. "No, my dear fellow, I never do that. It's the woman who loses her head to me! You told me once that she dances well, didn't you? Well, the day will come when she will dance to any tune that I choose to play!" CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE HIDDEN EAR. "No, Dick! A trifle farther this way," whispered Freda Crisp, who with a piece of string had been measuring the blank wall of the sparely-furnished hotel sitting-room. "Do you think so? I don't," replied a lean, well-dressed, rather striking-looking man of middle-age, who held in his hand a steel gimlet, nearly two feet in length, such as is used by electricians to bore holes through walls and floors to admit the passage of electric-lighting wires. "Slip out and measure again," urged the woman, who was wearing a simple blouse and a navy-blue skirt which looked rather shabby in the grey afternoon light. "It won't do to be much out." The man, whom she had addressed as Dick, carefully opened the door of the room a little way, peered out into the corridor, and waited. There being no sign of anyone stirring--for hotels are usually most quiet at about half-past three in the afternoon--he slipped out. He took the string and, stooping to the floor, measured from the lintel of the door to the dividing wall of the next room. Twice he did so, and then made a knot in the string, so that there should be no further mistake. On creeping back to where the woman awaited him, he said: "You were quite right, Freda. Now let's get to work." So saying, he again measured the distance from the door, being on his knees the while. Then, still on his knees and taking the long gimlet, he screwed it into the plaster and worked hard until the steel slowly entered the wall, driving a small hole through it and at the same time throwing out a quantity of white dust upon the floor. "It's through?" he exclaimed presently, and withdrawing the tool, placed his eye to the small round hole. "Excellent. Now we'll take the wires through." Again the man, Dick Allen, opened the door noiselessly, and creeping out with a coil of twin wires, unrolled it from his hand and, as he went down the corridor, placed it beneath the edge of the strip of thick green carpet, and into a sitting-room four doors along. He laid the two twisted wires still beneath the carpet, and carrying them behind a heavy settee, he took from his pocket what looked like a good-sized nickel-plated button. The front of it was, however, of mica, a tiny brass screw set in the centre. To it he carefully attached the fine silk-covered wires, tightening the screw securely. Then, taking a big safety-pin from his pocket, he attached the button to the back of the settee, where it was completely hidden. The microphone-button hung there as a hidden ear in that luxuriously-furnished room. When he returned to his companion he found that she had already driven in a tin-tack, around which she had twisted the two wires. To pass the wires beneath the door was impossible, as they would have to run over a long stretch of stone and somebody might trip over them. Afterwards she put on her hat and fur coat, and the pair left the big Hotel du Parc and strolled down the wide, bustling boulevard, the Rue Noailles, in that great city of commerce, Marseilles. The hotel they had left was not so large nor so popular as the great Louvre et Paix, which is perhaps one of the most cosmopolitan in all the world, but it was nevertheless well patronised. At the Louvre most travellers passing to and from India and the Far East stay the night, after landing or before embarking, so that it is an establishment with a purely cosmopolitan clientele. But the Parc was a quieter, though very aristocratic hotel, patronised by British peers and wealthy Americans on their way to the Riviera or the East, and also by foreign potentates when landing in Europe. The truth was that when the Moorish Minister of the Interior--the white-bearded old Moslem who had come over on an informal visit to the French President--arrived in Marseilles accommodation could not be found for him at the Louvre et Paix. So he had naturally gone to the Parc, where the best suite had been placed at his disposal by the officials at the Quai d'Orsay. News of this had reached Dick Allen on his arrival from Nice, and Freda, posing as an English society woman, had taken another suite for the purpose of keeping observation upon the old Moorish Minister, whom his English friend Barclay had arrived in Marseilles to visit. Already it was nearly five o'clock, so the woman Crisp and her companion strolled along to the big Cafe de l'Univers in the Cannebiere, where they sat outside over their _aperitifs_, well satisfied with their preparations. "When I dined at the Louvre et Paix last night I sat close to Barclay. The old Moor was with him, and I distinctly heard Barclay say that he would call at the Parc at nine to-night. The old Moor looks very picturesque in his native costume with his turban and his white burnous." "Marseilles is so cosmopolitan that one meets almost as many costumes here in the Cannebiere as on the Galata Bridge at Constantinople," laughed Freda. "Nobody here takes any notice of costume. Besides, all the Arab business men from Algeria and Tunis who come over wear the same Arab dress. In any other city they would be conspicuous, but not here." Dick Allen, a clever crook, by the way, who had been in many intricate little "affairs" as the accomplice of Gordon Gray, Porter, Claribut and Freda, remained silent for a moment or two. "A Moorish costume would be a jolly good disguise one day, wouldn't it? I've never thought of that before, Freda," he said. "Providing you knew a few words of Arabic and could speak French fairly well," the woman answered. "The first I could easily pick up. The second I can already do fairly well. Just a little staining of the face, hands and hair, and the transformation would be complete. I'll remember that for the future." "Yes, my dear Dick. One day it might be very handy--if the police were very hot on the track. You could pose as an Algerian fruit merchant, or something of the sort, while they'd be looking for the Englishman, Dick Allen?" Both laughed. Each had their reminiscences of being hard pressed and having to exercise their keenest wits to elude their pursuers. "What you've told me about that old parson in England rather worries me," said the man. "What can he know about Hugh?" "Nothing, my dear Dick. Don't worry. It's all bluff! Leave it to Gordon. He directs everything. He wriggled out in the past, and he'll do it again." "That's all very well. But I tell you I'm not so sure. Jimmie wrote to me the other day. The butler stunt at your house at Welwyn is all very well, but the game must be blown sooner or later. Believe me, Freda, it must?" "I know. But we're not staying at Willowden always." "But Gordon has his radio-telephone there. He talked to me on it to Nice the other night." "Yes. But we shall clear out at a moment's notice--when it becomes desirable, and the little local police sergeant--no, I beg his pardon, he's fat and red-faced and goes about on a push-bike--will be left guessing why the rich tenants of the big house have gone away on holidays. We've departed upon lots of holidays--haven't we, Dick? And we'll go once more! Each holiday brings us money--one holiday more or one less--what matters? And, after all, we who live with eyes skinned on people with money deserve all we get. England has now changed. Those stay-at-home cowards of the war have all the money, and poor people like ourselves deserve to touch it, if we can manage to lead them up the garden, eh?" And the handsome adventuress laughed merrily. "But surely our present game is not one against war profits?" the man remarked, during a lull in the blatant cafe orchestra. "No. We're up against saving ourselves--you and I and Gordon and Jimmie. Don't you realise that not a word must ever leak out about young Willard? Otherwise we shall all be right in the cart--jugged at once!" "I hope old Homfray knows nothing. What can he know?" "He may, of course, know something, Dick," the woman said in an altered voice. "If I had known what I do now I would never have been a party to taking his son Roddy away." She paused for a moment and looked straight at him. "We made a silly mistake--I'm certain of it. Gordon laughs at me. But Jimmie is of my opinion." "But can't we close the old man's mouth and trust to luck with his son? He'll become an idiot." "Gordon is bent upon getting this concession. So are you. So let us do what we can. The installation of that delicate microphone into the old Moor's room is a mark up to you." "It usually works. I've used it once or twice before. But let's hope for the best--eh, Freda?" "Yes," laughed the handsome woman carelessly--the adventuress who was so well known each winter at Cannes or at Monte Carlo, or in summer at Aix or Deauville. In the gayer cosmopolitan world Freda Crisp was known wherever smart society congregated to enjoy itself. The pair of crooks afterwards dined at that well-known restaurant the Basso-Bregaillon, on the Quai de la Fraternite, a place noted for its "bouillabaisse"--that thick fish soup with the laurel leaves and onions and coloured with saffron, which is the great delicacy of the city. Both Freda and her companion had been in Marseilles before upon other adventurous missions. Dick lived in Nice, and was really a secret agent for the blackmailing exploits of others concerning those who played at Monte Carlo when they were supposed to be at home attending to business or politics; or the wives of men who were detained by their affairs in Paris, New York, or London. Mr Richard Allen lived very quietly and respectably in his little white villa on the Corniche road. He was known everywhere along the Riviera from Hyeres to Mentone. That he was a wireless amateur many people also knew. But of his real and very lucrative profession of blackmail nobody ever dreamed. Yet of the women who flock to the Riviera each year who dreams that the nice amiable, middle-aged man whom one meets at hotels or at the Casino, and who may offer to dance, is a blackmailer? Ah! How many hundreds of the fair sex have in these post-war days been misled and, bemuddled by liqueurs, fallen into the clever trap laid for them by such blackguards? Blackmailers stand around the _tapis-vert_ on the Riviera in dozens. Nobody suspects them. But their victims are many, and their failures few. And of the vampires of the Cote d'Azur, Allen was one of the most successful--allied as he was with Gordon Gray, who, when necessity arose, supplied the sinews of war. Soon after half-past eight they were back in the private sitting-room at the hotel, and having locked the door, Allen set to work. Upon the table was a small dispatch-case, and from it he took a flat dry battery, such as is used in flash-lamps, and a pair of wireless telephone receivers. The battery and telephones being carefully attached to the wires, the man took one of the receivers and listened. The ticking of the clock in the adjoining room, hardly discernible to anyone even a few yards away, was now distinctly audible. No word was exchanged between the pair, for they were unaware whether anyone was already in the room. Suddenly Allen raised his finger and motioned to his companion to take the other receiver. This she did eagerly, when she heard the rustling of a newspaper, followed by a man's deep cough. The old Moor was already there, awaiting the Englishman. By means of the delicate microphone-button every sound was now magnified and conveyed from His Excellency's sitting-room to the ears of the listeners. The clock had already struck nine when presently the door opened and two men entered, greeting the Moorish Minister in French. One, who spoke French very badly, was Barclay. The conversation which ensued, believed by the three men to be in strictest secrecy, was highly interesting to the pair of listeners four rooms away. Little did they dream that behind that soft silk-covered settee hung the tiny transmitting-button, that little contrivance by which Allen had listened to private conversations many times before, conversations which had resulted in large sums being paid to him to ensure silence. The man who had accompanied the Englishman, Barclay, appeared from their deliberations to be the Kaid Ahmed-el-Hafid, one of the most powerful officials at Fez, and their discussion concerned the granting of the concession to prospect for precious stones in the Wad Sus valley. "And the name in which the concession is to be granted?" inquired His Excellency huskily in French. "The name is Roderick Charles Homfray," said Barclay. "I have it here written down. If your Excellency will have the document drawn up and sealed, my friend the Kaid will come over and meet me here or in Paris, or even in London." "In London," the Kaid suggested. "I have business there next month." "And it is distinctly understood that if gems be found and a company formed that I get one-eighth share?" asked the wily old Minister. "I have already assigned that to your Excellency," replied Barclay. "I think you and the Kaid know me well enough to trust me." "Of course we do, Monsieur Barclay," declared the Minister with a laugh. "Very well. It is fixed. I will, immediately on my return, grant the concession to this Monsieur--Monsieur Homfray, and hand it to the Kaid to bring to you." Then, after a pause, the patriarchal old Moor added in his hoarse voice: "Now that we have arrived at terms I have something here which will greatly facilitate Monsieur Homfray's search." "Have you?" cried Barclay eagerly. "What's that?" "When you sent me word in confidence some months ago about the ancient mines in the Wad Sus, I sent a trusty agent, one Ben Chaib Benuis, there to make secret inquiry. He is one of the Touareg--the brigands of the desert--and from his fellow-marauders he discovered the exact spot where the ancient workings are situated--a spot only known to those veiled nomads. They preserve the secret from the Arabs. Indeed, here I have not only a map giving the exact spot--roughly drawn though it is, yet giving the exact measurements and direction from the oasis of Raffi--but also one of the emeralds which my agent himself discovered. You see, it is still rough and uncut, yet is it not magnificent in size?" Both men drew deep breaths. The listeners could hear their surprise as the old Minister exhibited to them proof of the continued existence of the gems at the spot marked upon the map. "Now," went on the old man, "I will give you this map, Monsieur Barclay, but I will keep the emerald to repay myself for the expenses of my agent--eh? Be extremely careful of the map, and take all precautions for its safety, I beg of you. I have brought it over with me rather than trust it to others, Monsieur Barclay." "I thank your Excellency. It shall not leave my possession until I hand it, together with the concession, to young Homfray--who, I may say, is enthusiastic, resourceful and daring--just the go-ahead young man we require for such a hazardous venture." "And you will form a company in London to work the mines--eh?" the Kaid remarked. "That is our intention. We can find the money easier in London than in Paris, I think." "Yes, London," urged His Excellency. "I would prefer London. But," he added, "be careful of that map, Monsieur Barclay! It will be of greatest use to our young friend, whom I hope one day to see in Fez. I will then introduce him to Ben Chaib, who will obtain for him a safe conduct among the Touareg because they are always dangerous for strangers." "Even to ourselves," laughed the Kaid, and then added: "I will be in London on the tenth of next month. But I will write to you, Monsieur Barclay, giving you notice of my arrival." A quarter of an hour later the three men went forth together, while Freda, opening the door stealthily, saw their figures disappearing down the corridor. The Kaid was a tall, spare man in European clothes, but the Moorish Minister of the Interior was wearing his turban and flowing white burnous which spread about him as he walked. "Quick!" she whispered to her companion. "Slip in and get out the wires, while I detach them on this side." This he did, and, save the small hole through the wall, all traces of their ingenuity were swiftly removed. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE KEY TO A FORTUNE. "Here's five pounds now--and fifteen more when you give it back to me, my dear little girl. Only be sure it's the right one you take!" "But I--I really can't--I--" "Don't be a silly fool, Lily. I only want to play a practical joke on your master. I knew him a long time ago, and it will greatly surprise him. No harm will be done, I assure you. Surely you can trust me?" The girl Lily, well and neatly dressed, was a parlour-maid, while the man, also quite decently dressed, was somewhat older. The pair were at the moment standing at the corner of the street near Richmond Station, and it was already nearly ten o'clock at night, at which hour the girl had to be indoors. Three weeks before she had first met Mr Henry Elton. He had sat next to her in the cinema and had spoken to her. The result had been that he had taken her to tea on several evenings, and on her "day out," which had been the previous Friday, he had taken her on a char-a-banc to Bognor. He was not at all bad-looking, a solicitor's managing clerk, he told her, and she rather liked him for his quiet, subtle manner. But what he had asked her to do had greatly surprised her. He had promised her twenty pounds if she would press her master's little safe key into the tin matchbox filled with soft wax, and thus take an impression of it. Naturally she asked why. In reply he had explained that he and her master had, for years, been intimate friends, and that once in the club they had had a sharp discussion about safes and keys. Her master had declared that safe-makers made no two keys alike. And now he wanted to play a joke upon him and prove to him that they did. They had been chatting it over all that evening. The plea was certainly a thin one, but to Lily Lawson in her frame of mind, and with a gentleman as her sweetheart, it sounded quite plausible. "Of course, I rely upon you, Lily, never to give me away," he laughed. "I want to win the bet, and I'll give you half?" "Of course I won't," she answered, as they still stood there, the clock striking ten. "But I really ought not to do it?" "It isn't difficult. You say that he often leaves his keys on his dressing-table, and you know the little one which unlocks the safe in the basement." "Yes. It's quite a tiny key with the maker's name along the barrel of it." "Then all you have to do is to press it well into the wax, and there's fifteen pounds for you if you give the little box back to me to-morrow night. It's so easy--and twenty pounds will certainly be of use to you, now that your poor mother is so ill." The girl wavered. The man saw it and cleverly put further pressure upon her, by suggesting that with the money she could send her mother away for a change. "But is it really right?" she queried, raising her dark eyes to his. "Of course it is. It's only a joke, dear," he laughed. Again she was silent. "Well," she said at last. "I really must fly now." "And you'll do it, won't you?" he urged. "Well, if it's only a joke, yes. I'll--I'll try to do it." "At the usual place at nine to-morrow night--eh?" "All right," she replied, and hurried away, while the man lit a cigarette, well satisfied, and then turned into a bar to get a drink. The man was the blackmailer Richard Allen. During Andrew Barclay's journey home Allen and his woman accomplice had made a daring attempt to possess themselves of the valuable plan which had been given him by His Excellency. Barclay had broken his journey for a day in Paris, and had gone to the Grand Hotel. During his absence Allen had applied at the bureau for the key of the room--explaining that he was Mr Barclay's secretary--and had been given it. Instantly he went up and ransacked the Englishman's bags. But to his chagrin and annoyance the plan was not there. As a matter of fact Barclay had placed it in his pocket-book and carried it with him. Again, next day, as he disembarked from the Channel steamer at Folkestone, Freda stumbled against him and apologised, and while his attention was thus attracted Allen made an attempt to possess himself of his wallet. But in that he was unsuccessful. Therefore the pair, annoyed at their failure, had watched him enter the train for Victoria and for the moment gave up any further attempt. Thus it was that the man had contrived to get on friendly terms with Barclay's parlour-maid, who had told him that in the house her master had a safe built in the wall in the basement near the kitchen. In it the silver and other valuables were kept, together with a quantity of papers. No doubt the precious map was held there in safety, and for that reason they were endeavouring to obtain a cast of the key. It was after all a dangerous job, for the girl might very easily tell her master of the kind gentleman who had offered twenty pounds for the wherewithal to play a practical joke. And if so, then the police would no doubt be informed and watch would be kept. With that in view, Freda was next night idling near the spot arranged, close to where one buys "Maids of Honour," and though Allen was in the vicinity, he did not appear. At last the girl came and waited leisurely at the corner, whereupon after a few moments Freda approached her and said pleasantly: "You are waiting for Mr Elton, I believe?" "Yes, I am," replied the girl, much surprised. "He is sorry he can't be here. He had to go to the north this afternoon. He'll be back in a day or two. He gave me fifteen pounds to give to you for something. Have you got it?" "Yes," replied the girl. "Come along, madam, where it's dark and I'll give it to you." So they moved along together around a corner where they would not be observed, and in exchange for the three five-pound notes the girl handed the woman the little tin matchbox with the impression of a key in the wax. "You'll say nothing, of course," said Freda. "You've promised Mr Elton to say nothing." "Of course I won't say anything," laughed the girl. "The fact is, I've had a row with the housekeeper and have given in my notice. I leave this day week." This news was to the woman very reassuring. "You're quite certain you took the right key?" she asked. "Quite. I looked at the maker's name before I pressed it into the wax," she answered. "But I'd like to see Mr Elton again before I leave Richmond." "He'll be back in a couple of days, and then he will write to you. I'll tell him. Good-night, and thanks." And the woman with the little box in her muff moved away well satisfied. A quarter of an hour later she met Allen outside Richmond Station, and placing the little box in his hands, explained that the girl was leaving her place the following week. "Excellent! We'll delay our action until she's gone. I suppose I'd better see her before she goes, so as to allay any suspicion." Then, opening the box, his keen eye saw that the impression was undoubtedly one of a safe key. Indeed, next morning, he took it to a man in Clerkenwell who for years had made a speciality of cutting keys and asking no questions, and by the following night the means of opening the safe at Underhill Road was in Allen's hands. The man who lived by the blackmailing of those whom he entrapped--mostly women, by the way--was nothing if not wary, as was shown by the fact that he had sent Freda to act as his messenger. If the girl had told the police the woman could have at once declared that she had never seen the girl before, though if the little box had been found upon her, explanation would have been somewhat difficult. But the gang of which the exquisite adventurer Gordon Gray was the alert head always acted with forethought and circumspection; the real criminal keeping out of the way and lying "doggo" proof was always rendered as difficult as possible. Gray had gone over to Brussels, which accounted for Willowden being closed. He had a little piece of rather irritating business on hand there. Awkward inquiries by the police had led to the arrest of a man who had sent word in secret that if his wife were not paid two thousand pounds as hush-money, he would tell what he knew. And the wife being a low-class Belgian woman from Namur, Gray had gone over to see her and to appease her husband by paying the sum demanded. Crooks are not always straight towards each other. Sometimes thieves fall out, and when in difficulties or peril they blackmail each other-- often to the advantage of the police. Roddy and Barclay had met, the latter having told his young friend of the arrangements he had made with His Excellency and the Kaid, and also shown him the map which had been given to him. At sight of this the young fellow grew very excited. "Why, it gives us the exact location of the workings," he cried. "With this, a compass and measuring instruments I can discover the point straight away. The old man is no fool, evidently!" "No, the Moors are a clever and cultivated race, my dear Roddy," the elder man replied. "As soon as the Kaid brings over the necessary permits and the concession you can go ahead. I will keep the map in my safe till then, when I will hand all the documents over to you." This good news Roddy had told Elma one evening when they had met clandestinely--as they now so often met--at a spot not far from the lodge gates at Farncombe Towers. "How jolly lucky!" the girl cried. "Now you're only waiting for the proper permits to come. It's really most good of Mr Barclay to help you. He must be an awfully nice man." "Yes, he's a topper--one of the best," Roddy declared. "Out in South America he did me a good turn, and I tried to repay it. So we became friends. He's one of the few Englishmen who know the Moors and has their confidence. He's a bachelor, and a great traveller, but just now he's rented a furnished house in Richmond. He's one of those rolling stones one meets all over the world." The young man waxed enthusiastic. He loved Elma with all his heart, yet he wondered if his affection were reciprocated. She had mentioned to him the close friendship which had sprung up between her father and Mr Rex Rutherford, and how he had dined at Park Lane. But at the moment he never dreamed that her grace and beauty had attracted her father's newly-made friend. As for Roddy's father, he remained calm and reflective, as was his wont, visiting his parishioners, delivering his sermons on Sundays, and going the weary round of the village each day with a cheery face and kindly word for everybody. Nothing had been done concerning his property in Totnes as the woman Crisp had threatened. It was curious, he thought, and it was evident that the ultimatum he had given Gray had caused him to stay his hand. Yet as he sat alone he often wondered why Gray and that serpent woman should have so suddenly descended upon him, and upon Roddy, to wreak a vengeance that, after all, seemed mysterious and quite without motive. The hot blazing summer days were passing, when late one balmy breathless night--indeed it was two o'clock in the morning--a man dressed as a railway signalman, who had been on night duty, passed along Underhill Road, in Richmond, and halted near the pillar-box. Underhill Road was one of the quieter and more select thoroughfares of that picturesque suburb, for from the windows of the houses glorious views could be obtained across the sloping Terrace Gardens and the wide valley of the Thames towards Teddington and Kingston. A constable had, with slow tread, passed along a few moments before, but the signalman, who wore rubber-soled black tennis shoes, had followed without noise. The watcher, who was Dick Allen, saw the man in uniform turn the corner under the lamplight and disappear. Then slipping swiftly along to a good-sized detached house which stood back from the road in its small garden, he entered the gate and dived quickly down to the basement-- which, by the way, he had already well surveyed in the daytime. Before a window he halted, and turning upon it a small flash-lamp, inserted a knife into the sash and pressed back the latch in a manner that was certainly professional. Having lifted the sash he sprang inside and, guided by the particulars he had learnt from the maid Lily, he soon discovered the door of the safe, which was let into the wall in a stone passage leading from the kitchen to the coal-cellar. He halted to listen. There was no sound. The little round zone of bright light fell upon the brass flap over the keyhole of the dark-green painted door of the safe, wherein reposed the secret of the rich emerald mine in the great Sahara Desert. He took the bright little false key, which was already well oiled, and lifting the flap inserted it. It turned easily. Then he turned the brass handle, which also yielded. He drew the heavy door towards him and the safe stood open! The little light revealed three steel drawers. The first which he opened in eager haste contained a number of little canvas bags, each sealed up. They contained specimens of ore from various mines in Peru and Ecuador. Each bore a tab with its contents described. In the next were several pieces of valuable old silver, while the third contained papers--a quantity of documents secured by elastic bands. These he turned over hurriedly, and yet with care so as not to allow the owner to suspect that they had been disturbed. For some time he searched, until suddenly he came upon an envelope bearing upon its flap the address of the Hotel du Parc at Marseilles. It was not stuck down. He opened it--and there he found the precious map which showed the exact position of the ancient Wad Sus mine! For a few seconds he held it in his hands in supreme delight. Then, taking from his pocket a blank piece of folded paper he put it into the envelope, and replacing it among the other documents which he arranged just as he had found them, he closed the safe and relocked it. A second later he stole noiselessly out by the way he had come, the only evidence of his presence being the fact that the window was left unfastened, a fact which his friend Lily's successor would, he felt sure, never notice. But as, having slowly drawn down the window, he turned to ascend the steps a very strange and disconcerting incident occurred. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. THE MASTER-STROKE. Mr Richard Allen found himself, ere he was aware of it, in the strong grip of a burly police constable. "And what 'ave you been up to 'ere--eh?" demanded the officer, who had gripped him tightly by the coat collar and arm. "Nothing," replied Allen. "I fancy you've made a mistake!" "I fancy I 'aven't," was the constable's reply. "You'll 'ave to come to the station with me." "Well, do as you please," said Allen with an air of nonchalance. "I've done nothing." "I'm not so sure about it. We'll see what you've done when you're safely in the cells." Cells! Mr Richard Allen had already had a taste of those--on more than one occasion--both in England and abroad. It was, after all, very humiliating to one of his high caste in crookdom to be arrested like a mere area sneak. "I don't see why I should be put to the inconvenience of going to the station," the cosmopolitan remarked. "Well, I do, mister, so there's all the difference!" replied the other grimly, his eyes and ears on the alert to hail one of his comrades, a fact which the astute Mr Allen did not fail to realise. The situation was distinctly awkward, not to say alarming, for in his pocket he had the precious map. Suddenly they were about to turn the corner into the main road when the prisoner, who had gone along quite quietly, even inertly, quickly swung round and snatched at the policeman's whistle, breaking it from its chain and throwing it away. It was done in a moment, and next second with a deft movement he tripped up his captor, and both fell heavily to the pavement. He had taken the constable unawares, before he could realise that he had a slippery customer to deal with. The constable, however, would not release his hold, with the result that they rolled struggling into the gutter, the policeman shouting for assistance. A man's voice answered in the distance, whereupon Allen's right hand went to his jacket pocket, and then swiftly to the face of his captor, who almost instantly relaxed his hold as he fell into unconsciousness. The prisoner had held a small capsule in his captor's face and smashed it in his fingers, thus releasing an asphyxiating gas of sufficient potency to render the constable insensible. Quick as lightning Allen disengaged himself, and dragging the senseless man across the pavement into the front garden of a small house exactly opposite, closed the gate, picked up his hat, and then walked quietly on as though nothing had occurred. As he turned the corner he came face to face with another constable who was hurrying up. "Did you hear my mate shouting a moment ago, sir?" asked the man breathlessly. "No," replied Allen halting. "I heard no shouting. When?" "A few moments ago. The shouts came from this direction. He was crying for help." "Well, I heard nothing," declared Allen, still standing as the constable, proceeding, passed the gate behind which his colleague lay hidden. Then Allen laughed softly to himself and set out on the high road which led to Kingston. "A narrow shave!" he remarked to himself aloud. "I wonder what Barclay will say when they go to Underhill Road!" Not until eight o'clock in the morning did a milkman going his round find the constable lying as though asleep in the little front garden. He tried to rouse him, but not being able to do so, called the nearest policeman who summoned the ambulance. At first the inspector thought the man intoxicated, but the divisional surgeon pronounced that he had been gassed, and it was several hours later, when in the hospital, that he managed to give an intelligible account of what had occurred. About noon an inspector called upon Mr Barclay at Underhill Road, but he had gone out. "Did you find any of your basement windows open when you got up this morning?" he asked the housekeeper, who replied in the negative. Then the new parlour-maid being called declared that she had fastened all the windows securely before retiring, and that they were all shut when she came down at seven o'clock. The inspector went away, but in the evening he called, saw Mr Barclay, and told him how a man lurking against the kitchen window had been captured, and explained that he must be a well-known and desperate thief because of the subtle means he had in his possession to overcome his captors. "My servants have told me about it. But as they say the windows were fastened the man could not have committed a burglary," replied Mr Barclay. "The house was quite in order this morning." "But it is evident that the fellow, whoever he was, meant mischief, sir." "Probably. But he didn't succeed, which is fortunate for me!" the other laughed. "Well, sir, have you anything particularly valuable on the premises here? If so, we'll have special watch kept," the inspector said. "Nothing beyond the ordinary. I've got a safe down below--a very good one because the man who had this house before me was a diamond dealer, with offices in the City, and he often kept some of his stock here. Come and look at it." Both men went below, and Mr Barclay showed the inspector the heavy steel door. The inspector examined the keyhole, but there were no traces of the lock having been tampered with. On the contrary, all was in such complete order that Mr Barclay did not even open the safe. "It's rather a pity the fellow got away," Mr Barclay remarked. "It is, sir--a thousand pities. But according to the description given of him by Barnes--who is one of the sharpest men in our division--we believe it to be a man named Hamilton Layton, a well-known burglar who works alone, and who has been many times convicted. A constable in Sunderland was attacked by him last winter in an almost identical manner." The inspector made a thorough search of the basement premises, and again questioned the fair-haired parlour-maid who was Lily's successor. She vowed that she had latched all the windows, though within herself she feared that she had overlooked the fact that one of the windows was unlatched in the morning. Yet what was the use of confessing it, she thought. So there being no trace of any intruder, the inspector walked back to the station, while Mr Barclay smiled at the great hubbub, little dreaming that in place of that precious map there reposed in the envelope only a plain piece of paper. That afternoon Dick Allen arrived at Willowden. Gray was away motoring in Scotland, where he had some little "business" of the usual shady character to attend to. Freda had gone to Hatfield, and it was an hour before she returned. During that hour Allen smoked and read in the pretty summerhouse at the end of the old-world garden, so full of climbing roses and gay borders. Suddenly he heard her voice, and looking up from his paper saw her in a big hat and filmy lemon-coloured gown. He waved to her, rose, and met her at the French window of the old-fashioned dining-room. "Well?" she asked. "What luck, Dick? I worried a lot about you last night. I felt somehow that you'd had an accident and to-day--I don't know how it was--I became filled with apprehension and had to go out. I'm much relieved to see you. What's happened?" "Nothing, my dear Freda," laughed the good-looking scoundrel. "There was just a little _contretemps_--that's all." "Have you got the map?" "Sure," he laughed. "Ah! When you go out to get a thing you never fail to bring it home," she said, with a smile. "You're just like Gordon. You've both got the impudence of the very devil himself." "And so have you, Freda," laughed her companion, as he stretched himself upon the sofa. "But the little reverse I had in the early hours of this morning was--well, I admit it--rather disturbing. The fact is that on leaving the house in Richmond a constable collared me. He became nasty, so I was nastier still, and gave him a Number Two right up his nose. And you know what that means!" "Yes," said the woman. "He won't speak much for eight hours or so. I expect he saw the red light, eh?" "No doubt. But I've got the little map here, and Barclay retains a sheet of blank paper." "Splendid!" Then he drew it from his pocket and showed it to her. "Oh! won't Gordon be delighted to get this!" she cried. "It will gladden his heart. The dear boy is a bit down, and wants bucking up." "Where's Jimmie?" asked Allen. "Tell him to get me a drink. I suppose he's back by this time?" The handsome woman in the lemon-coloured gown rose and rang the bell, and old Claribut, servile and dignified, entered. "Hulloa! Dick!" he exclaimed. "Why, where have you sprung from? I thought you were in Nice!" "So I was. But I'm in Welwyn now, and I want one of your very best cocktails--and one for Freda also." The old man retired and presently brought two drinks upon a silver salver. "I shan't be in to dinner to-night, Jimmie. I'm motoring Dick to London presently. I'll be home about midnight. But I'll take the key. Any news?" "Nothing, madam," replied the perfectly-mannered butler. "Only the gas-man came this morning, and the parson called and left some handbills about the Sunday school treat you are going to give next Thursday." "Oh! yes, I forgot about that infernal treat! See about it, Jimmie, and order the stuff and the marquee to be put up out in the field. See Jackson, the schoolmaster; he'll help you. Say I'm busy." "Very well, madam." "Well!" laughed Allen, "so you are acting the great lady of the village now, Freda!" "Of course. It impresses these people, and it only costs a few cups of tea and a few subscriptions. Gordon thinks it policy, but, by Jove! how I hate it all. Oh! you should see Gordon on a Sunday morning in his new hat and gloves. He's really a spectacle!" "Ah! I suppose a reputation is judicious out here," her companion laughed. "Yes. But I'll drive you back to town," she said. "We'll dine at the Ritz. I want to meet a woman there. Wait a minute or two while I change my frock. I think you've done wonders to get hold of that map. Gordon will be most excited. He'll be in Inverness to-morrow, and I'll wire to him." "Guardedly," he urged. "Why, of course," she laughed. "But that poor old bobby with a dose of Number Two! I bet he's feeling pretty rotten!" "It was the only way," declared the cosmopolitan adventurer. "I wasn't going to be hauled to the station and lose the map." "Of course not. Well, have another drink and wait a few minutes," the woman said, whereupon he began to chat with old Claribut. "I suppose the Riviera looks a bit hot and dusty just now," remarked Jimmie, the butler. "Yes. But Freda's a wonder, isn't she?" remarked Allen. "I've been asking her about that girl Edna. What has become of her?" "I don't know, Dick. So don't ask me," Claribut answered, as he smoked one of Gordon's cigars. Truly that was a strange menage. "But surely you know something," Allen said. "No, I don't," snapped old Jimmie. "Ah! you know something--something very private, eh?" remarked the wily Dick. "I suppose you are aware that old Sandys has a firm of inquiry agents out looking for her?" "Has he really?" laughed Claribut. "Well, then let them find her. Who has he called in?" "Fuller--who used to be at the Yard. You recollect him. He had you once, so you'd better be careful." "Yes, he had me for passing bad notes in Brussels," remarked the old man grimly. "So old Sandys is employing him?" "Yes, and the old man is determined to know the whereabouts of Edna Manners." "I don't think he'll ever know. But how came you to know about it?" "I have a pal who is a friend of Fuller's--Jack Shawford. He told me. Sandys suspects that something serious has happened to the girl." At this Claribut became very grave. "What makes him suspect it? He surely doesn't know that the girl was acquainted with that old parson Homfray!" "No. I don't think so," was the reply. "Ah! That's good. If he had any suspicion of that, then Fuller might get on the right track, you know, because of this mining concession in Morocco." "What connexion has that with the disappearance of the pretty Edna?" asked his fellow crook, in ignorance. "Oh! it's a complicated affair, and it would take a long time to explain--but it _has_!" "Then you know all about Edna and what has happened! I see it in your face, Jimmie! Just tell me in confidence." But the wary old man who had spent many years in prison cells only smiled and shook his head. "I don't interfere with other people's affairs, Dick. You know that. I've enough to do to look after my own." "_But where is Edna_? Is she--dead?" The old man merely shrugged his shoulders with a gesture of uncertainty and ignorance. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. THE LIGHT OF LOVE. It had been all summer--endless, cloudless summer in England, from the time of the violets to the now ripening corn. And there was no foreboding of storm or winter in the air that glorious day. It was yet quite early in the morning, and high on the Hog's Back, that ridge of the Surrey Hills that runs from Farnham towards Guildford, the gentle coolness of daybreak had not left the air. Roddy and Elma had met for an early morning walk, she being again alone at the Towers. They had been walking across the fields and woods for an hour, and were now high up upon the hill which on one side gave views far away to the misty valley of the Thames, and on the other to Hindhead and the South Downs. The hill rose steep and sombre, its sides dark with chestnut woods, and all about them the fields were golden with the harvest. They were tired with their walk, so they threw themselves down upon the grassy hillside and gazed away across the wide vista of hills and woodlands. "How glorious it is!" declared the girl, looking fresh and sweet in a white frock and wide-brimmed summer hat trimmed with a saxe-blue scarf. "Delightful! This walk is worth getting up early to take!" he remarked with soft love laughter, looking into her wonderful eyes that at the moment were fixed in fascination upon the scene. Since that day months ago when he had declared his affection, he had never spoken directly of love, but only uttered it in those divers ways and words, those charms of touch and elegance of grace which are love's subtlest, truest, and most perilous language. Slowly, as she turned her beautiful eyes to his, he took her soft little hand, raising it gallantly to his lips. "Elma," he said after a long silence, "I have brought you here to tell you something--something that perhaps I ought to leave unsaid." "What?" she asked with sudden interest, her eyes opening widely. "I want to say that I dislike your friend Mr Rutherford," he blurted forth. "Mr Rutherford!" she echoed. "He is father's friend--not mine!" "When I was at Park Lane the other night I noticed the marked attention he paid you--how he--" "Oh! you are awfully foolish, Mr Homfray--Roddy! He surely pays me no attention." "You did not notice it, but I did!" cried the young man, whose heart was torn by fierce jealousy. "Well, if he did, then I am certainly quite unaware of it." His hand closed fast and warm upon hers. "Ah!" he cried, his eyes seeking hers with eager wistfulness, "I do not wonder. Once I should have wondered, but now--I understand. He is rich," he said softly and very sadly. "And, after all, I am only an adventurer." "What are you saying?" cried the girl. "I know the truth," he replied bitterly. "If you ever loved me you would one day repent, for I have nothing to offer you, Elma. I ought to be content with my life--it is good enough in its way, though nameless and fruitless also, perhaps. Yes, it is foolish of me to object to the attentions which Mr Rutherford pays you. He returned from Paris specially last Wednesday to be at your party." "I cannot understand!" she declared. "I do not want to understand! You are foolish, Roddy. I have no liking for Mr Rutherford. None whatever!" "Are you quite certain of that?" he cried, again looking eagerly into her face with a fierce expression such as she had never seen before upon his handsome countenance. "I am, Roddy," she whispered. "And you really love me?" "I do," she whispered again. "I shall be content anyhow, anywhere, any time--_always_--with you!" He let go her hands--for him, almost roughly--and rose quickly to his feet, and silently paced to and fro under the high hedgerow. His straw hat was down over his eyes. He brushed and trampled the wild flowers ruthlessly as he went. She could not tell what moved him--anger or pain. She loved him well--loved him with all the simple ardour and fierce affection of one of her young years. After all, she was not much more than a child, and had never before conceived a real affection for any living thing. She had not yet experienced that affinity which comes of maturer years, that subtle sympathy, that perfect passion and patience which alone enable one heart to feel each pang or each joy that makes another beat. Roddy's moods were often as changeful as the wind, while at times he was restless, impatient and depressed--perhaps when his wireless experiments gave no result. But it was often beyond her understanding. Seeing him so perturbed, Elma wondered whether, in her confession of affection, she had said anything wrong. Was he, after all, growing tired of her? Had that sudden fit of jealousy been assumed on purpose to effect a breach? She did not go to him. She still sat idly among the grasses. A military aeroplane from Farnborough was circling overhead, and she watched it blankly. After a little while her lover mastered whatever emotion had been aroused within him, and came back to her. He spoke in his old caressing manner, even if a little colder than before. "Forgive me, dearest," he said softly. "I--I was jealous of that man Rutherford. That you really love me has brought to me a great and unbounded joy. No shadow has power to rest upon me to-day. But I--I somehow fear the future--I fear that yours would be but a sorry mode of existence with me. As I have said, my profession is merely that of a traveller and adventurer. Fortune may come in my way--but probably not. We cannot all be like the Italian beggar who bought the great Zuroff diamond--one of the finest stones in existence--for two soldi from a rag-dealer in the Mercato Vecchio in Ravenna." "You have your fortune to make, Roddy," she said trustfully, taking his hand. "And you will make it. Keep a stout heart, and act with that great courage which you always possess." "I am disheartened," he said. "Disheartened! Why?" "Because of the mystery--because of these strange mental attacks, this loss of memory to which I am so often subject. I feel that before I can go farther I must clear up the mystery of those lost days--clear myself." "Of what?" she asked, his hand still in hers. "Of what that woman made me--compelled me to do," he said in a harsh, broken voice. He had not told her he had discovered where he had been taken. He felt that he was always disbelieved. "Now, Roddy, listen!" she cried, jumping up. "I believe that it is all hallucination on your part. You were kept prisoner at that house--as you have explained--but beyond that I believe that, your brain being affected by the injection the devils gave to you, you have imagined certain things." "But I did not imagine the finding of Edna Manners!" he cried. "Surely you believe me!" "Of course I do, dear," she said softly. "Then why do you not tell who she was? At least let me clear up one point of the mystery." "Unfortunately I am not allowed to say anything. My father has forbidden it." "But what has your father to do with it? I know he has put the matter into the hands of ex-inspector Fuller. But why?" "Father knows. I do not." "But he told me that much depended upon discovering her," said her lover. "Why does he search when I know that she died in my arms?" "You have never told him so. He wishes to obtain proof of whether she is dead, I think," said the girl. "Why?" "That I cannot tell. He has his own motives, I suppose. I never dare ask him. It is a subject I cannot mention." "Why?" "He forbade me ever to utter Edna's name," she replied slowly. "That is very curious, when he told me that he must find her. And he employed the famous Fuller to search for trace of her. But," he added, "trace they will never find, for she is dead. If I told him so he would certainly not believe me. They all think that I am half demented, and imagine weird things!" And he drew a long breath full of bitterness. "Never mind," she said. "It would be infamous to be melancholy, or athirst for great diamonds on such a glorious day." "True, my darling, true!" he said. "Let us sit down again. There! Lean back so as to be in the shade, and give me your hand. Now I want to kiss you." And taking her in his warm embrace, he rained kisses upon her full red lips in wild ecstasy, with low murmurs of love that were sweet in the young girl's ears, while she, on her part, reclined in his arms without raising protest or trying to disengage herself from his strong clasp. "I love you, Elma!" he cried. "That you have no thought for that man Rutherford who danced with you so many times on Wednesday night, who took you into supper and laughed so gaily with you, has greatly relieved me. I know I am poor, but I will do my very utmost to make good and to be worthy of your love." Again his lips met hers in a long, passionate caress. For both of them the world was nonexistent at that moment, and then, for the first time, her pretty lips pressed hard against his and he felt one long, fierce and affectionate kiss. He knew that she was his at last! Half an hour later, as they went down the steep hill and across the beautiful wooded country towards Haslemere, Roddy Homfray trod on air. For him the face of the world had suddenly changed. Theirs was a perfect peace and gladness in that morning of late summer. Elma, on her part, needed nothing more than the joy of the moment, and whatever darkness her lover may have seen in the future was all sunlight to her. Roddy's glad smile was for her all-sufficient. That day surely no shadow could fall between them and the sun! As they walked along, Roddy suddenly exclaimed: "What fools are clever folk!" Surely his hours of melancholy had not returned, she thought. "Why?" she asked. "Because my enemies--my unknown mysterious enemies--your enemies--are fools, Elma, my darling." And then perhaps for a moment they caught sight of each other's souls. "Perhaps they are. But we must both be guarded against them," the girl said as he walked beside her. "Guarded! Yes, Poor Edna has fallen their victim. Next, my darling, it might be you yourself! But of the motive I can discern nothing." "I! What have I done?" cried the girl, looking straight at him. "No, surely I can have no enemies." "We all have enemies, darling. Ah! you do not yet realise that in our life to-day falsehoods are daily food and that a lie is small coinage in which the interchange of the world, francs, marks, dollars, or diplomacy, is carried on to the equal convenience of us all. Lying lips are no longer an abomination. They are part of our daily existence." "You are horribly philosophic, Roddy!" she said with a laugh. "But I quite understand that it is so. The scandals in politics and in society prove it every day." "Yes. And let us--both of us--now that we love each other, be forewarned of the mysterious evil that threatens." "How?" "I can't tell. Yet I have a vague premonition that though the sun shines to-day, that all is bright and glorious, and that the clear horizon of our lives is speckless, yet very soon a darkness will arise to obscure further the mystery of that night in Welling Wood." "I sincerely hope not. Let us leave the affair to Inspector Fuller," said Elma. "He was down to see my father the night before last. I do not know what was said. I left them together in the library when I went to bed." "You heard nothing?" "Only as I came in I heard Fuller mention the name of your friend Andrew Barclay, who has gone to Marseilles to see the Moorish Minister." "Yes, Barclay is certainly my friend. But how could the detective have possibly known that?" "Detectives are strangely inquisitive people," remarked the girl, as hand in hand they went down the hill. "That is so. And I only hope Mr Fuller will discover the truth concerning poor Edna Manners. Ah! I recollect it all so well. And yet the recollection goes giddily round and round and round in a sickening whirl of colour before my blinded eyes. It is all horrible! And it is all hideous and incredible. She died! I dashed to raise the alarm--and then I know no more! All I recollect is that I grovelled, frightened, sobbing! I saw the shimmering of sun-rays through the darkness of leaves. I was in a strange garden and it was day! And always since, whenever I have closed my eyes, I can see it still!" "No, Roddy," she urged. "Try to put it all aside. Try not to think of it!" "But I can't forget it!" he cried, covering his face with his hands. "I can't--I can't--it is all so terrible--horrible." In sympathy the girl took his arm. Her touch aroused him. Of a sudden all the strength of his being came to his aid. "Forgive me, darling! Forgive me!" he craved. And together they crossed the low old stile into the road which led down through a quaint little village, and out on the way to Haslemere. On that same morning at noon Richard Allen again stood in the dining-room at Willowden, when Gordon Gray, alias Rex Rutherford, entered. He was in a light motor-coat, having just returned from his tour to Scotland. "Well, Dick!" he cried cheerily in that easy, good-humoured way of his, that cheerful mannerism by which he made so many friends. "So you've had luck--eh?" "Yes, after a narrow escape. Got caught, and had to fight a way out," laughed the other. "Not the first time. Do you recollect that night in Cannes two years ago? By Jove! I thought we were done." "Don't let's talk of nasty things," his friend said. "Here's the precious little map--the secret of the Wad Sus mines." "Splendid!" cried Gray, taking the small piece of folded paper to the window. "By Jove! it gives exact measurements in metres, and minute directions." "Yes. And the old Minister has in his possession a great emerald taken from the ancient workings." "We ought to get that. It will show _bona fides_ when we deal with the concession. It would be better to buy it than to get it by other means. If it were stolen there would be a hue-and-cry raised. But if we could get it honestly--honestly, mark you, Dick!--we could get the official certificate saying where and when it was found." "True!" remarked Allen, who chanced to be standing near the window and whose attention had suddenly been attracted by a movement in the bushes on the opposite side of the lawn. "But don't move, Gordon!" he cried quickly. "Keep quiet! Don't show yourself! Get back behind the curtains. There's somebody over in the bushes yonder, watching the window! Just by the yew-tree there. Watch!" In an instant Gordon Gray was on the alert. For some moments both men stood with bated breath, watching eagerly. Suddenly the figure moved and a ray of sunlight revealed a woman's face. "By Gad! Dick! Yes, I've seen that woman somewhere before! What can be her game? She's evidently taking observations! Call Freda and Jimmie, quick! We must all get out of this at once! There's not a second to lose! _Quick_!" CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. THE EARS OF THE BLIND. The discovery of the watcher at Willowden was most disconcerting to Gray and his accomplices. They recognised the stranger as a person who had once kept observation upon them in London two years before, and now saw to their dismay that their headquarters had been discovered. So that night Gray and Claribut worked hard in frantic haste and dismantled the wireless installation, which they packed in boxes, while Freda eagerly collected her own belongings. Then making sure that they were not still being watched they stowed the boxes in the car, and creeping forth sped rapidly away along the Great North Road. "I don't like the look of things?" Gray muttered to Freda, who sat beside him. "We've only got away in the nick of time. The police might have been upon us before morning. We'll have to be extremely careful." And then a silence fell between them as they drove through the pelting rain. Once again they had wriggled out of an awkward situation. At a first-floor window of an ancient half-timbered house in a narrow, dingy street behind the cathedral in quaint old Bayeux, in Normandy, a pretty, fair-haired young girl was silting in the sunshine, her hands lying idly in her lap. It was noon. The ill-paved street below--a street of sixteenth-century houses with heavy carved woodwork and quaint gables--was deserted, as the great bell of the magnificent old cathedral, built by Odo, the bishop, after the Norman Conquest of Britain, boomed forth the hour of twelve. The girl did not move or speak. She seldom did, because first, her blue eyes were fixed and sightless, and, secondly, she was always strange of manner. Jean Nicole, the boot-repairer, and his wife, with whom the girl lived, were honest country folk of Normandy. Both came from Vaubadon, a remote little village on the road to St Lo. After the war they had moved to Bayeux, when one day they chanced to see an advertisement in the _Ouest Eclair_, an advertisement inviting a trustworthy married couple to take charge of a young lady who was slightly mentally deficient, and offering a good recompense. They answered the advertisement, with the result that they were invited to the Hotel de l'Univers at St Malo, where the worthy pair were shown up to a private sitting-room wherein sat a well-dressed Englishman and a smartly-attired woman, his wife. They explained that they had been left in charge of the young lady in question, who was unfortunately blind. Her father's sudden death, by accident, had so preyed upon her mind that it had become deranged. The man, who gave the name of Mr Hugh Ford, explained that he and his wife were sailing from Havre to New York on business on the following Saturday, and they required someone to look after the unfortunate young lady during their absence. Would Monsieur and Madame Nicole do so? The boot-repairer and his stout spouse, eager to increase their income, expressed their readiness, and within an hour arrangements were made, an agreement drawn up by which the pair were to receive from a bank in Paris a certain monthly sum for mademoiselle's maintenance, and the young lady was introduced to them. Her affliction of blindness was pitiable. Her eyes seemed fixed as she groped her way across the room, and it was with difficulty that her guardian made her understand that she was going to live with new friends. At last she uttered two words only in English. "I understand." The middle-aged Frenchman and his wife knew no English, while it seemed that the young lady knew no French. "Her name is Betty Grayson," explained Mr Ford, speaking in French. "She seldom speaks. Yet at times she will, perhaps, become talkative, and will probably tell you in English some absurd story or other, always highly dramatic, about some terrible crime. But, as I tell you, Monsieur Nicole, her mind is unhinged, poor girl! So take no notice of her fantastic imagination." "_Tres bien, monsieur_," replied the dark-faced boot-repairer. "I quite follow. Poor mademoiselle!" "Yes. Her affliction is terribly unfortunate. You see her condition-- quite hopeless, alas! She must have complete mental rest. To be in the presence of people unduly excites her, therefore it is best to keep her indoors as much as possible. And when she goes out, let it be at night when nobody is about." "I understand, monsieur." "The best London specialists on mental diseases have already examined her. Poor Betty! They have told me her condition, therefore, if she gets worse it will be useless to call in a doctor. And she may get worse," he added meaningly, after a pause. "And when will monsieur and madame be back?" inquired Madame Nicole. "It is quite impossible to tell how long my business will take," was Mr Ford's reply. "We shall leave Havre by the _Homeric_ on Saturday, and I hope we shall be back by November. But your monthly payments will be remitted to you by the Credit Lyonnais until our return." So the pair had gone back by train from St Malo to quiet old Bayeux, to that dingy, ramshackle old house a few doors from that ancient mansion, now the museum in which is preserved in long glass cases the wonderful strip of linen cloth worked in outline by Queen Matilda and her ladies, representing the Conquest of England by her husband, William of Normandy, and the overthrow of Harold--one of the treasures of our modern world. On the way there they found that Miss Grayson could speak French. The rooms to which they brought the poor sightless English mademoiselle were small and frowsy. The atmosphere was close, and pervaded by the odour of a stack of old boots which Monsieur Nicole kept in the small back room, in which he cut leather and hammered tacks from early morn till nightfall. From the front window at which the girl sat daily, inert and uninterested, a statuesque figure, silent and sightless, a good view could be obtained of the wonderful west facade of the magnificent Gothic Cathedral, the bells of which rang forth their sweet musical carillon four times each hour. Summer sightseers who, with guide-book in hand, passed up the old Rue des Chanoines to the door of the Cathedral, she heard, but she could not see. Americans, of whom there were many, and a sprinkling of English, chattered and laughed upon their pilgrimage to the magnificent masterpiece of the Conqueror's half-brother, and some of them glanced up and wondered at the motionless figure seated staring out straight before her. It is curious how very few English travellers ever go to Bayeux, the cradle of their race, and yet how many Americans are interested in the famous tapestries and the marvellous monument in stone. On that warm noon as Betty Grayson sat back in the window, silent and motionless, her brain suddenly became stirred, as it was on occasions, by recollections, weird, horrible and fantastic. Madame Nicole, in her full black dress and the curious muslin cap of the shape that has been worn for centuries by the villagers of Vaubadon--for each village in Normandy has its own fashion in women's caps so that the denizens of one village can, in the markets, be distinguished from those of another--crossed the room from the heavy, old oak sideboard, laying the midday meal. In the room beyond Jean, her husband, was earning his daily bread tapping, and ever tapping upon the boots. "Madame," exclaimed the girl, rising with a suddenness which caused the boot-repairer's wife to start. "There is a strange man below. He keeps passing and re-passing and looking up at me." The stout, stolid Frenchwoman in her neat and spotless cap started, and smiled good-humouredly. "Then you can see at last--eh?" she cried. "Perhaps he is only some sightseer from the Agence Cook." The woman was astounded at the sudden recovery of the girl's sight. "No. I do not think so. He looks like an English business man. Come and see," said the girl. Madame crossed to the window, but only two women were in sight, neighbours who lived across the way, and with them was old Abbe Laugee who had just left his confessional and was on his way home to _dejeuner_. "Ah! He's gone!" the girl said in French. "I saw him passing along last evening, and he seemed to be greatly interested in this house." "He may perhaps have a friend living above us," suggested Madame Nicole. Scarcely had she replied, however, when a knock was heard at the outside door, which, on being opened, revealed the figure of a rather tall, spruce-looking Englishman, well-dressed in a dark grey suit. "I beg pardon, madame," he said in good French, "but I believe you have a Mademoiselle Grayson living with you?" Ere the woman could speak the girl rushed forward, and staring straight into the face of the man, cried: "Why! It's--it's actually Mr Porter!" The man laughed rather uneasily, though he well concealed his chagrin. He had believed that she was blind. "I fear you have mistaken me for somebody else," he said. Then, turning to the woman, he remarked: "This is Miss Grayson, I suppose?" "Yes, monsieur." "Ah! Then she imagines me to be somebody named Porter--eh?" he remarked in a tone of pity. "I imagine nothing," declared the girl vehemently. "I used to, but I am now growing much better, and I begin to recollect. I recognise you as Mr Arthur Porter, whom I last saw at Willowden, near Welwyn. And you know it is the truth." The man shrugged his shoulders, and turning to Madame Nicole said in French: "I have heard that mademoiselle is suffering from--well, from hallucinations." "Yes, monsieur, she does. For days she will scarcely speak. Her memory comes and goes quite suddenly. And she has to-day recovered her sight." "That is true," replied the pretty blue-eyed girl. "I recognise this gentleman as Mr Arthur Porter," she cried again. "I recollect many things--that night at Farncombe when--when I learnt the truth, and then lost my reason." "Take no notice, monsieur," the woman urged. "Poor mademoiselle! She tells us some very odd stories sometimes--about a young man whom she calls Monsieur Willard. She says he was murdered." "And so he was!" declared the girl in English. "Mr Homfray can bear me out! He can prove it!" she said determinedly. Their visitor was silent for a moment. Then he asked: "What is this strange story?" "You know it as well as I do, Mr Porter," she replied bitterly. But the stranger only smiled again as though in pity. "My name is not Porter," he assured her. "I am a doctor, and my name is George Crowe, a friend of your guardian, Mr Ford. He called upon me in Philadelphia a few weeks ago, and as I was travelling to Paris he asked me to come here and see you." "What?" shrieked the girl. "Dare you stand there and deny that you are Arthur Porter, the friend of that woman, Freda Crisp!" "I certainly do deny it! And further, I have not the pleasure of knowing your friend." Betty Grayson drew a long breath as her blue eyes narrowed and her brow knit in anger. "I know that because of my lapses of memory and my muddled brain I am not believed," she said. "But I tell you that poor Mr Willard was killed--murdered, and that the identity of the culprits is known to me as well as to old Mr Homfray, the rector of Little Farncombe." "Ah! That is most interesting," remarked the doctor, humouring her as he would a child. "And who, pray, was this Mr Willard?" "Mr Willard was engaged to be married to me!" she said in a hard voice. "He lived in a house in Hyde Park Square, in London, a house which his father had left him, and he also had a pretty seaside house near Cromer. But he was blackmailed by that adventuress, your friend, Mrs Crisp, and when at last he decided to unmask and prosecute the woman and her friends he was one morning found dead in very mysterious circumstances. At first it was believed that he had committed suicide, but on investigation it was found that such was not the case. He had been killed by some secret and subtle means which puzzled and baffled the police. The murder is still an unsolved mystery." "And you know the identity of the person whom you allege killed your lover--eh?" asked the doctor with interest. "Yes, I do. And so does Mr Homfray." "Then why have neither of you given information to the police?" asked the visitor seriously. "Because of certain reasons--reasons known to old Mr Homfray." "This Mr Homfray is your friend, I take it?" "He is a clergyman, and he is my friend," was her reply. Then suddenly she added: "But why should I tell you this when you yourself are a friend of the woman Crisp, and of Gordon Gray?" "My dear young lady," he exclaimed, laughing, "you are really making a very great error. To my knowledge I have never seen you before I passed this house last evening, and as for this Mrs Crisp, I have never even heard of her! Yet what you tell me concerning Hugh Willard is certainly of great interest." "Hugh Willard!" she cried. "You betray yourself, Mr Porter! How do you know his Christian name? Tell me that!" "Because you have just mentioned it," replied the man, not in the least perturbed. "I certainly have not!" she declared, while Madame Nicole, not understanding English, stood aside trying to gather the drift of the conversation. The man's assertion that his name was Crowe, and that he was a doctor when she had recognised him as an intimate friend of the woman who had blackmailed her lover, aroused the girl's anger and indignation. Why was he there in Bayeux? "I tell you that you are Arthur Porter, the friend of Gordon Gray and his unscrupulous circle of friends!" cried the girl, who, turning to the stout Frenchwoman, went on in French: "This man is an impostor! He calls himself a doctor, yet I recognise him as a man named Porter, the friend of the woman who victimised the man I loved! Do not believe him?" "Madame!" exclaimed the visitor with a benign smile, as he bowed slightly. "I think we can dismiss all these dramatic allegations made by poor mademoiselle--can we not? Your own observations have," he said, speaking in French, "shown you the abnormal state of the young lady's mind. She is, I understand, prone to imagining tragic events, and making statements that are quite unfounded. For that reason Mr Ford asked me to call and see her, because--to be frank--I am a specialist on mental diseases." "Ah! Doctor! I fear that mademoiselle's mind is much unbalanced by her poor father's death," said the woman. "Monsieur Ford explained it all to me, and urged me to take no notice of her wild statements. When is Mr Ford returning to France?" "In about three months, I believe. Then he will no doubt relieve you of your charge--which, I fear, must be a heavy one." "Sometimes, yes. But mademoiselle has never been so talkative and vehement as she is to-day." "Because I, perhaps, bear some slight resemblance to some man she once knew--the man named Porter, I suppose." "You are Arthur Porter!" declared the girl in French. "When I first saw you hazily last night I thought that you resembled him, but now I see you closer and plainly I _know_ that you are! I would recognise you by your eyes among a thousand men!" But the visitor only shrugged his shoulders again and declared to madame that mademoiselle's hallucinations were, alas! pitiable. Then he questioned the woman about her charge, and when he left he handed her a five-hundred-franc note which he said Mr Ford had sent to her. But a few moments later when on his way down the narrow, old-world street with its overhanging houses, he muttered ominously to himself in English: "I must get back to Gordon as soon as possible. That girl is more dangerous than we ever contemplated. As we believed, she knows too much--far too much! And if Sandys finds her then all will be lost. It was a false step of Gordon's to leave her over here. She is recovering. The situation is distinctly dangerous. Therefore we must act--without delay!" CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. WILES OF THE WICKED. On the day that Arthur Porter, under the guise of a doctor from Philadelphia, had visited Edna Manners at quaint old Bayeux, Roddy Homfray had, since early morning, been in his wireless-room at Little Farncombe Rectory, making some experiments with the new receiving-set which he had constructed in a cigar-box. The results had been highly satisfactory and very gratifying. He had been experimenting with a new organic and easily manufactured super-sensitive crystal which he had discovered to be a very delicate detector of wireless waves when an electrical circuit was passed through it, and by dint of long and patient tests of pressure electricity, had come to the conclusion that it was quite as effective as the usual three valves. This meant a very great improvement in the reception of wireless telephony. As that afternoon he sat at tea with his father he explained the trend of his piezo-electric experiments. The discovery was entirely his own, for though others had experimented with inorganic crystals, quartz and gems, trying to solve the riddle why sugar and certain salts should cool from liquid into different patterns of crystals, nobody had ever dreamed of constructing such a detector or of using such a manufactured "crystal." The secret of the new crystals was his own, and, judging from the efficiency of the new portable receiving-set, would be of very considerable value. When, later on, deaf old Mrs Bentley had cleared the table, father and son sat smoking, and Roddy said: "I'm going along to the Towers to dinner. Mr Sandys has asked me to have a hand at bridge afterwards." "Elma is away, isn't she?" "Yes. At Harrogate with her aunt. She returns on Tuesday," the young man replied. "And to-morrow Barclay meets the Kaid Ahmed-el-Hafid at the Ritz to receive the concession. He had a telegram from the Kaid last Friday to say that the concession had been granted in my name, and that he was leaving Tangiers with it on the following day." "Well, my boy, it really looks as though Fortune is about to smile on you at last! But we must always remember that she is but a fickle jade at best." "Yes, father. I shall not feel safe until the concession is actually in my hands. Barclay has promised to introduce me to the Kaid, who will give me every assistance in my prospecting expedition. It is fortunate that we already hold the secret of the exact position of the ancient workings." "It is, my boy," remarked the old rector thoughtfully. "Possibly you can induce Mr Sandys to finance the undertaking and float a company-- eh?" "That is my idea," his son replied. "But I shall not approach him until I have been out to the Wad Sus and seen for myself. Then I can speak with authority, and conduct to the spot any expert engineer he may like to send out there." Afterwards Roddy glanced at the old grandfather clock with its brass face which stood in the corner, rose, and after dressing, shouted a merry "good-bye" to the rector, and left the house to dine with the great financier, with whose daughter he was so deeply in love. Their secret they withheld from Mr Sandys. Theirs was a fierce, all-absorbing passion, a mutual affection that was intense. They loved each other fondly and, Mr Sandys being so often in London, they saw each other nearly every day. Indeed, for hours on end Elma would sit in the wireless-room and assist her lover in those delicate and patient experiments which he had been daily making. Roddy, in the weeks that had passed, had regained his normal condition, though sometimes, at odd moments, he still experienced curious lapses of memory. Old Mr Homfray had not been very well of late. His heart was naturally weak, and the doctor had for several years warned him against any undue excitement or hurrying when walking uphill. Once while conducting morning service, he was seized by faintness and was prevented from preaching his sermon. The narrow, gossiping world of Little Farncombe declared that their rector needed a change, and Mr Homfray had promised his churchwardens that he would take one as soon as he could get someone to lock after the parish in his absence. On the previous day he had received a letter from Gray's solicitors informing him that the mortgaged property at Totnes had been sold, and enclosing the paltry sum of fourteen pounds twelve shillings as the balance due to him. This fad had irritated him and caused him the greatest indignation. Gordon Gray had defied him and had foreclosed the mortgage after all! He had, however, made no mention of it to Roddy. The matter was his secret--and his alone, for it so closely concerned that closed chapter of his earlier days. To Roddy his own strange experience following the tragic discovery in Welling Wood was still a mystery. Only a few days before he had, out of sheer curiosity, taken train to Welwyn and walked out to Willowden. But the house was closed and the garden neglected, and on inquiry in the neighbourhood he had learnt that the people from London had taken the place furnished, and that their lease being up they had left. Where they had gone nobody knew. To Park Lane Mr Rex Rutherford--as Gordon Gray called himself--had accompanied his friend Porter, alias Harrison, on two occasions, and had endeavoured to make himself extremely affable to Elma, by whose extraordinary beauty he had become greatly attracted. The girl, however, instinctively disliked him. Why, she could not herself tell. He was elegantly-dressed, and his manners were those of a gentleman, yet he had an oleaginous air about him which annoyed her on both occasions. Once she had been compelled to dance with him, and he had been full of empty compliments. But on subsequent occasions when he requested "the pleasure" she managed to excuse herself. Indeed, she went so far as to suggest to her father that he should not invite Mr Rutherford again. Mr Sandys was rather surprised, but said nothing, and obeyed his daughter's wish. Roddy had left the Rectory about an hour and the dusk was gathering into night, when a closed car with strong headlights, coming from the direction of London and driven by a middle-aged man, drew up outside the village, and from it there alighted a short, stout man wearing a green velour Homburg hat. "I won't be long," he remarked to the driver, and at once set out on foot in the direction of the Rectory. Old Norton Homfray was in his study looking up a text in his big well-worn "Cruden," when he heard a ring, and knowing Mrs Bentley to be upstairs--and that if downstairs she would never hear it--he went to the door and threw it open, expecting his visitor to be one of his parishioners. Instead, he came face to face with his enemy, Gordon Gray. For a second he was too surprised for words. "Well," he asked with dignity, "why are you here?" "Oh!--well, I happened to be near here, and I thought I'd just pay you a call. I want to see you. May I come in?" "If you wish," growled the old clergyman, admitting him and conducting him to the study where the lamp was lit. Then when his visitor was in the room, he turned to him and said: "So you have carried out your threat, Gray, and sold my houses in Totnes--eh? You've taken my little income from me, as that woman told me you intended." "I had to; I'm so hard-up. Since the war I've been very hard hit," replied the man. "I'm sorry, of course." "Yes. I suppose you are very sorry!" sarcastically remarked the old man, pale with anger. "Once, Gray, I trusted you, and--" "And I befriended you in consequence," interrupted the other. "I lent you money." "You did--to your own advantage," said the old rector bitterly. "But let all that pass. I want you to tell me--nay, I demand to know!--what occurred in the wood outside this house on the night when Freda came here in secret." "How do I know? I was not here." "You were here. I saw you in church." "I came to listen to the excellent maxims you put before these yokels-- you, who have been in a criminal dock. A fine moral leader you are, Norton?" he laughed scornfully. "You ought to be hounded out of the parish as a hypocrite and a black-coated humbug. And if you don't take care you will be!" "And you! I--" "Take care. I know too much for you, remember," said Gray seriously. "You ruin me, and now you would blackmail me--as you and that woman Crisp have blackmailed others. I know your game. It has been played too long." "You are making allegations that may prove as dangerous to yourself as to me, Homfray," said the adventurer coldly, gazing straight into the other's eyes. "What do you mean?" cried the rector fiercely. "I know something--and I suspect a good deal more. Edna Manners died in Welling Wood on that fatal night, and my boy Roddy, because he discovered her, fell into your unscrupulous hands. Now, confess it--or, by Heaven! I'll tell the truth concerning young Willard!" "Really, Homfray," the visitor remarked, quite unperturbed. "You're a very nice, delightful parson--eh? Fancy you preaching in that pulpit, as I sat and listened to you on that Sunday night! You--of all men!" "I demand to know the truth. Poor Edna was engaged to marry that boy whom you, with that accursed woman, fleeced with such audacity. And you had the further audacity to ask me to assist you in your vile plans." "Why not? You live askew, just as we do--only you are slick enough to put on a clerical collar, as to six-tenths of the world the `cloth' can do no evil," he laughed. "Edna Manners knew too much for you. I recognised her from Roddy's description. And then Roddy himself was drugged--or something." "It is a matter which neither of us need discuss, Homfray," said the other. "There is six of me and half a dozen of you. Your son is all right again, deep in his wireless experiments and, I hear, in love with a very charming girl. What more do you want?" "I want justice and fair play!" said the old rector in desperation. "You, whom I believed to be my real friend, have played a deep and crooked game. Place your cards on the table for once, Gray, and tell me why. I have never been your enemy--only your friend!" The stocky, beady-eyed adventurer paused for a few seconds. The question nonplussed him. Suddenly he blurted forth: "You didn't play a straight game over young Willard. We might have shared equally thirty thousand pounds, but you wouldn't. I confess, Homfray, your refusal annoyed me." "Oh! Then _that_ is the secret!" he said. "I recollect it all. I told you that if you attempted to make that _coup_ and divest the poor boy of everything so that he could not marry Edna, I would go to the police. You pretended to withhold your hand in fear of my threat. But Freda and your unscrupulous friend `Guinness' managed to get the money from him and afterwards close his mouth so that the poor lad could tell no tales." "It's a lie! A damnable lie!" cried Gray, fiercely indignant. "I have only spoken the truth, and you know it," declared the old rector calmly. "As a minister of the Gospel, I am not in the habit of lying or being, uncharitable towards my fellow-men." "Oh! stop that silly rot! You are on a par with us. Don't pose as a saint?" "I am not a saint by any means, Gray. But I try to live honestly and in the fear of God." "And the fear of man also, I hope!" the other laughed. "Look here, is it to be war to the end between us? Or will you consider a little proposition I have in mind? Remember that I can very easily go to your bishop and have you kicked out of this little snuggery of yours. And what would your dear son think of all your past adventures--eh?" "Do it. Go to the bishop!" cried the poor old rector in desperation. "I tell you that I will never lift a finger to aid an assassin." "Whom do you call an assassin?" asked Gray, putting forward his dark face threateningly to the rector. "You--Gordon Gray!" replied the elder man fearlessly. "I know the truth concerning that poor boy Willard's death, and now that you have ruined me I have determined to risk my position here and reveal the truth!" Gray, never at a loss for words, stood silent. Homfray's pale determined countenance told him that he meant what he had said. He realised, for the first time, that in attacking Roddy he had taken a false step. The boy's father suspected the truth. Nay, he knew it. But there was the concession--and Elma! He was determined, at all hazards, to possess himself of both as the crowning point of his marvellously adventurous career. "I defy you to utter a single word!" cried Gray, with clenched fists. "If you do, it will be the worse for you! Remember that!" "I repeat what I told your accomplice, Freda Crisp. I will rid society of you both as social pests--vampires who prey upon the unwary and inexperienced," shouted the old clergyman in a frenzy of anger. "You have attacked me and mine, and now I will, in turn, retaliate. Get out of my house this instant!" Gordon Gray glanced keenly at the old rector with his shrewd dark eyes and shrugged his shoulders. "Homfray, you are a fool?" he declared. "Why can't we arrange matters? I came here to put a little proposition to you--that I should join your son in that mining concession he is obtaining from the Moorish Government." "Join my son!" shrieked the old man. "I would rather that Roddy grasped hands with Satan himself than with you! I--I--" And his face became crimson as he gasped for breath, and suddenly clutched wildly at his throat. "I--I--" But he uttered no further intelligible word. Next second a seizure, due to the violent excitement, held him rigid, and a few seconds later he sank into the arm-chair and expired in the presence of his enemy, thus carrying with him to the grave the secret of Hugh Willard's tragic end. Gordon Gray stood there in silence and watching with interest, amused rather than otherwise, realising that Nature herself had, by a strange freak, effected still another _coup_ in his own interests. The one enemy he feared had been swept from his path! Of Roddy he took no heed. The road to fortune and to Elma was now rendered clear for him. CHAPTER NINETEEN. A MATTER OF URGENCY. When Roddy Homfray returned from Farncombe Towers shortly before midnight he was staggered to find his father lying back in his arm-chair. Horrified, he tried to rouse him. But at once he saw that he was dead. He raised the alarm, and Doctor Denton was at once fetched out in his pyjamas from the other end of the village. "As I feared," said his friend when he saw the dead rector. "He has had another heart attack which has unfortunately proved fatal." "But he was quite all right and bright when I left him at seven," Roddy cried in despair. "No doubt. But your father has had a weak heart for years. I've attended him for it, so there will be no need for an inquest. Indeed, only a week ago I warned him that any undue excitement might end fatally." "But he has had no excitement!" cried the dead man's son, looking in despair around the cosy little study, where upon the writing-table "Cruden's Concordance" still lay open, as it had done when Gordon Gray had entered. "Apparently not," Denton admitted. "But perhaps he may have been secretly worrying over something. We shall, I fear, never know. Your father was a rather secretive man, I believe, wasn't he, Roddy?" "Yes. He was. He held some secret or other from me, the nature of which I could never make out," said his son, overcome with grief. At first he could not believe that his father, whom he idolised, was actually dead. But now he realised his loss, and tears were rolling down his cheeks. "A secret!" exclaimed his friend the doctor. "Of what nature?" "I have no idea. He once warned me against a certain man and a certain woman, who were apparently his enemies. But he would tell me nothing definite--nothing!" "When you came home, was the front-door locked?" asked the doctor. "No, my father always leaves it unlocked for me." "He expected you to come in later, and was no doubt at work here preparing his sermon," said Denton, glancing at the open reference book lying upon the blotting-pad. Indeed, beside the copy of "Cruden" was a sheet of sermon paper with a number of headings written in the neat uniform hand of a classical scholar, as old Mr Homfray was. "Yes. It seems so," said his son. "Apparently he felt the seizure approaching, and, leaving the table, crossed to the chair, and sinking into it, he breathed his last. Poor dear father! Why was I not here to assist him, instead of playing bridge? I--I'll never forgive myself, Denton!" "But you could not have foretold this. Who could?" asked his friend. "Endocarditis, from which your father was suffering, is quite a common complaint and very often causes sudden death, especially when it is ulcerative, as in your lamented father's case. No medical aid would have saved him." "And he knew this, and never told me!" cried Roddy. "He was secretive, as I have already said," answered the doctor. "Your poor father's death was caused by embolism; I have suspected it for some time." While Roddy and Denton were speaking at the dead man's side, Gordon Gray entered the tawdrily-decorated dancing-room of a certain disreputable night-club off Regent Street known as "The Gay Hundred"--a haunt of cocaine sellers and takers--and glanced eagerly around. He had driven up in his car a few doors away, and the doorkeeper had bowed to him and taken his coat and hat as he rushed in. His quick eyes espied a table in the corner at which sat Freda Crisp, in a daring black-and-orange gown without sleeves, smoking a cigarette in an amber holder, laughing, and drinking champagne with two young men in evening clothes, while about them whirled many couples dancing, the women mostly with artificially fair hair and wearing deeply-cut gowns, while some of them smoked cigarettes as they danced to the wild strains of the blatant orchestra. Freda's eyes met those of her friend Gray, and she read in them a message. She was a woman of quick perception and astounding intuition. Her adventures had been many and constant, and if she could have recorded them in print the book would certainly have been amongst the "best sellers" of which the public hear so much. The men with her were strangers to Gordon, therefore, assuming an instant carelessness, he lounged over, bowed, and greeted her. He did not know on what terms she was with the pair with whom she was drinking "bubbly," whether, indeed, they were pigeons worth plucking. Therefore his attitude was one of extreme caution. Gordon Gray was far too clever ever to spoil "a good thing" in the course of being engineered by any of his accomplices of either sex. "Oh! Good-evening, Mr Gray!" Freda exclaimed. "Fancy your being here to-night! I never suspected you of being a member of this place!" "I'm not. A friend of mine has introduced me," he said, and then, when the elegantly-dressed woman in the daring black-and-orange gown had introduced her companions, Gray sat down at the table and took a cigarette. Presently she excused herself from her two friends, saying: "You'll forgive me if I have just this one dance with Mr Gray--won't you?" And both joined the fox-trot which was at that moment commencing. "Well, I see by your face, Gordon, that something has happened. What?" she whispered as they took the floor. "Something good. Old Homfray is dead!" "Dead!" gasped the woman. "But you didn't do it--eh?" "No. I might have done. You know what I intended to do if he cut up rough--but luck came to my aid. The old hypocrite died suddenly from heart disease, I think. At any rate, he got into a passion and sank into his chair and expired. And then I quietly retired and drove back here to town. Nobody saw me. Luck--eh?" "By Jove! yes. That relieves us of a great deal of worry, doesn't it?" said the woman. "It's the best bit of news I've heard for years. While the old man lived there was always a risk--always a constant danger that he might throw discretion to the winds and give us away." "You're quite right, Freda. He was the only person in the world I feared." "And yet you defied him!" she remarked. "That is the only way. Never let your enemy suspect that you are frightened of him," said the stout, beady-eyed man in the navy-blue suit. "What about the young pup?" asked the woman in a low voice as they danced together over the excellent floor, while yellow-haired, under-dressed women who bore on their countenances the mark of cocaine-taking, and prosperous, vicious-looking men, both young and old, sat at the little tables, laughing, drinking and looking on. "He knows nothing, and he's going to be useful to us." "But he's very deeply in love with Elma." "Of course. But to part them will be quite easy. Leave all that to me." There was a pause. "And you will desert me for that slip of a girl--eh, Gordon?" asked the handsome woman suddenly in a strange, unusual voice. He started. He had never realised that the woman's jealousy had been aroused, but, nevertheless, he knew that a jealous woman always constitutes a danger when one sails near the wind. "Oh! my dear Freda, please don't talk like that," he laughed. "Surely ours is a business connexion. Your interests are mine, and _vice versa_. Have they not been so for five years? You have kept your eyes open for the pigeons, while I have plucked them for you and given you half share of the spoil." "And now you contemplate deserting me--and perhaps marrying the daughter of a wealthy man. Where do I come in?" "As you always have done, my dear Freda. Both of us are out for money-- and big money we must get from somewhere. That concession in Morocco is my main object at the present moment. We already have the plan, and Barclay has not yet discovered his loss." "He may do so at any moment. What then?" "Why, nothing. He will have no suspicion as to who has secured it or how it was taken from his safe. Besides, the old Moor is arriving at the Ritz and is bringing the actual signed concession over from Fez. And now that the parson is dead all will be plain sailing. Have you heard from Arthur to-day?" "Not a word. He should be back from Bayeux in a couple of days." "I shall want him to help me when young Homfray gets the concession in his possession." The woman looked him straight in the face, and then, after another pause, asked in a whisper: "What! Do you intend that an--an accident shall happen to him--eh?" "Perhaps," replied the man with a grim smile. "Who knows?" "Ah! I see!" she exclaimed quickly. "There cannot be two candidates for the hand of Elma Sandys!" And he nodded in the affirmative, a few moments later leading her back to the two young men who had been entertaining her, and then he left the place. The ill-suppressed jealousy which his accomplice had expressed considerably perturbed him. He saw that if he intended to attain success with Elma he must first propitiate Freda. A single word from her as an enemy would ruin all his chances. He was not blind to the fact either that Elma had no great liking for him, and that, on the other hand, the girl was deeply in love with the late rector's son. Though he had declared to Freda that all was plain sailing, he viewed the situation with considerable misgiving. As Rex Rutherford he had made a very favourable impression upon Mr Sandys, but women being gifted with an often uncanny intuition, Elma had from the first viewed him with suspicion. His studied attentions had annoyed her. And now that Freda had shown jealousy, a further difficulty, and even danger, had arisen. Since their hurried departure from Willowden Freda had taken another furnished house called The Elms, not far from Laleham, on the Thames, and there old Claribut had again been installed as butler and general factotum, while Gray, under the name of Rutherford, occupied a handsome suite of chambers in Dover Street, to which his new chauffeur eventually drove him that night. Next day the village of Little Farncombe was plunged into grief at the astounding news that their popular rector was dead. Old Mr Sandys' valet told his master the sad truth when he took up his early cup of tea, and within an hour the old financier called at the Rectory and offered his sincere condolences to Roddy, while later he sent a telegram to Elma at Harrogate announcing the tragic fact. Not a soul had apparently seen the dead man's visitor either arrive or depart. Mrs Bentley had, as was her habit, gone to bed without wishing her master "Good-night." Nobody, therefore, discovered that the poor old gentleman had been taken ill in consequence of violent anger expressed to a visitor, for the latter had been clever enough to slip away without being seen. Before noon Roddy received a long telegram from Elma, among many others, and three days later the body of the Reverend Norton Homfray was laid to rest in the quiet old churchyard which almost joined the Rectory garden. From far and near came crowds of mourners, and many were the beautiful wreaths placed upon the coffin by loving hands, though none was more beautiful than that which Elma herself brought from the Towers. That evening, when the funeral was over, and all the mourners had gone, Roddy stood in the wireless-room with his loved one clasped in his strong arms. He was pale, serious, and grief-stricken. She saw it, and kissed him upon the lips in mute sympathy. He held his breath as his eyes wandered over the long row of experimental instruments which had been his chief hobby and delight. But with his father's death all the interest in them had been swept away. This he declared to Elma in a tone of deep and poignant sorrow. "No, Roddy dear," she exclaimed, her hand tenderly placed on his shoulder. "You must strive to bear your loss, great as it is. I know how you loved your dear father, but the parting must always come for all of us. The blow is great--to us all, to the village--and to you more especially, but you must not allow it to interfere with your future interests." She saw in his eyes the light of unshed tears, and taking his strong hand, softly added: "Face the world anew, dear--face it with greater spirit and energy than you have done before, so that you may become a son worthy of a splendid and revered father." "I know!" he said. "It is very good of you to speak like that, Elma, but my grief seems to have altered the face of the world for me. The Moroccan Government has suddenly changed, it appears, and the Kaid Ahmed-el-Hafid is now no longer in power. The Minister of the Interior has been replaced by Mohammed ben Mussa, who was grand chamberlain to the Sultan, and who is now at the Ritz Hotel. My friend Barclay has arranged with him that I shall receive the concession for the ancient emerald mines, and I have to be introduced to him to-morrow. He promises me every facility and protection." "Then you will go, dearest," she said, standing with her little black "pom" in her arms. "It will mean a great fortune for you. Father was only remarking about it the other day." Roddy paused and looked fondly at her sweet face. "Yes. If you really wish it, darling, I'll go." "That's right," she exclaimed brightly. "Come up to the Towers with me in the car. Father asked me to bring you. You can't stay here alone this evening." He demurred, and tried to excuse himself, but the girl was insistent. "There's the news broadcast!" she exclaimed next second, glancing at the big, round-faced ship's clock. "Let's listen for a moment before we go--eh? The broadcast always fascinates me." In obedience to her desire Roddy switched on the aerial, lit the valves, and giving her one pair of head-'phones, took another. Then adjusting a tuning-coil and turning the knobs of the two condensers one after the other, a deep, sonorous voice was heard announcing the results of certain races held that afternoon, followed by a number of items of general news, which included a railway accident in France and the facts, that the King had left Buckingham Palace for Windsor, and that yet another conference of the Allies was contemplated. The news was followed by the announcement: "Mr George Pelham will now tell you all one of the famous bedtime stories for the children. Hulloa! C.Q. Hulloa! C.Q.? Listen! A bedtime story." Elma removed the telephones from her ears, and said: "I think we may go now." And then together they went forth to the car awaiting them. Mr Sandys had asked Roddy to fit for him a wireless transmitting set so that he could speak to his office by wireless telephone. This he had done, though not without considerable difficulties with the authorities. It was eleven o'clock before the young man returned to the silent, empty house, and on entering his dead father's study he saw that upon the blotting-pad old Mrs Bentley had placed several letters. He took them up thoughtfully. "Poor old dad!" he exclaimed aloud. "These have been written by people who still believe him to be alive!" He turned them over in his hand, and then began to open them. The first was a polite intimation from a moneylender, who expressed himself anxious to lend the reverend gentleman a loan of anything from two pounds to two thousand pounds at practically a nominal interest. The next was from a second-hand bookseller of whom his father frequently dealt, the third a bill, and the fourth was thin and bore a foreign stamp, the address being written in a small, angular hand. He opened it with some curiosity, and read as follows: "Dear Mr Homfray,--Though we have not met for nearly two years, you will probably recollect me. I have of late been very ill, and in a most mysterious manner. I am, however, fast recovering, and am at last able to write to you--having recollected only yesterday your name and address. "I have been suffering from blindness and a peculiar loss of memory; indeed, so much that I could not, until yesterday, tell people my own name. Here I am known as Betty Grayson, and I am living with some good, honest Normandy folk called Nicole. "I need not recall the tragedy which befell my _fiance_, Mr Willard, but it is in that connexion that I wish to see you--and with all urgency, for your interests in the affair coincide with my own. I feel that I dare not tell you more in this letter than to say that I feel grave danger threatening, and I make an appeal to you to come here and see me, so that we may act together in clearing up the mystery and bringing those guilty to the justice they deserve. "The situation has assumed the greatest urgency for action, so will you, on receipt of this letter, telegraph to me: chez Madame Nicole, 104, Rue des Chanoines, Bayeux, France, and tell me that you will come at once to see me. I would come to you, but as an invalid I am in the charge of those who are doing their best to ensure my rapid recovery. You are a clergyman, and I rely upon your kind and generous aid.-- Yours very sincerely, "Edna Manners." "Edna Manners?" gasped Roddy when he saw the signature. "Can she possibly be the girl whom I saw dead in Welling Wood?" CHAPTER TWENTY. CONCERNS THE CONCESSION. Next morning Roddy was compelled to leave Haslemere by the early train, and having met Barclay at Waterloo station, they drove in a taxi to the Ritz, where in a luxurious suite of apartments they found the white-bearded intellectual old Moor, Mohammed ben Mussa. His dark, deep-set eyes sparkled when in French Mr Barclay introduced the young man as "one of the most active and enthusiastic mining engineers in London," and from beneath his white robe he put forth his hand and grasped Roddy's. "I am very pleased, Monsieur Homfray, to think that you contemplate prospecting in the Wad Sus. Our mutual friend Mr Barclay is well known to us in Fez, and at his instigation I am granting you the necessary concession on the same conditions as my predecessor proposed to you, namely, that one-eighth of the profits be paid to me privately." "To those terms, Your Excellency, we entirely agree," Roddy said. "Good. Then I have the agreement ready for your signature." Upon the writing-table stood a small steel dispatch-case, from which His Excellency brought out a document which had been drawn up by a French notary in Tangiers, and, having read it, both Barclay and Homfray appended their signatures. Replacing it in the box, he then drew out a formidable-looking document written in Arabic with a translation in French. Both Roddy and his friend sat down and together digested the contents of the document by which "Son Majeste Cherifiane," through "his trusted Minister Mohammed ben Mussa," granted to Roderick Charles Homfray, of Little Farncombe, in Surrey, the sole right to prospect for and to work the emerald mines in the Wad Sus region of the Sahara on payment of one-eighth of the money obtained from the sale of the gems to the Sultan's private account at the Credit Lyonnais in Paris. It was a long and wordy screed, couched in the quaint and flowery language of the Moors, but the above was the gist of it. The Sultan and his Minister were sharing between themselves a quarter of the spoils, while Morocco itself obtained no benefit whatever. The two Englishmen having expressed their acceptance, His Excellency, the slow-moving Moorish Minister, bestirred himself again, and taking a large piece of scarlet sealing-wax, produced a huge silver seal--his seal of office as Minister--and with considerable care and with a great show of formality, he heated the wax until he had a round mass about three inches in diameter, into which he pressed the all-important seal. Then, ascertaining that the impression was a good one, he took out a red pen and signed it with long, sprawly Arabic characters, afterwards signing his name in French as Minister of His Majesty the Sultan. "And now, my young friend," said the patriarchal-looking man in French, as he handed the document to Roddy hardly dry, "I want to give you some little advice. You will go to Mogador, and there you will meet Ben Chaib Benuis, who will bear a letter from me. He will conduct you safely through very unsafe country which is held by our veiled Touaregs, the brigands of the Great Desert. While you are with him you will have safe conduct into the Wad Sus, one of the most inaccessible regions south of the Atlas Mountains." "I am much indebted to Your Excellency," said the young man. "I have had some little experience of mining operations in South America, and up to the present I am glad to say that I have been successful. I hope I may be equally successful in Morocco." "You will surely be," the old man assured him. "Already Ben Chaib Benuis knows where to find the entrance to the workings, and the rest will be quite easy for you. You have only to raise the necessary capital here, in your city of London, and then we go ahead. And may Allah's blessing ever rest upon you!" concluded the mock-pious old man, who saw in the concession a big profit to himself and to his royal master. Roddy folded the precious document into four and placed it in the breast pocket of his dark-blue jacket with an expression of thanks and a promise to do his utmost to carry out his part of the contract. "We have every hope of floating a very important company to carry out the scheme," said Andrew Barclay enthusiastically, even then in ignorance that the plan given him by the Minister's predecessor in Marseilles was no longer in his possession. "I saw the beautiful dark emerald which has been only recently taken from one of the mines. It is a glorious stone, finer, they say, than any that have ever come from the Urals into the treasury of the Romanoffs." "Emeralds and rubies are the most precious stones of to-day," Roddy declared. "Diamonds do not count. They are unfashionable in these post-war days of the ruined aristocracy and the blatant profiteer. A big emerald worn as a pendant upon a platinum chain is of far greater notoriety than a diamond tiara. Nobody wears the latter." It was eleven o'clock, and His Excellency rang for a cup of black coffee, while Barclay and Roddy each took a glass of French vermouth. Then, when they sat down to chat over their cigarettes, Roddy glanced casually at the morning newspaper, and saw the announcement that the Moorish Minister was in London "upon a matter of international importance concerning the port of Mogador." The young fellow smiled. The matter upon which old Mohammed was "doing himself well" at the Ritz concerned his own pocket--the same matter which affects nine-tenths of the foreign political adventurers who visit Paris and London. They make excuses of international "conversations," but the greed of gain to themselves at the expense of their own country is ever present. Later, when he walked with Barclay along Piccadilly towards the Circus, the concession safely in his pocket, Roddy turned to his friends and said: "Do you know, Andrew, I'm not quite easy in my own mind! I fear that somebody might try to do me out of this great stroke of good fortune for which I am indebted to you." "Why? Who could contest your right to the concession? The future is all plain sailing for you--and for Miss Sandys, I hope. I congratulate you, my boy. You'll end by being a pillar of finance!" "Never, old chap," laughed Roddy. Then, after a few moments' pause, he added: "I'm going over to France to-morrow. I must go." "Why?" "I have a little matter to see after that brooks no delay. When I'm back I'll tell you all about it. I'll be away only two or three days at most. But in the meantime I shall place the concession with old Braydon, my father's solicitor, in Bedford Row. I have to see him this afternoon regarding some matters concerning the poor old governor's will." "Yes. Perhaps it may be just as well, Roddy," said his friend. "But as soon as you have recovered from the blow of your poor father's death we ought to take up the concession and see what business we can do to our mutual advantage. There's a big fortune in it. Of that I'm quite convinced." "So am I--unless there are sinister influences at work, as somehow I fear there may be." But Barclay laughed at his qualms. The pair took lunch in a small Italian restaurant in Wardour Street, and while Andrew returned to Richmond, Roddy went along to see his father's old friend, Mr Braydon, and asked him to put the sealed concession into safe keeping. "I'm just sending along to the Safe Deposit Company's vaults in Chancery Lane," said the grey-haired, clean-shaven old man who was so well known in the legal world. "I'll send the document for you. Perhaps you will like a copy? I'll have a rough copy made at once." And, touching a bell, he gave the order to the lady clerk who entered in response. When Roddy left Bedford Row he felt that a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Perhaps he would not have been so completely reassured if he had known that Gordon Gray himself had been very cleverly keeping watch upon his movements all the morning. He had been idling in the corridor of the Ritz while Roddy had been engaged in the negotiations, and he had been standing on the opposite pavement in Bedford Row while he had sought Mr Arnold Braydon. When Roddy had walked down towards Holborn the silent watcher had turned upon his heel and left, with a muttered expression of dissatisfaction, for he knew that young Homfray had placed the official document in keeping so safe that theft would now be impossible. "We must change our tactics," growled the king of international crooks to himself. "That concession would be worthless to us even if we had it at this moment. No; we must devise other means." And, hailing a passing taxi, he entered and drove away. Gordon Gray had been foiled by Roddy's forethought. Yet, after all, the concession had been actually granted and stamped by the official seal of the Moorish Minister of the Interior. Therefore, the dead rector's son was in possession of the sole right to prospect in the Wad Sus, and it only now remained for him to start out on his journey into the Sahara and locate the mines, aided by the plan which his friend Barclay had been given. As far as Roddy was concerned the concession was an accomplished fact. But uppermost in his mind was that curious letter addressed to his father from the girl, Edna Manners. Something impelled him to investigate it--and at once. Therefore, he dashed back to Little Farncombe, and before going home called at the Towers, intending to show the strange letter to Mr Sandys before leaving for Bayeux. James, the footman, who opened the door to him, replied that both his master and Miss Elma had left at twelve o'clock, Mr Sandys having some urgent business in Liverpool. They had gone north in the car. Disappointed, Roddy went home and packed a suit-case, and that evening left for Southampton, whence he crossed to Havre, as being the most direct route into Normandy. At midday he alighted from the train at Bayeux, and drove in a ramshackle _fiacre_ over the uneven cobbles of the quaint old town, until at the back of the magnificent cathedral he found the address given in the letter. Ascending to the first floor, he knocked at the door, and Madame Nicole appeared. "I am in search of Mademoiselle Grayson," he said inquiringly in French. "Mademoiselle lives here," answered the woman, "but, unfortunately, she is not at home. She went out last evening to post a letter, and, strangely enough, she has not returned! We are much distressed. Only an hour ago my husband informed the commissary of police, and he is making inquiries. Mademoiselle has recovered her sight and, to a great extent, her proper senses. It is a mystery! She promised to return in a quarter of an hour, but she has not been seen since!" CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. THE BLOW. Purcell Sandys was seated at his writing-table in his fine spacious library in Park Lane engrossed in the intricacies of some formidable-looking accounts. Hughes, the grave-faced old butler, opened the door softly, and asked: "Shall you be wanting anything more to-night, sir?" His master raised his head wearily, and Hughes at once noticed how very pale and changed he seemed. "No, nothing, Hughes," he replied in an unusual voice. "But leave word that when Miss Elma comes in I wish to see her here at once. She's at Lady Whitchurch's dance, but she ought to be back very soon." "Yes, sir," answered the old servant. "But--excuse me, sir, you don't look very well. Can't I get you something? A little brandy--perhaps?" "Well, yes, Hughes. Just a liqueur-glass full," was his master's reply; and then he turned again to his accounts. Hughes, a moment later, placed the thin little Venetian liqueur-glass upon a silver salver at his elbow, and retired noiselessly. Mr Sandys had not heard him. He was far too engrossed in his work of examination of the accounts and three bankers' pass-books. Now and then he drew long breaths and snapped his fingers in fierce impatience. "To think of this! Only to think of it!" escaped his pale, thin lips. Then he rose, and with his hand on the edge of the table he slowly surveyed his room. "And I trusted Hornton! He was so sound that I would have entrusted to him Elma's life and future. And she is all I have in the world. And he's let me down!" He reseated himself at the table, and, taking up a telegram, re-read it, as he had done a dozen times before. It was dated from Stowmarket, and said: "Much regret to tell you that poor Charles has been found dead. Very distressed.--Lady Hornton." His partner was dead! Upon his table lay a letter he had received by the last post that evening. A letter of apology it was. On the previous night at eight o'clock the two partners had met alone in Lombard Street, and Sir Charles had confessed that he had been gambling heavily in Paris, at Deauville, at Aix, at Madeira, at the Jockey Club, at Buenos Ayres, as well as at a private gambling-hell called Evans' in West Kensington, and that the result had been that he had lost everything. He could not face the music. So he had made his bow to the world and ended his life. Purcell Sandys was left to bear the brunt of the whole of the gigantic liabilities of them both! The great financier left the little glass of brandy untouched. He was never addicted to spirits. A man of strong and outstanding personality, he had studied, as so many of our greatest Englishmen have done, the practically unknown philosophy of Yogi--that science of "I am"--of the "Great Ego," which by our modern world is so little understood. Purcell Sandys, at that moment when he knew that ruin had befallen him, stood erect, and presently a curious smile crossed his lips. He had studied the old Indian science of "Raja Yogi" thoroughly and well. He knew the nature of Real Self, as every strong man does. He knew the power of the Will, which power underlies the entire teachings of Raja Yogi, and he was master of his Real Self. The great strong men through all the ages have studied the Yogi science perhaps unconsciously. Even as Purcell Sandys stood there, a ruined man in that millionaire's palace in Park Lane, he spoke aloud and repeated the mantrams or affirmations of the candidates presenting themselves to the Yogi masters for their first lesson. "I am a Centre," he said in a low, distinct voice. "Around me revolves the world. `I' am a Centre of Influence and Power. `I' am a Centre of Thought and Consciousness. `I' am independent of the Body. `I' am Immortal and cannot be destroyed. `I' am Invincible and cannot be injured. Mastery is with me." Then he returned to his chair and fell to studying and adding up his liabilities. They were colossal. He had known that Hornton was very fond of games of chance and often played for high stakes at a certain gaming-club in Paris, but he had never dreamed he was gambling away the firm's securities. The blow had staggered him, for it had brought him in a day from luxury to ruin. The financial operations they had in progress throughout the world were now simply bubbles. There was nothing behind them. The Paris house had been depleted, and yet so high was the standing of the firm that nobody had expected such a crisis. The failure would inevitably bring down with it other smaller houses, and hundreds of small investors, war widows, clergymen, artisans, and people who earned weekly wages, both in England and in France, would lose their all. He bit his lip to the blood. An hour before he had spoken on the telephone to Lady Hornton, but the line was very bad to Stowmarket, and he could scarcely hear her. But he understood her to say that her husband, who had been out motoring in the morning, had lunched and then, as usual, gone to his room to have a nap. But when his man went to call him at half-past five he found him dead. Such news was, indeed, calculated to upset any man. But Purcell Sandys, on account of his Yogi knowledge, knew of his own subconscious mentality. He relaxed every muscle, he took the tension from every nerve, threw aside all mental strain, and waited for a few moments. Then he placed his position firmly and fixedly before his mental vision by means of concentration. Afterwards he murmured to his subconscious mentality--which all of us possess if we know how to use it aright: "I wish my position to be thoroughly analysed, arranged, classified, and directed, and the result handed back to me. Attend to this?" Thus the ruined financier spoke to his subconscious mentality just as though it were a separate entity which had been employed to do the work. Confident expectation was, he knew, an important part of the process, and that the degree of success depended upon the degree of his confident expectation. He was not a slave to the subconscious, but its master. Returning again to his table, he sat for a long time pondering until suddenly the door opened and Elma burst in, bright and radiant in a filmy dance frock of emerald with shoes and stockings to match. In her hair she wore a large golden butterfly, and in her hand she carried her long gloves. "Do you want to see me, dad?" she asked. "I know I'm rather late, but I've had such a topping time. Only one thing spoiled it. That Mr Rutherford was there and pestered me to dance with him." Her father was silent for a few seconds. Mention of the name of Rutherford caused him to reflect. "Yes, dear, I want to see you. Sit down for a moment. I have something to tell you." "You look very anxious, dad," exclaimed the girl. "Why, what's the matter?" "A very serious one, my dear--most serious. A heavy blow has fallen upon me. Sir Charles has killed himself!" "What?" gasped the girl, rising from her chair. "Yes, and, moreover, before doing so he ruined us both by gambling. Elma, I cannot conceal the bitter truth from you, dear. I am ruined!" The girl was too astounded to utter a word. Her countenance had blanched. "But, dad!" she cried at last. "You can't mean that you are actually ruined--you, the rich man that you are." "I thought I was until last night," he replied huskily. "I have enemies, as well as friends. What man has not? The truth cannot be concealed from them very long, and then they will exult over my ruin," he remarked very gravely. "But, dad, what are we to do? Surely Sir Charles hasn't actually ruined you?" "Unfortunately he has, my child. I trusted him, but the curse of gambling was in his blood and he flung away my money as well as his own. But he is dead--he has paid the penalty of his folly, and left me to face our creditors." "And the future, dad?" asked the young girl, gazing aimlessly about her and not yet realising what ruin meant. Purcell Sandys, the man whose credit was at that moment so high in Lombard Street--for the truth was not yet out--sighed and shook his head. "I must face the music, my dear," he said. "Face defeat, as others have done. Napoleon was compelled to bow to the inevitable; I must do so. Farncombe must be sold, and this house also. I must realise as much as possible to pay my creditors. But I cannot pay them all even though I sell everything." "And then?" asked his pretty daughter, so slim and girlish. "And then, dad?" "Then we must both go into obscurity. Perhaps we can live over in Brittany, in some out-of-the-way place, and learn to forget. But I said `we.' No, dear, you could never forget. You are young and have your life before you--you must marry, child, and be a happy wife. I could never take you over to France to one of those deadly-dull little towns where life is only existence, and thoughts of the past become an obsession. No." "But I want to help you, dad," she said, crossing to him and stroking his grey brow with her hand. "I know, darling. I know," he muttered. "You may be able to--one day. But--but to-night don't let us discuss this painful subject further. I feel--well, I can't bear it. Good-night!" And raising his bearded face, he kissed her, patting her upon the shoulder as he did so. Reluctantly she withdrew, for he was insistent that she should retire. Then, when she had gone, he drew several long, deep breaths--part of his Yogi training--and locking up the sheaf of accounts and the pass-books, he switched off the light and ascended the wide, handsome stairs to his room. By the irony of fate the man who had built that magnificent town mansion in Park Lane, and had sold it to Purcell Sandys, had afterwards stood in the dock at the Old Bailey and had been sentenced to ten years' imprisonment for a gigantic fraud. The position of Purcell Sandys was certainly a very serious one. Honest, upright, and straight-spoken, he had, from small beginnings, attained greatness in the financial world, until the name of the firm was one to conjure with in the money markets of Europe. But he was ever a man of honour. During the war he saw the way open to make a profit of five millions sterling by dealing with Germany through a certain source in South America. The proposition was put to him on the day of the air-raid on Brixton. He heard the sleek agent of the enemy, and smoked a good cigar as he listened. Then he rose from his chair, and said: "Look here! I'm an Englishman! Get out! There's the door. And if you don't get out of England in twelve hours you'll find yourself arrested. Get out!" And even while the caller was in the room he crossed to the telephone and rang up "M.O.5" at the War Office. Purcell Sandys was a real, honest, firm-handed Englishman. He had, by his own pluck, self-confidence and shrewd intuition, raised himself from his small office as a provincial bank manager to the position he had attained in the financial world. Mrs Sandys, who had been a great invalid for years, had died at St Moritz two years before, and he had only Elma left to him. And naturally he doted upon her--his only child. That night he felt himself up against a brick wall--he, whose very name was a power upon every bourse in Europe. Alone in her room Elma, dismissing her maid Evans, sank at her bedside and prayed. She loved her father, and had never before seen him with hopelessness written plainly upon his features. She thought of Roddy. Would that he were at her side to advise and help her! But she was alone--alone except for her little pet, the black pom, Tweedles. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. BY STROKE OF THE PEN. Next day the news of the sudden death of Sir Charles Hornton at his country house in Suffolk caused a great sensation in the City. But as the truth was never guessed, the greatest sympathy was felt on every hand for his close friend and partner Purcell Sandys. The fact that Sir Charles had committed suicide had not leaked out. He had been found dead under very mysterious circumstances. That was all. Almost the first person to call at Park Lane and express his sorrow was the well-dressed, soft-speaking and refined Mr Rex Rutherford. It was about eleven o'clock. Elma heard a ring at the door, and afterwards asked Hughes who was the caller. "Mr Rutherford, miss," was the old man's reply. The girl said nothing, but she wondered why he should call upon her father so early in the morning. Two days later the white-bearded old Moorish Minister Mohammed ben Mussa was seated with his secretary, a young Frenchman, in his hotel in the Rue de Rivoli, in Paris, when a waiter entered, saying: "Madame Crisp has called, Your Excellency." In an instant the old man's face became illuminated, and he gave orders to show the lady in. "It is the lady I met on the boat between Dover and Calais. Her necklet had been stolen, and she was naturally in tears. We travelled together from Calais to Paris," he explained. "She is a very intelligent English society woman, and I asked her to call." The French secretary, who had been engaged at the Ministry in Fez for some years, bowed as his new master spoke. In a few moments Freda Crisp, elegantly-dressed, swept into the luxurious room. "Ah! So here you are!" she cried in French, which she spoke extremely well. "I promised I would call. Do you know, the French police are so much cleverer than the English! They have already arrested the thief and returned my necklet to me!" His Excellency, after inviting his guest to be seated, expressed pleasure at the news, and then the secretary rose discreetly and left. "I hope you are enjoying Paris," Freda said in her low musical voice, which always charmed her dupes. "Now that the autumn is coming on everyone is returning from Deauville. I am giving a little party to-night at the Ritz. I wonder if you would honour me with your presence? I have a friend, an Englishman, who wishes very particularly to make Your Excellency's acquaintance." The old Minister expressed himself as being delighted, whereupon she suggested that he should dine with her and her English friend at the hotel. The old Moor with his Eastern admiration of feminine beauty found her charming, and at eight o'clock that night when he entered the hotel, his striking figure in the ample white burnous (upon which was the glittering star of the Order of the Tower and the Sword), and turban, caused all heads to be turned in his direction. "This is my friend, Mr Arthur Porter," Freda said. "Will Your Excellency allow me to present him?" The old Moor took Porter's hand and, with an expression of pleasure, the trio sat down to dinner at a corner table in the great restaurant. The Moorish Minister spent a most enjoyable evening, for though he touched no wine, he was after dinner introduced to several very elegant and charming women, both English and French, for in a certain circle in Paris Freda was well known. Porter took good care to ingratiate himself with the patriarchal-looking old fellow, declaring that he knew Morocco, was delighted with the life there, and intended in a few weeks' time to visit Fez again. The truth, however, was that he had never been there in his life and had no intention of ever going. Freda had followed the old Minister from London and had managed to become acquainted with him with the sole object of introducing Arthur Porter, alias Bertram Harrison. To them both the death of Sir Charles was known, and Porter guessed that Mr Sandys' financial position would be greatly affected. He had seen Sir Charles at several gaming-tables, and knew that he had been a reckless gambler. So cleverly did the pair play their cards that Mohammed ben Mussa invited Porter to call and see him next day--which he did. As the two men sat together smoking cigarettes, Porter suddenly said in French: "I heard the other day that the ancient emerald mines in the Wad Sus are about to be worked again." "That is so. I granted the concession in London only a few days ago." "Ah! How very unfortunate!" remarked his visitor. "I have a big financial backing, and could have exploited those mines with huge profits to all of us. Of course, I do not know how much gratification Your Excellency has received for the concession, but my friends would, I believe, have paid Your Excellency fifty thousand francs down and one-quarter of the profits of the undertaking." The old Moor pursed his lips and pricked up his ears. From Barclay he had received nothing on account, and only one-eighth share. Porter could see that the old fellow was filled with regret and chagrin that he had granted the concession with such little gain to himself. "His Majesty the Sultan demands a share in the profits," old Mohammed remarked. "He has been allotted an eighth share--similar to myself." "I could have arranged a quarter share for you and an eighth for His Majesty," said the crafty Englishman quickly. "But I suppose it is unfortunately too late, now that you have given the concession into another quarter." Mohammed ben Mussa remained silent, slowly stroking his long beard with his brown claw-like hand. The Englishman's offer was extremely tempting. He was reflecting. At last he said very slowly: "Perhaps if seventy-five thousand francs were offered me and the shares you suggest, I might find some way out," and he smiled craftily. "Well," said Porter with affected hesitation, "I'm inclined to think that my friends would pay that sum--and at once if they received an unassailable concession. I mean a concession given to Mr Rex Rutherford under your hand and seal as Minister which would cancel the previous one." Porter knew well the one power in Oriental countries was that of backsheesh, and wrote down the name Rex Rutherford. "I will consider it," said the old man. "There is no hurry till to-morrow. I may find it necessary to telegraph to Fez. I--I have to think it over, M'sieur Porter." "Of course. Then I will come here to-morrow--shall we say at eleven? And you will afterwards lunch with me at Voisin's--eh?" "It is agreed," said the representative of the Moorish Sultan, and then, after another cigarette, Porter rose and left, walking back to the Place Vendome to tell Freda the result of his morning's negotiations. Next day, at noon when the tall Englishman entered Mohammed's room he saw by the expression on the old man's face that he had triumphed. "I have been reflecting," His Excellency said when his visitor was seated, "and I have prepared a copy of the concession which I gave in London, with the name and terms altered as we discussed yesterday, and with the payment of seventy-five thousand francs to me direct at latest to-morrow as being the consideration. You see, it is all in order--a concession in perpetuity granted to your nominee, Mr Rutherford, and sealed by my Ministerial seal, which I hold from His Majesty, and signed by myself. Please examine it." Arthur Porter took the document, which was almost a replica of that handed to Barclay in London. The date was, however, different, as well as the terms. "Yes," he said, after carefully reading the French translation. "It all seems in order. It rescinds the previous concession granted in London." "Most certainly. No one will have any authority to enter the Wad Sus except yourself and those you appoint." With satisfaction Porter drew from his inner pocket an envelope containing seventy-five one-thousand-franc notes, which he counted out upon the table one by one. The old Moor's thin yellow fingers handled them gleefully, and placing them together he drew them beneath his ample burnous, saying quite coolly: "I trust, Monsieur Porter, that you are satisfied." "Perfectly," was the Englishman's reply. "My friend will at once form a syndicate and work the mines. Of course, we may have trouble with that Mr Barclay in London." "He paid no consideration. Therefore you need not trouble about him. The concession you have is the only valid one, for it is dated after the one I gave in London. If they attempt to enforce it we shall instantly prevent their entering the district, or arrest them if they attempt to do so." And the old man chuckled to himself at the easy manner in which he had obtained seventy-five thousand francs. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. A CALLER AT THE RECTORY. That morning Gordon Gray, dapper and well-dressed as ever, had scanned the papers and read the report of the inquiry into the death of Sir Charles Hornton. The coroner's jury had returned a verdict of "death through misadventure," it having been proved that Sir Charles had mistaken a bottle of poison for a prescription for indigestion which the local doctor had sent him on the previous day. In fact, it was a not too rare way of hushing-up the suicide of a well-known man. In many cases where persons of means commit wilful suicide the twelve local tradesmen are lenient, and declare it to be pure accident, or "misadventure"--unless, of course, the suicide leaves a letter, in which case the truth cannot be circumvented. For a suicide to leave a letter is a criminal act towards his family. Early in the afternoon the telephone-bell rang in the pleasant sitting-room of the cosy West End chambers Gray was occupying, and on taking off the receiver he heard Freda speaking from Paris. "All O.K.," she said. "Guinness has got the concession and is bringing it over this afternoon. He'll be with you to-night." "When does the old Moor leave?" asked Gray. "The day after to-morrow. He goes straight back to Tangier." "Right. Keep in touch with him till he's safely away, then get back here," were the great crook's orders. Meanwhile events were following close upon each other in those crowded autumn days. Roddy, checkmated by his failure to find the girl Manners who had written to his dead father from Bayeux, made, in company with the shoe-repairer Nicole, a number of inquiries of the commissary of police and in other quarters, but in vain. From the worthy pair he learnt how they had received the young lady at St Malo from an Englishman and a woman, apparently his wife. From the description of the woman he felt convinced that it was Freda Crisp. The girl, under the influence of the same drug that had been administered to him, had been smitten by temporary blindness, in addition to her mind being deranged. Here was still more evidence of the dastardly machinations of Gray and his unscrupulous associates. It was now plain that the girl Manners had not died, after all, but had lapsed into a kind of cataleptic state, just as he had done. The problem of her whereabouts, however, was an all-important one. With her as witness against Gray and the woman Crisp the unmasking of the malefactors would be an easy matter. Besides, had not Mr Sandys told him that it was most important to him that the young lady's fate should be ascertained? What had been her fate? The description of the mysterious man who called himself a doctor and who had recently visited the poor girl conveyed nothing to Roddy. It seemed, however, as though after she had written the letter to his father she had suddenly disappeared. Had she left Bayeux of her own accord, or had she been enticed away? The police suspected foul play, and frankly told him so. It was during those eager, anxious days in Bayeux that Roddy, on glancing at _Le Nouvelliste_, the daily paper published in Rennes, saw to his astonishment news of the tragic death of Mr Sandys' partner, and hastened to telegraph his condolences. Hence it was with great surprise that Elma and her father were aware that the young man was in France, for the telegram simply bore the place of origin as Bayeux. Little did he dream of the clever devil's work which Freda and her associate Porter had accomplished with old Mohammed ben Mussa, but remained in Normandy following a slender clue, namely, a statement made by a white-capped peasant woman hailing from the neighbouring village of Le Molay-Littry, who declared that she had, on the day of the young English mademoiselle's disappearance, seen her on the railway platform at Lison entering a train for Cherbourg. She was alone. To Cherbourg Roddy travelled, accompanied by a police-officer from Bayeux and Monsieur Nicole, but though they made every inquiry, no trace of her could be found. At the office of the Southampton boats nobody recollected her taking a passage on the day in question. Therefore, saddened and disappointed, he was compelled to relinquish his search and cross back to England. While on board the boat he paced the deck much puzzled how to act. He wondered how Elma was faring. Mr Sandys was, no doubt, too full of his partner's tragic end to attend to any fresh business proposal. Therefore he decided not to approach him at present with the concession, which was in the vaults of the Safe Deposit Company. On arrival at Victoria he, however, drove to Park Lane to call, see Elma, and express to her father his regret at the tragedy. The footman who opened the door answered that neither his master nor Miss Elma was at home. "Are they at Farncombe?" asked Roddy, much disappointed. "No, sir. They are in town. But I do not think they will be back till very late." Roddy, who was a shrewd observer, could tell that the man had received orders to say "not at home." "Not at home" to him? Why? He stood upon the wide doorstep filled with wonder and chagrin. He wanted to tell Mr Sandys of the second disappearance of Edna Manners, and most of all to see the girl he so fondly loved. But she was "not at home." What could be the reason of such an attitude? He took the last train home from Waterloo, and on arrival at the Rectory--which he still occupied until the new incumbent should require it--old Mrs Bentley came down to let him in. "Oh, sir," she exclaimed, "I'm glad you've come back. There's been a young lady here this evening inquiring for your poor father. I told her I expected you home every day, and she's coming again to-morrow evening at five o'clock. After she went I saw her wandering about Welling Wood, as though searching for something. She told me to say that her name is Miss Manners." Roddy stood staggered--too amazed to utter a word for the moment. Edna Manners had returned, and to-morrow he would know the truth. Too puzzled and excited to sleep, he threw off his coat, and entering his wireless-room took up his cigar-box receiver with the newly invented and super-sensitive crystal detector. Placing the 'phones over his ears he switched on the little portable aerial wire which he used with it and attached another wire to earth, whereupon he heard loud and strong telephony--somebody in Rotterdam testing with a station in London and speaking in Dutch. It proved beyond all doubt that the new crystal was the most sensitive type known, and that, for a portable set, was of far greater utility than vacuum valves. The quality of the telephony, indeed, astounded him. He had been listening in for nearly an hour when suddenly he heard the voice of a fellow-experimenter, a man named Overton, in Liverpool, with whom he often exchanged tests. At once he threw over his transmission switch, the generator hummed with gathering speed, and taking up the telephone, he said: "Hulloa, 3.B.L.! Hulloa, 3.B.L.! Hulloa, Liverpool! This is Homfray 3.X.Q. calling. Your signals are very good. Modulation excellent 3.B.L. I am just back from France, and will test with you to-morrow night at 22:00 G.M.T. Did you get that 3.B.L., Liverpool? 3.X.Q. over." And he threw over the switch, the humming of the generator dying down. In a few seconds came Overton's familiar voice, saying: "Hulloa 3.X.Q.! This is 3.B.L. answering! Thanks very much for your report. I will call you to-morrow night at 22:00 G.M.T. Thanks again. Somebody was calling you half an hour ago on one thousand metres. You did not get him. Better try now. G.N.O.M. (Good-night, old man.) 3.B.L. switching off." Roddy, interested as to who, in the wonderful modern world of wireless where men and women only meet through the ether, could have called him, raised his receiving wavelength to a thousand metres and listened. Beyond some "harmonics" there was nothing. Suddenly, however, an unknown voice, so clear and high-pitched that it startled him, said: "Hulloa, 3.X.Q.! Hulloa, Farncombe! I have called you several times to-night; the last time an hour ago. I'm speaking for Mr Barclay. He did not know that you were back. He is coming on urgent business to Guildford to-morrow. Can you meet him at the station at eleven o'clock in the morning. He has asked me to give you that message. This is 3.T.M. at Kingston-on-Thames speaking. 3.T.M. over." Roddy was not surprised. He frequently--in contravention of the Post-Office regulations, be it said--received such relayed messages. He could be with Barclay at eleven and meet Edna Manners at five. So putting in his transmission switch, which caused the big vacuum globes to light up and the generator to hum again, he took up the microphone transmitter, and replied in a sharp clear voice: "Hulloa, 3.T.M.! This is 3.X.Q. answering. Thank you very much for the message from Barclay--I will keep the appointment to-morrow. 3.X.Q. switching off." Why did Barclay wish to see him so urgently? Perhaps the urgency had not occurred until the post-office had closed, hence he had been unable to send a telegram. And at the Rectory there was no telephone, save that splendidly equipped radio-phone. Little did Roddy Homfray suspect that Mr Purcell Sandys was faced with ruin, that Elma knew of the impending disaster, and that there was a reason--a very clear and distinct reason--why she and her father were neither of them "at home" when he had called. Black ruin had fallen upon the great financial house of Sandys and Hornton, a fact of which, though Roddy was in ignorance, Gordon Gray, alias Rex Rutherford, and his accomplices were well aware, and were about to turn to their own advantage. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. RUTHERFORD MAKES A PROPOSITION. On that evening when Roddy was told that neither Mr Sandys nor Elma was at home both father and daughter were, as a matter of fact, seated together in the library. Mr Sandys had by that time been able to ascertain pretty nearly the extent of his firm's liabilities, and was in complete despair. Elma was kneeling beside her father with her arm lovingly around his neck, nobly trying to comfort him. She had confessed her affection for Roddy, and had spoken of the young man's high hopes and aspirations, and shown her father a hasty letter she had received from him announcing the fact that the concession for emerald mining had actually been granted to him by the Moorish Minister, Mohammed ben Mussa. A new thought arose in Mr Sandys' mind. If Roddy had really been granted the concession for the mines known to exist there--and he had made some searching inquiries during the past week or so--then by dealing with it he might, after all, be able to raise sufficient money to discharge part of the immense liabilities of the firm, and thus stem the tide which must otherwise rise in the course of the next few days and overwhelm him. Elma's father spoke quite openly concerning the situation. "In that case Roddy could marry me, dad," she said. "And further, even if he had no concession, I am poor enough now to marry a poor man," she added. "Yes, my child," was his reply. "If what young Homfray says is true then he can be the saviour of our firm and of our family. I confess I have taken a great liking to the young fellow. I have liked him all along." Then Elma flung herself into her father's arms and kissed him again and again, with tears of joy. Strangely enough her father's ruin had brought about her own happiness. It was at that moment when the footman entered, and said: "Mr Homfray has called, sir, and I told him that you were not at home, as you ordered." Elma looked at her father dismayed. "Has he gone?" she gasped, her face falling. "Yes, miss. He called about five minutes ago." And then the man bowed and retired, while the girl, turning to her father, remarked: "How very unfortunate, dad! I wanted to tell him the good news. But now it must wait until to-morrow. Good-night, dad. Cheer up now, won't you, dearest? This is a black cloud, but it will pass, as all clouds pass sooner or later, and the sun shines out again." And kissing him the girl ran off joyously to her own room. Roddy rose early, as was his wont, and went into his wireless-room, as was his habit each morning to listen to the transatlantic messages, and those from Moscow, Nantes and the rest. His eye rested upon the sensitive little set in the cigar-box, and it occurred to him to test it that day as a portable set in the train and elsewhere. His train arrived at Guildford from Haslemere soon after ten o'clock, therefore he left the station, and climbing the old disused coach-road known as the Mount, reached the long range of hills called the Hog's Back. There, upon the wide grass-grown road which has not been used for nearly a century, he threw up his aerial wire into a high elm and placing in position his ground wire soldered to a long steel skewer he put on the telephones, holding the box in his left hand while he turned the condensers with his right. At once he heard the voice of the radio-telephone operator at Croydon, the shrewd, alert expert with the rolling r's, calling Le Bourget. Signals were excellent. He listened for ten minutes or so and then, drawing down his temporary aerial and withdrawing the skewer from the wet earth, put the cigar-box into the pocket of his raincoat and descended the hill to the station. Upon the platform he awaited the incoming train from Waterloo, and was determined to be at home at five o'clock to meet Edna Manners. The train arrived but without Barclay, so he strolled out into the yard to await the next. In the meantime, however, another striking incident was happening at Park Lane. Old Hughes, summoned to the door, opened it to the smiling, well-dressed Mr Rex Rutherford. "Will you tell Mr Sandys I'm here. And apologise for my early call. I have come on rather pressing business," he said briskly. "Very well, sir," replied Lord Farncombe's old butler rather stiffly, taking his hat and umbrella, and asking him into the library. A couple of minutes later the bearded old financier entered with outstretched hand, and smiling. "I really must apologise, Mr Sandys," Rutherford said. "It's awfully early, I know, but between business men the hour, early or late, doesn't really count--does it? At least, we say so in New York." "I agree," said Mr Sandys with a smile, and then when both were seated, Rutherford said: "I've come to you, Mr Sandys, with a very important proposition--one in which you will at once see big money--the concession for some ancient emerald mines in Morocco." "Do you mean the Wad Sus mines?" asked Sandys, much surprised. "Yes. I have arranged with my friend, His Excellency Mohammed ben Mussa, the Moorish Minister of the Interior, for a concession in perpetuity over the whole region, subject to a payment on results to His Majesty the Sultan." "I really don't understand you," exclaimed Elma's father, looking straight in his face. "A concession has already been granted to a young man of my acquaintance, Mr Homfray." "Not of the same mines--ancient ones, from which one big dark-coloured emerald has quite recently been taken? That can't be?" "But it is." "Have you seen this concession given to your friend, Mr Homfray? I don't know who he is, but I fear it is not worth the paper it is written upon, because here I have a concession which revokes all previous ones, and which will make it penal for anyone who attempts to trespass as a prospector in any part of the Wad Sus region! Here it is! Look for yourself," he said, taking the sealed document from his pocket and handing it to the astonished financier. "Of course," he added, "if the affair is too small for your attention, Mr Sandys, I can easily negotiate it elsewhere. But as we are friends, I thought I would let you have its refusal." Purcell Sandys was utterly staggered. He knew French well, and at a glance he convinced himself that the document was genuine. "And not only have we the concession, but here also is a plan of the exact situation of the mines, together with a statement from one of the Touareg tribesmen, Ben Chaib Benuis, with its French translation. The man, a trusted messenger of the Moorish Government, has quite recently been upon the spot, and has brought back a very large and valuable emerald which is in the possession of an ex-Moorish official at Tangier, and can be seen any day." Mr Sandys scanned the French translation and sat back in wonder. It was quite evident that the concession granted to young Homfray--if there had ever been one--was worthless, for there was the sealed document dated only a few days before which rescinded every other grant made by the Moorish Government. "I, of course, know nothing of your friend Mr Homfray," remarked Rutherford. "But I fear that if he attempts to prospect in the Wad Sus he will be at once arrested. I alone hold the only concession in that district," and slowly picking up both the formidable-looking documents, he carefully refolded them and replaced them in his pocket. "Well, Mr Rutherford," said the pale, thoughtful old financier at last. "I confess I am very much puzzled, and before entering upon this affair as a matter of business I would first like to look into young Homfray's claims." "Very naturally," laughed the easy-going Rutherford. "I should do so myself in the circumstances. I fear, however, that the young man, whoever he is, has somewhat misled you. I'll look in and see you to-morrow morning--about this time--eh?" he added as he rose and left, while Mr Sandys sat speechless and puzzled. When Rutherford had gone he called Elma and told her of his visit. "What? That man here again?" cried the girl. "He can't have any valid concession. Roddy has it. He would never write a lie to _me_!" "My child, we can do nothing until we see and question young Homfray." "You are right, dad. I'll try at once to get hold of him. He is probably at Farncombe. I'll telephone to the Towers and tell Bowyer to go to the Rectory at once." This she did, but half an hour later the reply came back. The maid Bowyer had been to the Rectory, but Mr Homfray was out and would not return till five o'clock. She had left a message from Elma asking him to go to London at once. At five o'clock Mrs Bentley at the Rectory opened the door to Edna Manners, but Roddy had not returned. For an hour she waited, idling most of the time in the garden. Then at last she asked leave to write him a note, which she did in the dead rector's study, and then reluctantly left. The evening passed until at half-past nine a man from the Towers called to ask again for Roddy, but Mrs Bentley repeated that her young master had gone out that morning and had not yet returned. This report was later repeated to Elma over the telephone from the Towers to Park Lane. Meanwhile Mr Sandys telegraphed to the Minister Mohammed ben Mussa in Tangier, asking for confirmation of Mr Rutherford's concession, and just before midnight came a reply that the concession had been granted to Mr Rex Rutherford. Elma's father showed her the reply. All Roddy's assertions were false! All her hopes were crushed. She burst into tears and fled to her room. Mr Sandys, left alone, faced the situation calmly. The only way to stave off ruin would be to deal with Rutherford. Meanwhile the master criminal was playing a clever double game. When he called next morning he asked to see Elma, pleading that he had something very important to say to her. When Hughes brought the message she was at first reluctant to accede to his wish, but in a few moments she steeled herself and walked to the morning-room into which he had been shown. As usual, he was smartly-groomed and the essence of politeness. As he took her hand, he said: "Miss Elma, I want to tell you that I sympathise very much with your father in his great misfortune, the secret of which I happen to know-- though as yet the world suspects nothing. But I fear it soon will, unless your father can come forward with some big and lucrative scheme. I have it in my power to help him with the mining concession in Morocco. I will do so on one condition." "And what is that, Mr Rutherford?" she asked quite calmly. He looked straight into her big, wide-open eyes and, after a second's pause, replied: "That I may be permitted to pay my attentions to you--for I confess that I love you." The girl's cheeks coloured slightly and the expression in her eyes altered. "That cannot be," she said. "I am already engaged." "To that young fellow Homfray, I believe?" he laughed. "Has he not already misled you and your father into believing that he is a rich man, inasmuch that he pretends to have been granted some worthless concession also in Morocco? Surely such a man is not suited to you as a husband, Miss Elma? Could you ever trust him?" "I will not have Mr Homfray's character besmirched in my presence, Mr Rutherford," she said haughtily. "And if this is the matter upon which you wished to speak with me I should prefer that you said nothing further." "Elma! I love you!" he cried, with openly sensual admiration. The girl was horrified and revolted. She told him so, but he treated with a conqueror's contempt her frightened attempts to evade him. She was to be his toy, his plaything--or he would not lift a finger to save her father. On her part she pleaded her love for Roddy, but he told her brutally that the young fellow was a liar. Why had he not produced the concession he alleged he had? A last Elma, compelled to listen to his specious arguments, almost gave up hope, but before leaving the room she declared that she would starve rather than marry him. And then she closed the door after her. Ten minutes later Rutherford was shown into the library, and in his most oleaginous manner greeted the ruined financier. "I have called to keep my appointment, Mr Sandys," he said. "But since I saw you circumstances have altered somewhat, which makes it incumbent upon me to place the concession elsewhere." "Why?" asked Sandys, his face falling. "Well, it is a private matter. I--I really don't care to discuss it, Mr Sandys. Indeed, I think it is best for me to say that our negotiations must conclude here, even though I regret it very deeply. It is not my fault, but the--well, the barrier--lies in another direction." "In what direction?" asked the grey-bearded man who had been clutching at the straw offered him on the previous day. "Well--if you ask Miss Elma, your daughter, she will explain." "My daughter? What has she to do with our propositions?" "I simply repeat my reply, Mr Sandys. I can't say more. To tell the truth, I don't feel capable. I must go now. If you want to see me later you know my telephone number." And taking his hat, he stalked out of the fine library, well knowing himself to be the conqueror. To those who are patient and painstaking the fruits of the world will arrive. But there are exceptions, even though the devil controls his own. When Elma's father sought her he found her in a paroxysm of tears and tried to comfort her. She had thrown herself on a couch at the foot of her bed and was sobbing out her heart. The ruined man told his daughter of Rutherford's visit, and asked her for the explanation which he had said that she alone could give. In a few halting sentences she related what had happened. For some time the old man remained silent, standing at the great window past which the motor-'buses were passing up and down London's street of the wealthy. "Ah! my dear!" he sighed. "I am sorry that you have so unfortunately fallen in love with young Homfray. At first I liked him, I confess. But he seems to have sadly misled you, and is now afraid to face the truth." "I agree, father. But I love him. There is some explanation, I feel sure." "There can be none regarding the emerald concession. Rutherford has it, as well as the plan showing the whereabouts of the mine. I could float a big company to-morrow, even upon the concession and the official plan furnished by the Moorish Minister of the Interior. But he has, alas! now withdrawn his offer." "Because I have refused him," said Elma bitterly. "I love Roddy. How could I possibly become that man's wife?" Her father drew a long breath and shrugged his shoulders. He stood with his back towards her, looking idly out upon the traffic in Park Lane and the Park beyond. "Yes, darling," he said at last. "But you must not sacrifice yourself for me. It would be grossly unfair. I am ruined through no fault of my own, I trust--ruined by a gambling partner who cared for nothing save his obsession with regard to games of chance. Let us say no more about it. Rutherford may take his concession elsewhere, and I will face the music. I have my comfort in my Yogi teaching--in those two words `I am.' I have done my best in life, and to my knowledge have never injured anyone. I have tried to act up to my Yogi teachers, with their magnificent philosophy of the East. Therefore I will face disaster unflinchingly." And seeing his daughter in tears, his further words were choked by emotion. He merely patted her upon the shoulder and, unable to bear the interview longer, withdrew. For a fortnight past Rex Rutherford, like many crooks of his calibre, had actually engaged a "Press agent"--one of those parasites who fasten themselves upon the ambitious and put forward lies and photographs to the Press at so many guineas a time. The crook, in the financial Press, read of his own wonderful financial operations in Paris and in New York, reports which were calculated to raise him in the estimation of the great house of Sandys and Hornton. The City had read of Rex Rutherford day after day, and there were rumours of a great scheme he had for a new electric tube rail system for the outer suburbs of Paris, for which he was negotiating with the French Government. Purcell Sandys had read all this--a Press campaign which had cost the master criminal a mere three hundred pounds. With that sum he had established a reputation in the financial papers. Editors of newspapers cannot always exclude the "puff paragraphs" when they are cleverly concealed by a master of that craft. And it often takes even a shrewd sub-editor to detect the gentle art of self-advertisement. That afternoon the old financier walked alone through the Park as far as Kensington Gardens and back. He knew that the crash must come at latest in a day or two, and Sandys and Hornton must suspend payment. There was no way out. CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. THE SACRIFICE. For Elma the world held no future. Though surrounded by every luxury in that magnificent Park Lane mansion, the millionaire home that was the most notable in all London's modern houses, her only thoughts were of her father and of her lover Roddy. She hated that fat, beady-eyed but elegantly-dressed man whom Mr Harrison had introduced to her father, and who was now so openly making love to her. His words and his manner were alike artificial. The feminine mind is always astute, and she knew that whatever he said was mere empty compliment. She saw upon his lips the sign of sensuousness, a sign that no woman fails to note. Sensuousness and real love are things apart, and every woman can discriminate them. Men are deceivers. Women may, on the other hand, allure, and be it said that the vampire woman like Freda Crisp is ever with us. In the life of London, of Paris, or of New York, the vampire woman in society plays a part which is seldom suspected. They are in a class by themselves, as was Freda Crisp. The vampire woman is the popular term for a woman who lives by preying upon others; men usually, but upon her own sex if occasion demands. Freda Crisp, though few of the characters in this human drama of love and cupidity had suspected her, was a case in point. She was a type that was interesting. As a girl of eighteen everyone admired her for her charm of manner, her conversational gifts and her bright intellect, which was marred only by a rather too lively imagination, and a tendency to romance so ingeniously that no one ever knew if she told the truth or not. Her career was abnormal, and yet not stranger than that of some others in these post-war days. At nineteen she had been to prison for swindling. Physically she was wonderfully fascinating, but her chief characteristic was an absence of all real affection and moral feeling. Even as a girl she could profess passionate love for those from whom she expected profit and gain; but misfortune and death, even of those nearest her, would leave her quite unmoved. She was a perfect type of the modern adventuress. She could act well, and at times would shed tears profusely if she thought it the right thing at the moment. As she grew older her unrestrained coquetry threw her into the vicious adventurous circle of which Gordon Gray was the master and moving spirit. She threw in her lot with him. On board a transatlantic liner on which she went for a trip to New York an officer fell a victim to her charms, and supplied her with money that was not his. His defalcations were discovered, and he committed suicide to escape disgrace. That was the first unpleasant incident in her career after meeting Gray. There were many afterwards. She was a woman whose sole aim was to see and enjoy life. Without heart and without feeling, active, not passive in her love-making, she, like many another woman before her, aspired to power and influence over men, and many an honourable career was wrecked by her, and much gain had gone into the joint pockets of Gordon Gray and herself. Purcell Sandys had been ruined. She knew it, and laughed. She sat in Gray's rooms in St James's smoking a cigarette before going to dine at a restaurant, and was discussing the situation. "Really, my dear Gordon," she said, puffing the smoke from her lips, "you are wonderful! You have the whole affair in your hands. We shall both make a fortune over this concession. The whole thing is as easy as falling off a log, thanks to you." "It hasn't been so easy as you think, my dear Freda, that I can assure you," he replied. "But I think we are now on a fair way towards bringing off our coup. The one great thing in our favour is old Homfray's death. He knew far too much. At any moment he might have given us away. He was the one person in the whole world whom I feared." "And you were a fool to defy him by selling that petty bit of property at Totnes," said the handsome woman. "No, Freda, I wasn't. I did it to prove that I defied him. When one man defies another it causes the defied to think. That is why I did it. I knew his secret--a secret that no parson could face in his own parish. And if he dared to say a word against me I should have told what I knew to the bishop." "Would the bishop have believed you?" "Of course. He had only to look up the date of the criminal trial, then old Homfray, who knew so much of our little business, would have had to face the music. No, Freda, the old sky-pilot was too cute for us. He dared not face the music." "But the girl, Elma Sandys? She's a good sort and--well, Gordon, I tell you, I'm a bit sorry for her." "I'm not. You and I will part for a bit, and I'll marry her. By so doing I'll gain a fortune, and then after a time I'll come back to you, old girl. I won't desert you--I promise that!" "But would you really come back?" asked the woman, after a pause. The stout man put his big hand upon hers and, looking into her eyes, said, "I swear it. We've been in tight corners before, Freda. Surely you can trust me in this--eh? It means big money for both of us, and no further worry for you." "I don't know that I can trust you, Gordon," the woman said, looking him straight in the face. "Bah! you're jealous of the girl!" And he laughed. "She's only a slip of a thing who doesn't count." "But you've taken a fancy to her." "I have, and I mean to marry her. Nothing can prevent that." "I could," snapped the woman. "Yes. But you won't, my dear Freda. If you did--well, you'd forgo all the money that will very soon be yours." "Arthur stands in with us." "Well, I suppose we shall have to give him a little bit. But he'll have to be satisfied with a few hundreds." "He expects a quarter share." "He'll have to go on expecting," laughed her companion. "`Guinness' always expects more than he's entitled to. It is a complaint of his." "And if you married this girl, do you think you would be happy, Gordon?" "Happy? I'm not seeking happiness, my dear girl. I'm after money." "But can't it be managed without your marriage to Elma?" "No, it can't," he declared. "That's one of my conditions to old Sandys. Naturally the girl is thinking of her lover. But she'll soon see that he's deceived her, and then she'll learn to forget him." "I doubt it. I know the temperament of young girls of Elma's stamp." "You're jealous. I repeat!" he said with sarcasm. "Fancy! Your being jealous of Elma! Am I so good-looking and such an Adonis--eh?" "You're anything but that," she replied sharply. "But you see, Gordon, you've taught me never to trust a soul, not even yourself. And I don't. Once you marry that girl you will become a rich man and try to shake me off. But,"--and a fierce expression showed in the woman's eyes--"but I'll watch that you don't. I can say a lot, remember." "And I can also," the man laughed, with a careless air, "but I won't, and neither will you, my dear girl. Silence is best for both of us." "You can carry out the business without marrying Elma," Freda urged. "You have taken every precaution against accident, and the ruin of Sandys has made everything possible. What would Mr Sandys say if he knew that the amiable Mr Rex Rutherford was one of the men to whom Sir Charles Hornton lost that big sum at cards three nights before he killed himself?" Gray drew a long breath. "Well," he said with a bitter smile, "I don't suppose he'd feel very friendly towards me. But the driving of Sir Charles into a corner was, I foresaw, one of the chief points in our game. Sandys is ruined, and I'm the good Samaritan who comes forward at the opportune moment and brings salvation." "Clever," declared the woman, "devilish clever! But you always are, Gordon. You are wonderful." "In combination with yourself, my dear Freda. I'm no good without you," he declared. "So don't exhibit these foolish fits of jealousy. I've made up my mind to marry Sandys' daughter, for it will improve my prestige. When I've had enough of her, I shall simply leave her and we will rejoin forces again," he added callously. And then together they went out to dine at the Ritz. That same evening Elma sat in her room, with the hazy London sunset fading over the Park, confused and wondering. Surely Roddy would not tell her a lie! She took out his scribbled note and re-read it, as she had done a dozen times before. It was a plain and straightforward assertion, and yet the man Rutherford had produced the concession granted to him, properly authenticated and officially sealed. Where was Roddy? Was it really possible, as Rutherford had suggested, that he was in hiding, not daring to come forward now that his lie was proved? She could not bring herself to believe it. And yet why had he so suddenly gone to Farncombe for one night and then taken train to Guildford and disappeared? On the previous day she had been down to Guildford by train from Waterloo, and had made inquiries of the porters and in the booking-office and elsewhere regarding Roddy, whom one or two of the railway servants--knew, but without avail. Roddy had been seen waiting out in the station yard by a clerk in the parcel office. That was all the information she could gather. Therefore, after a cup of coffee at the tea-shop in the old-fashioned High Street, she had returned to London. That evening as she sat pondering, pale and nervous, her maid came into her room and she roused herself wearily. Then she put on a plain little black dinner-frock and went downstairs to the dining-room, where her father, pale-faced and rather morose, awaited her. Hughes, surprised at his master's sudden gravity, served the meal with his usual stateliness, begotten of long service with the Earl. With the footman and Hughes present father and daughter could exchange no confidences. So they hurried over their meal, and found relief when they were back in the library and alone. "I'm utterly puzzled, dad," declared the girl; "I can get no news of Roddy. I'm certain that he would never write that letter and deceive me about the concession. It is his--I'm positive." "But, my dear child, how can it be? I have read the translation of Rutherford's concession. All is in order. It revokes any other permit that has ever been given. It is a firm and unassailable contract." "I don't care what it is," declared the girl. "Roddy would never deceive me. I know his father's death has greatly upset him, but he is still in possession of all his faculties." "But his mental condition was bad, you will remember," remarked her father. "It was. But he is quite well again. I know he would never mislead me, dad!" And she fondled Tweedles, who, barking for recognition, had placed his front paws upon her knees. "Of course," said Mr Sandys, humouring her, "you love Roddy and, of course, believe in him. It is after all but natural, my child." "Yes, dad. You know that I love him. He is so honest, so upright, so true, that I feel confident, though the evidence seems against him, that he has not told a lie. He is the victim of circumstances," the slim girl said, as she stood before the fire with the little dog in her arms. "But unfortunately, dear, he does not come forward," her father said. "Is it not his place to be here after writing you that letter concerning the concession? If he had been granted it, surely he would have come direct to me with it! Homfray is no fool. He knows that I could develop the scheme in the City within a few hours. Therefore why is he not here?" "He is prevented." "How do we know that? He may be prevented--or he may fear to come." "You are not generous towards him, dad," the girl protested. "I'm generous, my dear--most generous," replied the ruined man. "I like Roddy Homfray. His poor father's sudden death was, I fear, a great blow to him, and especially so as he has scarcely entirely recovered from that very strange adventure of his which narrowly cost him his life. But in the present circumstances we must face hard facts. He has written to you making an assertion which he has not substantiated, and which is disproved by the official document which Rex Rutherford has placed in my hands." The girl, still confident in her lover's _bona fides_, shook her head. "There will be ample explanation one day, dad. I'm certain of it," she declared. "I am indeed confident that Roddy has not written to me a deliberate lie." Next day passed, but young Homfray made no sign. Again Elma telephoned to Farncombe, and yet again came the reply that her lover had not returned. His silence puzzled her greatly. Could it be really true that his concession only existed in his own imagination? She loved him too well to think ill of him. Now that she was as poor as he was there could be no barrier to their marriage. Her magnificent home would be swept away, the Towers would be sold again, and her father made bankrupt. She was again standing alone at the window of her room looking across the Park, where the trees were clearly showing the autumn tints. Her face was pale and haggard, her clenched hands trembling. "No, no!" she whispered hoarsely. "I alone can save dad from ruin and bankruptcy. I alone! And I must do it!" That evening, just after Hughes had brought in the tea, her father being in the City, the old man reappeared saying that Mr Rutherford had called. She held her breath, then, with an effort, she gave permission for him to be shown in. The stout, beady-eyed man, in perfect-fitting clothes and a dangling monocle, crossed the carpet, smiling, with hand outstretched. The girl asked him to be seated, and poured him out a cup of tea. Her thoughts were of Roddy, but she strove to crush them down. Her brain was awhirl, for she knew that only by her own sacrifice could her beloved father be saved. Presently, when they had chatted about other things, Rutherford returned to the point and bluntly asked whether she had reconsidered her decision. "Yes, Mr Rutherford, I have," she replied very slowly in a deep, tense voice. "You are prepared to assist my father under a certain condition. That I accept." "Then you will marry me!" he cried, with triumph in his eyes, as he jumped up and seized her hand. Then she felt his hot breath upon her cheek and shrank from his embrace. When he left she went to her room and, locking the door, gave way to another paroxysm of grief. At nine o'clock that night Rutherford called again and told Mr Sandys of Elma's acceptance. The old man stood staggered. "Elma has done this for your sake, Mr Sandys," Rutherford said. "And, after all, it is a marriage of convenience, as so many are. Both our positions will be improved by it, yours and mine, for this concession will mean big money to both of us." Mr Sandys could not reply. His thoughts held him speechless. Elma had sacrificed herself to save him from ruin! But where was Roddy Homfray? That was a problem which neither father nor daughter could solve. Two days later Elma and her father went down to Farncombe Towers, Mr Sandys having already taken preliminary steps for the purpose of floating the Emerald Mines of Morocco. There were rumours in the City concerning it, and a great deal of interest was being taken in the scheme in very influential quarters. Rex Rutherford had not before been to Farncombe, therefore he was now invited. Now that old Norton Homfray was dead he accepted, and spent most of the time rambling with Elma either in the gardens, the park, or the surrounding woods, though she did all in her power to avoid his loathsome caresses. Elma, unknown to Rutherford, managed to call at the Rectory. On inquiring of Mrs Bentley regarding Roddy, the old woman explained that he had returned from abroad, slept one night there, and had gone out next day and had not come back. She knew that he had gone to Guildford, but that was all. "And there's been a young lady here wanting to see him, miss." "A young lady! Who?" "She's a Miss Manners." "Miss Manners!" Elma echoed. "Describe her." The woman did so, and Elma stood open-mouthed. "She was here again three days ago," Mrs Bentley added. "And she seems so eager to see Mr Roddy." "I must see Miss Manners," Elma shouted to the deaf old woman. "You have no idea where she lives, I suppose?" "No. I think she comes from London." "Well, next time she comes let me know at once. Or better, bring her up to the Towers to see me. It is most important that I should see her." Mrs Bentley promised, and Elma, returning to the Towers, told her father of Edna's reappearance. Old Mr Sandys was equally surprised and equally eager to meet her. Where, they wondered, had she been all those months. He telephoned at once to the boarding-house in Powis Square, Bayswater, at which she had lived before her sudden disappearance, but could obtain no news of her whereabouts. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. THE UNKNOWN HAND. What occurred at Guildford station on the morning when Roddy went to meet his friend Barclay by appointment was distinctly curious. Having spent nearly an hour on the Hog's Back, experimenting with his new wireless receiving-set, he packed it up, descended the hill to the station, and was on the platform when the train from Waterloo came in. Barclay, however, was not among the alighting passengers. There being another train a quarter of an hour later, he decided to await it, and strolled out into the station yard. He had just lit a cigarette and was gazing around when he noticed a big limousine car approach and draw up opposite the booking-office. The chauffeur, descending, approached him, touched his cap, and said: "Excuse me, sir. Are you Mr Homfray?" "That's my name," Roddy replied. "Oh, Mr Barclay has sent me for you, sir. He's at the Lion Hotel here. He's got a business engagement, and is sorry he couldn't come along." "Right," answered the young man, crossing to the car, the windows of which were closed. The man opened the door politely and he entered, but as soon as he sat down he heard a strange hissing noise and felt a want of air. He gasped, his eyes burned, and the next second the darkness of unconsciousness fell upon him and he knew no more. The car had, in the seat, a bellows which, as he sat upon it, blew out a poisonous gas. Of what happened afterwards he had no knowledge. When slowly and painfully he regained his senses and became aware of his surroundings, he found himself in a small bare room with a stone floor. He was lying upon some old sacking, while near by, close to the door, stood a plate that had evidently contained food and a broken brown jug with some water, while in close vicinity was his raincoat, which had apparently been flung into a corner. High up in the thick wall was a small window, not more than six inches square. There was no glass in it, so it gave both light and ventilation. He was too weak to move, and his hand, coming into contact with his chin, he was surprised to find that, though usually shaven, he had a growth of beard. Could he have lain there for some days in a state of semi-consciousness? He shouted, but his voice was very weak. There was no response, though he strained his ears to listen. At once he realised that he had again fallen into a trap cunningly prepared for him. That message on the radio-telephone he should not have heeded. He had been a fool! Yet he had believed it to be genuine, because it had been relayed to him by a radio experimenter whom he had known for many months. Probably Barclay was in ignorance of the whole affair, and was wondering what had become of him. And Elma! What would she think? How was she faring? His hollow, deep-set eyes wandered slowly around the bare stone chamber with its dusty beams hung with cobwebs, and its lime-washed walls. An odour of damp and mildew greeted his nostrils, while from outside came the rustle of autumn leaves. He was somewhere out in the country. But where? The empty plate and jug of water told their own tale. He was held there in bondage by his enemies! He could only surmise that during his period of unconsciousness his janitors--whoever they might be--had fed him, giving him just sufficient to keep body and soul together. Had his captors condemned him to death by starvation? It seemed that they had. He stared at the empty plate in horror. From the light in the narrow high-up window he judged the hour to be about noon. The autumn sky was blue and cloudless, and he could hear a sparrow twittering. What, he wondered, had happened? All he could recall was his entering into the motor-car, the strange hissing noise and his sudden asphyxiation. He had evidently walked straight into a trap! Again and again he shouted, but only feebly, for he was very weak, and his brain seemed on fire. His thoughts were all confused. Yet ever and anon, through the mists, came flashes of remembrance of the past, with visions of Elma's beautiful face looking inquiringly into his. His strange adventure in Welling Wood; his love for Elma, his meeting with Mr Sandys, his father's death, and his search in Normandy for the mysterious Miss Manners came before him. But his mental capacity was far from normal. When he reflected he became more than ever puzzled. One thing was plain. He was held by the enemy. In his nervous half-conscious state he fell asleep. How long he slept he had no idea. When he awoke, however, he felt refreshed. Dawn was spreading. He had been asleep for many hours. On the plate lay some tinned meat and some bread! The water jug had been refilled! Whoever was his janitor was determined to keep him alive. With an effort he raised himself, but so weak was he that only by clutching at the wall did he succeed in reaching the jug, from which he drank deeply. Then he crawled around his stone prison with difficulty. He was hungry and ate some of the meat and bread. Afterwards he sat upon the sacks, weak, weary and with wandering brain, trying to locate his exact position. Suddenly, from outside, he heard voices--rough voices in the silence. "Yes. Rotten! I call it! But I'm in for higher wages, and that's a fact! Tom's wages were rose this week," were the words that broke in upon his ear. He raised himself and crawled to the little window, but, despite his struggles, could not reach it. It was far too high. He longed to look out upon the world and ascertain where he was. But that was impossible, and in his weak state he sank back again into unconsciousness. How long he remained he knew not. When he awoke, however, he found himself still beneath the little window. The plate and jug were there, just as he had left them. The rough voices of workers outside had passed in mystery. He ate the remaining portions of the food which was grudgingly given him by an unknown hand, drank some water, and then crossed to his raincoat. In its pocket his cigar-box wireless receiving-set still remained. Then he searched his other pockets, and to his surprise found that his captors had not taken anything. His wallet, with his visiting cards, and some money and other things were still there. "Well," he exclaimed aloud, "this is all astounding. What fresh mystery is there here? Who is it who feeds me when I am unconscious? And how silent it all is! Only the whispers of the leaves, and the twittering of birds. I am alone!" Then after reflection he again spoke aloud to himself. "What can Elma think of my silence? I wrote to her telling her of my good fortune, and I have not seen her since. And again--the girl Manners! She reappeared at the Rectory after I had searched in France for her, and yet we have not met! Mr Sandys told me that it was most important to him that her fate should be ascertained. I have discovered that she is actually alive, and yet I cannot confirm it. I cannot confirm anything--even my letter to Elma about the concession. God!" he shouted in agony of mind. "What can I do? How shall I act?" Again he yelled for help, as he had done times without number. But all was silent. He was in a tomb. In a hazy way he recollected stories of the oubliettes of the Bastille and of the dreaded dungeons of the Chateau of Loches. Here he was confined in a modern dungeon where, if the hand of his unseen janitor were withdrawn, he would die of hunger and thirst! Yes. His father's enemies had indeed triumphed! All his fears were concentrated upon Elma. What was happening to the girl he loved so dearly? If he had fallen into the hands of his enemies, it was only to be supposed that she too--even though she were the daughter of the great financier--had shared the same fate. He recollected how his dead father had warned him against Freda Crisp and Gordon Gray. And yet he felt assured, when he examined his own conscience, that he had never to his knowledge harmed a living soul. He had been enthusiastic in his profession, travelling hither and thither in little known regions of the world prospecting for ore. It was his calling to do so. And now, on his return to England, he had suddenly fallen into one trap after another. Why? That was a problem which he tried to solve until, worried and angry, he once more sank upon the heap of old sacking and again fell asleep, quite exhausted in body and in mind. Two days followed--days of long vigil, eager listening and a strangely dead silence. All he heard was the rustling of leaves and the glad song of the birds. By day he could hear the sparrow, the thrush and the robin, and at night the weird hooting of an owl and the scuttling of rats. His mind was slowly regaining its normal balance. He could think without that bursting sensation in his skull, yet the great mystery which overwhelmed him was the motive why he had been entrapped into captivity as some strange and dangerous animal. "No doubt I am dangerous," he said aloud to himself on the second morning. "Dangerous to those into whose hands I have now fallen--that vampire woman who is actually the friend of Elma! Gad! I can't fathom it. The whole affair is quite beyond my comprehension. Why did my own father warn me of the pair? If he knew them as crooks, why did he not himself openly expose them them--except--except--that--" And he paused, gazing fixedly up at the little window. "Except--that--that perhaps the dear old dad dare not tell the truth! He may have had some secret!" He walked slowly and with difficulty around that small stone chamber. His father had died without revealing to him the truth about Gray and the woman Crisp. Why? "I wonder if Elma will believe me?" he said aloud, in a strange whisper which echoed weirdly around those lime-washed walls. "Will she believe that letter I wrote her regarding the Wad Sus concession? I should have told her so with my own lips, only--only at Park Lane that night I was not wanted. Elma was not at home. Oh! when shall I learn the truth of all this--when shall I be able to explain it all to Elma? When shall I see Barclay?" He was silent for some minutes. Then another mystery was the identity of the person who, being his janitor, supplied him with food. Two further days went by. When he slept, exhausted, his food was renewed-- by whose hands? As he grew stronger in those days since the recovery of his senses he had striven to reach the window and look out. But he had never been able to do so. The little window was fully eight feet above the floor and he had nothing to mount upon to grip its ledge. Time after time he ran at it and sprang in the air, but in his weakened condition he always fell too short. So he gave it up as hopeless. Escape, he realised, was quite impossible. Yet where he was held captive he knew not. His enemies had taken all precautions. They were determined to hold him prisoner, apparently to gain time. Why? One day he had slept heavily all the morning, probably snoring, as he knew he did, when he was awakened by a movement near him. He opened his eyes stealthily but made no sign. Before him, moving across the room, he saw the dim figure of a man in respectable black who carried in his hand a plate containing food. Suddenly the beam of light from the high window lit up his janitor's face, and in an instant he recognised it as the countenance of a man he had seen in his dreams while he had been held prisoner at Willowden--it was, in fact, the old criminal who posed as Gray's butler--the man Claribut. For a few seconds Roddy watched, and then with a sudden effort he sprang up and threw himself upon the fellow at a second when his back was turned. "What the devil do you mean by keeping me here!" he demanded, as he threw his arms around the man's neck and attempted to throw him to the ground. Claribut, taken entirely off his guard, tried to throw off his assailant, uttering a fierce imprecation the while, but the pair were Locked in a deadly embrace. Roddy, though young and athletic, was still too weak to overcome the old man's defence. Around the narrow stone walls they reeled. The door stood open, and Roddy, with a frantic effort, tried to force Claribut towards it, but the old criminal, who had been very athletic in his time, always prevented him. Roddy, weakened and ill, fought for his life, and gradually succeeded in getting his opponent towards the door. He fell and rolled in the dust, but the young fellow would not release his hold. The open door was before him and he was determined to escape. Twice he was near it and endeavoured to throw off his captor, but old Claribut always kept with him and held him by the throat until he was nearly choked. Roddy again struggled to his feet, and with both hands at Claribut's throat at last had the advantage. He saw the man's face purple and his eyes starting. He was close to the door, and if he could only cast the choking man from him he could escape. He drew a long breath for a last frantic effort, but as he did so, Claribut, who had succeeded in drawing a lead-weighted life-preserver from his pocket, raised it and brought it down with crashing force upon the young man's skull. And Roddy Homfray fell like a log upon the stones. CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. THE DEATH-TRAP. When Roddy again became conscious of his surroundings he found himself lying in a corner of the place, so weak that he was scarcely able to move his arms. His head was throbbing, and placing his hand upon it, he found himself suffering from a long scalp wound. He lay for quite an hour staring up at the plaster ceiling which was peeling after many years of neglect. He tried to recall what had occurred. Mistily he remembered his desperate fight for liberty, and how old Claribut had eventually clubbed him with a short, pliable life-preserver. It seemed to be again morning. His lips were parched, his throat contracted, and he felt feverish and ill. Water was there, and he managed to reach it. "What can I do?" he cried faintly to himself. "I must get out of this. I must! How many days have I been here, I wonder?" and again his hand felt his chin. The growth of beard had increased, and by it he knew that already he must have been there a week--or even more. For the hundredth time he glanced at the heavy old door, and saw how a small panel had been sawn out near the bottom to admit the introduction of the plate and jug. The mysterious hand that fed him was that of the old man whom he recollected as having been at Willowden. Outwardly the old fellow seemed feeble, but he certainly was the reverse when put to the test. Roddy ambled across to where his raincoat lay upon the stones. In its pocket was the cigar-box, two coils of wire--aerial and "earth"--and the head-'phones. He opened the box and, as far as he could discover, it was intact. But of what use was it? He sighed and slowly packed it back into the pocket of the coat, which afterwards he dropped back upon the spot whence he had picked it up. Suddenly he heard a footstep outside and the panel in the door was slid back, the grey evil face of old Claribut being revealed in the aperture. "Hulloa!" he exclaimed with a harsh laugh. "So you've come to your senses again--eh? I hope you liked what I gave you for attacking me, young man?" "I only tried to escape," was Roddy's reply. "Well, that you won't do," the other laughed. "You'll never leave here alive. I'll take good care of that." "Oh! We shall see," replied Roddy, whose stout heart had not yet forsaken him. It was not the first time in his life that he had been in a tight corner, and after all he was ever optimistic. The only thing that troubled him was the wound in his head. "You were useful once," said the evil-faced old criminal. "But now you are of no further use. Do you understand that?" "Yes, I do; and no, I don't," was Roddy's defiant reply. "Well, you're only an encumbrance," he said. "And you're young to die like a rat in a hole?" "That's very interesting," Roddy remarked grimly. "And who's going to be my executioner, pray?" "You'll learn that in due course," said his evil-faced janitor, who then opened the door after removing two strong bars. Roddy instantly sprang at him, but he found himself so weak that he was as a child in Claribut's hands. The old man seized him, and dragging him out roughly thrust him down some spiral atone stairs and into a stone chamber below the one in which he had been confined. It was about the same size and smelt damp and mouldy. The window, strongly barred, was as high up as the one in the chamber above. When he had bundled the helpless man down the stairs, with one hand, he took the raincoat and flung it into the chamber after him. All Roddy's protests and struggles were useless. In his weak physical state, still more exhausted by loss of blood from his wound, he was helpless as a child, as Claribut flung him upon the damp shiny stones, saying with a laugh of triumph: "You'll stay there and die--now that you're no longer wanted!" Next second Roddy, lying where he had been flung, heard the door being bolted and barred. He was again alone! He raised himself slowly and painfully from the slimy stones and gazed around. The walls were green and damp and the place smelt muddy. Suddenly his eager ears caught the faint ripple of water. There was a river flowing outside! Again he listened. No longer could he hear Claribut's footsteps, but only the low ripple as the water ran past beneath the window. He judged that the pavement upon which he stood was on a level with the river. But where was he? What was the nature of the place he was in--those strong stone walls that had probably stood there for centuries. In any case the intention of his enemies was that it should be his tomb! It was still morning--early morning he judged it to be. But suddenly as he stood there he saw that the clouds had darkened, and he heard the rain falling slowly upon the surface of the river outside. Gradually the stones upon which he stood became wetter. Water was oozing up from between the crevices everywhere. The river was rising. The ghastly truth all at once fell upon him, benumbing his senses. If the rain continued to fall then the river would rise, and he would be drowned, as Claribut had prophesied--drowned like a rat in a hole! Realisation of the situation held him rigid as a statue. For a few moments he was plunged into despair. Then suddenly a thought came to him. There was still a hundredth chance left. So taking out his pocket-book he scribbled an urgent message to Elma, stating that he was confined in some house beside the river, that the flood was rising, and telling her that he had with him his new wireless receiver, asked her to speak to him, if she chanced to be at Farncombe. He urged her to hasten to his side. His handwriting was irregular, for his hand trembled as he wrote. But having finished it he took out a frayed but plain envelope, and addressed it: "Urgent: Miss Elma Sandys, Farncombe Towers, near Haslemere." Having placed the message inside, he sealed it, and managed, after many futile attempts, to toss it through the barred window. If it fell upon the face of the waters it might be picked up by some inquisitive person out boating or fishing. Yet he knew not what river was flowing by. He had an idea that it was the Thames, because on the previous day he had seen the brilliant flash of light blue as a kingfisher had sped past the window. The envelope fluttered from the window--a forlorn hope. From the crevices in the paving the water was still rising, even though the heavy shower had passed, and the sun was again shining. Feeling a trifle better and more hopeful, he again took out his wireless receiving-set from the pocket of his discarded raincoat. Old Claribut evidently intended that when the river overwhelmed him, and later he might be found dead, his coat should be with him. Had it been left above there might have been more serious suspicions of foul play. Claribut, as an old criminal, left nothing to chance. When Roddy Homfray died there should also be found his belongings. That was what he intended. The first fear which entered Roddy's mind was that the dampness of the stones might have affected the sensitiveness of the set. Eagerly he commenced to string up his aerial to several old nails which he found in the wall above the height of his head. Then he put down an "earth" wire under one of the small stones in the wet floor, which he lifted for that purpose. After preparations which lasted ten minutes or so he held the cigar-box in his hand, and putting on the head-'phones listened and turned the condenser to receive waves of nine hundred metres. In a few moments his heart gave a bound. His set worked and the water had not injured it, for he heard the operator at the London aerodrome telephoning to an aeroplane in flight towards Paris. Those words through the ether gave him renewed courage. His set was working! Would that he could hear Elma's answering voice. The envelope had fluttered from the window, yet the only sound that reached him was the low lapping of the water and the songs of the birds. He listened to the daily traffic in the air, the Morse and telephony, all of which he knew so well. Yet he was unable to call for help. He could only listen--listen for Elma's words of encouragement. But would she ever receive that message tossed at haphazard from that barred high-up window--tossed into the air or upon the water? Which he knew not. An hour later another sharp shower fell, and as it did so the water percolated through the floor until it was quite two inches deep. It was an ugly sign. Would Elma receive his message and come to his rescue? At some moments he gave up the situation as hopeless. His father's reluctance to tell him the truth concerning Gray and his accomplice, the woman Crisp who was actually on visiting terms with Mr Sandys and his daughter, utterly puzzled him. He had trusted his father before all men, yet the poor old rector had died with his secret locked in his heart. A thousand conflicting thoughts arose within him, all weird, mysterious, inscrutable. Why should his own father have held back from him the truth? Why should Mr Sandys demand from him the secret of his discovery of the girl in Welling Wood? What connexion could there be with the City magnate and the girl whom he had believed was dead, but who was certainly still alive? As the day faded the rain, which had ceased for an hour, again fell heavily, and in the dim grey light he could see the water rising almost imperceptibly, until it had already reached his knees. He still listened intently, but though he heard a concert sent out from Marconi House, on four hundred metres, gay music which jarred upon the nerves of a doomed man, and also the voices of amateurs in the vicinity, yet no sound was there of Elma. Would she be able to get the transmission set to work? The thought caused him to hold his breath. Even if she received his message it might be too late if the rain continued and the river rose further! He recollected how, when at Mr Sandys' request he obtained official permission and had erected the telephone transmission set, he had given Elma several lessons in its working until once or twice she had spoken to him at the Rectory from the Towers and had once given him a gramophone selection. He knew that the exact filament current on the valves was necessary for clear speech. Would she remember the exact instructions he had given her? But after all he had merely cast his urgent appeal to the wind. He did not even know whether it had floated upon the water. Perhaps it might have been caught in a tree and would remain unseen until the paper rotted and dropped! Darkness fell, and the only sound that reached his living tomb was the low lapping of the waters, as slowly but surely they rose. There was no acknowledgment of his message. He held the receiver above the level of the waters in breathless expectancy, knowing that if water entered the box its sensibility would at once be destroyed. A weather forecast was given out from the Air Ministry, followed by an amateur in London with bad modulation trying to call a fellow amateur in Liverpool, but no acknowledgment from the girl he loved and from whom he had been so rudely parted. Would she ever get his message of distress? His heart sank when he knew that the chance was so small. Truly his enemies held him powerless, and their intention was that he should either starve or drown! He had hoped against hope, until he, alas! gave up. The river was still rising and very soon the flood must engulf him! CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. A RACE FOR LIFE. The day was a Saturday, and Elma's wedding to Mr Rex Rutherford was fixed for the following Friday. It was to take place at Little Farncombe Church. Rutherford had insisted upon it. Mr Sandys was unaware that he was triumphant over poor old Homfray and his son, and it pleased him to think that they should be married in the village church where old Mr Homfray had been rector. Elma and her father were at the Towers, and Rutherford had motored down to spend the day. He posed as the devoted lover, and really played the part quite well now that he and Freda understood each other. The woman was no longer jealous. He had given her an assurance to return to her. The pair, by Gray's marriage to Elma, would reap a rich harvest at the expense of the poor girl's happiness and future. With Roddy safely out of the way the road was laid open for complete conquest. The coup would be complete. The cold, cheerless day had been very showery, but Rutherford and Mr Sandys had been out all the afternoon with their guns over some rough shooting towards Hindhead. At about five o'clock the neat maid Evans ascended to Elma's room, saying: "James says, miss, that there is a man in the kitchen who wants to see you personally." "What kind of man?" asked the girl, surprised, she being at the moment before the mirror in the feminine act of powdering her face. "James says he's a respectable-looking working man, miss. He won't see anybody but you." "Then I suppose I must see him. Tell James to send him round to the hall. I wonder who he can be? Begging--a starving wife and family, I expect. Ah! our poor ex-service men," she added with a sigh, "they gallantly won the war for us, and now nobody wants them--alas! How very cruel the world is!" A few minutes later she descended the wide oaken staircase and passing into the big, long-panelled hall, with its stained glass windows and its rows of old portraits, where a great wood fire burned, throwing out a sweet fragrance, she met a brown-bearded, burly-looking man in a faded blue suit, standing with his cap in his hand. "I'm sorry, miss, to worry you," he said. "I hope you'll forgive me. Are you Miss Elma Sandys?" "I am." "Well, miss," said the rough fellow, "I've found this 'ere in the water. I work on a timber barge on the Thames and up the Wey. To-day I saw it a-floatin' on the water not far from the old ruined mill near Old Woking, so I picks it up out o' curiosity. It was unstuck, so I read the contents, and I come over 'ere by train as soon as I could." And he handed her a damp letter written in pencil and sadly blurred by the water. Elma held her breath as she recognised the handwriting, much of which was obliterated. She eagerly scanned the lines of writing, and her face went pale as death. After some words with the man, and he had given her certain directions, she managed to thank him, and gave him a pound note, for which he was very grateful. Then she rushed away to the room wherein was the wireless telephone-transmitter installed by Roddy. She turned the key in the door to be private, and at once sat down to the complicated-looking instruments into the intricacies of which her lover had already initiated her. She pulled over the switches so that the generator began to hum, and lit up the filaments of the two big electric globes. These she carefully adjusted till she had the exact current, and taking up the transmitting instrument she was about to speak. The handle of the door turned, and she heard Rutherford's voice calling her. He had come in unexpectedly from shooting, and was motoring back to town before dinner. Forced to switch off the current, she sprang up and opened the door. "Hallo, Rex! I was just about to amuse myself with the wireless!" she said in an affected tone of unconcern, as she joined him in the corridor and they walked together to the hall, where Hughes was ready to serve them in stately manner with tea. Her agony of mind may easily be imagined as she sat there in a low chair beside the log fire, and in pretence of being calm gave her father and her hated lover their tea-cups, while Rutherford was full of praise as to the amount of game that remained upon the pretty old-world English estate so near London. Elma was longing for the fellow to go. She was eager to dash back to the wireless-room and thence speak to her imprisoned lover. The whole situation held her breathless. Roddy was in deadly peril, and she alone could encourage and save him. Those moments were, to her, like hours. She thought to excuse herself and leave the two men together, but she feared lest Rutherford might follow her and overhear her voice on the radio-telephone. So she waited patiently till at last the man rose, and, placing one of his hot, hateful kisses upon her lips, strode out, promising to come down again on the following day if his urgent business concerning the concession would allow. The instant he had stepped into his car, Elma, in a few hurried words, told her father of the strange message from Roddy, and showed to him the half obliterated scribble. "Speak to him at once, dear?" cried Mr Sandys excitedly. "What can it all mean?" Together they hastened to the wireless-room, and very soon Elma had the set going, the generator softly purring, and the valves lighted to their exact brilliancy for clear modulation of the human voice. "Hulloa! Hulloa! Hulloa?" she cried, repeating her call six times. "Hulloa! 3.X.Q.! Hulloa, 3.X.Q.! Can you hear me, 3.X.Q.? This is Elma speaking--Elma speaking to 3.X.Q. All right. I-have-had-your-message-and-I-think-I-know-where-you-are! Hulloa, 3.X.Q. I will investigate at once! Hold on. Elma speaking. I will be with you very soon. 3.X.Q. 3.X.Q.! Elma-has-had-your-message. Listen! I will repeat." And in a clear voice she repeated what she had already said. Afterwards, knowing that her lover could not reply, she went out to meet her father who had already telephoned across to the chauffeur to get the car ready. Both father and daughter put on their hats and mackintoshes and hurried across the back premises to the big well-lit garage. On their way they met Telford, the second gardener. His master told him to get a couple of crowbars and axes and to come along. "I want that axe you use for felling big trees," he added. The man went to the tool-shed in wonder, and placed them in the car. Then all four set out in the rain upon a strange and exciting expedition. The note had been picked up not far from the ruined mill on the bank of the river Wey. From Roddy's message it seemed to the girl that he must certainly be held prisoner within that old mill, so they drove away along the London road through Godalming and Guildford until they found themselves at Woking Station. Then on inquiry, and after losing themselves three times on narrow, intricate roads, they at last came to the bank of the river, a tributary of the Thames, and presently found the dark walls of the half-ruined mill. On pulling up Elma shouted with all her might. "Roddy! Roddy!" There was no response. They saw in the darkness that the river was swollen and was running swiftly towards the Thames. "Roddy! Roddy!" the girl shouted again, whereupon at last there was a very faint response, deep down somewhere. All were silent for a few seconds. "By Gad!" cried Mr Sandys, "he's here! Yes. He's here!" The two servants got out the axes and crowbars and, aided by their master, attacked the heavy iron-bound door of the disused water-mill. At first it resisted them. It was of oak and centuries old, as was the stone structure itself. At last it yielded to the combined efforts of all four. Inside they found a big, bare room of stone, where in the old days the sacks of corn were stored. Soon, having explored the place by the aid of two flash-lamps, and Elma calling constantly, Roddy's voice directed them to the chamber below in which his captors had placed him with such evil intent. At last they descended a flight of winding stone steps, slippery with slime, but on reaching the last step they found the water to be high above their waists. "Roddy!" cried Elma breathlessly, "are you there?" "Yes, dear. I'm here! Try and open the door. But do be careful. The water is rising. It's very deep now!" was the faint reply. They could not see the fastenings of the door on account of the black flood, but after great difficulty, all four succeeded in forcing it open, whereupon Roddy, entirely exhausted in body and in mind and at the limit of his endurance, fell back into the girl's ready arms. Elma's voice from the void had given him courage, and his life had, after all, been saved by wireless! There is an old Spanish proverb which says, "From poverty to wealth is the breadth of two hands: from wealth to poverty, the breadth of two fingers." _De pobre a rico, dos palmos_! _De rico a pobre, dos dedos_. CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. THE COUP. The world of Little Farncombe was agog, for though great secrecy had been preserved it became rumoured that Miss Elma Sandys was to be married to a rich American financier, Mr Rex Rutherford. At the hour appointed for the ceremony the bridegroom, accompanied by his friend, Mr Bertram Harrison--or Arthur Porter, to be exact--arrived at the crowded little church, but as the time went on and the bride did not arrive everyone began to whisper. What hitch could have occurred? Nearly an hour went by when Rutherford went out and telephoned to the Towers, only to receive an astounding reply from Purcell Sandys himself, who said: "My daughter Elma was married to Roderick Homfray by special licence in London this morning, and they are already on their way to the Continent on their honeymoon." The crook stood dumbfounded for a second. Then, uttering a shriek of rage, he banged down the receiver, called Harrison, and they both drove rapidly away in the car together. A trap for them had already been set, for as the car entered Haslemere four constables attempted to hold it up. Gray, seeing this, drew a revolver, fired three shots indiscriminately and dashed past. Meanwhile Edna Manners was sitting with Mr Sandys, whose ward she was, relating to him a very remarkable story. It concerned the death of her _fiance_, Hugh Willard. "But," she said, "old Mr Homfray was, as you know, a friend of poor Hugh, and he was the only man who knew that Gordon Gray--the scoundrel whom you knew as Rutherford--and his accomplice, the woman Crisp, were the actual assassins. Mr Homfray had called upon him in Hyde Park Square on the night of the crime, and was actually in the house and saw the deed committed! The woman held poor Hugh down while the man injected something into his scalp by means of a hypodermic syringe. But Mr Homfray was too late to save him. I suspected that he was cognisant of these facts, but not until I had watched Freda Crisp enter the Rectory by stealth and listened in secret at the window and heard him threaten the woman with exposure did I know that he could clear up the mystery when he wished. But Gray held a secret of Mr Homfray's past. When I had learnt the truth I slipped away in the wood, but was overtaken by Gray himself, and the next I saw was a bright red flash and then I lapsed into semi-consciousness. I shouted to somebody to save me. I have just a faint recollection of some man bending over me, and then I knew no more until my reason returned to me and I found myself living with the shoe-repairer and his wife in Bayeux." "Then it is quite clear that Mr Homfray's son discovered you, but Gray, believing that he had seen you attacked, also attacked him." "Yes," said the girl. "But there was evidently a yet deeper motive. Gray knew that the rector held the secret of poor Mr Willard's death and, I think, feared lest he had disclosed it to his son. Poor Mr Homfray died mysteriously. Perhaps they actually killed him." "To me it seems clear that the reason why young Homfray was not killed outright was because, knowing of the impending concession, they watched their opportunity to obtain it," said Mr Sandys. "Barclay received the very valuable plan of the mine, but it somehow fell into their hands,--a fact which was not discovered till a few days ago--and now I happily have it together with both concessions. At the hour of their triumph they confined Roddy in a place where they knew that a terrible death must sooner or later await him. Having swindled him out of his concession Gray hoped to marry Elma, first having cleverly entrapped Roddy and determined that the rising river should cause his death." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Of this curious sequence of strange and exciting adventures there remains little more to relate, save to say that during the time that Roddy and Elma were on their quiet, delightful honeymoon in Switzerland, Mr Sandys was busy at work on Roddy's original concession, while Andrew Barclay left for Morocco in order to get the original concession confirmed by the Sultan himself--which was done. When the happy pair returned, they found that Mr Sandys was well forward in the retrieving of his lost fortune, for two other commercial ventures which he had regarded as failures had suddenly turned to be great successes--in one case a "boom." Therefore there was now little cause for anxiety. A few months later Roddy and another expert engineer went out to the Wad Sus, and armed with the plan had but little difficulty in re-discovering the ancient workings, which were soon found to be extremely rich in emeralds of the best dark-green colour. Within a year Roddy Homfray, not only reaching the zenith of his happiness with Elma, had also become a comparatively rich man. Of the criminals nothing was heard until about eight months after Elma's marriage, when the Paris Surete discovered that Gray, Porter and the woman Crisp were living in a fine villa near Dinard, and arrested them for the assassination in Paris, three years previously, of old Monsieur Jules Gournay, a banker living in the Avenue de Neuilly, whom the woman Crisp had previously robbed of a large sum of money. Of this crime in March last, after a delay of over a year, Gordon Gray, alias Rex Rutherford and other names, was found guilty by the Assize Court of the Seine, held at Versailles, and duly sent to the guillotine, while both Porter and Freda Crisp were sent to penal servitude for life on the dreaded "Devil's Island," while nothing has since been heard of old Claribut, though a warrant is still out for his arrest. All their cunningly devised schemes had been checkmated by "The Voice from the Void." 
6934	----	[Transcriber's Note: The illustrations have been included with another version of this work. The image files have been named in a straightforward manner that corresponds to the numbering in the text; thus, Illustration 7 is included as file "fig007.png", while Illustration (A) 22 is included as file "fig022a.png".] THE RADIO AMATEUR'S HAND BOOK [Illustration: A. Frederick Collins, Inventor of the Wireless Telephone, 1899. Awarded Gold Medal for same, Alaska Yukon Pacific Exposition, 1909.] THE RADIO AMATEUR'S HAND BOOK A Complete, Authentic and Informative Work on Wireless Telegraphy and Telephony BY A. FREDERICK COLLINS Inventor of the Wireless Telephone 1899; Historian of Wireless 1901-1910; Author of "Wireless Telegraphy" 1905 TO WILLIAM MARCONI INVENTOR OF THE WIRELESS TELEGRAPH INTRODUCTION Before delving into the mysteries of receiving and sending messages without wires, a word as to the history of the art and its present day applications may be of service. While popular interest in the subject has gone forward by leaps and bounds within the last two or three years, it has been a matter of scientific experiment for more than a quarter of a century. The wireless telegraph was invented by William Marconi, at Bologna, Italy, in 1896, and in his first experiments he sent dot and dash signals to a distance of 200 or 300 feet. The wireless telephone was invented by the author of this book at Narberth, Penn., in 1899, and in his first experiments the human voice was transmitted to a distance of three blocks. The first vital experiments that led up to the invention of the wireless telegraph were made by Heinrich Hertz, of Germany, in 1888 when he showed that the spark of an induction coil set up electric oscillations in an open circuit, and that the energy of these waves was, in turn, sent out in the form of electric waves. He also showed how they could be received at a distance by means of a ring detector, which he called a _resonator_ In 1890, Edward Branly, of France, showed that metal filings in a tube cohered when electric waves acted on them, and this device he termed a _radio conductor_; this was improved upon by Sir Oliver Lodge, who called it a coherer. In 1895, Alexander Popoff, of Russia, constructed a receiving set for the study of atmospheric electricity, and this arrangement was the earliest on record of the use of a detector connected with an aerial and the earth. Marconi was the first to connect an aerial to one side of a spark gap and a ground to the other side of it. He used an induction coil to energize the spark gap, and a telegraph key in the primary circuit to break up the current into signals. Adding a Morse register, which printed the dot and dash messages on a tape, to the Popoff receptor he produced the first system for sending and receiving wireless telegraph messages. [Illustration: Collins' Wireless Telephone Exhibited at the Madison Square Garden, October 1908.] After Marconi had shown the world how to telegraph without connecting wires it would seem, on first thought, to be an easy matter to telephone without wires, but not so, for the electric spark sets up damped and periodic oscillations and these cannot be used for transmitting speech. Instead, the oscillations must be of constant amplitude and continuous. That a direct current arc light transforms a part of its energy into electric oscillations was shown by Firth and Rogers, of England, in 1893. The author was the first to connect an arc lamp with an aerial and a ground, and to use a microphone transmitter to modulate the sustained oscillations so set up. The receiving apparatus consisted of a variable contact, known as a _pill-box_ detector, which Sir Oliver Lodge had devised, and to this was connected an Ericsson telephone receiver, then the most sensitive made. A later improvement for setting up sustained oscillations was the author's _rotating oscillation arc_. Since those memorable days of more than two decades ago, wonderful advances have been made in both of these methods of transmitting intelligence, and the end is as yet nowhere in sight. Twelve or fifteen years ago the boys began to get fun out of listening-in to what the ship and shore stations were sending and, further, they began to do a little sending on their own account. These youngsters, who caused the professional operators many a pang, were the first wireless amateurs, and among them experts were developed who are foremost in the practice of the art today. Away back there, the spark coil and the arc lamp were the only known means for setting up oscillations at the sending end, while the electrolytic and crystal detectors were the only available means for the amateur to receive them. As it was next to impossible for a boy to get a current having a high enough voltage for operating an oscillation arc lamp, wireless telephony was out of the question for him, so he had to stick to the spark coil transmitter which needed only a battery current to energize it, and this, of course, limited him to sending Morse signals. As the electrolytic detector was cumbersome and required a liquid, the crystal detector which came into being shortly after was just as sensitive and soon displaced the former, even as this had displaced the coherer. A few years ahead of these amateurs, that is to say in 1905, J. A. Fleming, of England, invented the vacuum tube detector, but ten more years elapsed before it was perfected to a point where it could compete with the crystal detector. Then its use became general and workers everywhere sought to, and did improve it. Further, they found that the vacuum tube would not only act as a detector, but that if energized by a direct current of high voltage it would set up sustained oscillations like the arc lamp, and the value of sustained oscillations for wireless telegraphy as well as wireless telephony had already been discovered. The fact that the vacuum tube oscillator requires no adjustment of its elements, that its initial cost is much less than the oscillation arc, besides other considerations, is the reason that it popularized wireless telephony; and because continuous waves have many advantages over periodic oscillations is the reason the vacuum tube oscillator is replacing the spark coil as a wireless telegraph transmitter. Moreover, by using a number of large tubes in parallel, powerful oscillations can be set up and, hence, the waves sent out are radiated to enormous distances. While oscillator tubes were being experimented with in the research laboratories of the General Electric, the Westinghouse, the Radio Corporation of America, and other big companies, all the youthful amateurs in the country had learned that by using a vacuum tube as a detector they could easily get messages 500 miles away. The use of these tubes as amplifiers also made it possible to employ a loud speaker, so that a room, a hall, or an out-of-door audience could hear clearly and distinctly everything that was being sent out. The boy amateur had only to let father or mother listen-in, and they were duly impressed when he told them they were getting it from KDKA (the Pittsburgh station of the Westinghouse Co.), for was not Pittsburgh 500 miles away! And so they, too, became enthusiastic wireless amateurs. This new interest of the grown-ups was at once met not only by the manufacturers of apparatus with complete receiving and sending sets, but also by the big companies which began broadcasting regular programs consisting of music and talks on all sorts of interesting subjects. This is the wireless, or radio, as the average amateur knows it today. But it is by no means the limit of its possibilities. On the contrary, we are just beginning to realize what it may mean to the human race. The Government is now utilizing it to send out weather, crop and market reports. Foreign trade conditions are being reported. The Naval Observatory at Arlington is wirelessing time signals. Department stores are beginning to issue programs and advertise by radio! Cities are also taking up such programs, and they will doubtless be included soon among the regular privileges of the tax-payers. Politicians address their constituents. Preachers reach the stay-at-homes. Great singers thrill thousands instead of hundreds. Soon it will be possible to hear the finest musical programs, entertainers, and orators, without budging from one's easy chair. In the World War wireless proved of inestimable value. Airplanes, instead of flying aimlessly, kept in constant touch with headquarters. Bodies of troops moved alertly and intelligently. Ships at sea talked freely, over hundreds of miles. Scouts reported. Everywhere its invisible aid was invoked. In time of peace, however, it has proved and will prove the greatest servant of mankind. Wireless messages now go daily from continent to continent, and soon will go around the world with the same facility. Ships in distress at sea can summon aid. Vessels everywhere get the day's news, even to baseball scores. Daily new tasks are being assigned this tireless, wireless messenger. Messages have been sent and received by moving trains, the Lackawanna and the Rock Island railroads being pioneers in this field. Messages have also been received by automobiles, and one inventor has successfully demonstrated a motor car controlled entirely by wireless. This method of communication is being employed more and more by newspapers. It is also of great service in reporting forest fires. Colleges are beginning to take up the subject, some of the first being Tufts College, Hunter College, Princeton, Yale, Harvard, and Columbia, which have regularly organized departments for students in wireless. Instead of the unwieldy and formidable looking apparatus of a short time ago, experimenters are now vying with each other in making small or novel equipment. Portable sets of all sorts are being fashioned, from one which will go into an ordinary suitcase, to one so small it will easily slip into a Brownie camera. One receiver depicted in a newspaper was one inch square! Another was a ring for the finger, with a setting one inch by five-eighths of an inch, and an umbrella as a "ground." Walking sets with receivers fastened to one's belt are also common. Daily new novelties and marvels are announced. Meanwhile, the radio amateur to whom this book is addressed may have his share in the joys of wireless. To get all of these good things out of the ether one does not need a rod or a gun--only a copper wire made fast at either end and a receiving set of some kind. If you are a sheer beginner, then you must be very careful in buying your apparatus, for since the great wave of popularity has washed wireless into the hearts of the people, numerous companies have sprung up and some of these are selling the veriest kinds of junk. And how, you may ask, are you going to be able to know the good from the indifferent and bad sets? By buying a make of a firm with an established reputation. I have given a few offhand at the end of this book. Obviously there are many others of merit--so many, indeed, that it would be quite impossible to get them all in such a list, but these will serve as a guide until you can choose intelligently for yourself. A. F. C. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. HOW TO BEGIN WIRELESS Kinds of Wireless Systems--Parts of a Wireless System--The Easiest Way to Start--About Aerial Wire Systems--About the Receiving Apparatus--About Transmitting Stations--Kinds of Transmitters--The Spark Gap Wireless Telegraph Transmitter--The Vacuum Table Telegraph Transmitter--The Wireless Telephone Transmitter. II. PUTTING UP YOUR AERIAL Kinds of Aerial Wire Systems--How to Put Up a Cheap Receiving Aerial--A Two-wire Aerial--Connecting in the Ground--How to Put up a Good Aerial--An Inexpensive Good Aerial--The Best Aerial That Can be Made--Assembling the Aerial--Making a Good Ground. III. SIMPLE TELEGRAPH AND TELEPHONE RECEIVING SETS Assembled Wireless Receiving Sets--Assembling Your Own Receiving Set--The Crystal Detector--The Tuning Coil--The Loose Coupled Tuning Coil--Fixed and Variable Condensers--About Telephone Receivers-- Connecting Up the Parts--Receiving Set No. 2--Adjusting the No. 1 Set--The Tuning Coil--Adjusting the No. 2 Set. IV. SIMPLE TELEGRAPH SENDING SETS A Cheap Transmitting Set (No. 1)--The Spark Coil--The Battery--The Telegraph Key--The Spark Gap--The Tuning Coil--The High-tension Condenser--A Better Transmitting Set (No. 2)--The Alternating Current Transformer--The Wireless Key--The Spark Gap--The High-tension Condenser--The Oscillation Transformer--Connecting Up the Apparatus--For Direct Current--How to Adjust Your Transmitter. Tuning With a Hot Wire Ammeter--To Send Out a 200-meter Wave Length--The Use of the Aerial Switch--Aerial Switch for a Complete Sending and Receiving Set--Connecting in the Lightning Switch. V. ELECTRICITY SIMPLY EXPLAINED Electricity at Rest and in Motion--The Electric Current and its Circuit--Current and the Ampere--Resistance and the Ohm--What Ohm's Law Is--What the Watt and Kilowatt Are--Electromagnetic Induction--Mutual Induction--High-frequency Currents--Constants of an Oscillation Circuit--What Capacitance Is--What Inductance Is--What Resistance Is--The Effect of Capacitance. VI. HOW THE TRANSMITTING AND RECEIVING SETS WORK How Transmitting Set No. 1 Works--The Battery and Spark Coil Circuit--Changing the Primary Spark Coil Current Into Secondary Currents--What Ratio of Transformation Means--The Secondary Spark Coil Circuit--The Closed Oscillation Circuit--How Transmitting Set No. 2 Works--With Alternating Current--With Direct Current--The Rotary Spark Gap--The Quenched Spark Gap--The Oscillation Transformer--How Receiving Set No. 1 Works--How Receiving Set No. 2 Works. VII. MECHANICAL AND ELECTRICAL TUNING Damped and Sustained Mechanical Vibrations--Damped and Sustained Oscillations--About Mechanical Tuning--About Electric Tuning. VIII. A SIMPLE VACUUM TUBE DETECTOR RECEIVING SET Assembled Vacuum Tube Receiving Set--A Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set--The Vacuum Tube Detector--Three Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector--The Dry Cell and Storage Batteries--The Filament Rheostat--Assembling the Parts--Connecting Up the Parts--Adjusting the Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set. IX. VACUUM TUBE AMPLIFIER RECEIVING SETS A Grid Leak Amplifier Receiving Set. With Crystal Detector--The Fixed Resistance Unit, or Grid Leak--Assembling the Parts for a Crystal Detector Set--Connecting up the Parts for a Crystal Detector--A Grid Leak Amplifying Receiving Set With Vacuum Tube Detector--A Radio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set--An Audio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set--A Six Step Amplifier Receiving Set with a Loop Aerial--How to Prevent Howling. X. REGENERATIVE AMPLIFICATION RECEIVING SETS The Simplest Type of Regenerative Receiving Set--With Loose Coupled Tuning Coil--Connecting Up the Parts--An Efficient Regenerative Receiving Set. With Three Coil Loose Coupler--The A Battery Potentiometer--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up--A Regenerative Audio Frequency Amplifier--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up. XI. SHORT WAVE REGENERATIVE RECEIVING SETS A Short Wave Regenerative Receiver, with One Variometer and Three Variable Condensers--The Variocoupler--The Variometer--Connecting Up the Parts--Short Wave Regenerative Receiver with Two Variometers and Two Variable Condensers--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up. XII. INTERMEDIATE AND LONG WAVE REGENERATIVE RECEIVING SETS Intermediate Wave Receiving Sets--Intermediate Wave Set With Loading Coils--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up--An Intermediate Wave Set with Variocoupler Inductance Coils--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up--A Long Wave Receiving Set--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up. XIII. HETERODYNE OR BEAT LONG WAVE TELEGRAPH RECEIVING SET What the Heterodyne or Beat Method Is--The Autodyne or Self-heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set--The Parts and Connections of an Autodyne or Self-heterodyne, Receiving Set--The Separate Heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set--The Parts and Connections of a Separate Heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set. XIV. HEADPHONES AND LOUD SPEAKERS Wireless Headphones--How a Bell Telephone Receiver is Made--How a Wireless Headphone is Made--About Resistance, Turns of Wire and Sensitivity of Headphones--The Impedance of Headphones--How the Headphones Work--About Loud Speakers--The Simplest Type of Loud Speaker--Another Simple Kind of Loud Speaker--A Third Kind of Simple Loud Speaker--A Super Loud Speaker. XV. OPERATION OF VACUUM TUBE RECEPTORS What is Meant by Ionization--How Electrons are Separated from Atoms--Action of the Two Electrode Vacuum Tube--How the Two Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector--How the Three Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector--How the Vacuum Tube Acts as an Amplifier--The Operation of a Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set--Operation of a Regenerative Vacuum Tube Receiving Set--Operation of Autodyne and Heterodyne Receiving Sets--The Autodyne, or Self-Heterodyne Receiving Set--The Separate Heterodyne Receiving Set. XVI. CONTINUOUS WAVE TELEGRAPH TRANSMITTING SETS WITH DIRECT CURRENT Sources of Current for Telegraph Transmitting Sets--An Experimental Continuous Wave Telegraph Transmitter--The Apparatus You Need--The Tuning Coil--The Condensers--The Aerial Ammeter--The Buzzer and Dry Cell--The Telegraph Key--The Vacuum Tube Oscillator--The Storage Battery--The Battery Rheostat--The Oscillation Choke Coil--Transmitter Connectors--The Panel Cutout--Connecting Up the Transmitting Apparatus--A 100-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter--The Apparatus You Need--The Tuning Coil--The Aerial Condenser--The Aerial Ammeter--The Grid and Blocking Condensers--The Key Circuit Apparatus--The 5 Watt Oscillator Vacuum Tube--The Storage Battery and Rheostat--The Filament Voltmeter--The Oscillation Choke Coil--The Motor-generator Set--The Panel Cut-out--The Protective Condenser--Connecting Up the Transmitting Apparatus--A 200-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter--A 500-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter--The Apparatus and Connections-- The 50-watt Vacuum Tube Oscillator--The Aerial Ammeter--The Grid Leak Resistance--The Oscillation Choke Coil--The Filament Rheostat--The Filament Storage Battery--The Protective Condenser--The Motor-generator--A 1000-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter. XVII. CONTINUOUS WAVE TELEGRAPH TRANSMITTING SETS WITH ALTERNATING CURRENT A 100-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set--The Apparatus Required--The Choke Coils--The Milli-ammeter--The A. C. Power Transformer--Connecting Up the Apparatus--A 200- to 500-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set-A 500- to 1000-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set--The Apparatus Required--The Alternating Current Power Transformer-Connecting Up the Apparatus. XVIII. WIRELESS TELEPHONE TRANSMITTING SETS WITH DIRECT AND ALTERNATING CURRENTS A Short Distance Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 110-volt Direct Lighting Current--The Apparatus You Need--The Microphone Transmitter--Connecting Up the Apparatus--A 25- to 50-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator--The Apparatus You Need--The Telephone Induction Coil--The Microphone Transformer--The Magnetic Modulator--How the Apparatus is Connected Up--A 50- to 100-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator--The Oscillation Choke Coil--The Plate and Grid Circuit Reactance Coils--Connecting up the Apparatus--A 100- to 200-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator--A 50- to 100-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 100-volt Alternating Current--The Apparatus You Need--The Vacuum Tube Rectifier--The Filter Condensers--The Filter Reactance Coil-- Connecting Up the Apparatus--A 100- to 200-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 110-volt Alternating Current--Apparatus Required. XIX. THE OPERATION OF VACUUM TUBE TRANSMITTERS The Operation of the Vacuum Tube Oscillator--The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Direct Current--Short Distance C. W. Transmitter--The Operation of the Key Circuit--The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitting with Direct Current--The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Alternating Current--With a Single Oscillator Tube--Heating the Filament with Alternating Current--The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Alternating Current-- With Two Oscillator Tubes--The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Direct Current--Short Distance Transmitter--The Microphone Transmitter--The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Direct Current--Long Distance Transmitters--The Operation of Microphone Modulators--The Induction Coil--The Microphone Transformer--The Magnetic Modulator--Operation of the Vacuum Tube as a Modulator--The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Alternating Current--The Operation of Rectifier Vacuum Tubes--The Operation of Reactors and Condensers. XX. HOW TO MAKE A RECEIVING SET FOR $5.00 OR LESS. The Crystal Detector--The Tuning Coil--The Headphone--How to Mount the Parts--The Condenser--How to Connect Up the Receptor. APPENDIX Useful Information--Glossary--Wireless Don'ts. LIST OF FIGURES Fig. 1.--Simple Receiving Set Fig. 2.--Simple Transmitting Set (A) Fig. 3.--Flat Top, or Horizontal Aerial (B) Fig. 3.--Inclined Aerial (A) Fig. 4.--Inverted L Aerial (B) Fig. 4--T Aerial Fig. 5.--Material for a Simple Aerial Wire System (A) Fig. 6.--Single Wire Aerial for Receiving (B) Fig. 6.--Receiving Aerial with Spark Gap Lightning Arrester (C) Fig. 6.--Aerial with Lightning Switch Fig. 7.--Two-wire Aerial (A) Fig. 8.--Part of a Good Aerial (B) Fig. 8.--The Spreaders (A) Fig. 9.--The Middle Spreader (B) Fig. 9.--One End of Aerial Complete (C) Fig. 9.--The Leading in Spreader (A) Fig. 10.--Cross Section of Crystal Detector (B) Fig. 10.--The Crystal Detector Complete (A) Fig. 11.--Schematic Diagram of a Double Slide Tuning Coil (B) Fig. 11.--Double Slide Tuning Coil Complete (A) Fig. 12.--Schematic Diagram of a Loose Coupler (B) Fig. 12.--Loose Coupler Complete (A) Fig. 13.--How a Fixed Receiving Condenser is Built up (B) Fig. 13.--The Fixed Condenser Complete (C) and (D) Fig. 13.--Variable Rotary Condenser Fig. 14.--Pair of Wireless Headphones (A) Fig. 15.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Receiving Set No. 1 (B) Fig. 15.--Wiring Diagram for Receiving Set No. 1 (A) Fig. 16.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Receiving Set No. 2 (B) Fig. 16.--Wiring Diagram for Receiving Set No. 2 Fig. 17.--Adjusting the Receiving Set (A) and (B) Fig. 18.--Types of Spark Coils for Set No. 1 (C) Fig. 18.--Wiring Diagram of Spark Coil Fig. 19.--Other Parts for Transmitting Set No. 1 (A) Fig. 20.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Sending Set No. 1 (B) Fig. 20.--Wiring of Diagram for Sending Set No. 1 Fig. 21.--Parts for Transmitting Set No. 2 (A) Fig. 22.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Sending Set No. 2 (B) Fig. 22.--Wiring Diagram for Sending Set No. 2 Fig. 23.--Using a 110-volt Direct Current with an Alternating current Transformer Fig. 24.--Principle of the Hot Wire Ammeter Fig. 25.--Kinds of Aerial Switches Fig. 26.--Wiring Diagram for a Complete Sending and Receiving Set No. 1 Fig. 27.--Wiring Diagram for Complete Sending and Receiving Set No. 2 Fig. 28.--Water Analogue for Electric Pressure Fig. 29.--Water Analogues for Direct and Alternating Currents Fig. 30.--How the Ammeter and Voltmeter are Used Fig. 31.--Water Valve Analogue of Electric Resistance (A) and (B) Fig. 32.--How an Electric Current is Changed into Magnetic Lines of Force and These into an Electric Current (C) and (D) Fig. 32.--How an Electric Current Sets up a Magnetic Field Fig. 33.--The Effect of Resistance on the Discharge of an Electric Current Fig. 34.--Damped and Sustained Mechanical Vibrations Fig. 35.--Damped and Sustained Electric Oscillations Fig. 36.--Sound Wave and Electric Wave Tuned Senders and Receptors Fig. 37.--Two Electrode Vacuum Tube Detectors Fig. 38.--Three Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector and Battery Connections Fig. 39.--A and B Batteries for Vacuum Tube Detectors Fig. 40.--Rheostat for the A or Storage-battery Current (A) Fig. 41.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set (B) Fig. 41.--Wiring Diagram of a Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set Fig. 42.--Grid Leaks and How to Connect them Up Fig. 43.--Crystal Detector Receiving Set with Vacuum Tube Amplifier (Resistance Coupled) (A) Fig. 44.--Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set with One Step Amplifier (Resistance Coupled) (B) Fig. 44.--Wiring Diagram for Using One A or Storage Battery with an Amplifier and a Detector Tube (A) Fig. 45.--Wiring Diagram for Radio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set (B) Fig. 45.--Radio Frequency Transformer (A) Fig. 46.--Audio Frequency Transformer (B) Fig. 46.--Wiring Diagram for Audio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set. (With Vacuum Tube Detector and Two Step Amplifier Tubes) (A) Fig. 47.--Six Step Amplifier with Loop Aerial (B) Fig. 47.--Efficient Regenerative Receiving Set (With Three Coil Loose Coupler Tuner) Fig. 48.--Simple Regenerative Receiving Set (With Loose Coupler Tuner) (A) Fig. 49.--Diagram of Three Coil Loose Coupler (B) Fig. 49.--Three Coil Loose Coupler Tuner Fig. 50.--Honeycomb Inductance Coil Fig. 51.--The Use of the Potentiometer Fig. 52.--Regenerative Audio Frequency Amplifier Receiving Set Fig. 53.--How the Vario Coupler is Made and Works Fig. 54.--How the Variometer is Made and Works Fig. 55.--Short Wave Regenerative Receiving Set (One Variometer and Three Variable Condensers) Fig. 56.--Short Wave Regenerative Receiving Set (Two Variometer and Two Variable Condensers) Fig. 57.--Wiring Diagram Showing Fixed Loading Coils for Intermediate Wave Set Fig. 58.--Wiring Digram of Intermediate Wave Receptor with One Vario Coupler and 12 Section Bank-wound Inductance Coil Fig. 59.--Wiring Diagram Showing Long Wave Receptor with Vario Couplers and 8 Bank-wound Inductance Coils Fig. 60.--Wiring Diagram of Long Wave Autodyne, or Self-heterodyne Receptor (Compare with Fig. 77) Fig. 61.--Wiring Diagram of Long Wave Separate Heterodyne Receiving Set Fig. 62.--Cross Section of Bell Telephone Receiver Fig. 63.--Cross Section of Wireless Headphone Fig. 64.--The Wireless Headphone Fig. 65.--Arkay Loud Speaker Fig. 66.--Amplitone Loud Speaker Fig. 67.--Amplitron Loud Speaker Fig. 68.--Magnavox Loud Speaker Fig. 69.--Schematic Diagram of an Atom Fig. 70.--Action of Two-electrode Vacuum Tube (A) and (B) Fig. 71.--How a Two-electrode Tube Acts as Relay or a Detector (C) Fig. 71--Only the Positive Part of Oscillations Goes through the Tube (A) and (B) Fig. 72.--How the Positive and Negative Voltages of the Oscillations Act on the Electrons (C) Fig. 72.--How the Three-electrode Tube Acts as Detector and Amplifier (D) Fig. 72.--How the Oscillations Control the Flow of the Battery Current through the Tube Fig. 73.--How the Heterodyne Receptor Works Fig. 74.--Separate Heterodyne Oscillator (A) Fig. 75.--Apparatus for Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter. (B) Fig. 75.--Apparatus for Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter. Fig. 76.--Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter Fig. 77--Apparatus of 100-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter Fig. 78.--5- to 50-watt C. W. Telegraph Transmitter (with a Single Oscillation Tube) Fig. 79.--200-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter (with Two Tubes in Parallel) Fig. 80.--50-watt Oscillator Vacuum Tube Fig. 81.--Alternating Current Power Transformer (for C. W. Telegraphy and Wireless Telephony) Fig. 82.--Wiring Diagram for 200- to 500-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set. (With Alternating Current.) Fig. 83--Wiring Diagram for 500- to 1000-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter Fig. 84.--Standard Microphone Transmitter Fig. 85.--Wiring Diagram of Short Distance Wireless Telephone Set. (Microphone in Aerial Wire.) Fig. 86.--Telephone Induction Coil (used with Microphone Transmitter). Fig. 87.--Microphone Transformer Used with Microphone Transmitter Fig. 88.--Magnetic Modulator Used with Microphone Transmitter (A) Fig. 89.--Wiring Diagram of 25--to 50-mile Wireless Telephone. (Microphone Modulator Shunted Around Grid-leak Condenser) (B) Fig. 89.--Microphone Modulator Connected in Aerial Wire Fig. 90.--Wiring Diagram of 50- to 100-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set Fig. 91.--Plate and Grid Circuit Reactor Fig. 92.--Filter Reactor for Smoothing Out Rectified Currents Fig. 93.--100- to 200-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter (A) and (B) Fig. 94.--Operation of Vacuum Tube Oscillators (C) Fig. 94.--How a Direct Current Sets up Oscillations Fig. 95.--Positive Voltage Only Sets up Oscillations Fig. 96.--Rasco Baby Crystal Detector Fig. 97.--How the Tuning Coil is Made Fig. 98.--Mesco loop-ohm Head Set Fig. 99.--Schematic Layout of the $5.00 Receiving Set Fig. 100.--Wiring Diagram for the $5.00 Receiving Set LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A. Frederick Collins, Inventor of the Wireless Telephone, 1899. Awarded Gold Medal for same, Alaska Yukon Pacific Exposition, 1909 Collins' Wireless Telephone Exhibited at the Madison Square Garden, October, 1908 General Pershing "Listening-in" The World's Largest Radio Receiving Station. Owned by the Radio Corporation of America at Rocky Point near Port Jefferson, L. I. First Wireless College in the World, at Tufts College, Mass Alexander Graham Bell, Inventor of the Telephone, now an ardent Radio Enthusiast World's Largest Loud Speaker ever made. Installed in Lytle Park, Cincinnati, Ohio, to permit President Harding's Address at Point Pleasant, Ohio, during the Grant Centenary Celebration to be heard within a radius of one square United States Naval High Power Station, Arlington, Va. General view of Power Room. At the left can be seen the Control Switchboards, and overhead, the great 30 K.W. Arc Transmitter with Accessories The Transformer and Tuner of the World's Largest Radio Station. Owned by the Radio Corporation of America at Rocky Point near Port Jefferson, L. I. Broadcasting Government Reports by Wireless from Washington. This shows Mr. Gale at work with his set in the Post Office Department Wireless Receptor, the size of a Safety Match Box. A Youthful Genius in the person of Kenneth R. Hinman, who is only twelve years old, has made a Wireless Receiving Set that fits neatly into a Safety Match Box. With this Instrument and a Pair of Ordinary Receivers, he is able to catch not only Code Messages but the regular Broadcasting Programs from Stations Twenty and Thirty Miles Distant Wireless Set made into a Ring, designed by Alfred G. Rinehart, of Elizabeth, New Jersey. This little Receptor is a Practical Set; it will receive Messages, Concerts, etc., measures 1" by 5/8" by 7/8". An ordinary Umbrella is used as an Aerial CHAPTER I HOW TO BEGIN WIRELESS In writing this book it is taken for granted that you are: _first_, one of the several hundred thousand persons in the United States who are interested in wireless telegraphy and telephony; _second_, that you would like to install an apparatus in your home, and _third_, that it is all new to you. Now if you live in a city or town large enough to support an electrical supply store, there you will find the necessary apparatus on sale, and someone who can tell you what you want to know about it and how it works. If you live away from the marts and hives of industry you can send to various makers of wireless apparatus [Footnote: A list of makers of wireless apparatus will be found in the _Appendix_.] for their catalogues and price-lists and these will give you much useful information. But in either case it is the better plan for you to know before you start in to buy an outfit exactly what apparatus you need to produce the result you have in mind, and this you can gain in easy steps by reading this book. Kinds of Wireless Systems.--There are two distinct kinds of wireless systems and these are: the _wireless telegraph_ system, and the _wireless telephone_ system. The difference between the wireless telegraph and the wireless telephone is that the former transmits messages by means of a _telegraph key_, and the latter transmits conversation and music by means of a _microphone transmitter_. In other words, the same difference exists between them in this respect as between the Morse telegraph and the Bell telephone. Parts of a Wireless System.--Every complete wireless station, whether telegraph or telephone, consists of three chief separate and distinct parts and these are: (a) the _aerial wire system_, or _antenna_ as it is often called, (b) the _transmitter_, or _sender_, and (c) the _receiver_, or, more properly, the _receptor_. The aerial wire is precisely the same for either wireless telegraphy or wireless telephony. The transmitter of a wireless telegraph set generally uses a _spark gap_ for setting up the electric oscillations, while usually for wireless telephony a _vacuum tube_ is employed for this purpose. The receptor for wireless telegraphy and telephony is the same and may include either a _crystal detector_ or a _vacuum tube detector_, as will be explained presently. The Easiest Way to Start.--First of all you must obtain a government license to operate a sending set, but you do not need a license to put up and use a receiving set, though you are required by law to keep secret any messages which you may overhear. Since no license is needed for a receiving set the easiest way to break into the wireless game is to put up an aerial and hook up a receiving set to it; you can then listen-in and hear what is going on in the all-pervading ether around you, and you will soon find enough to make things highly entertaining. Nearly all the big wireless companies have great stations fitted with powerful telephone transmitters and at given hours of the day and night they send out songs by popular singers, dance music by jazz orchestras, fashion talks by and for the ladies, agricultural reports, government weather forecasts and other interesting features. Then by simply shifting the slide on your tuning coil you can often tune-in someone who is sending _Morse_, that is, messages in the dot and dash code, or, perhaps a friend who has a wireless telephone transmitter and is talking. Of course, if you want to _talk back_ you must have a wireless transmitter, either telegraphic or telephonic, and this is a much more expensive part of the apparatus than the receptor, both in its initial cost and in its operation. A wireless telegraph transmitter is less costly than a wireless telephone transmitter and it is a very good scheme for you to learn to send and receive telegraphic messages. At the present time, however, there are fifteen amateur receiving stations in the United States to every sending station, so you can see that the majority of wireless folks care more for listening in to the broadcasting of news and music than to sending out messages on their own account. The easiest way to begin wireless, then, is to put up an aerial and hook up a receiving set to it. About Aerial Wire Systems.--To the beginner who wants to install a wireless station the aerial wire system usually looms up as the biggest obstacle of all, and especially is this true if his house is without a flag pole, or other elevation from which the aerial wire can be conveniently suspended. If you live in the congested part of a big city where there are no yards and, particularly, if you live in a flat building or an apartment house, you will have to string your aerial wire on the roof, and to do this you should get the owner's, or agent's, permission. This is usually an easy thing to do where you only intend to receive messages, for one or two thin wires supported at either end of the building are all that are needed. If for any reason you cannot put your aerial on the roof then run a wire along the building outside of your apartment, and, finally, if this is not feasible, connect your receiver to a wire strung up in your room, or even to an iron or a brass bed, and you can still get the near-by stations. An important part of the aerial wire system is the _ground_, that is, your receiving set must not only be connected with the aerial wire, but with a wire that leads to and makes good contact with the moist earth of the ground. Where a house or a building is piped for gas, water or steam, it is easy to make a ground connection, for all you have to do is to fasten the wire to one of the pipes with a clamp. [Footnote: Pipes are often insulated from the ground, which makes them useless for this purpose.] Where the house is isolated then a lot of wires or a sheet of copper or of zinc must be buried in the ground at a sufficient depth to insure their being kept moist. About the Receiving Apparatus.--You can either buy the parts of the receiving apparatus separate and hook them up yourself, or you can buy the apparatus already assembled in a set which is, in the beginning, perhaps, the better way. The simplest receiving set consists of (1) a _detector_, (2) a _tuning coil_, and (3) a _telephone receiver_ and these three pieces of apparatus are, of course, connected together and are also connected to the aerial and ground as the diagram in Fig. 1 clearly shows. There are two chief kinds of detectors used at the present time and these are: (a) the _crystal detector_, and (b) the _vacuum tube detector_. The crystal detector is the cheapest and simplest, but it is not as sensitive as the vacuum tube detector and it requires frequent adjustment. A crystal detector can be used with or without a battery while the vacuum tube detector requires two small batteries. [Illustration: Fig. 1.--Simple Receiving Set.] A tuning coil of the simplest kind consists of a single layer of copper wire wound on a cylinder with an adjustable, or sliding, contact, but for sharp tuning you need a _loose coupled tuning coil_. Where a single coil tuner is used a _fixed_ condenser should be connected around the telephone receivers. Where a loose coupled tuner is employed you should have a variable condenser connected across the _closed oscillation circuit_ and a _fixed condenser_ across the telephone receivers. When listening-in to distant stations the energy of the received wireless waves is often so very feeble that in order to hear distinctly an _amplifier_ must be used. To amplify the incoming sounds a vacuum tube made like a detector is used and sometimes as many as half-a-dozen of these tubes are connected in the receiving circuit, or in _cascade_, as it is called, when the sounds are _amplified_, that is magnified, many hundreds of times. The telephone receiver of a receiving set is equally as important as the detector. A single receiver can be used but a pair of receivers connected with a head-band gives far better results. Then again the higher the resistance of the receivers the more sensitive they often are and those wound to as high a resistance as 3,200 ohms are made for use with the best sets. To make the incoming signals, conversation or music, audible to a room full of people instead of to just yourself you must use what is called a _loud speaker_. In its simplest form this consists of a metal cone like a megaphone to which is fitted a telephone receiver. About Transmitting Stations--Getting Your License.--If you are going to install a wireless sending apparatus, either telegraphic or telephonic, you will have to secure a government license for which no fee or charge of any kind is made. There are three classes of licenses issued to amateurs who want to operate transmitting stations and these are: (1) the _restricted amateur license_, (2) the _general amateur license_, and (3) the _special amateur license_. If you are going to set up a transmitter within five nautical miles of any naval wireless station then you will have to get a _restricted amateur license_ which limits the current you use to half a _kilowatt_ [Footnote: A _Kilowatt_ is 1,000 _watts_. There are 746 watts in a horsepower.] and the wave length you send out to 200 _meters_. Should you live outside of the five-mile range of a navy station then you can get a general amateur license and this permits you to use a current of 1 kilowatt, but you are likewise limited to a wave length of 200 meters. But if you can show that you are doing some special kind of wireless work and not using your sending station for the mere pleasure you are getting out of it you may be able to get a _special amateur license_ which gives you the right to send out wave lengths up to 375 meters. When you are ready to apply for your license write to the _Radio Inspector_ of whichever one of the following districts you live in: First District..............Boston, Mass. Second " ..............New York City Third " ..............Baltimore, Md. Fourth " ..............Norfolk, Va. Fifth " ..............New Orleans, La. Sixth " ............. San Francisco, Cal. Seventh " ............. Seattle, Wash. Eighth " ............. Detroit, Mich. Ninth " ..............Chicago, Ill. Kinds of Transmitters.--There are two general types of transmitters used for sending out wireless messages and these are: (1) _wireless telegraph_ transmitters, and (2) _wireless telephone_ transmitters. Telegraph transmitters may use either: (a) a _jump-spark_, (b) an _electric arc_, or (c) a _vacuum tube_ apparatus for sending out dot and dash messages, while telephone transmitters may use either, (a) an _electric arc_, or (b) a _vacuum tube_ for sending out vocal and musical sounds. Amateurs generally use a _jump-spark_ for sending wireless telegraph messages and the _vacuum tube_ for sending wireless telephone messages. The Spark Gap Wireless Telegraph Transmitter.--The simplest kind of a wireless telegraph transmitter consists of: (1) a _source of direct or alternating current_, (2) a _telegraph key_, (3) a _spark-coil_ or a _transformer_, (4) a _spark gap_, (5) an _adjustable condenser_ and (6) an _oscillation transformer_. Where _dry cells_ or a _storage battery_ must be used to supply the current for energizing the transmitter a spark-coil can be employed and these may be had in various sizes from a little fellow which gives 1/4-inch spark up to a larger one which gives a 6-inch spark. Where more energy is needed it is better practice to use a transformer and this can be worked on an alternating current of 110 volts, or if only a 110 volt direct current is available then an _electrolytic interrupter_ must be used to make and break the current. A simple transmitting set with an induction coil is shown in Fig. 2. [Illustration: Fig 2.--Simple Transmitting Set.] A wireless key is made like an ordinary telegraph key except that where large currents are to be used it is somewhat heavier and is provided with large silver contact points. Spark gaps for amateur work are usually of: (1) the _plain_ or _stationary type_, (2) the _rotating type_, and (3) the _quenched gap_ type. The plain spark-gap is more suitable for small spark-coil sets, and it is not so apt to break down the transformer and condenser of the larger sets as the rotary gap. The rotary gap on the other hand tends to prevent _arcing_ and so the break is quicker and there is less dragging of the spark. The quenched gap is more efficient than either the plain or rotary gap and moreover it is noiseless. Condensers for spark telegraph transmitters can be ordinary Leyden jars or glass plates coated with tin or copper foil and set into a frame, or they can be built up of mica and sheet metal embedded in an insulating composition. The glass plate condensers are the cheapest and will serve your purpose well, especially if they are immersed in oil. Tuning coils, sometimes called _transmitting inductances_ and _oscillation transformers_, are of various types. The simplest kind is a transmitting inductance which consists of 25 or 30 turns of copper wire wound on an insulating tube or frame. An oscillation transformer is a loose coupled tuning coil and it consists of a primary coil formed of a number of turns of copper wire wound on a fixed insulating support, and a secondary coil of about twice the number of turns of copper wire which is likewise fixed in an insulating support, but the coils are relatively movable. An _oscillation transformer_ (instead of a _tuning coil_), is required by government regulations unless _inductively coupled_. The Vacuum Tube Telegraph Transmitter.--This consists of: (1) a _source of direct or alternating current_, (2) a _telegraph key_, (3) a _vacuum tube oscillator_, (4) a _tuning coil_, and (5) a _condenser_. This kind of a transmitter sets up _sustained_ oscillations instead of _periodic_ oscillations which are produced by a spark gap set. The advantages of this kind of a system will be found explained in Chapter XVI. The Wireless Telephone Transmitter.--Because a jump-spark sets up _periodic oscillations_, that is, the oscillations are discontinuous, it cannot be used for wireless telephony. An electric arc or a vacuum tube sets up _sustained_ oscillations, that is, oscillations which are continuous. As it is far easier to keep the oscillations going with a vacuum tube than it is with an arc the former means has all but supplanted the latter for wireless telephone transmitters. The apparatus required and the connections used for wireless telephone sets will be described in later chapters. Useful Information.--It would be wise for the reader to turn to the Appendix, beginning with page 301 of this book, and familiarize himself with the information there set down in tabular and graphic form. For example, the first table gives abbreviations of electrical terms which are in general use in all works dealing with the subject. You will also find there brief definitions of electric and magnetic units, which it would be well to commit to memory; or, at least, to make so thoroughly your own that when any of these terms is mentioned, you will know instantly what is being talked about. CHAPTER II PUTTING UP YOUR AERIAL As inferred in the first chapter, an aerial for receiving does not have to be nearly as well made or put up as one for sending. But this does not mean that you can slipshod the construction and installation of it, for however simple it is, the job must be done right and in this case it is as easy to do it right as wrong. To send wireless telegraph and telephone messages to the greatest distances and to receive them as distinctly as possible from the greatest distances you must use for your aerial (1) copper or aluminum wire, (2) two or more wires, (3) have them the proper length, (4) have them as high in the air as you can, (5) have them well apart from each other, and (6) have them well insulated from their supports. If you live in a flat building or an apartment house you can string your aerial wires from one edge of the roof to the other and support them by wooden stays as high above it as may be convenient. Should you live in a detached house in the city you can usually get your next-door neighbor to let you fasten one end of the aerial to his house and this will give you a good stretch and a fairly high aerial. In the country you can stretch your wires between the house and barn or the windmill. From this you will see that no matter where you live you can nearly always find ways and means of putting up an aerial that will serve your needs without going to the expense of erecting a mast. Kinds of Aerial Wire Systems.--An amateur wireless aerial can be anywhere from 25 feet to 100 feet long and if you can get a stretch of the latter length and a height of from 30 to 75 feet you will have one with which you can receive a thousand miles or more and send out as much energy as the government will allow you to send. The kind of an aerial that gives the best results is one whose wire, or wires, are _horizontal_, that is, parallel with the earth under it as shown at A in Fig. 3. If only one end can be fixed to some elevated support then you can secure the other end to a post in the ground, but the slope of the aerial should not be more than 30 or 35 degrees from the horizontal at most as shown at B. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 3.--Flat top, or Horizontal Aerial.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 3.--Inclined Aerial.] The _leading-in wire_, that is, the wire that leads from and joins the aerial wire with your sending and receiving set, can be connected to the aerial anywhere it is most convenient to do so, but the best results are had when it is connected to one end as shown at A in Fig. 4, in which case it is called an _inverted L aerial_, or when it is connected to it at the middle as shown at B, when it is called a _T aerial_. The leading-in wire must be carefully insulated from the outside of the building and also where it passes through it to the inside. This is done by means of an insulating tube known as a _leading-in insulator_, or _bulkhead insulator_ as it is sometimes called. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 4.--Inverted L Aerial.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 4.--T Aerial.] As a protection against lightning burning out your instruments you can use either: (1) an _air-gap lightning arrester,_ (2) a _vacuum tube protector_, or (3) a _lightning switch_, which is better. Whichever of these devices is used it is connected in between the aerial and an outside ground wire so that a direct circuit to the earth will be provided at all times except when you are sending or receiving. So your aerial instead of being a menace really acts during an electrical storm like a lightning rod and it is therefore a real protection. The air-gap and vacuum tube lightning arresters are little devices that can be used only where you are going to receive, while the lightning switch must be used where you are going to send; indeed, in some localities the _Fire Underwriters_ require a large lightning switch to be used for receiving sets as well as sending sets. How to Put Up a Cheap Receiving Aerial.--The kind of an aerial wire system you put up will depend, chiefly, on two things, and these are: (1) your pocketbook, and (2) the place where you live. A Single Wire Aerial.--This is the simplest and cheapest kind of a receiving aerial that can be put up. The first thing to do is to find out the length of wire you need by measuring the span between the two points of support; then add a sufficient length for the leading-in wire and enough more to connect your receiving set with the radiator or water pipe. You can use any size of copper or aluminum wire that is not smaller than _No. 16 Brown and Sharpe gauge._ When you buy the wire get also the following material: (1) two _porcelain insulators_ as shown at A in Fig. 5; (2) three or four _porcelain knob insulators_, see B; (3) either (a) an _air gap lightning arrester,_ see C, or (b) a _lightning switch_ see D; (4) a _leading-in porcelain tube insulator,_ see E, and (5) a _ground clamp_, see F. [Illustration: Fig. 5.--Material for a Simple Aerial Wire System.] To make the aerial slip each end of the wire through a hole in each insulator and twist it fast; next cut off and slip two more pieces of wire through the other holes in the insulators and twist them fast and then secure these to the supports at the ends of the building. Take the piece you are going to use for the leading-in wire, twist it around the aerial wire and solder it there when it will look like A in Fig. 6. Now if you intend to use the _air gap lightning arrester_ fasten it to the wall of the building outside of your window, and bring the leading-in wire from the aerial to the top binding post of your arrester and keep it clear of everything as shown at B. If your aerial is on the roof and you have to bring the leading-in wire over the cornice or around a corner fix a porcelain knob insulator to the one or the other and fasten the wire to it. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 6.--Single Wire Aerial for Receiving.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 6.--Receiving Aerial with Air Gap Lightning Arrester.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 6.--Aerial with Lightning Switch.] Next bore a hole through the frame of the window at a point nearest your receiving set and push a porcelain tube 5/8 inch in diameter and 5 or 6 inches long, through it. Connect a length of wire to the top post of the arrester or just above it to the wire, run this through the leading-in insulator and connect it to the slider of your tuning coil. Screw the end of a piece of heavy copper wire to the lower post of the arrester and run it to the ground, on porcelain knobs if necessary, and solder it to an iron rod or pipe which you have driven into the earth. Finally connect the fixed terminal of your tuning coil with the water pipe or radiator inside of the house by means of the ground clamp as shown in the diagrammatic sketch at B in Fig. 6 and you are ready to tune in. If you want to use a lightning switch instead of the air-gap arrester then fasten it to the outside wall instead of the latter and screw the free end of the leading-in wire from the aerial to the middle post of it as shown at C in Fig. 6. Run a wire from the top post through the leading-in insulator and connect it with the slider of your tuning coil. Next screw one end of a length of heavy copper wire to the lower post of the aerial switch and run it to an iron pipe in the ground as described above in connection with the spark-gap lightning arrester; then connect the fixed terminal of your tuning coil with the radiator or water pipe and your aerial wire system will be complete as shown at C in Fig. 6. A Two-wire Aerial.--An aerial with two wires will give better results than a single wire and three wires are better than two, but you must keep them well apart. To put up a two-wire aerial get (1) enough _No. 16_, or preferably _No. 14_, solid or stranded copper or aluminum wire, (2) four porcelain insulators, see B in Fig. 5, and (3) two sticks about 1 inch thick, 3 inches wide and 3 or 4 feet long, for the _spreaders_, and bore 1/8-inch hole through each end of each one. Now twist the ends of the wires to the insulators and then cut off four pieces of wire about 6 feet long and run them through the holes in the wood spreaders. Finally twist the ends of each pair of short wires to the free ends of the insulators and then twist the free ends of the wires together. For the leading-in wire that goes to the lightning switch take two lengths of wire and twist one end of each one around the aerial wires and solder them there. Twist the short wire around the long wire and solder this joint also when the aerial will look like Fig. 7. Bring the free end of the leading-in wire down to the middle post of the lightning switch and fasten it there and connect up the receiver to it and the ground as described under the caption of _A Single Wire Aerial_. [Illustration: Fig. 7.--Two Wire Aerial.] Connecting in the Ground.--If there is a gas or water system or a steam-heating plant in your house you can make your ground connection by clamping a ground clamp to the nearest pipe as has been previously described. Connect a length of bare or insulated copper wire with it and bring this up to the table on which you have your receiving set. If there are no grounded pipes available then you will have to make a good ground which we shall describe presently and lead the ground wire from your receiving set out of the window and down to it. How to Put Up a Good Aerial.--While you can use the cheap aerial already described for a small spark-coil sending set you should have a better insulated one for a 1/2 or a 1 kilowatt transformer set. The cost for the materials for a good aerial is small and when properly made and well insulated it will give results that are all out of proportion to the cost of it. An Inexpensive Good Aerial.--A far better aerial, because it is more highly insulated, can be made by using _midget insulators_ instead of the porcelain insulators described under the caption of _A Single Wire Aerial_ and using a small _electrose leading-in insulator_ instead of the porcelain bushing. This makes a good sending aerial for small sets as well as a good receiving aerial. The Best Aerial that Can Be Made.--To make this aerial get the following material together: (1) enough _stranded or braided wire_ for three or four lengths of parallel wires, according to the number you want to use (2) six or eight _electrose ball insulators_, see B, Fig. 8; (3) two 5-inch or 10-inch _electrose strain insulators_, see C; (4) six or eight _S-hooks_, see D; one large _withe_ with one eye for middle of end spreader, see E; (6) two smaller _withes_ with one eye each for end spreader, see E; (7) two still smaller _withes_, with two eyes each for the ends of the end spreaders, see E (8) two _thimbles_, see F, for 1/4-inch wire cable; (9) six or eight _hard rubber tubes_ or _bushings_ as shown at G; and (10) two _end spreaders_, see H; one _middle spreader_, see I; and one _leading-in spreader_, see J. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 8--Part of a Good Aerial.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 8.--The Spreaders.] For this aerial any one of a number of kinds of wire can be used and among these are (a) _stranded copper wire;_ (b) _braided copper wire;_ (c) _stranded silicon bronze wire,_ and (d) _stranded phosphor bronze wire_. Stranded and braided copper wire is very flexible as it is formed of seven strands of fine wire twisted or braided together and it is very good for short and light aerials. Silicon bronze wire is stronger than copper wire and should be used where aerials are more than 100 feet long, while phosphor bronze wire is the strongest aerial wire made and is used for high grade aerials by the commercial companies and the Government for their high-power stations. The spreaders should be made of spruce, and should be 4 feet 10 inches long for a three-wire aerial and 7 feet 1 inch long for a four-wire aerial as the distance between the wires should be about 27 inches. The end spreaders can be turned cylindrically but it makes a better looking job if they taper from the middle to the ends. They should be 2-1/4 inches in diameter at the middle and 1-3/4 inches at the ends. The middle spreader can be cylindrical and 2 inches in diameter. It must have holes bored through it at equidistant points for the hard rubber tubes; each of these should be 5/8 inch in diameter and have a hole 5/32 inch in diameter through it for the aerial wire. The leading-in spreader is also made of spruce and is 1-1/2 inches square and 26 inches long. Bore three or four 5/8-inch holes at equidistant points through this spreader and insert hard rubber tubes in them as with the middle spreader. Assembling the Aerial.--Begin by measuring off the length of each wire to be used and see to it that all of them are of exactly the same length. Now push the hard rubber insulators through the holes in the middle spreader and thread the wires through the holes in the insulators as shown at A in Fig 9. Next twist the ends of each wire to the rings of the ball insulators and then put the large withes on the middle of each of the end spreaders; fix the other withes on the spreaders so that they will be 27 inches apart and fasten the ball insulators to the eyes in the withes with the S-hooks. Now slip a thimble through the eye of one of the long strain insulators, thread a length of stranded steel wire 1/4 inch in diameter through it and fasten the ends of it to the eyes in the withes on the ends of the spreaders. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 9.--Middle Spreader.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 9.--One End of Aerial Complete.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 9.--Leading in Spreader.] Finally fasten a 40-inch length of steel stranded wire to each of the eyes of the withes on the middle of each of the spreaders, loop the other end over the thimble and then wrap the end around the wires that are fixed to the ends of the spreaders. One end of the aerial is shown complete at B in Fig. 9, and from this you can see exactly how it is assembled. Now cut off three or four pieces of wire 15 or 20 feet long and twist and solder each one to one of the aerial wires; then slip them through the hard rubber tubes in the leading-in spreader, bring their free ends together as at C and twist and solder them to a length of wire long enough to reach to your lightning switch or instruments. Making a Good Ground.--Where you have to make a _ground_ you can do so either by (1) burying sheets of zinc or copper in the moist earth; (2) burying a number of wires in the moist earth, or (3) using a _counterpoise_. To make a ground of the first kind take half a dozen large sheets of copper or zinc, cut them into strips a foot wide, solder them all together with other strips and bury them deeply in the ground. It is easier to make a wire ground, say of as many or more wires as you have in your aerial and connect them together with cross wires. To put such a ground in the earth you will have to use a plow to make the furrows deep enough to insure them always being moist. In the counterpoise ground you make up a system of wires exactly like your aerial, that is, you insulate them just as carefully; then you support them so that they will be as close to the ground as possible and yet not touch it or anything else. This and the other two grounds just described should be placed directly under the aerial wire if the best results are to be had. In using a counterpoise you must bring the wire from it up to and through another leading-in insulator to your instruments. CHAPTER III SIMPLE TELEGRAPH AND TELEPHONE RECEIVING SETS With a crystal detector receiving set you can receive either telegraphic dots and dashes or telephonic speech and music. You can buy a receiving set already assembled or you can buy the different parts and assemble them yourself. An assembled set is less bother in the beginning but if you like to experiment you can _hook up_, that is, connect the separate parts together yourself and it is perhaps a little cheaper to do it this way. Then again, by so doing you get a lot of valuable experience in wireless work and an understanding of the workings of wireless that you cannot get in any other way. Assembled Wireless Receiving Sets.--The cheapest assembled receiving set [Footnote: The Marvel, made by the Radio Mfg. Co., New York City.] advertised is one in which the detector and tuning coil is mounted in a box. It costs $15.00, and can be bought of dealers in electric supplies generally. This price also includes a crystal detector, an adjustable tuning coil, a single telephone receiver with head-band and the wire, porcelain insulators, lightning switch and ground clamp for the aerial wire system. It will receive wireless telegraph and telephone messages over a range of from 10 to 25 miles. Another cheap unit receptor, that is, a complete wireless receiving set already mounted which can be used with a single aerial is sold for $25.00. [Footnote: The Aeriola Jr., made by the Westinghouse Company, Pittsburgh, Pa.] This set includes a crystal detector, a variable tuning coil, a fixed condenser and a pair of head telephone receivers. It can also be used to receive either telegraph or telephone messages from distances up to 25 miles. The aerial equipment is not included in this price, but it can be bought for about $2.50 extra. Assembling Your Own Receiving Set.--In this chapter we shall go only into the apparatus used for two simple receiving sets, both of which have a _crystal detector_. The first set includes a _double-slide tuning coil_ and the second set employs a _loose-coupled tuning coil_, or _loose coupler_, as it is called for short. For either set you can use a pair of 2,000- or 3,000-ohm head phones. [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. General Pershing Listening In.] The Crystal Detector.--A crystal detector consists of: (1) _the frame_, (2) _the crystal_, and (3) _the wire point_. There are any number of different designs for frames, the idea being to provide a device that will (a) hold the sensitive crystal firmly in place, and yet permit of its removal, (b) to permit the _wire point_, or _electrode_, to be moved in any direction so that the free point of it can make contact with the most sensitive spot on the crystal and (c) to vary the pressure of the wire on the crystal. A simple detector frame is shown in the cross-section at A in Fig. 10; the crystal, which may be _galena_, _silicon_ or _iron pyrites_, is held securely in a holder while the _phosphor-bronze wire point_ which makes contact with it, is fixed to one end of a threaded rod on the other end of which is a knob. This rod screws into and through a sleeve fixed to a ball that sets between two brass standards and this permits an up and down or a side to side adjustment of the metal point while the pressure of it on the crystal is regulated by the screw. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 10.--Cross Section of Crystal Detector.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 10.--The Crystal Detector Complete.] A crystal of this kind is often enclosed in a glass cylinder and this makes it retain its sensitiveness for a much longer time than if it were exposed to dust and moisture. An upright type of this detector can be bought for $2.25, while a horizontal type, as shown at B, can be bought for $2.75. Galena is the crystal that is generally used, for, while it is not quite as sensitive as silicon and iron pyrites, it is easier to obtain a sensitive piece. The Tuning Coil.--It is with the tuning coil that you _tune in_ and _tune out_ different stations and this you do by sliding the contacts to and fro over the turns of wire; in this way you vary the _inductance_ and _capacitance_, that is, the _constants_ of the receiving circuits and so make them receive _electric waves_, that is, wireless waves, of different lengths. The Double Slide Tuning Coil.--With this tuning coil you can receive waves from any station up to 1,000 meters in length. One of the ends of the coil of wire connects with the binding post marked _a_ in Fig. 11, and the other end connects with the other binding post marked _b_, while one of the sliding contacts is connected to the binding post _c_, and the _other sliding contact_ is connected with the binding post _d_. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 11.--Schematic Diagram of Double Slide Tuning Coil.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 11.--Double Slide Tuning Coil Complete.] When connecting in the tuning coil, only the post _a_ or the post _b_ is used as may be most convenient, but the other end of the wire which is connected to a post is left free; just bear this point in mind when you come to connect the tuning coil up with the other parts of your receiving set. The tuning coil is shown complete at B and it costs $3.00 or $4.00. A _triple slide_ tuning coil constructed like the double slide tuner just described, only with more turns of wire on it, makes it possible to receive wave lengths up to 1,500 meters. It costs about $6.00. The Loose Coupled Tuning Coil.--With a _loose coupler_, as this kind of a tuning coil is called for short, very _selective tuning_ is possible, which means that you can tune in a station very sharply, and it will receive any wave lengths according to size of coils. The primary coil is wound on a fixed cylinder and its inductance is varied by means of a sliding contact like the double slide tuning coil described above. The secondary coil is wound on a cylinder that slides in and out of the primary coil. The inductance of this coil is varied by means of a switch that makes contact with the fixed points, each of which is connected with every twentieth turn of wire as shown in the diagram A in Fig. 12. The loose coupler, which is shown complete at B, costs in the neighborhood of $8.00 or $10.00. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 12.--Schematic Diagram of Loose Coupler.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 12.--Loose Coupler Complete.] Fixed and Variable Condensers.--You do not require a condenser for a simple receiving set, but if you will connect a _fixed condenser_ across your headphones you will get better results, while a _variable condenser_ connected in the _closed circuit of a direct coupled receiving set_, that is, one where a double slide tuning coil is used, makes it easy to tune very much more sharply; a variable condenser is absolutely necessary where the circuits are _inductively coupled_, that is, where a loose coupled tuner is used. A fixed condenser consists of a number of sheets of paper with leaves of tin-foil in between them and so built up that one end of every other leaf of tin-foil projects from the opposite end of the paper as shown at A in Fig. 13. The paper and tin-foil are then pressed together and impregnated with an insulating compound. A fixed condenser of the exact capacitance required for connecting across the head phones is mounted in a base fitted with binding posts, as shown at B, and costs 75 cents. (Paper ones 25 cents.) [Illustration: (A) Fig. 13.--How a Fixed Receiving Condenser is Built up.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 13.--The Fixed Condenser Complete.] [Illustration: (C) and (D) Fig. 13.--The Variable Rotary Condenser.] A variable condenser, see C, of the rotating type is formed of a set of fixed semi-circular metal plates which are slightly separated from each other and between these a similar set of movable semi-circular metal plates is made to interleave; the latter are secured to a shaft on the top end of which is a knob and by turning it the capacitance of the condenser, and, hence, of the circuit in which it is connected, is varied. This condenser, which is shown at D, is made in two sizes, the smaller one being large enough for all ordinary wave lengths while the larger one is for proportionately longer wave lengths. These condensers cost $4.00 and $5.00 respectively. About Telephone Receivers.--There are a number of makes of head telephone receivers on the market that are designed especially for wireless work. These phones are wound to _resistances_ of from 75 _ohms_ to 8,000 _ohms_, and cost from $1.25 for a receiver without a cord or headband to $15.00 for a pair of phones with a cord and head band. You can get a receiver wound to any resistance in between the above values but for either of the simple receiving sets such as described in this chapter you ought to have a pair wound to at least 2,000 ohms and these will cost you about $5.00. A pair of head phones of this type is shown in Fig. 14. [Illustration: Fig. 14.--Pair of Wireless Head Phones.] Connecting Up the Parts--Receiving Set No. 1.--For this set get (1) a _crystal detector_, (2) a _two-slide tuning coil_, (3) a _fixed condenser_, and (4) a pair of 2,000 ohm head phones. Mount the detector on the right-hand side of a board and the tuning coil on the left-hand side. Screw in two binding posts for the cord ends of the telephone receivers at _a_ and _b_ as shown at A in Fig. 15. This done connect one of the end binding posts of the tuning coil with the ground wire and a post of one of the contact slides with the lightning arrester or switch which leads to the aerial wire. [Illustration: Fig. 15.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Receiving Set No. 1.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 15.--Wiring Diagram for Receiving Set No. 1.] Now connect the post of the other contact slide to one of the posts of the detector and the other post of the latter with the binding post _a_, then connect the binding post _b_ to the ground wire and solder the joint. Next connect the ends of the telephone receiver cord to the posts _a_ and _b_ and connect a fixed condenser also with these posts, all of which are shown in the wiring diagram at B, and you are ready to adjust the set for receiving. Receiving Set No. 2.--Use the same kind of a detector and pair of head phones as for _Set No. 1_, but get (1) a _loose coupled tuning coil_, and (2) a _variable condenser_. Mount the loose coupler at the back of a board on the left-hand side and the variable condenser on the right-hand side. Then mount the detector in front of the variable condenser and screw two binding posts, _a_ and _b_, in front of the tuning coil as shown at A in Fig. 16. [Illustration: Fig. 16.--Top view of Apparatus Layout for Receiving Set No. 2.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 16.--Wiring Diagram for Receiving Set No. 2.] Now connect the post of the sliding contact of the loose coupler with the wire that runs to the lightning switch and thence to the aerial; connect the post of the primary coil, which is the outside coil, with the ground wire; then connect the binding post leading to the switch of the secondary coil, which is the inside coil, with one of the posts of the variable condenser, and finally, connect the post that is joined to one end of the secondary coil with the other post of the variable condenser. This done, connect one of the posts of the condenser with one of the posts of the detector, the other post of the detector with the binding post _a_, and the post _b_ to the other post of the variable condenser. Next connect a fixed condenser to the binding posts _a_ and _b_ and then connect the telephone receivers to these same posts, all of which is shown in the wiring diagram at B. You are now ready to adjust the instruments. In making the connections use No. 16 or 18 insulated copper wire and scrape the ends clean where they go into the binding posts. See, also, that all of the connections are tight and where you have to cross the wires keep them apart by an inch or so and always cross them at right angles. Adjusting the No. 1 Set--The Detector.--The first thing to do is to test the detector in order to find out if the point of the contact wire is on a sensitive spot of the crystal. To do this you need a _buzzer_, a _switch_ and a _dry cell_. An electric bell from which the gong has been removed will do for the buzzer, but you can get one that is made specially for the purpose, for 75 cents, which gives out a clear, high-pitched note that sounds like a high-power station. Connect one of the binding posts of the buzzer with one post of the switch, the other post of the latter with the zinc post of the dry cell and the carbon post of this to the other post of the buzzer. Then connect the post of the buzzer that is joined to the vibrator, to the ground wire as shown in the wiring diagram, Fig. 17. Now close the switch of the buzzer circuit, put on your head phones, and move the wire point of the detector to various spots on the crystal until you hear the sparks made by the buzzer in your phones. [Illustration: Fig. 17.--Adjusting the Receiving Set.] Then vary the pressure of the point on the crystal until you hear the sparks as loud as possible. After you have made the adjustment open the switch and disconnect the buzzer wire from the ground wire of your set. This done, be very careful not to jar the detector or you will throw it out of adjustment and then you will have to do it all over again. You are now ready to tune the set with the tuning coil and listen in. The Tuning Coil.--To tune this set move the slide A of the double-slide tuner, see B in Fig. 15, over to the end of the coil that is connected with the ground wire and the slide B near the opposite end of the coil, that is, the one that has the free end. Now move the slide A toward the B slide and when you hear the dots and dashes, or speech or music, that is coming in as loud as you can move the B slide toward the A slide until you hear still more loudly. A very few trials on your part and you will be able to tune in or tune out any station you can hear, if not too close or powerful. [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. The World's Largest Radio Receiving Station. Owned by the Radio Corporation of America at Rocky Point near Point Jefferson, L.I.] Adjusting the No. 2 Set.--First adjust the crystal detector with the buzzer set as described above with _Set No. 1,_ then turn the knob of your variable condenser so that the movable plates are just half-way in, pull the secondary coil of your loose-coupled tuner half way out; turn the switch lever on it until it makes a contact with the middle contact point and set the slider of the primary coil half way between the ends. Now listen in for telegraphic signals or telephonic speech or music; when you hear one or the other slide the secondary coil in and out of the primary coil until the sounds are loudest; now move the contact switch over the points forth and back until the sounds are still louder, then move the slider to and fro until the sounds are yet louder and, finally, turn the knob of the condenser until the sounds are clear and crisp. When you have done all of these things you have, in the parlance of the wireless operator, _tuned in_ and you are ready to receive whatever is being sent. CHAPTER IV SIMPLE TELEGRAPH SENDING SETS A wireless telegraph transmitting set can be installed for a very small amount of money provided you are content with one that has a limited range. Larger and better instruments can, of course, be had for more money, but however much you are willing to spend still you are limited in your sending radius by the Government's rules and regulations. The best way, and the cheapest in the end, to install a telegraph set is to buy the separate parts and hook them up yourself. The usual type of wireless telegraph transmitter employs a _disruptive discharge,_ or _spark,_ as it is called, for setting up the oscillating currents in the aerial wire system and this is the type of apparatus described in this chapter. There are two ways to set up the sparks and these are: (1) with an _induction coil,_ or _spark-coil,_ as it is commonly called, and (2) with an _alternating current transformer_, or _power transformer_, as it is sometimes called. Where you have to generate the current with a battery you must use a spark coil, but if you have a 110-volt direct or alternating lighting current in your home you can use a transformer which will give you more power. A Cheap Transmitting Set (No. 1).--For this set you will need: (1) a _spark-coil_, (2) a _battery_ of dry cells, (3) a _telegraph key_, (4) a _spark gap_, (5) a _high-tension condenser_, and (6) an _oscillation transformer_. There are many different makes and styles of these parts but in the last analysis all of them are built on the same underlying bases and work on the same fundamental principles. The Spark-Coil.--Spark coils for wireless work are made to give sparks from 1/4 inch in length up to 6 inches in length, but as a spark coil that gives less than a 1-inch spark has a very limited output it is best to get a coil that gives at least a 1-inch spark, as this only costs about $8.00, and if you can get a 2- or a 4-inch spark coil so much the better. There are two general styles of spark coils used for wireless and these are shown at A and B in Fig. 18. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 18.--Types of Spark Coils for Set. No. 1.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 18.--Wiring Diagram of Spark Coil] A spark coil of either style consists of (_a_) a soft _iron core_ on which is wound (_b_) a couple of layers of heavy insulated wire and this is called the _primary coil_, (_c_) while over this, but insulated from it, is wound a large number of turns of very fine insulated copper wire called the _secondary coil_; (d) an _interrupter_, or _vibrator_, as it is commonly called, and, finally, (e) a _condenser_. The core, primary and secondary coils form a unit and these are set in a box or mounted on top of a hollow wooden base. The condenser is placed in the bottom of the box, or on the base, while the vibrator is mounted on one end of the box or on top of the base, and it is the only part of the coil that needs adjusting. The vibrator consists of a stiff, flat spring fixed at one end to the box or base while it carries a piece of soft iron called an _armature_ on its free end and this sets close to one end of the soft iron core. Insulated from this spring is a standard that carries an adjusting screw on the small end of which is a platinum point and this makes contact with a small platinum disk fixed to the spring. The condenser is formed of alternate sheets of paper and tinfoil built up in the same fashion as the receiving condenser described under the caption of _Fixed and Variable Condensers_, in Chapter III. The wiring diagram C shows how the spark coil is wired up. One of the battery binding posts is connected with one end of the primary coil while the other end of the latter which is wound on the soft iron core connects with the spring of the vibrator. The other battery binding post connects with the standard that supports the adjusting screw. The condenser is shunted across the vibrator, that is, one end of the condenser is connected with the spring and the other end of the condenser is connected with the adjusting screw standard. The ends of the secondary coil lead to two binding posts, which are usually placed on top of the spark coil and it is to these that the spark gap is connected. The Battery.--This can be formed of dry cells or you can use a storage battery to energize your coil. For all coils that give less than a 1-inch spark you should use 5 dry cells; for 1-and 2-inch spark coils use 6 or 8 dry cells, and for 3 to 4-inch spark coils use 8 to 10 dry cells. The way the dry cells are connected together to form a battery will be shown presently. A dry cell is shown at A in Fig, 19. [Illustration: Fig. 19.--Other parts for Transmitting Set No. 1] The Telegraph Key.--You can use an ordinary Morse telegraph key for the sending set and you can get one with a japanned iron base for $1.50 (or better, one made of brass and which has 1/8-inch silver contact points for $3.00. A key of the latter kind is shown at B). The Spark gap.--It is in the _spark gap_ that the high tension spark takes place. The apparatus in which the spark takes place is also called the _spark gap_. It consists of a pair of zinc plugs, called _electrodes_, fixed to the ends of a pair of threaded rods, with knobs on the other ends, and these screw into and through a pair of standards as shown at _c_. This is called a _fixed_, or _stationary spark gap_ and costs about $1.00. The Tuning Coil.--The _transmitting inductance_, or _sending tuning coil_, consists of 20 to 30 turns of _No. 8 or 9_ hard drawn copper wire wound on a slotted insulated form and mounted on a wooden base. It is provided with _clips_ so that you can cut in and cut out as many turns of wire as you wish and so tune the sending circuits to send out whatever wave length you desire. It is shown at _d_, and costs about $5.00. See also _Oscillation Transformer_, page 63 [Chapter IV]. The High Tension Condenser.--High tension condensers, that is, condensers which will stand up under _high potentials_, or electric pressures, can be bought in units or sections. These condensers are made up of thin brass plates insulated with a special compound and pressed into a compact form. The _capacitance_ [Footnote: This is the capacity of the condenser.] of one section is enough for a transmitting set using a spark coil that gives a 2 inch spark or less and two sections connected together should be used for coils giving from 2 to 4 inch sparks. It is shown at _e_. Connecting Up the Apparatus.--Your sending set should be mounted on a table, or a bench, where it need not be moved. Place the key in about the middle of the table and down in front, and the spark coil to the left and well to the back but so that the vibrator end will be to the right, as this will enable you to adjust it easily. Place the battery back of the spark coil and the tuning coil (oscillation transformer) to the right of the spark coil and back of the key, all of which is shown in the layout at A in Fig. 20. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 20.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Sending Set No. 1.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 20.--Wiring of Diagram for Sending Set No. 1.] For the _low voltage circuit_, that is the battery circuit, use _No. 12_ or _14_ insulated copper wire. Connect all of the dry cells together in _series_, that is, connect the zinc of one cell with the carbon of the next and so on until all of them are connected up. Then connect the carbon of the end cell with one of the posts of the key, the zinc of the other end cell with one of the primary posts of the spark coil and the other primary post of the spark coil with the other post of the key, when the primary circuit will be complete. For the _high tension circuits_, that is, the _oscillation circuits_, you may use either bare or insulated copper wire but you must be careful that they do not touch the table, each other, or any part of the apparatus, except, of course, the posts they are connected with. Connect one of the posts of the secondary coil of the spark coil with one of the posts of the spark gap, and the other post with one of the posts of the condenser; then connect the other post of the condenser with the lower spring clip of the tuning coil and also connect this clip with the ground. This done, connect the middle spring clip with one of the posts of the spark gap, and, finally, connect the top clip with the aerial wire and your transmitting set is ready to be tuned. A wiring diagram of the connections is shown at B. As this set is tuned in the same way as _Set No. 2_ which follows, you are referred to the end of this chapter. A Better Transmitting Set (No. 2).--The apparatus for this set includes: (1) an _alternating current transformer_, (2) a _wireless telegraph key_, (3) a _fixed_, a _rotary_, or a _quenched spark gap_, (4) a _condenser_, and (5) an _oscillation transformer_. If you have a 110 volt direct lighting current in your home instead of 110 volt alternating current, then you will also need (6) an _electrolytic interrupter_, for in this case the primary circuit of the transformer must be made and broken rapidly in order to set up alternating currents in the secondary coil. The Alternating Current Transformer.--An alternating current, or power, transformer is made on the same principle as a spark coil, that is, it has a soft iron core, a primary coil formed of a couple of layers of heavy wire, and a secondary coil wound up of a large number of turns of very fine wire. Unlike the spark coil, however, which has an _open magnetic core_ and whose secondary coil is wound on the primary coil, the transformer has a _closed magnetic core_, with the primary coil wound on one of the legs of the core and the secondary wound on the other leg. It has neither a vibrator nor a condenser. A plain transformer is shown at A in Fig. 21. [Illustration: Fig. 21.--Parts for Transmitting Set No. 2.] A transformer of this kind can be bought either (a) _unmounted_, that is, just the bare transformer, or (b) _fully mounted_, that is, fitted with an iron stand, mounted on an insulating base on which are a pair of primary binding posts, while the secondary is provided with a _safety spark gap_. There are three sizes of transformers of this kind made and they are rated at 1/4, 1/2 and 1 kilowatt, respectively, they deliver a secondary current of 9,000, 11,000 and 25,000 volts, according to size, and cost $16.00, $22.00 and $33.00 when fully mounted; a reduction of $3.00, $4.00 and $5.00 is made when they are unmounted. All of these transformers operate on 110 volt, 60 cycle current and can be connected directly to the source of alternating current. The Wireless Key.--For this transmitting set a standard wireless key should be used as shown at B. It is made about the same as a regular telegraph key but it is much heavier, the contact points are larger and instead of the current being led through the bearings as in an ordinary key, it is carried by heavy conductors directly to the contact points. This key is made in three sizes and the first will carry a current of 5 _amperes_[Footnote: See _Appendix_ for definition.] and costs $4.00, the second will carry a current of 10 amperes and costs $6.50, while the third will carry a current of 20 amperes and costs $7.50. The Spark Gap.--Either a fixed, a rotary, or a quenched spark gap can be used with this set, but the former is seldom used except with spark-coil sets, as it is very hard to keep the sparks from arcing when large currents are used. A rotary spark gap comprises a wheel, driven by a small electric motor, with projecting plugs, or electrodes, on it and a pair of stationary plugs on each side of the wheel as shown at C. The number of sparks per second can be varied by changing the speed of the wheel and when it is rotated rapidly it sends out signals of a high pitch which are easy to read at the receiving end. A rotary gap with a 110-volt motor costs about $25.00. A quenched spark gap not only eliminates the noise of the ordinary gap but, when properly designed, it increases the range of an induction coil set some 200 per cent. A 1/4 kilowatt quenched gap costs $10.00. [Footnote: See Appendix for definition.] The High Tension Condenser.--Since, if you are an amateur, you can only send out waves that are 200 meters in length, you can only use a condenser that has a capacitance of .007 _microfarad_. [Footnote: See Appendix for definition.] A sectional high tension condenser like the one described in connection with _Set No. 1_ can be used with this set but it must have a capacitance of not more than .007 microfarad. A condenser of this value for a 1/4-kilowatt transformer costs $7.00; for a 1/2-kilowatt transformer $14.00, and for a 1-kilowatt transformer $21.00. See E, Fig. 19. The Oscillation Transformer.--With an oscillation transformer you can tune much more sharply than with a single inductance coil tuner. The primary coil is formed of 6 turns of copper strip, or No. 9 copper wire, and the secondary is formed of 9 turns of strip, or wire. The primary coil, which is the outside coil, is hinged to the base and can be raised or lowered like the lid of a box. When it is lowered the primary and secondary coils are in the same plane and when it is raised the coils set at an angle to each other. It is shown at D and costs $5.00. Connecting Up the Apparatus. For Alternating Current.--Screw the key to the table about the middle of it and near the front edge; place the high tension condenser back of it and the oscillation transformer back of the latter; set the alternating current transformer to the left of the oscillation transformer and place the rotary or quenched spark gap in front of it. Now bring a pair of _No. 12_ or _14_ insulated wires from the 110 volt lighting leads and connect them with a single-throw, double-pole switch; connect one pole of the switch with one of the posts of the primary coil of the alternating power transformer and connect the other post of the latter with one of the posts of your key, and the other post of this with the other pole of the switch. Now connect the motor of the rotary spark gap to the power circuit and put a single-pole, single-throw switch in the motor circuit, all of which is shown at A in Fig. 22. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 22.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Sending Set No. 2.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 22.--Wiring Diagram for Sending Set No. 2.] Next connect the posts of the secondary coil to the posts of the rotary or quenched spark gap and connect one post of the latter to one post of the condenser, the other post of this to the post of the primary coil of the oscillation transformer, which is the inside coil, and the clip of the primary coil to the other spark gap post. This completes the closed oscillation circuit. Finally connect the post of the secondary coil of the oscillation transformer to the ground and the clip of it to the wire leading to the aerial when you are ready to tune the set. A wiring diagram of the connections is shown at B. For Direct Current.--Where you have 110 volt direct current you must connect in an electrolytic interrupter. This interrupter, which is shown at A and B in Fig. 23, consists of (1) a jar filled with a solution of 1 part of sulphuric acid and 9 parts of water, (2) a lead electrode having a large surface fastened to the cover of surface that sets in a porcelain sleeve and whose end rests on the bottom of the jar. [Illustration: Fig. 23.--Using 110 Volt Direct Current with an Alternating Current Transformer.] When these electrodes are connected in series with the primary of a large spark coil or an alternating current transformer, see C, and a direct current of from 40 to 110 volts is made to pass through it, the current is made and broken from 1,000 to 10,000 times a minute. By raising or lowering the sleeve, thus exposing more or less of the platinum, or alloy point, the number of interruptions per minute can be varied at will. As the electrolytic interrupter will only operate in one direction, you must connect it with its platinum, or alloy anode, to the + or _positive_ power lead and the lead cathode to the - or _negative_ power lead. You can find out which is which by connecting in the interrupter and trying it, or you can use a polarity indicator. An electrolytic interrupter can be bought for as little as $3.00. How to Adjust Your Transmitter. Tuning With a Hot Wire Ammeter.--A transmitter can be tuned in two different ways and these are: (1) by adjusting the length of the spark gap and the tuning coil so that the greatest amount of energy is set up in the oscillating circuits, and (2) by adjusting the apparatus so that it will send out waves of a given length. To adjust the transmitter so that the circuits will be in tune you should have a _hot wire ammeter_, or radiation ammeter, as it is called, which is shown in Fig. 24. It consists of a thin platinum wire through which the high-frequency currents surge and these heat it; the expansion and contraction of the wire moves a needle over a scale marked off into fractions of an ampere. When the spark gap and tuning coil of your set are properly adjusted, the needle will swing farthest to the right over the scale and you will then know that the aerial wire system, or open oscillation circuit, and the closed oscillation circuit are in tune and radiating the greatest amount of energy. [Illustration: Fig. 24.--Principle of the Hot Wire Ammeter.] To Send Out a 200 Meter Wave Length.--If you are using a condenser having a capacitance of .007 microfarad, which is the largest capacity value that the Government will allow an amateur to use, then if you have a hot wire ammeter in your aerial and tune the inductance coil or coils until the ammeter shows the largest amount of energy flowing through it you will know that your transmitter is tuned and that the aerial is sending out waves whose length is 200 meters. To tune to different wave lengths you must have a _wave-meter_. The Use of the Aerial Switch.--Where you intend to install both a transmitter and a receptor you will need a throwover switch, or _aerial switch_, as it is called. An ordinary double-pole, double-throw switch, as shown at A in Fig. 25, can be used, or a switch made especially for the purpose as at B is handier because the arc of the throw is much less. [Illustration: Fig. 25.--Kinds of Aerial Switches.] Aerial Switch for a Complete Sending and Receiving Set.--You can buy a double-pole, double-throw switch mounted on a porcelain base for about 75 cents and this will serve for _Set No. 1_. Screw this switch on your table between the sending and receiving sets and then connect one of the middle posts of it with the ground wire and the other middle post with the lightning switch which connects with the aerial. Connect the post of the tuning coil with one of the end posts of the switch and the clip of the tuning coil with the other and complementary post of the switch. This done, connect one of the opposite end posts of the switch to the post of the receiving tuning coil and connect the sliding contact of the latter with the other and complementary post of the switch as shown in Fig. 26. [Illustration: Fig. 26.--Wiring Diagram for Complete Sending and Receiving Set No. 1.] Connecting in the Lightning Switch.--The aerial wire connects with the middle post of the lightning switch, while one of the end posts lead to one of the middle posts of the aerial switch. The other end post of the lightning switch leads to a separate ground outside the building, as the wiring diagrams Figs. 26 and 27 show. [Illustration: Fig. 27.--Wiring Diagram for Complete Sending and Receiving Set No. 2.] CHAPTER V ELECTRICITY SIMPLY EXPLAINED It is easy to understand how electricity behaves and what it does if you get the right idea of it at the start. In the first place, if you will think of electricity as being a fluid like water its fundamental actions will be greatly simplified. Both water and electricity may be at rest or in motion. When at rest, under certain conditions, either one will develop pressure, and this pressure when released will cause them to flow through their respective conductors and thus produce a current. Electricity at Rest and in Motion.--Any wire or a conductor of any kind can be charged with electricity, but a Leyden jar, or other condenser, is generally used to hold an electric charge because it has a much larger _capacitance_, as its capacity is called, than a wire. As a simple analogue of a condenser, suppose you have a tank of water raised above a second tank and that these are connected together by means of a pipe with a valve in it, as shown at A in Fig. 28. [Illustration: Fig. 28.--Water Analogue for Electric Pressure.] [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. First Wireless College in the World, at Tufts College, Mass.] Now if you fill the upper tank with water and the valve is turned off, no water can flow into the lower tank but there is a difference of pressure between them, and the moment you turn the valve on a current of water will flow through the pipe. In very much the same way when you have a condenser charged with electricity the latter will be under _pressure,_ that is, a _difference of potential_ will be set up, for one of the sheets of metal will be charged positively and the other one, which is insulated from it, will be charged negatively, as shown at B. On closing the switch the opposite charges rush together and form a current which flows to and fro between the metal plates. [Footnote: Strictly speaking it is the difference of potential that sets up the electromotive force.] The Electric Current and Its Circuit.--Just as water flowing through a pipe has _quantity_ and _pressure_ back of it and the pipe offers friction to it which tends to hold back the water, so, likewise, does electricity flowing in a circuit have: (1) _quantity_, or _current strength_, or just _current_, as it is called for short, or _amperage_, and (2) _pressure_, or _potential difference_, or _electromotive force_, or _voltage_, as it is variously called, and the wire, or circuit, in which the current is flowing has (3) _resistance_ which tends to hold back the current. A definite relation exists between the current and its electromotive force and also between the current, electromotive force and the resistance of the circuit; and if you will get this relationship clearly in your mind you will have a very good insight into how direct and alternating currents act. To keep a quantity of water flowing in a loop of pipe, which we will call the circuit, pressure must be applied to it and this may be done by a rotary pump as shown at A in Fig. 29; in the same way, to keep a quantity of electricity flowing in a loop of wire, or circuit, a battery, or other means for generating electric pressure must be used, as shown at B. [Illustration: Fig. 29.--Water Analogues for Direct and Alternating Currents.] If you have a closed pipe connected with a piston pump, as at C, as the piston moves to and fro the water in the pipe will move first one way and then the other. So also when an alternating current generator is connected to a wire circuit, as at D, the current will flow first in one direction and then in the other, and this is what is called an _alternating current_. Current and the Ampere.--The amount of water flowing in a closed pipe is the same at all parts of it and this is also true of an electric current, in that there is exactly the same quantity of electricity at one point of the circuit as there is at any other. The amount of electricity, or current, flowing in a circuit in a second is measured by a unit called the _ampere_, [Footnote: For definition of _ampere_ see _Appendix._] and it is expressed by the symbol I. [Footnote: This is because the letter C is used for the symbol of _capacitance_] Just to give you an idea of the quantity of current an _ampere_ is we will say that a dry cell when fresh gives a current of about 20 amperes. To measure the current in amperes an instrument called an _ammeter_ is used, as shown at A in Fig. 30, and this is always connected in _series_ with the line, as shown at B. [Illustration: Fig. 30.--How the Ammeter and Voltmeter are Used.] Electromotive Force and the Volt.--When you have a pipe filled with water or a circuit charged with electricity and you want to make them flow you must use a pump in the first case and a battery or a dynamo in the second case. It is the battery or dynamo that sets up the electric pressure as the circuit itself is always charged with electricity. The more cells you connect together in _series_ the greater will be the electric pressure developed and the more current it will move along just as the amount of water flowing in a pipe can be increased by increasing the pressure of the pump. The unit of electromotive force is the _volt_, and this is the electric pressure which will force a current of _1 ampere_ through a resistance of _1 ohm_; it is expressed by the symbol _E_. A fresh dry cell will deliver a current of about 1.5 volts. To measure the pressure of a current in volts an instrument called a _voltmeter_ is used, as shown at C in Fig. 30, and this is always connected across the circuit, as shown at D. Resistance and the Ohm.--Just as a water pipe offers a certain amount of resistance to the flow of water through it, so a circuit opposes the flow of electricity in it and this is called _resistance_. Further, in the same way that a small pipe will not allow a large amount of water to flow through it, so, too, a thin wire limits the flow of the current in it. If you connect a _resistance coil_ in a circuit it acts in the same way as partly closing the valve in a pipe, as shown at A and B in Fig. 31. The resistance of a circuit is measured by a unit called the _ohm_, and it is expressed by the symbol _R_. A No. 10, Brown and Sharpe gauge soft copper wire, 1,000 feet long, has a resistance of about 1 ohm. To measure the resistance of a circuit an apparatus called a _resistance bridge is used_. The resistance of a circuit can, however, be easily calculated, as the following shows. [Illustration: Fig. 31.--Water Valve Analogue of Electric Resistance. A- a valve limits the flow of water. B- a resistance limits the flow of current.] What Ohm's Law Is.--If, now, (1) you know what the current flowing in a circuit is in _amperes_, and the electromotive force, or pressure, is in _volts_, you can then easily find what the resistance is in _ohms_ of the circuit in which the current is flowing by this formula: Volts E --------- = Ohms, or --- = R Amperes I That is, if you divide the current in amperes by the electromotive force in volts the quotient will give you the resistance in ohms. Or (2) if you know what the electromotive force of the current is in _volts_ and the resistance of the circuit is in _ohms_ then you can find what the current flowing in the circuit is in _amperes_, thus: Volts E ----- = Amperes, or --- = I Ohms R That is, by dividing the resistance of the circuit in ohms, by the electromotive force of the current you will get the amperes flowing in the circuit. Finally (3) if you know what the resistance of the circuit is in _ohms_ and the current is in _amperes_ then you can find what the electromotive force is in _volts_ since: Ohms x Amperes = Volts, or R x I = E That is, if you multiply the resistance of the circuit in ohms by the current in amperes the result will give you the electromotive force in volts. From this you will see that if you know the value of any two of the constants you can find the value of the unknown constant by a simple arithmetical process. This relation between these three constants is known as _Ohm's Law_ and as they are very important you should memorize them. What the Watt and Kilowatt Are.--Just as _horsepower_ or _H.P._, is the unit of work that steam has done or can do, so the _watt_ is the unit of work that an electric current has done or can do. To find the _watts_ a current develops you need only to multiply the _amperes_ by the _volts_. There are _746 watts_ to _1 horsepower, and 1,000 watts are equal to 1 kilowatt_. Electromagnetic Induction.--To show that a current of electricity sets up a magnetic field around it you have only to hold a compass over a wire whose ends are connected with a battery when the needle will swing at right angles to the length of the wire. By winding an insulated wire into a coil and connecting the ends of the latter with a battery you will find, if you test it with a compass, that the coil is magnetic. This is due to the fact that the energy of an electric current flowing in the wire is partly changed into magnetic lines of force which rotate at right angles about it as shown at A in Fig. 32. The magnetic field produced by the current flowing in the coil is precisely the same as that set up by a permanent steel magnet. Conversely, when a magnetic line of force is set up a part of its energy goes to make up electric currents which whirl about in a like manner, as shown at B. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 32.--How an Electric Current is Changed into Magnetic Lines of Force and These into an Electric Current.] [Illustration: (C) and (D) Fig. 32.--How an Electric Current Sets up a Magnetic Field.] Self-induction or Inductance.--When a current is made to flow in a coil of wire the magnetic lines of force produced are concentrated, as at C, just as a lens concentrates rays of light, and this forms an intense _magnetic field_, as it is called. Now if a bar of soft iron is brought close to one end of the coil of wire, or, better still, if it is pushed into the coil, it will be magnetized by _electromagnetic induction,_ see D, and it will remain a magnet until the current is cut off. Mutual Induction.--When two loops of wire, or better, two coils of wire, are placed close together the electromagnetic induction between them is reactive, that is, when a current is made to flow through one of the coils closed magnetic lines of force are set up and when these cut the other loop or turns of wire of the other coil, they in turn produce electric currents in it. It is the mutual induction that takes place between two coils of wire which makes it possible to transform _low voltage currents_ from a battery or a 110 volt source of current into high pressure currents, or _high potential currents_, as they are called, by means of a spark coil or a transformer, as well as to _step up_ and _step down_ the potential of the high frequency currents that are set up in sending and receiving oscillation transformers. Soft iron cores are not used in oscillation inductance coils and oscillation transformers for the reason that the frequency of the current is so high the iron would not have time to magnetize and demagnetize and so would not help along the mutual induction to any appreciable extent. High-Frequency Currents.--High frequency currents, or electric oscillations as they are called, are currents of electricity that surge to and fro in a circuit a million times, more or less, per second. Currents of such high frequencies will _oscillate_, that is, surge to and fro, in an _open circuit_, such as an aerial wire system, as well as in a _closed circuit_. Now there is only one method by which currents of high frequency, or _radio-frequency_, as they are termed, can be set up by spark transmitters, and this is by discharging a charged condenser through a circuit having a small resistance. To charge a condenser a spark coil or a transformer is used and the ends of the secondary coil, which delivers the high potential alternating current, are connected with the condenser. To discharge the condenser automatically a _spark,_ or an _arc,_ or the _flow of electrons_ in a vacuum tube, is employed. Constants of an Oscillation Circuit.--An oscillation circuit, as pointed out before, is one in which high frequency currents surge or oscillate. Now the number of times a high frequency current will surge forth and back in a circuit depends upon three factors of the latter and these are called the constants of the circuit, namely: (1) its _capacitance,_ (2) its _inductance_ and (3) its _resistance._ What Capacitance Is.--The word _capacitance_ means the _electrostatic capacity_ of a condenser or a circuit. The capacitance of a condenser or a circuit is the quantity of electricity which will raise its pressure, or potential, to a given amount. The capacitance of a condenser or a circuit depends on its size and form and the voltage of the current that is charging it. The capacitance of a condenser or a circuit is directly proportional to the quantity of electricity that will keep the charge at a given potential. The _farad,_ whose symbol is _M,_ is the unit of capacitance and a condenser or a circuit to have a capacitance of one farad must be of such size that one _coulomb,_ which is the unit of electrical quantity, will raise its charge to a potential of one volt. Since the farad is far too large for practical purposes a millionth of a farad, or _microfarad_, whose symbol is _mfd._, is used. What Inductance Is.--Under the sub-caption of _Self-induction_ and _Inductance_ in the beginning of this chapter it was shown that it was the inductance of a coil that makes a current flowing through it produce a strong magnetic field, and here, as one of the constants of an oscillation circuit, it makes a high-frequency current act as though it possessed _inertia_. Inertia is that property of a material body that requires time and energy to set in motion, or stop. Inductance is that property of an oscillation circuit that makes an electric current take time to start and time to stop. Because of the inductance, when a current flows through a circuit it causes the electric energy to be absorbed and changes a large part of it into magnetic lines of force. Where high frequency currents surge in a circuit the inductance of it becomes a powerful factor. The practical unit of inductance is the _henry_ and it is represented by the symbol _L_. What Resistance Is.--The resistance of a circuit to high-frequency currents is different from that for low voltage direct or alternating currents, as the former do not sink into the conductor to nearly so great an extent; in fact, they stick practically to the surface of it, and hence their flow is opposed to a very much greater extent. The resistance of a circuit to high frequency currents is generally found in the spark gap, arc gap, or the space between the electrodes of a vacuum tube. The unit of resistance is, as stated, the _ohm_, and its symbol is _R_. The Effect of Capacitance, Inductance and Resistance on Electric Oscillations.--If an oscillation circuit in which high frequency currents surge has a large resistance, it will so oppose the flow of the currents that they will be damped out and reach zero gradually, as shown at A in Fig. 33. But if the resistance of the circuit is small, and in wireless circuits it is usually so small as to be negligible, the currents will oscillate, until their energy is damped out by radiation and other losses, as shown at B. [Illustration: Fig. 33.--The Effect of Resistance on the Discharge of an Electric Current.] As the capacitance and the inductance of the circuit, which may be made of any value, that is amount, you wish, determines the _time period_, that is, the length of time for a current to make one complete oscillation, it must be clear that by varying the values of the condenser and the inductance coil you can make the high frequency current oscillate as fast or as slow as you wish within certain limits. Where the electric oscillations that are set up are very fast, the waves sent out by the aerial will be short, and, conversely, where the oscillations are slow the waves emitted will be long. CHAPTER VI HOW THE TRANSMITTING AND RECEIVING SETS WORK The easiest way to get a clear conception of how a wireless transmitter sends out electric waves and how a wireless receptor receives them is to take each one separately and follow: (1) in the case of the transmitter, the transformation of the low voltage direct, or alternating current into high potential alternating currents; then find out how these charge the condenser, how this is discharged by the spark gap and sets up high-frequency currents in the oscillation circuits; then (2) in the case of the receptor, to follow the high frequency currents that are set up in the aerial wire and learn how they are transformed into oscillations of lower potential when they have a larger current strength, how these are converted into intermittent direct currents by the detector and which then flow into and operate the telephone receiver. How Transmitting Set No. 1 Works. The Battery and Spark Coil Circuit.--When you press down on the knob of the key the silver points of it make contact and this closes the circuit; the low voltage direct current from the battery now flows through the primary coil of the spark coil and this magnetizes the soft iron core. The instant it becomes magnetic it pulls the spring of the vibrator over to it and this breaks the circuit; when this takes place the current stops flowing through the primary coil; this causes the core to lose its magnetism when the vibrator spring flies back and again makes contact with the adjusting screw; then the cycle of operations is repeated. A condenser is connected across the contact points of the vibrator since this gives a much higher voltage at the ends of the secondary coil than where the coil is used without it; this is because: (1) the self-induction of the primary coil makes the pressure of the current rise and when the contact points close the circuit again it discharges through the primary coil, and (2) when the break takes place the current flows into the condenser instead of arcing across the contact points. Changing the Primary Spark Coil Current Into Secondary Currents.--Now every time the vibrator contact points close the primary circuit the electric current in the primary coil is changed into closed magnetic lines of force and as these cut through the secondary coil they set up in it a _momentary current_ in one direction. Then the instant the vibrator points break apart the primary circuit is opened and the closed magnetic lines of force contract and as they do so they cut the turns of wire in the secondary coil in the opposite direction and this sets up another momentary current in the secondary coil in the other direction. The result is that the low voltage direct current of the battery is changed into alternating currents whose frequency is precisely that of the spring vibrator, but while the frequency of the currents is low their potential, or voltage, is enormously increased. What Ratio of Transformation Means.--To make a spark coil step up the low voltage direct current into high potential alternating current the primary coil is wound with a couple of layers of thick insulated copper wire and the secondary is wound with a thousand, more or less, number of turns with very fine insulated copper wire. If the primary and secondary coils were wound with the same number of turns of wire then the pressure, or voltage, of the secondary coil at its terminals would be the same as that of the current which flowed through the primary coil. Under these conditions the _ratio of transformation_, as it is called, would be unity. The ratio of transformation is directly proportional to the number of turns of wire on the primary and secondary coils and, since this is the case, if you wind 10 turns of wire on the primary coil and 1,000 turns of wire on the secondary coil then you will get 100 times as high a pressure, or voltage, at the terminals of the secondary as that which you caused to flow through the primary coil, but, naturally, the current strength, or amperage, will be proportionately decreased. The Secondary Spark Coil Circuit.--This includes the secondary coil and the spark gap which are connected together. When the alternating, but high potential, currents which are developed by the secondary coil, reach the balls, or _electrodes_, of the spark gap the latter are alternately charged positively and negatively. Now take a given instant when one electrode is charged positively and the other one is charged negatively, then when they are charged to a high enough potential the electric strain breaks down the air gap between them and the two charges rush together as described in the chapter before this one in connection with the discharge of a condenser. When the charges rush together they form a current which burns out the air in the gap and this gives rise to the spark, and as the heated gap between the two electrodes is a very good conductor the electric current surges forth and back with high frequency, perhaps a dozen times, before the air replaces that which has burned out. It is the inrushing air to fill the vacuum of the gap that makes the crackling noise which accompanies the discharge of the electric spark. In this way then electric oscillations of the order of a million, more or less, are produced and if an aerial and a ground wire are connected to the spark balls, or electrodes, the oscillations will surge up and down it and the energy of these in turn, are changed into electric waves which travel out into space. An open circuit transmitter of this kind will send out waves that are four times as long as the aerial itself, but as the waves it sends out are strongly damped the Government will not permit it to be used. The Closed Oscillation Circuit.--By using a closed oscillation circuit the transmitter can be tuned to send out waves of a given length and while the waves are not so strongly damped more current can be sent into the aerial wire system. The closed oscillation circuit consists of: (1) a _spark gap_, (2) a _condenser_ and (3) an _oscillation transformer_. The high potential alternating current delivered by the secondary coil not only charges the spark gap electrodes which necessarily have a very small capacitance, but it charges the condenser which has a large capacitance and the value of which can be changed at will. Now when the condenser is fully charged it discharges through the spark gap and then the electric oscillations set up surge to and fro through the closed circuit. As a closed circuit is a very poor radiator of energy, that is, the electric oscillations are not freely converted into electric waves by it, they surge up to, and through the aerial wire; now as the aerial wire is a good radiator nearly all of the energy of the electric oscillations which surge through it are converted into electric waves. How Transmitting Set No. 2 Works. With Alternating Current. The operation of a transmitting set that uses an alternating current transformer, or _power transformer,_ as it is sometimes called, is even more simple than one using a spark coil. The transformer needs no vibrator when used with alternating current. The current from a generator flows through the primary coil of the transformer and the alternations of the usual lighting current is 60 cycles per second. This current sets up an alternating magnetic field in the core of the transformer and as these magnetic lines of force expand and contract they set up alternating currents of the same frequency but of much higher voltage at the terminals of the secondary coil according to the ratio of the primary and secondary turns of wire as explained under the sub-caption of _Ratio of Transformation_. With Direct Current.--When a 110 volt direct current is used to energize the power transformer an _electrolytic_ interruptor is needed to make and break the primary circuit, just as a vibrator is needed for the same purpose with a spark coil. When the electrodes are connected in series with the primary coil of a transformer and a source of direct current having a potential of 40 to 110 volts, bubbles of gas are formed on the end of the platinum, or alloy anode, which prevent the current from flowing until the bubbles break and then the current flows again, in this way the current is rapidly made and broken and the break is very sharp. Where this type of interrupter is employed the condenser that is usually shunted around the break is not necessary as the interrupter itself has a certain inherent capacitance, due to electrolytic action, and which is called its _electrolytic capacitance_, and this is large enough to balance the self-induction of the circuit since the greater the number of breaks per minute the smaller the capacitance required. The Rotary Spark Gap.--In this type of spark gap the two fixed electrodes are connected with the terminals of the secondary coil of the power transformer and also with the condenser and primary of the oscillation transformer. Now whenever any pair of electrodes on the rotating disk are in a line with the pair of fixed electrodes a spark will take place, hence the pitch of the note depends on the speed of the motor driving the disk. This kind of a rotary spark-gap is called _non-synchronous_ and it is generally used where a 60 cycle alternating current is available but it will work with other higher frequencies. The Quenched Spark Gap.--If you strike a piano string a single quick blow it will continue to vibrate according to its natural period. This is very much the way in which a quenched spark gap sets up oscillations in a coupled closed and open circuit. The oscillations set up in the primary circuit by a quenched spark make only three or four sharp swings and in so doing transfer all of their energy over to the secondary circuit, where it will oscillate some fifty times or more before it is damped out, because the high frequency currents are not forced, but simply oscillate to the natural frequency of the circuit. For this reason the radiated waves approach somewhat the condition of continuous waves, and so sharper tuning is possible. The Oscillation Transformer.--In this set the condenser in the closed circuit is charged and discharged and sets up oscillations that surge through the closed circuit as in _Set No. 1_. In this set, however, an oscillation transformer is used and as the primary coil of it is included in the closed circuit the oscillations set up in it produce strong oscillating magnetic lines of force. The magnetic field thus produced sets up in turn electric oscillations in the secondary coil of the oscillation transformer and these surge through the aerial wire system where their energy is radiated in the form of electric waves. The great advantage of using an oscillation transformer instead of a simple inductance coil is that the capacitance of the closed circuit can be very much larger than that of the aerial wire system. This permits more energy to be stored up by the condenser and this is impressed on the aerial when it is radiated as electric waves. How Receiving Set No. I Works.--When the electric waves from a distant sending station impinge on the wire of a receiving aerial their energy is changed into electric oscillations that are of exactly the same frequency (assuming the receptor is tuned to the transmitter) but whose current strength (amperage) and potential (voltage) are very small. These electric waves surge through the closed circuit but when they reach the crystal detector the contact of the metal point on the crystal permits more current to flow through it in one direction than it will allow to pass in the other direction. For this reason a crystal detector is sometimes called a _rectifier_, which it really is. Thus the high frequency currents which the steel magnet cores of the telephone receiver would choke off are changed by the detector into intermittent direct currents which can flow through the magnet coils of the telephone receiver. Since the telephone receiver chokes off the oscillations, a small condenser can be shunted around it so that a complete closed oscillation circuit is formed and this gives better results. When the intermittent rectified current flows through the coils of the telephone receiver it energizes the magnet as long as it lasts, when it is de-energized; this causes the soft iron disk, or _diaphragm_ as it is called, which sets close to the ends of the poles of the magnet, to vibrate; and this in turn gives forth sounds such as dots and dashes, speech or music, according to the nature of the electric waves that sent them out at the distant station. How Receiving Set No. 2 Works.--When the electric oscillations that are set up by the incoming electric waves on the aerial wire surge through the primary coil of the oscillation transformer they produce a magnetic field and as the lines of force of the latter cut the secondary coil, oscillations of the same frequency are set up in it. The potential (voltage) of these oscillations are, however, _stepped down_ in the secondary coil and, hence, their current strength (amperes) is increased. The oscillations then flow through the closed circuit where they are rectified by the crystal detector and transformed into sound waves by the telephone receiver as described in connection with _Set No. 1_. The variable condenser shunted across the closed circuit permits finer secondary tuning to be done than is possible without it. Where you are receiving continuous waves from a wireless telephone transmitter (speech or music) you have to tune sharper than is possible with the tuning coil alone and to do this a variable condenser connected in parallel with the secondary coil is necessary. CHAPTER VII MECHANICAL AND ELECTRICAL TUNING There is a strikingly close resemblance between _sound waves_ and the way they are set up in _the air_ by a mechanically vibrating body, such as a steel spring or a tuning fork, and _electric waves_ and the way they are set up in _the ether_ by a current oscillating in a circuit. As it is easy to grasp the way that sound waves are produced and behave something will be told about them in this chapter and also an explanation of how electric waves are produced and behave and thus you will be able to get a clear understanding of them and of tuning in general. Damped and Sustained Mechanical Vibrations.--If you will place one end of a flat steel spring in a vice and screw it up tight as shown at A in Fig. 34, and then pull the free end over and let it go it will vibrate to and fro with decreasing amplitude until it comes to rest as shown at B. When you pull the spring over you store up energy in it and when you let it go the stored up energy is changed into energy of motion and the spring moves forth and back, or _vibrates_ as we call it, until all of its stored up energy is spent. [Illustration: Fig. 34.--Damped and Sustained Mechanical Vibrations.] If it were not for the air surrounding it and other frictional losses, the spring would vibrate for a very long time as the stored up energy and the energy of motion would practically offset each other and so the energy would not be used up. But as the spring beats the air the latter is sent out in impulses and the conversion of the vibrations of the spring into waves in the air soon uses up the energy you have imparted to it and it comes to rest. In order to send out _continuous waves_ in the air instead of _damped waves_ as with a flat steel spring you can use an _electric driven tuning fork_, see C, in which an electromagnet is fixed on the inside of the prongs and when this is energized by a battery current the vibrations of the prongs of the fork are kept going, or are _sustained_, as shown in the diagram at D. Damped and Sustained Electric Oscillations.--The vibrating steel spring described above is a very good analogue of the way that damped electric oscillations which surge in a circuit set up and send out periodic electric waves in the ether while the electric driven tuning fork just described is likewise a good analogue of how sustained oscillations surge in a circuit and set up and send out continuous electric waves in the ether as the following shows. Now the inductance and resistance of a circuit such as is shown at A in Fig. 35, slows down, and finally damps out entirely, the electric oscillations of the high frequency currents, see B, where these are set up by the periodic discharge of a condenser, precisely as the vibrations of the spring are damped out by the friction of the air and other resistances that act upon it. As the electric oscillations surge to and fro in the circuit it is opposed by the action of the ether which surrounds it and electric waves are set up in and sent out through it and this transformation soon uses up the energy of the current that flows in the circuit. [Illustration: Fig. 35.--Damped and Sustained Electric Oscillations.] To send out _continuous waves_ in the ether such as are needed for wireless telephony instead of _damped waves_ which are, at the present writing, generally used for wireless telegraphy, an _electric oscillation arc_ or a _vacuum tube oscillator_ must be used, see C, instead of a spark gap. Where a spark gap is used the condenser in the circuit is charged periodically and with considerable lapses of time between each of the charging processes, when, of course, the condenser discharges periodically and with the same time element between them. Where an oscillation arc or a vacuum tube is used the condenser is charged as rapidly as it is discharged and the result is the oscillations are sustained as shown at D. About Mechanical Tuning.--A tuning fork is better than a spring or a straight steel bar for setting up mechanical vibrations. As a matter of fact a tuning fork is simply a steel bar bent in the middle so that the two ends are parallel. A handle is attached to middle point of the fork so that it can be held easily and which also allows it to vibrate freely, when the ends of the prongs alternately approach and recede from one another. When the prongs vibrate the handle vibrates up and down in unison with it, and imparts its motion to the _sounding box_, or _resonance case_ as it is sometimes called, where one is used. If, now, you will mount the fork on a sounding box which is tuned so that it will be in resonance with the vibrations of the fork there will be a direct reinforcement of the vibrations when the note emitted by it will be augmented in strength and quality. This is called _simple resonance_. Further, if you mount a pair of forks, each on a separate sounding box, and have the forks of the same size, tone and pitch, and the boxes synchronized, that is, tuned to the same frequency of vibration, then set the two boxes a foot or so apart, as shown at A in Fig. 36, when you strike one of the forks with a rubber hammer it will vibrate with a definite frequency and, hence, send out sound waves of a given length. When the latter strike the second fork the impact of the molecules of air of which the sound waves are formed will set its prongs to vibrating and it will, in turn, emit sound waves of the same length and this is called _sympathetic resonance_, or as we would say in wireless the forks are _in tune_. [Illustration: Fig. 36.--Sound Wave and Electric Wave Tuned Senders and Receptors. A - variable tuning forks for showing sound wave tuning. B - variable oscillation circuits for showing electric wave tuning.] Tuning forks are made with adjustable weights on their prongs and by fixing these to different parts of them the frequency with which the forks vibrate can be changed since the frequency varies inversely with the square of the length and directly with the thickness [Footnote: This law is for forks having a rectangular cross-section. Those having a round cross-section vary as the radius.] of the prongs. Now by adjusting one of the forks so that it vibrates at a frequency of, say, 16 per second and adjusting the other fork so that it vibrates at a frequency of, say, 18 or 20 per second, then the forks will not be in tune with each other and, hence, if you strike one of them the other will not respond. But if you make the forks vibrate at the same frequency, say 16, 20 or 24 per second, when you strike one of them the other will vibrate in unison with it. About Electric Tuning.--Electric resonance and electric tuning are very like those of acoustic resonance and acoustic tuning which I have just described. Just as acoustic resonance may be simple or sympathetic so electric resonance may be simple or sympathetic. Simple acoustic resonance is the direct reinforcement of a simple vibration and this condition is had when a tuning fork is mounted on a sounding box. In simple electric resonance an oscillating current of a given frequency flowing in a circuit having the proper inductance and capacitance may increase the voltage until it is several times greater than its normal value. Tuning the receptor circuits to the transmitter circuits are examples of sympathetic electric resonance. As a demonstration if you have two Leyden jars (capacitance) connected in circuit with two loops of wire (inductance) whose inductance can be varied as shown at B in Fig. 36, when you make a spark pass between the knobs of one of them by means of a spark coil then a spark will pass in the gap of the other one provided the inductance of the two loops of wire is the same. But if you vary the inductance of the one loop so that it is larger or smaller than that of the other loop no spark will take place in the second circuit. When a tuning fork is made to vibrate it sends out waves in the air, or sound waves, in all directions and just so when high frequency currents surge in an oscillation circuit they send out waves in the ether, or electric waves, that travel in all directions. For this reason electric waves from a transmitting station cannot be sent to one particular station, though they do go further in one direction than in another, according to the way your aerial wire points. Since the electric waves travel out in all directions any receiving set properly tuned to the wave length of the sending station will receive the waves and the only limit on your ability to receive from high-power stations throughout the world depends entirely on the wave length and sensitivity of your receiving set. As for tuning, just as changing the length and the thickness of the prongs of a tuning fork varies the frequency with which it vibrates and, hence, the length of the waves it sends out, so, too, by varying the capacitance of the condenser and the inductance of the tuning coil of the transmitter the frequency of the electric oscillations set up in the circuit may be changed and, consequently, the length of the electric waves they send out. Likewise, by varying the capacitance and the inductance of the receptor the circuits can be tuned to receive incoming electric waves of whatever length within the limitation of the apparatus. CHAPTER VIII A SIMPLE VACUUM TUBE DETECTOR RECEIVING SET While you can receive dots and dashes from spark wireless telegraph stations and hear spoken words and music from wireless telephone stations with a crystal detector receiving set such as described in Chapter III, you can get stations that are much farther away and hear them better with a _vacuum tube detector_ receiving set. Though the vacuum tube detector requires two batteries to operate it and the receiving circuits are somewhat more complicated than where a crystal detector is used still the former does not have to be constantly adjusted as does the latter and this is another very great advantage. Taken all in all the vacuum tube detector is the most sensitive and the most satisfactory of the detectors that are in use at the present time. Not only is the vacuum tube a detector of electric wave signals and speech and music but it can also be used to _amplify_ them, that is, to make them stronger and, hence, louder in the telephone receiver and further its powers of amplification are so great that it will reproduce them by means of a _loud speaker_, just as a horn amplifies the sounds of a phonograph reproducer, until they can be heard by a room or an auditorium full of people. There are two general types of loud speakers, though both use the principle of the telephone receiver. The construction of these loud speakers will be fully described in a later chapter. Assembled Vacuum Tube Receiving Sets.--You can buy a receiving set with a vacuum tube detector from the very simplest type, which is described in this chapter, to those that are provided with _regenerative circuits_ and _amplifying_ tubes or both, which we shall describe in later chapters, from dealers in electrical apparatus generally. While one of these sets costs more than you can assemble a set for yourself, still, especially in the beginning, it is a good plan to buy an assembled one for it is fitted with a _panel_ on which the adjusting knobs of the rheostat, tuning coil and condenser are mounted and this makes it possible to operate it as soon as you get it home and without the slightest trouble on your part. You can, however, buy all the various parts separately and mount them yourself. If you want the receptor simply for receiving then it is a good scheme to have all of the parts mounted in a box or enclosed case, but if you want it for experimental purposes then the parts should be mounted on a base or a panel so that all of the connections are in sight and accessible. A Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set.--For this set you should use: (1) a _loose coupled tuning coil,_ (2) a _variable condenser,_ (3) a _vacuum tube detector,_ (4) an A or _storage battery_ giving 6 volts, (5) a B or _dry cell battery_ giving 22-1/2 volts, (6) a _rheostat_ for varying the storage battery current, and (7) a pair of 2,000-ohm _head telephone receivers_. The loose coupled tuning coil, the variable condenser and the telephone receivers are the same as those described in Chapter III. The Vacuum Tube Detector. With Two Electrodes.--A vacuum tube in its simplest form consists of a glass bulb like an incandescent lamp in which a _wire filament_ and a _metal plate_ are sealed as shown in Fig. 37, The air is then pumped out of the tube and a vacuum left or after it is exhausted it is filled with nitrogen, which cannot burn. [Illustration: Fig. 37.--Two Electrode Vacuum Tube Detectors.] When the vacuum tube is used as a detector, the wire filament is heated red-hot and the metal plate is charged with positive electricity though it remains cold. The wire filament is formed into a loop like that of an incandescent lamp and its outside ends are connected with a 6-volt storage battery, which is called the A battery; then the + or _positive_ terminal of a 22-1/2 volt dry cell battery, called the B battery, is connected to the metal plate while the - or _negative_ terminal of the battery is connected to one of the terminals of the wire filament. The diagram, Fig. 37, simply shows how the two electrode vacuum tube, the A or dry battery, and the B or storage battery are connected up. Three Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector.--The three electrode vacuum tube detector shown at A in Fig. 38, is much more sensitive than the two electrode tube and has, in consequence, all but supplanted it. In this more recent type of vacuum tube the third electrode, or _grid_, as it is called, is placed between the wire filament and the metal plate and this allows the current to be increased or decreased at will to a very considerable extent. [Illustration: Fig. 38.--Three Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector and Battery Connections.] The way the three electrode vacuum tube detector is connected with the batteries is shown at B. The plate, the A or dry cell battery and one terminal of the filament are connected in _series_--that is, one after the other, and the ends of the filament are connected to the B or storage battery. In assembling a receiving set you must, of course, have a socket for the vacuum tube. A vacuum tube detector costs from $5.00 to $6.00. The Dry Cell and Storage Batteries.--The reason that a storage battery is used for heating the filament of the vacuum tube detector is because the current delivered is constant, whereas when a dry cell battery is used the current soon falls off and, hence, the heat of the filament gradually grows less. The smallest A or 6 volt storage battery on the market has a capacity of 20 to 40 ampere hours, weighs 13 pounds and costs about $10.00. It is shown at A in Fig. 39. The B or dry cell battery for the vacuum tube plate circuit that gives 22-1/2 volts can be bought already assembled in sealed boxes. The small size is fitted with a pair of terminals while the larger size is provided with _taps_ so that the voltage required by the plate can be adjusted as the proper operation of the tube requires careful regulation of the plate voltage. A dry cell battery for a plate circuit is shown at B. [Illustration: Fig. 39.--A and B Batteries for Vacuum Tube Detectors.] The Filament Rheostat.--An adjustable resistance, called a _rheostat_, must be used in the filament and storage battery circuit so that the current flowing through the filament can be controlled to a nicety. The rheostat consists of an insulating and a heat resisting form on which is wound a number of turns of resistance wire. A movable contact arm that slides over and presses on the turns of wire is fixed to the knob on top of the rheostat. A rheostat that has a resistance of 6 ohms and a current carrying capacity of 1.5 amperes which can be mounted on a panel board is the right kind to use. It is shown at A and B in Fig. 40 and costs $1.25. [Illustration: Fig. 40.--Rheostat for the A or Storage Battery Current.] Assembling the Parts.--Begin by placing all of the separate parts of the receiving set on a board or a base of other material and set the tuning coil on the left hand side with the adjustable switch end toward the right hand side so that you can reach it easily. Then set the variable condenser in front of it, set the vacuum tube detector at the right hand end of the tuning coil and the rheostat in front of the detector. Place the two sets of batteries back of the instruments and screw a couple of binding posts _a_ and _b_ to the right hand lower edge of the base for connecting in the head phones all of which is shown at A in Fig. 41. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 41.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for a Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 41.--Wiring Diagram of a Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set.] Connecting Up the Parts.--To wire up the different parts begin by connecting the sliding contact of the primary coil of the loose coupled tuning coil (this you will remember is the outside one that is wound with fine wire) to the upper post of the lightning switch and connect one terminal of this coil with the water pipe. Now connect the free end of the secondary coil of the tuning coil (this is the inside coil that is wound with heavy wire) to one of the binding posts of the variable condenser and connect the movable contact arm of the adjustable switch of the primary of the tuning coil with the other post of the variable condenser. Next connect the grid of the vacuum tube to one of the posts of the condenser and then connect the plate of the tube to the _carbon terminal_ of the B or dry cell battery which is the + or _positive pole_ and connect the _zinc terminal_ of the - or _negative_ pole to the binding post _a_, connect the post _b_ to the other side of the variable condenser and then connect the terminals of the head phones to the binding posts _a_ and _b_. Whatever you do be careful not to get the plate connections of the battery reversed. Now connect one of the posts of the rheostat to one terminal of the filament and the other terminal of the filament to the - or _negative_ terminal of the A or storage battery and the + or _positive_ terminal of the A or storage battery to the other post of the rheostat. Finally connect the + or positive terminal of the A or storage battery with the wire that runs from the head phones to the variable condenser, all of which is shown in the wiring diagram at B in Fig. 41. Adjusting the Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set.--A vacuum tube detector is tuned exactly in the same way as the _Crystal Detector Set No. 2_ described in Chapter III, in-so-far as the tuning coil and variable condenser are concerned. The sensitivity of the vacuum tube detector receiving set and, hence, the distance over which signals and other sounds can be heard depends very largely on the sensitivity of the vacuum tube itself and this in turn depends on: (1) the right amount of heat developed by the filament, or _filament brilliancy_ as it is called, (2) the right amount of voltage applied to the plate, and (3) the extent to which the tube is exhausted where this kind of a tube is used. To vary the current flowing from the A or storage battery through the filament so that it will be heated to the right degree you adjust the rheostat while you are listening in to the signals or other sounds. By carefully adjusting the rheostat you can easily find the point at which it makes the tube the most sensitive. A rheostat is also useful in that it keeps the filament from burning out when the current from the battery first flows through it. You can very often increase the sensitiveness of a vacuum tube after you have used it for a while by recharging the A or storage battery. The degree to which a vacuum tube has been exhausted has a very pronounced effect on its sensitivity. The longer the tube is used the lower its vacuum gets and generally the less sensitive it becomes. When this takes place (and you can only guess at it) you can very often make it more sensitive by warming it over the flame of a candle. Vacuum tubes having a gas content (in which case they are, of course, no longer vacuum tubes in the strict sense) make better detectors than tubes from which the air has been exhausted and which are sealed off in this evacuated condition because their sensitiveness is not dependent on the degree of vacuum as in the latter tubes. Moreover, a tube that is completely exhausted costs more than one that is filled with gas. CHAPTER IX VACUUM TUBE AMPLIFIER RECEIVING SETS The reason a vacuum tube detector is more sensitive than a crystal detector is because while the latter merely _rectifies_ the oscillating current that surges in the receiving circuits, the former acts as an _amplifier_ at the same time. The vacuum tube can be used as a separate amplifier in connection with either: (1) a _crystal detector_ or (2) a _vacuum tube detector_, and (_a_) it will amplify either the _radio frequency currents_, that is the high frequency oscillating currents which are set up in the oscillation circuits or (_b_) it will amplify the _audio frequency currents_, that is, the _low frequency alternating_ currents that flow through the head phone circuit. To use the amplified radio frequency oscillating currents or amplified audio frequency alternating currents that are set up by an amplifier tube either a high resistance, called a _grid leak_, or an _amplifying transformer_, with or without an iron core, must be connected with the plate circuit of the first amplifier tube and the grid circuit of the next amplifier tube or detector tube, or with the wire point of a crystal detector. Where two or more amplifier tubes are coupled together in this way the scheme is known as _cascade amplification._ Where either a _radio frequency transformer_, that is one without the iron core, or an _audio frequency transformer_, that is one with the iron core, is used to couple the amplifier tube circuits together better results are obtained than where a high resistance grid leak is used, but the amplifying tubes have to be more carefully shielded from each other or they will react and set up a _howling_ noise in the head phones. On the other hand grid leaks cost less but they are more troublesome to use as you have to find out for yourself the exact resistance value they must have and this you can do only by testing them out. A Grid Leak Amplifier Receiving Set. With Crystal Detector.--The apparatus you need for this set includes: (1) a _loose coupled tuning coil_, (2) a _variable condenser_, (3) _two fixed condensers_, (4) a _crystal detector_, or better a _vacuum tube detector_, (5) an A or _6 volt storage battery_, (6) a _rheostat_, (7) a B or 22-1/2 _volt dry cell battery_, (8) a fixed resistance unit, or _leak grid_ as it is called, and (9) a pair of _head-phones_. The tuning coil, variable condenser, fixed condensers, crystal detectors and head-phones are exactly the same as those described in _Set No. 2_ in Chapter III. The A and B batteries are exactly the same as those described in Chapter VIII. The _vacuum tube amplifier_ and the _grid leak_ are the only new pieces of apparatus you need and not described before. The Vacuum Tube Amplifier.--This consists of a three electrode vacuum tube exactly like the vacuum tube detector described in Chapter VIII and pictured in Fig. 38, except that instead of being filled with a non-combustible gas it is evacuated, that is, the air has been completely pumped out of it. The gas filled tube, however, can be used as an amplifier and either kind of tube can be used for either radio frequency or audio frequency amplification, though with the exhausted tube it is easier to obtain the right plate and filament voltages for good working. The Fixed Resistance Unit, or Grid Leak.--Grid leaks are made in different ways but all of them have an enormously high resistance. One way of making them consists of depositing a thin film of gold on a sheet of mica and placing another sheet of mica on top to protect it the whole being enclosed in a glass tube as shown at A in Fig. 42. These grid leaks are made in units of from 50,000 ohms (.05 megohm) to 5,000,000 ohms (5 megohms) and cost from $1 to $2. [Illustration: Fig. 42.--Grid Leaks and How to Connect Them up.] As the _value_ of the grid leak you will need depends very largely upon the construction of the different parts of your receiving set and on the kind of aerial wire system you use with it you will have to try out various resistances until you hit the right one. The resistance that will give the best results, however, lies somewhere between 500,000 ohms (1/2 a megohm) and 3,000,000 ohms (3 megohms) and the only way for you to find this out is to buy 1/2, 1 and 2 megohm grid leak resistances and connect them up in different ways, as shown at B, until you find the right value. Assembling the Parts for a Crystal Detector Set.--Begin by laying the various parts out on a base or a panel with the loose coupled tuning coil on the left hand side, but with the adjustable switch of the secondary coil on the right hand end or in front according to the way it is made. Then place the variable condenser, the rheostat, the crystal detector and the binding posts for the head phones in front of and in a line with each other. Set the vacuum tube amplifier back of the rheostat and the A and B batteries back of the parts or in any other place that may be convenient. The fixed condensers and the grid leak can be placed anywhere so that it will be easy to connect them in and you are ready to wire up the set. Connecting Up the Parts for a Crystal Detector.--First connect the sliding contact of the primary of the tuning coil to the leading-in wire and one of the end wires of the primary to the water pipe, as shown in Fig. 43. Now connect the adjustable arm that makes contact with one end of the secondary of the tuning coil to one of the posts of the variable condenser; then connect the other post of the latter with a post of the fixed condenser and the other post of this with the grid of the amplifying tube. [Illustration: Fig. 43.--Crystal Detector Receiving Set with Vacuum Tube Amplifier (Resistance Coupled).] Connect the first post of the variable condenser to the + or _positive electrode_ of the A battery and its - or _negative electrode_ with the rotating contact arm of the rheostat. Next connect one end of the resistance coil of the rheostat to one of the posts of the amplifier tube that leads to the filament and the other filament post to the + or _positive electrode_ of the A battery. This done connect the _negative_, that is, the _zinc pole_ of the B battery to the positive electrode of the A battery and connect the _positive_, or _carbon pole_ of the former with one end of the grid leak and connect the other end of this to the plate of the amplifier tube. To the end of the grid leak connected with the plate of the amplifier tube connect the metal point of your crystal detector, the crystal of the latter with one post of the head phones and the other post of them with the other end of the grid leak and, finally, connect a fixed condenser in _parallel_ with--that is across the ends of the grid leak, all of which is shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 43. A Grid Leak Amplifying Receiving Set With Vacuum Tube Detector.--A better amplifying receiving set can be made than the one just described by using a vacuum tube detector instead of the crystal detector. This set is built up exactly like the crystal detector described above and shown in Fig. 43 up to and including the grid leak resistance, but shunted across the latter is a vacuum tube detector, which is made and wired up precisely like the one shown at A in Fig. 41 in the chapter ahead of this one. The way a grid leak and vacuum tube detector with a one-step amplifier are connected up is shown at A in Fig. 44. Where you have a vacuum tube detector and one or more amplifying tubes connected up, or in _cascade_ as it is called, you can use an A, or storage battery of 6 volts for all of them as shown at B in Fig. 44, but for every vacuum tube you use you must have a B or 22-1/2 volt dry battery to charge the plate with. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 44--Vacuum Tube Detector Set with One Step Amplifier (Resistance Coupled).] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 44.--Wiring Diagram for Using One A or Storage Battery with an Amplifier and a Detector Tube.] A Radio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set.--Instead of using a grid leak resistance to couple up the amplifier and detector tube circuits you can use a _radio frequency transformer_, that is, a transformer made like a loose coupled tuning coil, and without an iron core, as shown in the wiring diagram at A in Fig. 45. In this set, which gives better results than where a grid leak is used, the amplifier tube is placed in the first oscillation circuit and the detector tube in the second circuit. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 45.--Wiring Diagram for a Radio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 45.--Radio Frequency Transformer.] Since the radio frequency transformer has no iron core the high frequency, or _radio frequency_ oscillating currents, as they are called, surge through it and are not changed into low frequency, or _audio frequency_ pulsating currents, until they flow through the detector. Since the diagram shows only one amplifier and one radio frequency transformer, it is consequently a _one step amplifier_; however, two, three or more, amplifying tubes can be connected up by means of an equal number of radio frequency transformers when you will get wonderful results. Where a six step amplifier, that is, where six amplifying tubes are connected together, or in _cascade_, the first three are usually coupled up with radio frequency transformers and the last three with audio frequency transformers. A radio frequency transformer is shown at B and costs $6 to $7. An Audio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set.--Where audio frequency transformers are used for stepping up the voltage of the current of the detector and amplifier tubes, the radio frequency current does not get into the plate circuit of the detector at all for the reason that the iron core of the transformer chokes them off, hence, the succeeding amplifiers operate at audio frequencies. An audio frequency transformer is shown at A in Fig. 46 and a wiring diagram showing how the tubes are connected in _cascade_ with the transformers is shown at B; it is therefore a two-step audio frequency receiving set. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 46.--Audio Frequency Transformer.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 46--Wiring Diagram for an Audio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set. (With Vacuum Tube Detector and Two Step Amplifier Tubes.)] A Six Step Amplifier Receiving Set With a Loop Aerial.--By using a receiving set having a three step radio frequency and a three step audio frequency, that is, a set in which there are coupled three amplifying tubes with radio frequency transformers and three amplifying tubes with audio frequency transformers as described under the caption _A Radio Frequency Transformer Receiving Set_, you can use a _loop aerial_ in your room thus getting around the difficulties--if such there be--in erecting an out-door aerial. You can easily make a loop aerial by winding 10 turns of _No. 14_ or _16_ copper wire about 1/16 inch apart on a wooden frame two feet on the side as shown in Fig. 47. With this six step amplifier set and loop aerial you can receive wave lengths of 150 to 600 meters from various high power stations which are at considerable distances away. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 47.--Six Step Amplifier with Loop Aerial.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 47.--Efficient Regenerative Receiving Set. (With Three Coil Loose Coupler Tuner.)] How to Prevent Howling.--Where radio frequency or audio frequency amplifiers are used to couple your amplifier tubes in cascade you must take particular pains to shield them from one another in order to prevent the _feed back_ of the currents through them, which makes the head phones or loud speaker _howl_. To shield them from each other the tubes should be enclosed in metal boxes and placed at least 6 inches apart while the transformers should be set so that their cores are at right angles to each other and these also should be not less than six inches apart. CHAPTER X REGENERATIVE AMPLIFICATION RECEIVING SETS While a vacuum tube detector has an amplifying action of its own, and this accounts for its great sensitiveness, its amplifying action can be further increased to an enormous extent by making the radio frequency currents that are set up in the oscillation circuits react on the detector. Such currents are called _feed-back_ or _regenerative_ currents and when circuits are so arranged as to cause the currents to flow back through the detector tube the amplification keeps on increasing until the capacity of the tube itself is reached. It is like using steam over and over again in a steam turbine until there is no more energy left in it. A system of circuits which will cause this regenerative action to take place is known as the _Armstrong circuits_ and is so called after the young man who discovered it. Since the regenerative action of the radio frequency currents is produced by the detector tube itself and which sets up an amplifying effect without the addition of an amplifying tube, this type of receiving set has found great favor with amateurs, while in combination with amplifying tubes it multiplies their power proportionately and it is in consequence used in one form or another in all the better sets. There are many different kinds of circuits which can be used to produce the regenerative amplification effect while the various kinds of tuning coils will serve for coupling them; for instance a two or three slide single tuning coil will answer the purpose but as it does not give good results it is not advisable to spend either time or money on it. A better scheme is to use a loose coupler formed of two or three honeycomb or other compact coils, while a _variocoupler_ or a _variometer_ or two will produce the maximum regenerative action. The Simplest Type of Regenerative Receiving Set. With Loose Coupled Tuning Coil.--While this regenerative set is the simplest that will give anything like fair results it is here described not on account of its desirability, but because it will serve to give you the fundamental idea of how the _feed-back_ circuit is formed. For this set you need: (1) a _loose-coupled tuning coil_ such as described in Chapter III, (2) a _variable condenser_ of _.001 mfd._ (microfarad) capacitance; (3) one _fixed condenser_ of _.001 mfd._; (4) one _fixed condenser_ for the grid leak circuit of _.00025 mfd._; (5) a _grid leak_ of 1/2 to 2 megohms resistance; (6) a _vacuum tube detector_; (7) an _A 6 volt battery_; (8) a _rheostat_; (9) a _B 22 1/2 volt battery_; and (10) a pair of _2000 ohm head phones_. Connecting Up the Parts.--Begin by connecting the leading-in wire of the aerial with the binding post end of the primary coil of the loose coupler as shown in the wiring diagram Fig. 48 and then connect the sliding contact with the water pipe or other ground. Connect the binding post end of the primary coil with one post of the variable condenser, connect the other post of this with one of the posts of the _.00025 mfd._ condenser and the other end of this with the grid of the detector tube; then around this condenser shunt the grid leak resistance. [Illustration: Fig. 48.--Simple Regenerative Receiving Set. (With Loose Coupler Tuner.)] Next connect the sliding contact of the primary coil with the other post of the variable condenser and from this lead a wire on over to one of the terminals of the filament of the vacuum tube; to the other terminal of the filament connect one of the posts of the rheostat and connect the other post to the - or negative electrode of the A battery and then connect the + or positive electrode of it to the other terminal of the filament. Connect the + or positive electrode of the A battery with one post of the .001 mfd. fixed condenser and connect the other post of this to one of the ends of the secondary coil of the tuning coil and which is now known as the _tickler coil_; then connect the other end of the secondary, or tickler coil to the plate of the vacuum tube. In the wiring diagram the secondary, or tickler coil is shown above and in a line with the primary coil but this is only for the sake of making the connections clear; in reality the secondary, or tickler coil slides to and fro in the primary coil as shown and described in Chapter III. Finally connect the _negative_, or zinc pole of the _B battery_ to one side of the fixed condenser, the _positive_, or carbon, pole to one of the terminals of the head phones and the other terminal of this to the other post of the fixed condenser when your regenerative set is complete. An Efficient Regenerative Receiving Set. With Three Coil Loose Coupler.--To construct a really good regenerative set you must use a loose coupled tuner that has three coils, namely a _primary_, a _secondary_ and a _tickler coil_. A tuner of this kind is made like an ordinary loose coupled tuning coil but it has a _third_ coil as shown at A and B in Fig. 49. The middle coil, which is the _secondary_, is fixed to the base, and the large outside coil, which is the _primary_, is movable, that is it slides to and fro over the middle coil, while the small inside coil, which is the _tickler_, is also movable and can slide in or out of the middle _coil_. None of these coils is variable; all are wound to receive waves up to 360 meters in length when used with a variable condenser of _.001 mfd_. capacitance. In other words you slide the coils in and out to get the right amount of coupling and you tune by adjusting the variable condenser to get the exact wave length you want. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 49.--Diagram of a Three Coil Coupler.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 49.--Three Coil Loose Coupler Tuner.] With Compact Coils.--Compact coil tuners are formed of three fixed inductances wound in flat coils, and these are pivoted in a mounting so that the distance between them and, therefore, the coupling, can be varied, as shown at A in Fig. 50. These coils are wound up by the makers for various wave lengths ranging from a small one that will receive waves of any length up to 360 meters to a large one that has a maximum of 24,000 meters. For an amateur set get three of the smallest coils when you can not only hear amateur stations that send on a 200 meter wave but broadcasting stations that send on a 360 meter wave. [Illustration: Fig. 50.--Honeycomb Inductance Coil.] These three coils are mounted with panel plugs which latter fit into a stand, or mounting, so that the middle coil is fixed, that is, stationary, while the two outside coils can be swung to and fro like a door; this scheme permits small variations of coupling to be had between the coils and this can be done either by handles or by means of knobs on a panel board. While I have suggested the use of the smallest size coils, you can get and use those wound for any wave length you want to receive and when those are connected with variometers and variable condensers, and with a proper aerial, you will have a highly efficient receptor that will work over all ranges of wave lengths. The smallest size coils cost about $1.50 apiece and the mounting costs about $6 or $7 each. The A Battery Potentiometer.--This device is simply a resistance like the rheostat described in connection with the preceding vacuum tube receiving sets but it is wound to 200 or 300 ohms resistance as against 1-1/2 to 6 ohms of the rheostat. It is, however, used as well as the rheostat. With a vacuum tube detector, and especially with one having a gas-content, a potentiometer is very necessary as it is only by means of it that the potential of the plate of the detector can be accurately regulated. The result of proper regulation is that when the critical potential value is reached there is a marked increase in the loudness of the sounds that are emitted by the head phones. As you will see from A in Fig. 51 it has three taps. The two taps which are connected with the ends of the resistance coil are shunted around the A battery and the third tap, which is attached to the movable contact arm, is connected with the B battery tap, see B, at which this battery gives 18 volts. Since the A battery gives 6 volts you can vary the potential of the plate from 18 to 24 volts. The potentiometer must never be shunted around the B battery or the latter will soon run down. A potentiometer costs a couple of dollars. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 51.--The Use of the Potentiometer.] The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--For this regenerative set you will need: (1) a _honeycomb_ or other compact _three-coil tuner_, (2) two _variable_ (_.001_ and _.0005 mfd_.) _condensers_; (3) a _.00025 mfd. fixed condenser_; (4) a _1/2 to 2 megohm grid leak_; (5) a _tube detector_; (6) a _6 volt A battery_; (7) _a rheostat_; (8) a _potentiometer_; (9) an _18_ or _20 volt B battery_; (10) a _fixed condenser_ of _.001 mfd. fixed condenser_; and (11) a _pair of 2000 ohm head phones_. To wire up the parts connect the leading-in wire of the aerial with the primary coil, which is the middle one of the tuner, and connect the other terminal with the ground. Connect the ends of the secondary coil, which is the middle one, with the posts of the variable condenser and connect one of the posts of the latter with one post of the fixed .00025 mfd. condenser and the other post of this with the grid; then shunt the grid leak around it. Next connect the other post of the variable condenser to the - or _negative_ electrode of the _A battery_; the + or _positive_ electrode of this to one terminal of the detector filament and the other end of the latter to the electrode of the A battery. Now connect one end of the tickler coil with the detector plate and the other post to the fixed .001 mfd. condenser, then the other end of this to the positive or carbon pole of the B battery. This done shunt the potentiometer around the A battery and run a wire from the movable contact of it (the potentiometer) over to the 18 volt tap, (see B, Fig. 51), of the B battery. Finally, shunt the head phones and the .001 mfd. fixed condenser and you are ready to try out conclusions. A Regenerative Audio Frequency Amplifier Receiving Set.--The use of amateur regenerative cascade audio frequency receiving sets is getting to be quite common. To get the greatest amplification possible with amplifying tubes you have to keep a negative potential on the grids. You can, however, get very good results without any special charging arrangement by simply connecting one post of the rheostat with the negative terminal of the filament and connecting the _low potential_ end of the secondary of the tuning coil with the - or negative electrode of the A battery. This scheme will give the grids a negative bias of about 1 volt. You do not need to bother about these added factors that make for high efficiency until after you have got your receiving set in working order and understand all about it. The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--Exactly the same parts are needed for this set as the one described above, but in addition you will want: (1) two more _rheostats_; (2) _two_ more sets of B 22-1/2 _volt batteries_; (3) _two amplifier tubes_, and (4) _two audio frequency transformers_ as described in Chapter IX and pictured at A in Fig. 46. To wire up the parts begin by connecting the leading-in wire to one end of the primary of the tuning coil and then connect the other end of the coil with the ground. A variable condenser of .001 mfd. capacitance can be connected in the ground wire, as shown in Fig. 52, to good advantage although it is not absolutely needed. Now connect one end of the secondary coil to one post of a _.001 mfd._ variable condenser and the other end of the secondary to the other post of the condenser. [Illustration: Fig. 52.--Regenerative Audio Frequency Amplifier Receiving Set.] Next bring a lead (wire) from the first post of the variable condenser over to the post of the first fixed condenser and connect the other post of the latter with the grid of the detector tube. Shunt 1/2 to 2 megohm grid leak resistance around the fixed condenser and then connect the second post of the variable condenser to one terminal of the detector tube filament. Run this wire on over and connect it with the first post of the second rheostat, the second post of which is connected with one terminal of the filament of the first amplifying tube; then connect the first post of the rheostat with one end of the secondary coil of the first audio frequency transformer, and the other end of this coil with the grid of the first amplifier tube. Connect the lead that runs from the second post of variable condenser to the first post of the third rheostat, the second post of which is connected with one terminal of the second amplifying tube; then connect the first post of the rheostat with one end of the secondary coil of the second audio frequency transformer and the other end of this coil with the grid of the second amplifier tube. This done connect the - or negative electrode of the A battery with the second post of the variable condenser and connect the + or positive electrode with the free post of the first rheostat, the other post of which connects with the free terminal of the filament of the detector. From this lead tap off a wire and connect it to the free terminal of the filament of the first amplifier tube, and finally connect the end of the lead with the free terminal of the filament of the second amplifier tube. Next shunt a potentiometer around the A battery and connect the third post, which connects with the sliding contact, to the negative or zinc pole of a B battery, then connect the positive or carbon pole of it to the negative or zinc pole of a second B battery and the positive or carbon pole of the latter with one end of the primary coil of the second audio frequency transformer and the other end of it to the plate of the first amplifying tube. Run the lead on over and connect it to one of the terminals of the second fixed condenser and the other terminal of this with the plate of the second amplifying tube. Then shunt the headphones around the condenser. Finally connect one end of the tickler coil of the tuner with the plate of the detector tube and connect the other end of the tickler to one end of the primary coil of the first audio frequency transformer and the other end of it to the wire that connects the two B batteries together. CHAPTER XI SHORT WAVE REGENERATIVE RECEIVING SETS A _short wave receiving set_ is one that will receive a range of wave lengths of from 150 to 600 meters while the distance over which the waves can be received as well as the intensity of the sounds reproduced by the headphones depends on: (1) whether it is a regenerative set and (2) whether it is provided with amplifying tubes. High-grade regenerative sets designed especially for receiving amateur sending stations that must use a short wave length are built on the regenerative principle just like those described in the last chapter and further amplification can be had by the use of amplifier tubes as explained in Chapter IX, but the new feature of these sets is the use of the _variocoupler_ and one or more _variometers_. These tuning devices can be connected up in different ways and are very popular with amateurs at the present time. Differing from the ordinary loose coupler the variometer has no movable contacts while the variometer is provided with taps so that you can connect it up for the wave length you want to receive. All you have to do is to tune the oscillation circuits to each other is to turn the _rotor_, which is the secondary coil, around in the _stator_, as the primary coil is called in order to get a very fine variation of the wave length. It is this construction that makes _sharp tuning_ with these sets possible, by which is meant that all wave lengths are tuned out except the one which the receiving set is tuned for. A Short Wave Regenerative Receiver--With One Variometer and Three Variable Condensers.--This set also includes a variocoupler and a _grid coil_. The way that the parts are connected together makes it a simple and at the same time a very efficient regenerative receiver for short waves. While this set can be used without shielding the parts from each other the best results are had when shields are used. The parts you need for this set include: (1) one _variocoupler_; (2) one _.001 microfarad variable condenser_; (3) one _.0005 microfarad variable condenser_; (4) one _.0007 microfarad variable condenser_; (5) _one 2 megohm grid leak_; (6) one _vacuum tube detector_; (7) one _6 volt A battery_; (8) one _6 ohm_, 1-1/2 _ampere rheostat_; (9) one _200 ohm potentiometer_; (10) one 22-1/2 _volt B battery_; (11) one _.001 microfarad fixed condenser_, (12) one pair of _2,000 ohm headphones_, and (13) a _variometer_. The Variocoupler.--A variocoupler consists of a primary coil wound on the outside of a tube of insulating material and to certain turns of this taps are connected so that you can fix the wave length which your aerial system is to receive from the shortest wave; i.e., 150 meters on up by steps to the longest wave, i.e., 600 meters, which is the range of most amateur variocouplers that are sold in the open market. This is the part of the variocoupler that is called the _stator_. The secondary coil is wound on the section of a ball mounted on a shaft and this is swung in bearings on the stator so that it can turn in it. This part of the variocoupler is called the _rotor_ and is arranged so that it can be mounted on a panel and adjusted by means of a knob or a dial. A diagram of a variocoupler is shown at A in Fig. 53, and the coupler itself at B. There are various makes and modifications of variocouplers on the market but all of them are about the same price which is $6.00 or $8.00. [Illustration: Fig. 53.--How the Variocoupler is Made and Works.] The Variometer.--This device is quite like the variocoupler, but with these differences: (1) the rotor turns in the stator, which is also the section of a ball, and (2) one end of the primary is connected with one end of the secondary coil. To be really efficient a variometer must have a small resistance and a large inductance as well as a small dielectric loss. To secure the first two of these factors the wire should be formed of a number of fine, pure copper wires each of which is insulated and the whole strand then covered with silk. This kind of wire is the best that has yet been devised for the purpose and is sold under the trade name of _litzendraht_. A new type of variometer has what is known as a _basket weave_, or _wavy wound_ stator and rotor. There is no wood, insulating compound or other dielectric materials in large enough quantities to absorb the weak currents that flow between them, hence weaker sounds can be heard when this kind of a variometer is used. With it you can tune sharply to waves under 200 meters in length and up to and including wave lengths of 360 meters. When amateur stations of small power are sending on these short waves this style of variometer keeps the electric oscillations at their greatest strength and, hence, the reproduced sounds will be of maximum intensity. A wiring diagram of a variometer is shown at A in Fig. 54 and a _basketball_ variometer is shown complete at B. [Illustration: Fig. 54.--How the Variometer is Made and Works.] Connecting Up the Parts.--To hook-up the set connect the leading-in wire to one end of the primary coil, or stator, of the variocoupler and solder a wire to one of the taps that gives the longest wave length you want to receive. Connect the other end of this wire with one post of a .001 microfarad variable condenser and connect the other post with the ground as shown in Fig. 55. Now connect one end of the secondary coil, or rotor, to one post of a .0007 mfd. variable condenser, the other post of this to one end of the grid coil and the other end of this with the remaining end of the rotor of the variocoupler. [Illustration: Fig. 55.--Short Wave Regenerative Receiving Set (one Variometer and three Variable Condensers.)] Next connect one post of the .0007 mfd. condenser with one of the terminals of the detector filament; then connect the other post of this condenser with one post of the .0005 mfd. variable condenser and the other post of this with the grid of the detector, then shunt the megohm grid leak around the latter condenser. This done connect the other terminal of the filament to one post of the rheostat, the other post of this to the - or negative electrode of the 6 volt A battery and the + or positive electrode of the latter to the other terminal of the filament. Shunt the potentiometer around the A battery and connect the sliding contact with the - or zinc pole of the B battery and the + or carbon pole with one terminal of the headphone; connect the other terminal to one of the posts of the variometer and the other post of the variometer to the plate of the detector. Finally shunt a .001 mfd. fixed condenser around the headphones. If you want to amplify the current with a vacuum tube amplifier connect in the terminals of the amplifier circuit shown at A in Figs. 44 or 45 at the point where they are connected with the secondary coil of the loose coupled tuning coil, in those diagrams with the binding posts of Fig. 55 where the phones are usually connected in. Short Wave Regenerative Receiver. With Two Variometers and Two Variable Condensers.--This type of regenerative receptor is very popular with amateurs who are using high-grade short-wave sets. When you connect up this receptor you must keep the various parts well separated. Screw the variocoupler to the middle of the base board or panel, and secure the variometers on either side of it so that the distance between them will be 9 or 10 inches. By so placing them the coupling will be the same on both sides and besides you can shield them from each other easier. For the shield use a sheet of copper on the back of the panel and place a sheet of copper between the parts, or better, enclose the variometers and detector and amplifying tubes if you use the latter in sheet copper boxes. When you set up the variometers place them so that their stators are at right angles to each other for otherwise the magnetic lines of force set up by the coils of each one will be mutually inductive and this will make the headphones or loud speaker _howl_. Whatever tendency the receptor has to howl with this arrangement can be overcome by putting in a grid leak of the right resistance and adjusting the condenser. The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--For this set you require: (1) one _variocoupler_; (2) two _variometers_; (3) one _.001 microfarad variable condenser_; (4) one _.0005 microfarad variable condenser_; (5) one _2 megohm grid leak resistance_; (6) one _vacuum tube detector_; (7) one _6 volt A battery_; (8) one _200 ohm potentiometer_; (9) one _22-1/2 volt B battery_; (10) one _.001 microfarad fixed condenser_, and (11) one pair of _2,000 ohm headphones_. To wire up the set begin by connecting the leading-in wire to the fixed end of the primary coil, or _stator_, of the variocoupler, as shown in Fig. 56, and connect one post of the .001 mfd. variable condenser to the stator by soldering a short length of wire to the tap of the latter that gives the longest wave you want to receive. Now connect one end of the secondary coil, or _rotor_, of the variocoupler with one post of the .0005 mfd. variable condenser and the other part to the grid of the detector tube. Connect the other end of the rotor of the variocoupler to one of the posts of the first variometer and the other post of this to one of the terminals of the detector filament. [Illustration: Fig. 56.--Short Wave Regenerative Receiving Set (two Variometers and two Variable Condensers.)] Connect this filament terminal with the - or negative electrode of the A battery and the + or positive electrode of this with one post of the rheostat and lead a wire from the other post to the free terminal of the filament. This done shunt the potential around the A battery and connect the sliding contact to the - or zinc pole of the B battery and the + or carbon pole of this to one terminal of the headphones, while the other terminal of this leads to one of the posts of the second variometer, the other post of which is connected to the plate of the detector tube. If you want to add an amplifier tube then connect it to the posts instead of the headphones as described in the foregoing set. CHAPTER XII INTERMEDIATE AND LONG WAVE REGENERATIVE RECEIVING SETS All receiving sets that receive over a range of wave lengths of from 150 meters to 3,000 meters are called _intermediate wave sets_ and all sets that receive wave lengths over a range of anything more than 3,000 meters are called _long wave sets_. The range of intermediate wave receptors is such that they will receive amateur, broadcasting, ship and shore Navy, commercial, Arlington's time and all other stations using _spark telegraph damped waves_ or _arc_ or _vacuum tube telephone continuous waves_ but not _continuous wave telegraph signals_, unless these have been broken up into groups at the transmitting station. To receive continuous wave telegraph signals requires receiving sets of special kind and these will be described in the next chapter. Intermediate Wave Receiving Sets.--There are two chief schemes employed to increase the range of wave lengths that a set can receive and these are by using: (1) _loading coils_ and _shunt condensers_, and (2) _bank-wound coils_ and _variable condensers_. If you have a short-wave set and plan to receive intermediate waves with it then loading coils and fixed condensers shunted around them affords you the way to do it, but if you prefer to buy a new receptor then the better way is to get one with bank-wound coils and variable condensers; this latter way preserves the electrical balance of the oscillation circuits better, the electrical losses are less and the tuning easier and sharper. Intermediate Wave Set With Loading Coils.--For this intermediate wave set you can use either of the short-wave sets described in the foregoing chapter. For the loading coils use _honeycomb coils_, or other good compact inductance coils, as shown in Chapter X and having a range of whatever wave length you wish to receive. The following table shows the range of wave length of the various sized coils when used with a variable condenser having a .001 microfarad _capacitance_, the approximate _inductance_ of each coil in _millihenries_ and prices at the present writing: TABLE OF CHARACTERISTICS OF HONEYCOMB COILS Approximate Wave Length in Meters in Millihenries Inductance .001 mfd. Variable Mounted Appx. Air Condenser. on Plug .040 130-- 375 $1.40 .075 180-- 515 1.40 .15 240-- 730 1.50 .3 330-- 1030 1.50 .6 450-- 1460 1.55 1.3 660-- 2200 1.60 2.3 930-- 2850 1.65 4.5 1300-- 4000 1.70 6.5 1550-- 4800 1.75 11. 2050-- 6300 1.80 20. 3000-- 8500 2.00 40. 4000--12000 2.15 65. 5000--15000 2.35 100. 6200--19000 2.60 125. 7000--21000 3.00 175. 8200--24000 3.50 These and other kinds of compact coils can be bought at electrical supply houses that sell wireless goods. If your aerial is not very high or long you can use loading coils, but to get anything like efficient results with them you must have an aerial of large capacitance and the only way to get this is to put up a high and long one with two or more parallel wires spaced a goodly distance apart. The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--Get (1) _two honeycomb or other coils_ of the greatest wave length you want to receive, for in order to properly balance the aerial, or primary oscillation circuit, and the closed, or secondary oscillation circuit, you have to tune them to the same wave length; (2) two _.001 mfd. variable condensers_, though fixed condensers will do, and (3) two small _single-throw double-pole knife switches_ mounted on porcelain bases. To use the loading coils all you have to do is to connect one of them in the aerial above the primary coil of the loose coupler, or variocoupler as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 57, then shunt one of the condensers around it and connect one of the switches around this; this switch enables you to cut in or out the loading coil at will. Likewise connect the other loading coil in one side of the closed, or secondary circuit between the variable .0007 mfd. condenser and the secondary coil of the loose coupler or variocoupler as shown in Fig. 53. The other connections are exactly the same as shown in Figs. 44 and 45. [Illustration: Fig. 57.--Wiring Diagram Showing Fixed Loading Coils for Intermediate Wave Set.] An Intermediate Wave Set With Variocoupler Inductance Coils.--By using the coil wound on the rotor of the variocoupler as the tickler the coupling between the detector tube circuits and the aerial wire system increases as the set is tuned for greater wave lengths. This scheme makes the control of the regenerative circuit far more stable than it is where an ordinary loose coupled tuning coil is used. When the variocoupler is adjusted for receiving very long waves the rotor sets at right angles to the stator and, since when it is in this position there is no mutual induction between them, the tickler coil serves as a loading coil for the detector plate oscillation circuit. Inductance coils for short wave lengths are usually wound in single layers but _bank-wound coils_, as they are called are necessary to get compactness where long wave lengths are to be received. By winding inductance coils with two or more layers the highest inductance values can be obtained with the least resistance. A wiring diagram of a multipoint inductance coil is shown in Fig. 58. You can buy this intermediate wave set assembled and ready to use or get the parts and connect them up yourself. [Illustration: Fig. 58.--Wiring Diagram for Intermediate Wave Receptor with one Variocoupler and 12 section Bank-wound Inductance Coil.] The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--For this regenerative intermediate wave set get: (1) one _12 section triple bank-wound inductance coil_, (2) one _variometer_, and (3) all the other parts shown in the diagram Fig. 58 except the variocoupler. First connect the free end of the condenser in the aerial to one of the terminals of the stator of the variocoupler; then connect the other terminal of the stator with one of the ends of the bank-wound inductance coil and connect the movable contact of this with the ground. Next connect a wire to the aerial between the variable condenser and the stator and connect this to one post of a .0005 microfarad fixed condenser, then connect the other post of this with the grid of the detector and shunt a 2 megohm grid leak around it. Connect a wire to the ground wire between the bank-wound inductance coil and the ground proper, i.e., the radiator or water pipe, connect the other end of this to the + electrode of the A battery and connect this end also to one of the terminals of the filament. This done connect the other terminal of the filament to one post of the rheostat and the other post of this to the - or negative side of the A battery. To the + electrode of the A battery connect the - or zinc pole of the B battery and connect the + or carbon pole of the latter with one post of the fixed .001 microfarad condenser. This done connect one terminal of the tickler coil which is on the rotor of the variometer to the plate of the detector and the other terminal of the tickler to the other post of the .001 condenser and around this shunt your headphones. Or if you want to use one or more amplifying tubes connect the circuit of the first one, see Fig. 45, to the posts on either side of the fixed condenser instead of the headphones. A Long Wave Receiving Set.--The vivid imagination of Jules Verne never conceived anything so fascinating as the reception of messages without wires sent out by stations half way round the world; and in these days of high power cableless stations on the five continents you can listen-in to the messages and hear what is being sent out by the Lyons, Paris and other French stations, by Great Britain, Italy, Germany and even far off Russia and Japan. A long wave set for receiving these stations must be able to tune to wave lengths up to 20,000 meters. Differing from the way in which the regenerative action of the short wave sets described in the preceding chapter is secured and which depends on a tickler coil and the coupling action of the detector in this long wave set, [Footnote: All of the short wave and intermediate wave receivers described, are connected up according to the wiring diagram used by the A. H. Grebe Company, Richmond Hill, Long Island, N. Y.] this action is obtained by the use of a tickler coil in the plate circuit which is inductively coupled to the grid circuit and this feeds back the necessary amount of current. This is a very good way to connect up the circuits for the reason that: (1) the wiring is simplified, and (2) it gives a single variable adjustment for the entire range of wave lengths the receptor is intended to cover. The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--The two chief features as far as the parts are concerned of this long wave length receiving set are (1) the _variable condensers_, and (2) the _tuning inductance coils_. The variable condenser used in series with the aerial wire system has 26 plates and is equal to a capacitance of _.0008 mfd._ which is the normal aerial capacitance. The condenser used in the secondary coil circuit has 14 plates and this is equal to a capacitance of _.0004 mfd_. There are a number of inductance coils and these are arranged so that they can be connected in or cut out and combinations are thus formed which give a high efficiency and yet allow them to be compactly mounted. The inductance coils of the aerial wire system and those of the secondary coil circuit are practically alike. For wave lengths up to 2,200 meters _bank litz-wound coils_ are used and these are wound up in 2, 4 and 6 banks in order to give the proper degree of coupling and inductance values. Where wave lengths of more than 2,200 meters are to be received _coto-coils_ are used as these are the "last word" in inductance coil design, and are especially adapted for medium as well as long wave lengths. [Footnote: Can be had of the Coto Coil Co., Providence, R. I.] These various coils are cut in and out by means of two five-point switches which are provided with auxiliary levers and contactors for _dead-ending_ the right amount of the coils. In cutting in coils for increased wave lengths, that is from 10,000 to 20,000 meters, all of the coils of the aerial are connected in series as well as all of the coils of the secondary circuit. The connections for a long wave receptor are shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 59. [Illustration: Fig. 59.--Wiring Diagram Showing Long Wave Receptor with Variocouplers and Bank-wound Inductance Coils] CHAPTER XIII HETERODYNE OR BEAT LONG WAVE TELEGRAPH RECEIVING SET Any of the receiving sets described in the foregoing chapters will respond to either: (1) a wireless telegraph transmitter that uses a spark gap and which sends out periodic electric waves, or to (2) a wireless telephone transmitter that uses an arc or a vacuum tube oscillator and which sends out continuous electric waves. To receive wireless _telegraph_ signals, however, from a transmitter that uses an arc or a vacuum tube oscillator and which sends out continuous waves, either the transmitter or the receptor must be so constructed that the continuous waves will be broken up into groups of audio frequency and this is done in several different ways. There are four different ways employed at the present time to break up the continuous waves of a wireless telegraph transmitter into groups and these are: (_a_) the _heterodyne_, or _beat_, method, in which waves of different lengths are impressed on the received waves and so produces beats; (_b_) the _tikker_, or _chopper_ method, in which the high frequency currents are rapidly broken up; (_c_) the variable condenser method, in which the movable plates are made to rapidly rotate; (_d_) the _tone wheel_, or _frequency transformer_, as it is often called, and which is really a modified form of and an improvement on the tikker. The heterodyne method will be described in this chapter. What the Heterodyne or Beat Method Is.--The word _heterodyne_ was coined from the Greek words _heteros_ which means _other_, or _different_, and _dyne_ which means _power_; in other words it means when used in connection with a wireless receptor that another and different high frequency current is used besides the one that is received from the sending station. In music a _beat_ means a regularly recurrent swelling caused by the reinforcement of a sound and this is set up by the interference of sound waves which have slightly different periods of vibration as, for instance, when two tones take place that are not quite in tune with each other. This, then, is the principle of the heterodyne, or beat, receptor. In the heterodyne, or beat method, separate sustained oscillations, that are just about as strong as those of the incoming waves, are set up in the receiving circuits and their frequency is just a little higher or a little lower than those that are set up by the waves received from the distant transmitter. The result is that these oscillations of different frequencies interfere and reinforce each other when _beats_ are produced, the period of which is slow enough to be heard in the headphones, hence the incoming signals can be heard only when waves from the sending station are being received. A fuller explanation of how this is done will be found in Chapter XV. The Autodyne or Self-Heterodyne Long-Wave Receiving Set.--This is the simplest type of heterodyne receptor and it will receive periodic waves from spark telegraph transmitters or continuous waves from an arc or vacuum tube telegraph transmitter. In this type of receptor the detector tube itself is made to set up the _heterodyne oscillations_ which interfere with those that are produced by the incoming waves that are a little out of tune with it. With a long wave _autodyne_, or _self-heterodyne_ receptor, as this type is called, and a two-step audio-frequency amplifier you can clearly hear many of the cableless stations of Europe and others that send out long waves. For receiving long wave stations, however, you must have a long aerial--a single wire 200 or more feet in length will do--and the higher it is the louder will be the signals. Where it is not possible to put the aerial up a hundred feet or more above the ground, you can use a lower one and still get messages in _International Morse_ fairly strong. The Parts and Connections of an Autodyne, or Self-Heterodyne, Receiving Set.--For this long wave receiving set you will need: (1) one _variocoupler_ with the primary coil wound on the stator and the secondary coil and tickler coil wound on the rotor, or you can use three honeycomb or other good compact coils of the longest wave you want to receive, a table of which is given in Chapter XII; (2) two _.001 mfd. variable condensers_; (3) one _.0005 mfd. variable condenser_; (4) one _.5 to 2 megohm grid leak resistance_; (5) one _vacuum tube detector_; (6) one _A battery_; (7) one _rheostat_; (8) one _B battery_; (9) one _potentiometer_; (10) one _.001 mfd. fixed condenser_ and (11) one pair of _headphones_. For the two-step amplifier you must, of course, have besides the above parts the amplifier tubes, variable condensers, batteries rheostats, potentiometers and fixed condensers as explained in Chapter IX. The connections for the autodyne, or self-heterodyne, receiving set are shown in Fig. 60. [Illustration: Fig. 60.--Wiring Diagram of Long Wave Antodyne, or Self-Heterodyne Receptor.] The Separate Heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set.--This is a better long wave receptor than the self heterodyne set described above for receiving wireless telegraph signals sent out by a continuous long wave transmitter. The great advantage of using a separate vacuum tube to generate the heterodyne oscillations is that you can make the frequency of the oscillations just what you want it to be and hence you can make it a little higher or a little lower than the oscillations set up by the received waves. The Parts and Connections of a Separate Heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set.--The parts required for this long wave receiving set are: (1) four honeycomb or other good _compact inductance_ coils of the longest wave length that you want to receive; (2) three _.001 mfd. variable condensers_; (3) one _.0005 mfd. variable condenser_; (4) one _1 megohm grid leak resistance_; (5) one _vacuum tube detector_; (6) one _A battery_; (7) two rheostats; (8) two _B batteries_, one of which is supplied with taps; (9) one _potentiometer_; (10) one _vacuum tube amplifier_, for setting up the heterodyne oscillations; (11) a pair of _headphones_ and (12) all of the parts for a _two-step amplifier_ as detailed in Chapter IX, that is if you are going to use amplifiers. The connections are shown in Fig. 61. [Illustration: Fig. 61.--Wiring Diagram of Long Wave Separate Heterodyne Receiving Set.] In using either of these heterodyne receivers be sure to carefully adjust the B battery by means of the potentiometer. [Footnote: The amplifier tube in this case is used as a generator of oscillations.] CHAPTER XIV HEADPHONES AND LOUD SPEAKERS Wireless Headphones.--A telephone receiver for a wireless receiving set is made exactly on the same principle as an ordinary Bell telephone receiver. The only difference between them is that the former is made flat and compact so that a pair of them can be fastened together with a band and worn on the head (when it is called a _headset_), while the latter is long and cylindrical so that it can be held to the ear. A further difference between them is that the wireless headphone is made as sensitive as possible so that it will respond to very feeble currents, while the ordinary telephone receiver is far from being sensitive and will respond only to comparatively large currents. How a Bell Telephone Receiver Is Made.--An ordinary telephone receiver consists of three chief parts and these are: (1) a hard-rubber, or composition, shell and cap, (2) a permanent steel bar magnet on one end of which is wound a coil of fine insulated copper wire, and (3) a soft iron disk, or _diaphragm_, all of which are shown in the cross-section in Fig. 62. The bar magnet is securely fixed inside of the handle so that the outside end comes to within about 1/32 of an inch of the diaphragm when this is laid on top of the shell and the cap is screwed on. [Illustration: Fig. 62.--Cross-section of Bell telephone Receiver.] [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. Alexander Graham Bell, Inventor of the Telephone, now an ardent Radio Enthusiast.] The ends of the coil of wire are connected with two binding posts which are in the end of the shell, but are shown in the picture at the sides for the sake of clearness. This coil usually has a resistance of about 75 ohms and the meaning of the _ohmic resistance_ of a receiver and its bearing on the sensitiveness of it will be explained a little farther along. After the disk, or diaphragm, which is generally made of thin, soft sheet iron that has been tinned or japanned, [Footnote: A disk of photographic tin-type plate is generally used.] is placed over the end of the magnet, the cap, which has a small opening in it, is screwed on and the receiver is ready to use. How a Wireless Headphone Is Made.--For wireless work a receiver of the watch-case type is used and nearly always two such receivers are connected with a headband. It consists of a permanent bar magnet bent so that it will fit into the shell of the receiver as shown at A in Fig. 63. [Illustration: Fig. 63.--Wireless Headphone.] The ends of this magnet, which are called _poles_, are bent up, and hence this type is called a _bipolar_ receiver. The magnets are wound with fine insulated wire as before and the diaphragm is held securely in place over them by screwing on the cap. About Resistance, Turns of Wire and Sensitivity of Headphones.--If you are a beginner in wireless you will hear those who are experienced speak of a telephone receiver as having a resistance of 75 ohms, 1,000 ohms, 2,000 or 3,000 ohms, as the case may be; from this you will gather that the higher the resistance of the wire on the magnets the more sensitive the receiver is. In a sense this is true, but it is not the resistance of the magnet coils that makes it sensitive, in fact, it cuts down the current, but it is the _number of turns_ of wire on them that determines its sensitiveness; it is easy to see that this is so, for the larger the number of turns the more often will the same current flow round the cores of the magnet and so magnetize them to a greater extent. But to wind a large number of turns of wire close enough to the cores to be effective the wire must be very small and so, of course, the higher the resistance will be. Now the wire used for winding good receivers is usually No. 40, and this has a diameter of .0031 inch; consequently, when you know the ohmic resistance you get an idea of the number of turns of wire and from this you gather in a general way what the sensitivity of the receiver is. A receiver that is sensitive enough for wireless work should be wound to not less than 1,000 ohms (this means each ear phone), while those of a better grade are wound to as high as 3,000 ohms for each one. A high-grade headset is shown in Fig. 64. Each phone of a headset should be wound to the same resistance, and these are connected in series as shown. Where two or more headsets are used with one wireless receiving set they must all be of the same resistance and connected in series, that is, the coils of one head set are connected with the coils of the next head set and so on to form a continuous circuit. [Illustration: Fig. 64.--Wireless Headphone.] The Impedance of Headphones.--When a current is flowing through a circuit the material of which the wire is made not only opposes its passage--this is called its _ohmic resistance_--but a _counter-electromotive force_ to the current is set up due to the inductive effects of the current on itself and this is called _impedance_. Where a wire is wound in a coil the impedance of the circuit is increased and where an alternating current is used the impedance grows greater as the frequency gets higher. The impedance of the magnet coils of a receiver is so great for high frequency oscillations that the latter cannot pass through them; in other words, they are choked off. How the Headphones Work.--As you will see from the cross-sections in Figs. 62 and 63 there is no connection, electrical or mechanical, between the diaphragm and the other parts of the receiver. Now when either feeble oscillations, which have been rectified by a detector, or small currents from a B battery, flow through the magnet coils the permanent steel magnet is energized to a greater extent than when no current is flowing through it. This added magnetic energy makes the magnet attract the diaphragm more than it would do by its own force. If, on the other hand, the current is cut off the pull of the magnet is lessened and as its attraction for the diaphragm is decreased the latter springs back to its original position. When varying currents flow through the coils the diaphragm vibrates accordingly and sends out sound waves. About Loud Speakers.--The simplest acoustic instrument ever invented is the _megaphone_, which latter is a Greek word meaning _great sound_. It is a very primitive device and our Indians made it out of birch-bark before Columbus discovered America. In its simplest form it consists of a cone-shaped horn and as the speaker talks into the small end the concentrated sound waves pass out of the large end in whatever direction it is held. Now a loud speaker of whatever kind consists of two chief parts and these are: (1) a _telephone receiver_, and (2) a _megaphone_, or _horn_ as it is called. A loud speaker when connected with a wireless receiving set makes it possible for a room, or an auditorium, full of people, or an outdoor crowd, to hear what is being sent out by a distant station instead of being limited to a few persons listening-in with headphones. To use a loud speaker you should have a vacuum tube detector receiving set and this must be provided with a one-step amplifier at least. To get really good results you need a two-step amplifier and then energize the plate of the second vacuum tube amplifier with a 100 volt B battery; or if you have a three-step amplifier then use the high voltage on the plate of the third amplifier tube. Amplifying tubes are made to stand a plate potential of 100 volts and this is the kind you must use. Now it may seem curious, but when the current flows through the coils of the telephone receiver in one direction it gives better results than when it flows through in the other direction; to find out the way the current gives the best results try it out both ways and this you can do by simply reversing the connections. The Simplest Type of Loud Speaker.--This loud speaker, which is called, the Arkay, [Footnote: Made by the Riley-Klotz Mfg. Co., Newark, N. J.] will work on a one- or two-step amplifier. It consists of a brass horn with a curve in it and in the bottom there is an adapter, or frame, with a set screw in it so that you can fit in one of your headphones and this is all there is to it. The construction is rigid enough to prevent overtones, or distortion of speech or music. It is shown in Fig. 65. [Illustration: Fig. 65.--Arkay Loud Speaker.] Another Simple Kind of Loud Speaker.--Another loud speaker, see Fig. 66, is known as the _Amplitone_ [Footnote: Made by the American Pattern, Foundry and Machine Co., 82 Church Street, N. Y. C.] and it likewise makes use of the headphones as the sound producer. This device has a cast metal horn which improves the quality of the sound, and all you have to do is to slip the headphones on the inlet tubes of the horn and it is ready for use. The two headphones not only give a longer volume of sound than where a single one is used but there is a certain blended quality which results from one phone smoothing out the imperfections of the other. [Illustration: Fig. 66.--Amplitone Loud Speaker.] A Third Kind of Simple Loud Speaker.--The operation of the _Amplitron_, [Footnote: Made by the Radio Service Co., 110 W. 40th Street, N. Y.] as this loud speaker is called, is slightly different from others used for the same purpose. The sounds set up by the headphone are conveyed to the apex of an inverted copper cone which is 7 inches long and 10 inches in diameter. Here it is reflected by a parabolic mirror which greatly amplifies the sounds. The amplification takes place without distortion, the sounds remaining as clear and crisp as when projected by the transmitting station. By removing the cap from the receiver the shell is screwed into a receptacle on the end of the loud speaker and the instrument is ready for use. It is pictured in Fig. 67. [Illustration: Fig. 67.--Amplitron Loud Speaker.] A Super Loud Speaker.--This loud speaker, which is known as the _Magnavox Telemegafone_, was the instrument used by Lt. Herbert E. Metcalf, 3,000 feet in the air, and which startled the City of Washington on April 2, 1919, by repeating President Wilson's _Victory Loan Message_ from an airplane in flight so that it was distinctly heard by 20,000 people below. This wonderful achievement was accomplished through the installation of the _Magnavox_ and amplifiers in front of the Treasury Building. Every word Lt. Metcalf spoke into his wireless telephone transmitter was caught and swelled in volume by the _Telemegafones_ below and persons blocks away could hear the message plainly. Two kinds of these loud speakers are made and these are: (1) a small loud speaker for the use of operators so that headphones need not be worn, and (2) a large loud speaker for auditorium and out-door audiences. [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. World's Largest Loud Speaker ever made. Installed in Lytle Park, Cincinnati, Ohio, to permit President Harding's Address at Point Pleasant, Ohio, during the Grant Centenary Celebration to be heard within a radius of one square.] Either kind may be used with a one- or two-step amplifier or with a cascade of half a dozen amplifiers, according to the degree of loudness desired. The _Telemegafone_ itself is not an amplifier in the true sense inasmuch as it contains no elements which will locally increase the incoming current. It does, however, transform the variable electric currents of the wireless receiving set into sound vibrations in a most wonderful manner. A _telemegafone_ of either kind is formed of: (1) a telephone receiver of large proportions, (2) a step-down induction coil, and (3) a 6 volt storage battery that energizes a powerful electromagnet which works the diaphragm. An electromagnet is used instead of a permanent magnet and this is energized by a 6-volt storage battery as shown in the wiring diagram at A in Fig. 68. One end of the core of this magnet is fixed to the iron case of the speaker and together these form the equivalent of a horseshoe magnet. A movable coil of wire is supported from the center of the diaphragm the edge of which is rigidly held between the case and the small end of the horn. This coil is placed over the upper end of the magnet and its terminals are connected to the secondary of the induction coil. Now when the coil is energized by the current from the amplifiers it and the core act like a solenoid in that the coil tends to suck the core into it; but since the core is fixed and the coil is movable the core draws the coil down instead. The result is that with every variation of the current that flows through the coil it moves up and down and pulls and pushes the diaphragm down and up with it. The large amplitude of the vibrations of the latter set up powerful sound waves which can be heard several blocks away from the horn. In this way then are the faint incoming signals, speech and music which are received by the amplifying receiving set reproduced and magnified enormously. The _Telemegafone_ is shown complete at B. [Illustration: Fig. 68.--Magnavox Loud Speaker.] CHAPTER XV OPERATION OF VACUUM TUBE RECEPTORS From the foregoing chapters you have seen that the vacuum tube can be used either as a _detector_ or an _amplifier_ or as a _generator_ of electric oscillations, as in the case of the heterodyne receiving set. To understand how a vacuum tube acts as a detector and as an amplifier you must first know what _electrons_ are. The way in which the vacuum tube sets up sustained oscillations will be explained in Chapter XVIII in connection with the _Operation of Vacuum Tube Transmitters_. What Electrons Are.--Science teaches us that masses of matter are made up of _molecules_, that each of these is made up of _atoms_, and each of these, in turn, is made up of a central core of positive particles of electricity surrounded by negative particles of electricity as shown in the schematic diagram, Fig. 69. The little black circles inside the large circle represent _positive particles of electricity_ and the little white circles outside of the large circle represent _negative particles of electricity_, or _electrons_ as they are called. [Illustration: Fig. 69.--Schematic Diagram of an Atom.] It is the number of positive particles of electricity an atom has that determines the kind of an element that is formed when enough atoms of the same kind are joined together to build it up. Thus hydrogen, which is the lightest known element, has one positive particle for its nucleus, while uranium, the heaviest element now known, has 92 positive particles. Now before leaving the atom please note that it is as much smaller than the diagram as the latter is smaller than our solar system. What Is Meant by Ionization.--A hydrogen atom is not only lighter but it is smaller than the atom of any other element while an electron is more than a thousand times smaller than the atom of which it is a part. Now as long as all of the electrons remain attached to the surface of an atom its positive and negative charges are equalized and it will, therefore, be neither positive nor negative, that is, it will be perfectly neutral. When, however, one or more of its electrons are separated from it, and there are several ways by which this can be done, the atom will show a positive charge and it is then called a _positive ion_. In other words a _positive ion_ is an atom that has lost some of its negative electrons while a _negative ion_ is one that has acquired some additional negative _electrons_. When a number of electrons are being constantly given by the atoms of an element, which let us suppose is a metal, and are being attracted to atoms of another element, which we will say is also a metal, a flow of electrons takes place between the two oppositely charged elements and form a current of negative electricity as represented by the arrows at A in Fig. 70. [Illustration: Fig. 70.--Action of Two-electrode Vacuum Tube.] When a stream of electrons is flowing between two metal elements, as a filament and a plate in a vacuum tube detector, or an amplifier, they act as _carriers_ for more negative electrons and these are supplied by a battery as we shall presently explain. It has always been customary for us to think of a current of electricity as flowing from the positive pole of a battery to the negative pole of it and hence we have called this the _direction of the current_. Since the electronic theory has been evolved it has been shown that the electrons, or negative charges of electricity, flow from the negative to the positive pole and that the ionized atoms, which are more positive than negative, flow in the opposite direction as shown at B. How Electrons are Separated from Atoms.--The next question that arises is how to make a metal throw off some of the electrons of the atoms of which it is formed. There are several ways that this can be done but in any event each atom must be given a good, hard blow. A simple way to do this is to heat a metal to incandescence when the atoms will bombard each other with terrific force and many of the electrons will be knocked off and thrown out into the surrounding space. But all, or nearly all, of them will return to the atoms from whence they came unless a means of some kind is employed to attract them to the atoms of some other element. This can be done by giving the latter piece of metal a positive charge. If now these two pieces of metal are placed in a bulb from which the air has been exhausted and the first piece of metal is heated to brilliancy while the second piece of metal is kept positively electrified then a stream of electrons will flow between them. Action of the Two Electrode Vacuum Tube.--Now in a vacuum tube detector a wire filament, like that of an incandescent lamp, is connected with a battery and this forms the hot element from which the electrons are thrown off, and a metal plate with a terminal wire secured to it is connected to the positive or carbon tap of a dry battery; now connect the negative or zinc tap of this with one end of a telephone receiver and the other end of this with the terminals of the filament as shown at A in Fig. 71. If now you heat the filament and hold the phone to your ear you can hear the current from the B battery flowing through the circuit. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 71.--How a Two Electrode Tube Acts as a Relay or a Detector.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 71.--Only the Positive Part of Oscillations Goes through the Tube.] Since the electrons are negative charges of electricity they are not only thrown off by the hot wire but they are attracted by the positive charged metal plate and when enough electrons pass, or flow, from the hot wire to the plate they form a conducting path and so complete the circuit which includes the filament, the plate and the B or plate battery, when the current can then flow through it. As the number of electrons that are thrown off by the filament is not great and the voltage of the plate is not high the current that flows between the filament and the plate is always quite small. How the Two Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector.--As the action of a two electrode tube as a detector [Footnote: The three electrode vacuum tube has entirely taken the place of the two electrode type.] is simpler than that of the three electrode vacuum tube we shall describe it first. The two electrode vacuum tube was first made by Mr. Edison when he was working on the incandescent lamp but that it would serve as a detector of electric waves was discovered by Prof. Fleming, of Oxford University, London. As a matter of fact, it is not really a detector of electric waves, but it acts as: (1) a _rectifier_ of the oscillations that are set up in the receiving circuits, that is, it changes them into pulsating direct currents so that they will flow through and affect a telephone receiver, and (2) it acts as a _relay_ and the feeble received oscillating current controls the larger direct current from the B battery in very much the same way that a telegraph relay does. This latter relay action will be explained when we come to its operation as an amplifier. We have just learned that when the stream of electrons flow from the hot wire to the cold positive plate in the tube they form a conducting path through which the battery current can flow. Now when the electric oscillations surge through the closed oscillation circuit, which includes the secondary of the tuning coil, the variable condenser, the filament and the plate as shown at B in Fig. 71 the positive part of them passes through the tube easily while the negative part cannot get through, that is, the top, or positive, part of the wave-form remains intact while the lower, or negative, part is cut off as shown in the diagram at C. As the received oscillations are either broken up into wave trains of audio frequency by the telegraph transmitter or are modulated by a telephone transmitter they carry the larger impulses of the direct current from the B battery along with them and these flow through the headphones. This is the reason the vacuum tube amplifies as well as detects. How the Three Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector.--The vacuum tube as a detector has been made very much more sensitive by the use of a third electrode shown in Fig. 72. In this type of vacuum tube the third electrode, or _grid_, is placed between the filament and the plate and this controls the number of electrons flowing from the filament to the plate; in passing between these two electrodes they have to go through the holes formed by the grid wires. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 72.--How the Positive and Negative Voltages of Oscillations Act on the Electrons.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 72.--How the Three Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector and Amplifier.] [Illustration: (D) Fig. 72.--How the Oscillations Control the Flow of the Battery Current through the Tube.] If now the grid is charged to a higher _negative_ voltage than the filament the electrons will be stopped by the latter, see A, though some of them will go through to the plate because they travel at a high rate of speed. The higher the negative charge on the grid the smaller will be the number of electrons that will reach the plate and, of course, the smaller will be the amount of current that will flow through the tube and the headphones from the B battery. On the other hand if the grid is charged _positively_, see B, then more electrons will strike the plate than when the grid is not used or when it is negatively charged. But when the three electrode tube is used as a detector the oscillations set up in the circuits change the grid alternately from negative to positive as shown at C and hence the voltage of the B battery current that is allowed to flow through the detector from the plate to the filament rises and falls in unison with the voltage of the oscillating currents. The way the positive and negative voltages of the oscillations which are set up by the incoming waves, energize the grid; how the oscillator tube clips off the negative parts of them, and, finally, how these carry the battery current through the tube are shown graphically by the curves at D. How the Vacuum Tube Acts as an Amplifier.--If you connect up the filament and the plate of a three electrode tube with the batteries and do not connect in the grid, you will find that the electrons which are thrown off by the filament will not get farther than the grid regardless of how high the voltage is that you apply to the plate. This is due to the fact that a large number of electrons which are thrown off by the filament strike the grid and give it a negative charge, and consequently, they cannot get any farther. Since the electrons do not reach the plate the current from the B battery cannot flow between it and the filament. Now with a properly designed amplifier tube a very small negative voltage on the grid will keep a very large positive voltage on the plate from sending a current through the tube, and oppositely, a very small positive voltage on the grid will let a very large plate current flow through the tube; this being true it follows that any small variation of the voltage from positive to negative on the grid and the other way about will vary a large current flowing from the plate to the filament. In the Morse telegraph the relay permits the small current that is received from the distant sending station to energize a pair of magnets, and these draw an armature toward them and close a second circuit when a large current from a local battery is available for working the sounder. The amplifier tube is a variable relay in that the feeble currents set up by the incoming waves constantly and proportionately vary a large current that flows through the headphones. This then is the principle on which the amplifying tube works. The Operation of a Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set.--The way a simple vacuum tube detector receiving set works is like this: when the filament is heated to brilliancy it gives off electrons as previously described. Now when the electric waves impinge on the aerial wire they set up oscillations in it and these surge through the primary coil of the loose coupled tuning coil, a diagram of which is shown at B in Fig. 41. The energy of these oscillations sets up oscillations of the same frequency in the secondary coil and these high frequency currents whose voltage is first positive and then negative, surge in the closed circuit which includes the secondary coil and the variable condenser. At the same time the alternating positive and negative voltage of the oscillating currents is impressed on the grid; at each change from + to - and back again it allows the electrons to strike the plate and then shuts them off; as the electrons form the conducting path between the filament and the plate the larger direct current from the B battery is permitted to flow through the detector tube and the headphones. Operation of a Regenerative Vacuum Tube Receiving Set.--By feeding back the pulsating direct current from the B battery through the tickler coil it sets up other and stronger oscillations in the secondary of the tuning coil when these act on the detector tube and increase its sensitiveness to a remarkable extent. The regenerative, or _feed back_, action of the receiving circuits used will be easily understood by referring back to B in Fig. 47. When the waves set up oscillations in the primary of the tuning coil the energy of them produces like oscillations in the closed circuit which includes the secondary coil and the condenser; the alternating positive and negative voltages of these are impressed on the grid and these, as we have seen before, cause similar variations of the direct current from the B battery which acts on the plate and which flows between the latter and the filament. This varying direct current, however, is made to flow back through the third, or tickler coil of the tuning coil and sets up in the secondary coil and circuits other and larger oscillating currents and these augment the action of the oscillations produced by the incoming waves. These extra and larger currents which are the result of the feedback then act on the grid and cause still larger variations of the current in the plate voltage and hence of the current of the B battery that flows through the detector and the headphones. At the same time the tube keeps on responding to the feeble electric oscillations set up in the circuits by the incoming waves. This regenerative action of the battery current augments the original oscillations many times and hence produce sounds in the headphones that are many times greater than where the vacuum tube detector alone is used. Operation of Autodyne and Heterodyne Receiving Sets.--On page 109 [Chapter VII] we discussed and at A in Fig. 36 is shown a picture of two tuning forks mounted on sounding boxes to illustrate the principle of electrical tuning. When a pair of these forks are made to vibrate exactly the same number of times per second there will be a condensation of the air between them and the sound waves that are sent out will be augmented. But if you adjust one of the forks so that it will vibrate 256 times a second and the other fork so that it will vibrate 260 times a second then there will be a phase difference between the two sets of waves and the latter will augment each other 4 times every second and you will hear these rising and falling sounds as _beats_. Now electric oscillations set up in two circuits that are coupled together act in exactly the same way as sound waves produced by two tuning forks that are close to each other. Since this is true if you tune one of the closed circuits so that the oscillations in it will have a frequency of a 1,000,000 and tune the other circuit so that the oscillations in it have a frequency of 1,001,000 a second then the oscillations will augment each other 1,000 times every second. As these rising and falling currents act on the pulsating currents from the B battery which flow through the detector tube and the headphones you will hear them as beats. A graphic representation of the oscillating currents set up by the incoming waves, those produced by the heterodyne oscillator and the beats they form is shown in Fig. 73. To produce these beats a receptor can use: (1) a single vacuum tube for setting up oscillations of both frequencies when it is called an _autodyne_, or _self-heterodyne_ receptor, or (2) a separate vacuum tube for setting up the oscillations for the second circuit when it is called a _heterodyne_ receptor. [Illustration: Fig. 73.--How the Heterodyne Receptor Works.] The Autodyne, or Self-Heterodyne Receiving Set.--Where only one vacuum tube is used for producing both frequencies you need only a regenerative, or feed-back receptor; then you can tune the aerial wire system to the incoming waves and tune the closed circuit of the secondary coil so that it will be out of step with the former by 1,000 oscillations per second, more or less, the exact number does not matter in the least. From this you will see that any regenerative set can be used for autodyne, or self-heterodyne, reception. The Separate Heterodyne Receiving Set.--The better way, however, is to use a separate vacuum tube for setting up the heterodyne oscillations. The latter then act on the oscillations that are produced by the incoming waves and which energize the grid of the detector tube. Note that the vacuum tube used for producing the heterodyne oscillations is a _generator_ of electric oscillations; the latter are impressed on the detector circuits through the variable coupling, the secondary of which is in series with the aerial wire as shown in Fig. 74. The way in which the tube acts as a generator of oscillations will be told in Chapter XVIII. [Illustration: Fig. 74.--Separate Heterodyne Oscillator.] CHAPTER XVI CONTINUOUS WAVE TELEGRAPH TRANSMITTING SETS WITH DIRECT CURRENT In the first part of this book we learned about spark-gap telegraph sets and how the oscillations they set up are _damped_ and the waves they send out are _periodic_. In this and the next chapter we shall find out how vacuum tube telegraph transmitters are made and how they set up oscillations that are _sustained_ and radiate waves that are _continuous_. Sending wireless telegraph messages by continuous waves has many features to recommend it as against sending them by periodic waves and among the most important of these are that the transmitter can be: (1) more sharply tuned, (2) it will send signals farther with the same amount of power, and (3) it is noiseless in operation. The disadvantageous features are that: (1) a battery current is not satisfactory, (2) its circuits are somewhat more complicated, and (3) the oscillator tubes burn out occasionally. There is, however, a growing tendency among amateurs to use continuous wave transmitters and they are certainly more up-to-date and interesting than spark gap sets. Now there are two practical ways by which continuous waves can be set up for sending either telegraphic signals or telephonic speech and music and these are with: (a) an _oscillation arc lamp_, and (b) a _vacuum tube oscillator_. The oscillation arc was the earliest known way of setting up sustained oscillations, and it is now largely used for commercial high power, long distance work. But since the vacuum tube has been developed to a high degree of efficiency and is the scheme that is now in vogue for amateur stations we shall confine our efforts here to explaining the apparatus necessary and how to wire the various parts together to produce several sizes of vacuum tube telegraph transmitters. Sources of Current for Telegraph Transmitting Sets.--Differing from a spark-gap transmitter you cannot get any appreciable results with a low voltage battery current to start with. For a purely experimental vacuum tube telegraph transmitter you can use enough B batteries to operate it but the current strength of these drops so fact when they are in use, that they are not at all satisfactory for the work. You can, however, use 110 volt direct current from a lighting circuit as your initial source of power to energize the plate of the vacuum tube oscillator of your experimental transmitter. Where you have a 110 volt _direct current_ lighting service in your home and you want a higher voltage for your plate, you will then have to use a motor-generator set and this costs money. If you have 110 volt _alternating current_ lighting service at hand your troubles are over so far as cost is concerned for you can step it up to any voltage you want with a power transformer. In this chapter will be shown how to use a direct current for your source of initial power and in the next chapter how to use an alternating current for the initial power. An Experimental Continuous Wave Telegraph Transmitter.--You will remember that in Chapter XV we learned how the heterodyne receiver works and that in the separate heterodyne receiving set the second vacuum tube is used solely to set up oscillations. Now while this extra tube is used as a generator of oscillations these are, of course, very weak and hence a detector tube cannot be used to generate oscillations that are useful for other purposes than heterodyne receptors and measurements. There is a vacuum tube amplifier [Footnote: This is the _radiation_ UV-201, made by the Radio Corporation of America, Woolworth Bldg., New York City.] made that will stand a plate potential of 100 volts, and this can be used as a generator of oscillations by energizing it with a 110 volt direct current from your lighting service. Or in a pinch you can use five standard B batteries to develop the plate voltage, but these will soon run down. But whatever you do, never use a current from a lighting circuit on a tube of any kind that has a rated plate potential of less than 100 volts. The Apparatus You Need.--For this experimental continuous wave telegraph transmitter get the following pieces of apparatus: (1) one _single coil tuner with three clips_; (2) one _.002 mfd. fixed condenser_; (3) three _.001 mfd. condensers_; (4) one _adjustable grid leak_; (5) one _hot-wire ammeter_; (6) one _buzzer_; (7) one _dry cell_; (8) one _telegraph key_; (9) one _100 volt plate vacuum tube amplifier_; (10) one _6 volt storage battery_; (11) one _rheostat_; (12) one _oscillation choke coil_; (13) one _panel cut-out_ with a _single-throw, double-pole switch_, and a pair of _fuse sockets_ on it. The Tuning Coil.--You can either make this tuning coil or buy one. To make it get two disks of wood 3/4-inch thick and 5 inches in diameter and four strips of hard wood, or better, hard rubber or composition strips, such as _bakelite_, 1/2-inch thick, 1 inch wide and 5-3/4 inches long, and screw them to the disks as shown at A in Fig. 75. Now wrap on this form about 25 turns of No. 8 or 10, Brown and Sharpe gauge, bare copper wire with a space of 1/8-inch between each turn. Get three of the smallest size terminal clips, see B, and clip them on to the different turns, when your tuning coil is ready for use. You can buy a coil of this kind for $4.00 or $5.00. The Condensers.--For the aerial series condenser get one that has a capacitance of .002 mfd. and that will stand a potential of 3,000 volts. [Footnote: The U C-1014 _Faradon_ condenser made by the Radio Corporation of America will serve the purpose.] It is shown at C. The other three condensers, see D, are also of the fixed type and may have a capacitance of .001 mfd.; [Footnote: List No. 266; fixed receiving condenser, sold by the Manhattan Electrical Supply Co.] the blocking condenser should preferably have a capacitance of 1/2 a mfd. In these condensers the leaves of the sheet metal are embedded in composition. The aerial condenser will cost you $2.00 and the others 75 cents each. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 75.--Apparatus for Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.] [Illustration: Fig. 75.--Apparatus for Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.] The Aerial Ammeter.--This instrument is also called a _hot-wire_ ammeter because the oscillating currents flowing through a piece of wire heat it according to their current strength and as the wire contracts and expands it moves a needle over a scale. The ammeter is connected in the aerial wire system, either in the aerial side or the ground side--the latter place is usually the most convenient. When you tune the transmitter so that the ammeter shows the largest amount of current surging in the aerial wire system you can consider that the oscillation circuits are in tune. A hot-wire ammeter reading to 2.5 amperes will serve your needs, it costs $6.00 and is shown at E in Fig. 75. [Illustration: United States Naval High Power Station, Arlington Va. General view of Power Room. At the left can be seen the Control Switchboards, and overhead, the great 30 K.W. Arc Transmitter with Accessories.] The Buzzer and Dry Cell.--While a heterodyne, or beat, receptor can receive continuous wave telegraph signals an ordinary crystal or vacuum tube detector receiving set cannot receive them unless they are broken up into trains either at the sending station or at the receiving station, and it is considered the better practice to do this at the former rather than at the latter station. For this small transmitter you can use an ordinary buzzer as shown at F. A dry cell or two must be used to energize the buzzer. You can get one for about 75 cents. The Telegraph Key.--Any kind of a telegraph key will serve to break up the trains of sustained oscillations into dots and dashes. The key shown at G is mounted on a composition base and is the cheapest key made, costing $1.50. The Vacuum Tube Oscillator.--As explained before you can use any amplifying tube that is made for a plate potential of 100 volts. The current required for heating the filament is about 1 ampere at 6 volts. A porcelain socket should be used for this tube as it is the best insulating material for the purpose. An amplifier tube of this type is shown at H and costs $6.50. The Storage Battery.--A storage battery is used to heat the filament of the tube, just as it is with a detector tube, and it can be of any make or capacity as long as it will develop 6 volts. The cheapest 6 volt storage battery on the market has a 20 to 40 ampere-hour capacity and sells for $13.00. The Battery Rheostat.--As with the receptors a rheostat is needed to regulate the current that heats the filament. A rheostat of this kind is shown at I and is listed at $1.25. The Oscillation Choke Coil.--This coil is connected in between the oscillation circuits and the source of current which feeds the oscillator tube to keep the oscillations set up by the latter from surging back into the service wires where they would break down the insulation. You can make an oscillation choke coil by winding say 100 turns of No. 28 Brown and Sharpe gauge double cotton covered magnet wire on a cardboard cylinder 2 inches in diameter and 2-1/2 inches long. Transmitter Connectors.--For connecting up the different pieces of apparatus of the transmitter it is a good scheme to use _copper braid_; this is made of braided copper wire in three sizes and sells for 7,15 and 20 cents a foot respectively. A piece of it is pictured at J. The Panel Cut-Out.--This is used to connect the cord of the 110-volt lamp socket with the transmitter. It consists of a pair of _plug cutouts and a single-throw, double-pole_ switch mounted on a porcelain base as shown at K. In some localities it is necessary to place these in an iron box to conform to the requirements of the fire underwriters. Connecting Up the Transmitting Apparatus.--The way the various pieces of apparatus are connected together is shown in the wiring diagram. Fig. 76. Begin by connecting one post of the ammeter with the wire that leads to the aerial and the other post of it to one end of the tuning coil; connect clip _1_ to one terminal of the .002 mfd. 3,000 volt aerial condenser and the other post of this with the ground. [Illustration: Fig. 76--Experimental C.W. Telegraph Transmitter] Now connect the end of the tuning coil that leads to the ammeter with one end of the .001 mfd. grid condenser and the other end of this with the grid of the vacuum tube. Connect the telegraph key, the buzzer and the dry cell in series and then shunt them around the grid condenser. Next connect the plate of the tube with one end of the .001 mfd. blocking condenser and the other end of this with the clip _2_ on the tuning coil. Connect one end of the filament with the + or positive electrode of the storage battery, the - or negative electrode of this with one post of the rheostat and the other post of the latter with the other end of the filament; then connect clip _3_ with the + or positive side of the storage battery. This done connect one end of the choke coil to the conductor that leads to the plate and connect the other end of the choke coil to one of the taps of the switch on the panel cut-out. Connect the + or positive electrode of the storage battery to the other switch tap and between the switch and the choke coil connect the protective condenser across the 110 volt feed wires. Finally connect the lamp cord from the socket to the plug fuse taps when your experimental continuous wave telegraph transmitter is ready to use. A 100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.--Here is a continuous wave telegraph transmitter that will cover distances up to 100 miles that you can rely on. It is built on exactly the same lines as the experimental transmitter just described, but instead of using a 100 volt plate amplifier as a makeshift generator of oscillations it employs a vacuum tube made especially for setting up oscillations and instead of having a low plate voltage it is energized with 350 volts. The Apparatus You Need.--For this transmitter you require: (1) one _oscillation transformer_; (2) one _hot-wire ammeter_; (3) one _aerial series condenser_; (4) one _grid leak resistance_; (5) one _chopper_; (6) one _key circuit choke coil_; (7) one _5 watt vacuum tube oscillator_; (8) one _6 volt storage battery_; (9) one _battery rheostat_; (10) one _battery voltmeter_; (11) one _blocking condenser_; (12) one _power circuit choke coil_, and (13) one _motor-generator_. The Oscillation Transformer.--The tuning coil, or _oscillation transformer_ as this one is called, is a conductively coupled tuner--that is, the primary and secondary coils form one continuous coil instead of two separate coils. This tuner is made up of 25 turns of thin copper strip, 3/8 inch wide and with its edges rounded, and this is secured to a wood base as shown at A in Fig. 77. It is fitted with one fixed tap and three clips to each of which a length of copper braid is attached. It has a diameter of 6-1/4 inches, a height of 7-7/8 inches and a length of 9-3/8 inches, and it costs $11.00. [Illustration: Fig. 77.--Apparatus of 100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.] The Aerial Condenser.--This condenser is made up of three fixed condensers of different capacitances, namely .0003, .0004 and .0005 mfd., and these are made to stand a potential of 7500 volts. The condenser is therefore adjustable and, as you will see from the picture B, it has one terminal wire at one end and three terminal wires at the other end so that one, two or three condensers can be used in series with the aerial. A condenser of this kind costs $5.40. The Aerial Ammeter.--This is the same kind of a hot-wire ammeter already described in connection with the experimental set, but it reads to 5 amperes. The Grid and Blocking Condensers.--Each of these is a fixed condenser of .002 mfd. capacitance and is rated to stand 3,000 volts. It is made like the aerial condenser but has only two terminals. It costs $2.00. The Key Circuit Apparatus.--This consists of: (1) the _grid leak_; (2) the _chopper_; (3) the _choke coil_, and (4) the _key_. The grid leak is connected in the lead from the grid to the aerial to keep the voltage on the grid at the right potential. It has a resistance of 5000 ohms with a mid-tap at 2500 ohms as shown at C. It costs $2.00. The chopper is simply a rotary interrupter driven by a small motor. It comprises a wheel of insulating material in which 30 or more metal segments are set in an insulating disk as shown at D. A metal contact called a brush is fixed on either side of the wheel. It costs about $7.00 and the motor to drive it is extra. The choke coil is wound up of about 250 turns of No. 30 Brown and Sharpe gauge cotton covered magnet wire on a spool which has a diameter of 2 inches and a length of 3-1/4 inches. The 5 Watt Oscillator Vacuum Tube.--This tube is made like the amplifier tube described for use with the preceding experimental transmitter, but it is larger, has a more perfect vacuum, and will stand a plate potential of 350 volts while the plate current is .045 ampere. The filament takes a current of a little more than 2 amperes at 7.5 volts. A standard 4-tap base is used with it. The tube costs $8.00 and the porcelain base is $1.00 extra. It is shown at E. The Storage Battery and Rheostat.--This must be a 5-cell battery so that it will develop 10 volts. A storage battery of any capacity can be used but the lowest priced one costs about $22.00. The rheostat for regulating the battery current is the same as that used in the preceding experimental transmitter. The Filament Voltmeter.--To get the best results it is necessary that the voltage of the current which heats the filament be kept at the same value all of the time. For this transmitter a direct current voltmeter reading from 0 to 15 volts is used. It is shown at F and costs $7.50. The Oscillation Choke Coil.--This is made exactly like the one described in connection with the experimental transmitter. The Motor-Generator Set.--Where you have only a 110 or a 220 volt direct current available as a source of power you need a _motor-generator_ to change it to 350 volts, and this is an expensive piece of apparatus. It consists of a single armature core with a motor winding and a generator winding on it and each of these has its own commutator. Where the low voltage current flows into one of the windings it drives its as a motor and this in turn generates the higher voltage current in the other winding. Get a 100 watt 350 volt motor-generator; it is shown at F and costs about $75.00. The Panel Cut-Out.--This switch and fuse block is the same as that used in the experimental set. The Protective Condenser.--This is a fixed condenser having a capacitance of 1 mfd. and will stand 750 volts. It costs $2.00. Connecting Up the Transmitting Apparatus.--From all that has gone before you have seen that each piece of apparatus is fitted with terminal, wires, taps or binding posts. To connect up the parts of this transmitter it is only necessary to make the connections as shown in the wiring diagram Fig. 78. [Illustration: Fig. 78.--5 to 50 Watt C. W. Telegraph Transmitter. (With Single Oscillation Tube.)] A 200 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.--To make a continuous wave telegraph transmitter that will cover distances up to 200 miles all you have to do is to use two 5 watt vacuum tubes in _parallel_, all of the rest of the apparatus being exactly the same. Connecting the oscillator tubes up in parallel means that the two filaments are connected across the leads of the storage battery, the two grids on the same lead that goes to the aerial and the two plates on the same lead that goes to the positive pole of the generator. Where two or more oscillator tubes are used only one storage battery is needed, but each filament must have its own rheostat. The wiring diagram Fig. 79 shows how the two tubes are connected up in parallel. [Illustration: Fig. 79.--200 Mile C.W. Telegraph Transmitter (With Two Tubes in Parallel.)] A 500 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.--For sending to distances of over 200 miles and up to 500 miles you can use either: (1) three or four 5 watt oscillator tubes in parallel as described above, or (2) one 50 watt oscillator tube. Much of the apparatus for a 50 watt tube set is exactly the same as that used for the 5 watt sets. Some of the parts, however, must be proportionately larger though the design all the way through remains the same. The Apparatus and Connections.--The aerial series condenser, the blocking condenser, the grid condenser, the telegraph key, the chopper, the choke coil in the key circuit, the filament voltmeter and the protective condenser in the power circuit are identical with those described for the 5 watt transmitting set. The 50 Watt Vacuum Tube Oscillator.--This is the size of tube generally used by amateurs for long distance continuous wave telegraphy. A single tube will develop 2 to 3 amperes in your aerial. The filament takes a 10 volt current and a plate potential of 1,000 volts is needed. One of these tubes is shown in Fig. 80 and the cost is $30.00. A tube socket to fit it costs $2.50 extra. [Illustration: Fig. 80.--50 Watt Oscillator Vacuum Tube.] The Aerial Ammeter.--This should read to 5 amperes and the cost is $6.25. The Grid Leak Resistance.--It has the same resistance, namely 5,000 ohms as the one used with the 5 watt tube transmitter, but it is a little larger. It is listed at $1.65. The Oscillation Choke Coil.--The choke coil in the power circuit is made of about 260 turns of No. 30 B. & S. cotton covered magnet wire wound on a spool 2-1/4 inches in diameter and 3-1/4 inches long. The Filament Rheostat.--This is made to take care of a 10 volt current and it costs $10.00. The Filament Storage Battery.--This must develop 12 volts and one having an output of 40 ampere-hours costs about $25.00. The Protective Condenser.--This condenser has a capacitance of 1 mfd. and costs $2.00. The Motor-Generator.--Where you use one 50 watt oscillator tube you will need a motor-generator that develops a plate potential of 1000 volts and has an output of 200 watts. This machine will stand you about $100.00. The different pieces of apparatus for this set are connected up exactly the same as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 78. A 1000 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.--All of the parts of this transmitting set are the same as for the 500 mile transmitter just described except the motor generator and while this develops the same plate potential, i.e., 1,000 volts, it must have an output of 500 watts; it will cost you in the neighborhood of $175.00. For this long distance transmitter you use two 50 watt oscillator tubes in parallel and all of the parts are connected together exactly the same as for the 200 mile transmitter shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 79. CHAPTER XVII CONTINUOUS WAVE TELEGRAPH TRANSMITTING SETS WITH ALTERNATING CURRENT Within the last few years alternating current has largely taken the place of direct current for light, heat and power purposes in and around towns and cities and if you have alternating current service in your home you can install a long distance continuous wave telegraph transmitter with very little trouble and at a comparatively small expense. A 100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set.--The principal pieces of apparatus for this transmitter are the same as those used for the _100 Mile Continuous Wave Telegraph Transmitting Set_ described and pictured in the preceding chapter which used direct current, except that an _alternating current power transformer_ is employed instead of the more costly _motor-generator_. The Apparatus Required.--The various pieces of apparatus you will need for this transmitting set are: (1) one _hot-wire ammeter_ for the aerial as shown at E in Fig. 75, but which reads to 5 amperes instead of to 2.5 amperes; (2) one _tuning coil_ as shown at A in Fig. 77; (3) one aerial condenser as shown at B in Fig. 77; (4) one _grid leak_ as shown at C in Fig. 77; (5) one _telegraph key_ as shown at G in Fig. 75; (6) one _grid condenser_, made like the aerial condenser but having only two terminals; (7) one _5 watt oscillator tube_ as shown at E in Fig. 77; (8) one _.002 mfd. 3,000 volt by-pass condenser_, made like the aerial and grid condensers; (9) one pair of _choke coils_ for the high voltage secondary circuit; (10) one _milli-ammeter_; (11) one A. C. _power transformer_; (12) one _rheostat_ as shown at I in Fig. 75, and (13) one _panel cut-out_ as shown at K in Fig. 75. The Choke Coils.--Each of these is made by winding about 100 turns of No. 28, Brown and Sharpe gauge, cotton covered magnet wire on a spool 2 inches in diameter and 2-1/2 inches long, when it will have an inductance of about 0.5 _millihenry_ [Footnote: A millihenry is 1/1000th part of a henry.] at 1,000 cycles. The Milli-ammeter.--This is an alternating current ammeter and reads from 0 to 250 _milliamperes_; [Footnote: A _milliampere_ is the 1/1000th part of an ampere.] and is used for measuring the secondary current that energizes the plate of the oscillator tube. It looks like the aerial ammeter and costs about $7.50. The A. C. Power Transformer.--Differing from the motor generator set the power transformer has no moving parts. For this transmitting set you need a transformer that has an input of 325 volts. It is made to work on a 50 to 60 cycle current at 102.5 to 115 volts, which is the range of voltage of the ordinary alternating lighting current. This adjustment for voltage is made by means of taps brought out from the primary coil to a rotary switch. The high voltage secondary coil which energizes the plate has an output of 175 watts and develops a potential of from 350 to 1,100 volts. The low voltage secondary coil which heats the filament has an output of 175 watts and develops 7.5 volts. This transformer, which is shown in Fig. 81, is large enough to take care of from one to four 5 watt oscillator tubes. It weighs about 15 pounds and sells for $25.00. [Illustration: Fig. 81.--Alternation Current Power Transformer. (For C. W. Telegraphy and Wireless Telephony.)] [Illustration: The Transformer and Tuner of the World's Largest Radio Station. Owned by the Radio Corporation of America at Rocky Point near Port Jefferson L.I.] Connecting Up the Apparatus.--The wiring diagram Fig. 82 shows clearly how all of the connections are made. It will be observed that a storage battery is not needed as the secondary coil of the transformer supplies the current to heat the filament of the oscillator. The filament voltmeter is connected across the filament secondary coil terminals, while the plate milli-ammeter is connected to the mid-taps of the plate secondary coil and the filament secondary coil. [Illustration: Fig. 82. Wiring Diagram for 200 to 500 Mile C.W. Telegraph Transmitting Set. (With Alternating Current)] A 200 to 500 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set.--Distances of from 200 to 500 miles can be successfully covered with a telegraph transmitter using two, three or four 5 watt oscillator tubes in parallel. The apparatus needed is identical with that used for the 100 mile transmitter just described. The tubes are connected in parallel as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 83. [Illustration: Fig. 83.--Wiring Diagram for 500 to 1000 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.] A 500 to 1,000 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set.--With the apparatus described for the above set and a single 50 watt oscillator tube a distance of upwards of 500 miles can be covered, while with two 50 watt oscillator tubes in parallel you can cover a distance of 1,000 miles without difficulty, and nearly 2,000 miles have been covered with this set. The Apparatus Required.--All of the apparatus for this C. W. telegraph transmitting set is the same as that described for the 100 and 200 mile sets but you will need: (1) one or two _50 watt oscillator tubes with sockets;_ (2) one _key condenser_ that has a capacitance of 1 mfd., and a rated potential of 1,750 volts; (3) one _0 to 500 milli-ammeter_; (4) one _aerial ammeter_ reading to 5 amperes, and (5) an _A. C. power transformer_ for one or two 50 watt tubes. [Illustration: Broadcasting Government Reports by Wireless from Washington. This shows Mr. Gale at work with his set in the Post Office Department.] The Alternating Current Power Transformer.--This power transformer is made exactly like the one described in connection with the preceding 100 mile transmitter and pictured in Fig. 81, but it is considerably larger. Like the smaller one, however, it is made to work with a 50 to 60 cycle current at 102.5 to 115 volts and, hence, can be used with any A. C. lighting current. It has an input of 750 volts and the high voltage secondary coil which energizes the plate has an output of 450 watts and develops 1,500 to 3,000 volts. The low voltage secondary coil which heats the filament develops 10.5 volts. This transformer will supply current for one or two 50-watt oscillator tubes and it costs about $40.00. Connecting Up the Apparatus.--Where a single oscillator tube is used the parts are connected as shown in Fig. 82, and where two tubes are connected in parallel the various pieces of apparatus are wired together as shown in Fig. 83. The only difference between the 5 watt tube transmitter and the 50 watt tube transmitter is in the size of the apparatus with one exception; where one or two 50 watt tubes are used a second condenser of large capacitance (1 mfd.) is placed in the grid circuit and the telegraph key is shunted around it as shown in the diagram Fig. 83. CHAPTER XVIII WIRELESS TELEPHONE TRANSMITTING SETS WITH DIRECT AND ALTERNATING CURRENTS In time past the most difficult of all electrical apparatus for the amateur to make, install and work was the wireless telephone. This was because it required a _direct current_ of not less than 500 volts to set up the sustained oscillations and all ordinary direct current for lighting purposes is usually generated at a potential of 110 volts. Now as you know it is easy to _step-up_ a 110 volt alternating current to any voltage you wish with a power transformer but until within comparatively recent years an alternating current could not be used for the production of sustained oscillations for the very good reason that the state of the art had not advanced that far. In the new order of things these difficulties have all but vanished and while a wireless telephone transmitter still requires a high voltage direct current to operate it this is easily obtained from 110 volt source of alternating current by means of _vacuum tube rectifiers_. The pulsating direct currents are then passed through a filtering reactance coil, called a _reactor_, and one or more condensers, and these smooth them out until they approximate a continuous direct current. The latter is then made to flow through a vacuum tube oscillator when it is converted into high frequency oscillations and these are _varied_, or _modulated_, as it is called, by a _microphone transmitter_ such as is used for ordinary wire telephony. The energy of these sustained modulated oscillations is then radiated into space from the aerial in the form of electric waves. The distance that can be covered with a wireless telephone transmitter is about one-fourth as great as that of a wireless telegraph transmitter having the same input of initial current, but it is long enough to satisfy the most enthusiastic amateur. For instance with a wireless telephone transmitter where an amplifier tube is used to set up the oscillations and which is made for a plate potential of 100 volts, distances up to 10 or 15 miles can be covered. With a single 5 watt oscillator tube energized by a direct current of 350 volts from either a motor-generator or from a power transformer (after it has been rectified and smoothed out) speech and music can be transmitted to upwards of 25 miles. Where two 5 watt tubes connected in parallel are used wireless telephone messages can be transmitted to distances of 40 or 50 miles. Further, a single 50 watt oscillator tube will send to distances of 50 to 100 miles while two of these tubes in parallel will send from 100 to 200 miles. Finally, where four or five oscillator tubes are connected in parallel proportionately greater distances can be covered. A Short Distance Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set-With 110 Volt Direct Lighting Current.--For this very simple, short distance wireless telephone transmitting set you need the same apparatus as that described and pictured in the beginning of Chapter XVI for a _Short Distance C. W. Telegraph Transmitter_, except that you use a _microphone transmitter_ instead of a _telegraph key_. If you have a 110 volt direct lighting current in your home you can put up this short distance set for very little money and it will be well worth your while to do so. The Apparatus You Need.--For this set you require: (1) one _tuning coil_ as shown at A and B in Fig. 75; (2) one _aerial ammeter_ as shown at C in Fig. 75; (3) one _aerial condenser_ as shown at C in Fig. 75; (4) one _grid, blocking and protective condenser_ as shown at D in Fig. 75; (5) one _grid leak_ as shown at C in Fig. 77; (6) one _vacuum tube amplifier_ which is used as an _oscillator_; (7) one _6 volt storage battery_; (8) one _rheostat_ as shown at I in Fig. 75; (9) one _oscillation choke coil_; (10) one _panel cut-out_ as shown at K in Fig. 75 and an ordinary _microphone transmitter_. The Microphone Transmitter.--The best kind of a microphone to use with this and other telephone transmitting sets is a _Western Electric No. 284-W_. [Footnote: Made by the Western Electric Company, Chicago, Ill.] This is known as a solid back transmitter and is the standard commercial type used on all long distance Bell telephone lines. It articulates sharply and distinctly and there are no current variations to distort the wave form of the voice and it will not buzz or sizzle. It is shown in Fig. 84 and costs $2.00. Any other good microphone transmitter can be used if desired. [Illustration: Fig. 84.--Standard Microphone Transmitter.] Connecting Up the Apparatus.--Begin by connecting the leading-in wire with one of the terminals of the microphone transmitter, as shown in the wiring diagram Fig. 85, and the other terminal of this to one end of the tuning coil. Now connect _clip 1_ of the tuning coil to one of the posts of the hot-wire ammeter, the other post of this to one end of aerial condenser and, finally, the other end of the latter with the water pipe or other ground. The microphone can be connected in the ground wire and the ammeter in the aerial wire and the results will be practically the same. [Illustration: Fig. 85.--Wiring Diagram of Short Distance Wireless Telephone Set. (Microphone in Aerial Wire.)] Next connect one end of the grid condenser to the post of the tuning coil that makes connection with the microphone and the other end to the grid of the tube, and then shunt the grid leak around the condenser. Connect the + or _positive_ electrode of the storage battery with one terminal of the filament of the vacuum tube, the other terminal of the filament with one post of the rheostat and the other post of this with the - or _negative_ electrode of the battery. This done, connect _clip 2_ of the tuning coil to the + or _positive_ electrode of the battery and bring a lead from it to one of the switch taps of the panel cut-out. Now connect _clip 3_ of the tuning coil with one end of the blocking condenser, the other end of this with one terminal of the choke coil and the other terminal of the latter with the other switch tap of the cut-out. Connect the protective condenser across the direct current feed wires between the panel cut-out and the choke coil. Finally connect the ends of a lamp cord to the fuse socket taps of the cut-out, and connect the other ends to a lamp plug and screw it into the lamp socket of the feed wires. Screw in a pair of 5 ampere _fuse plugs_, close the switch and you are ready to tune the transmitter and talk to your friends. A 25 to 50 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator.--Where you have to start with 110 or 220 volt direct current and you want to transmit to a distance of 25 miles or more you will have to install a _motor-generator_. To make this transmitter you will need exactly the same apparatus as that described and pictured for the _100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set_ in Chapter XVI, except that you must substitute a _microphone transmitter_ and a _telephone induction coil_, or a _microphone transformer_, or still better, a _magnetic modulator_, for the telegraph key and chopper. The Apparatus You Need.--To reiterate; the pieces of apparatus you need are: (1) one _aerial ammeter_ as shown at E in Fig. 75; (2) one _tuning coil_ as shown at A in Fig. 77; (3) one _aerial condenser_ as shown at B in Fig. 77; (4) one _grid leak_ as shown at C in Fig. 77; (5) one _grid, blocking_ and _protective condenser_; (6) one _5 watt oscillator tube_ as shown at E in Fig. 77; (7) one _rheostat_ as shown at I in Fig. 75; (8) one _10 volt (5 cell) storage battery_; (9) one _choke coil_; (10) one _panel cut-out_ as shown at K in Fig. 75, and (11) a _motor-generator_ having an input of 110 or 220 volts and an output of 350 volts. In addition to the above apparatus you will need: (12) a _microphone transmitter_ as shown in Fig. 84; (13) a battery of four dry cells or a 6 volt storage battery, and either (14) a _telephone induction coil_ as shown in Fig. 86; (15) a _microphone transformer_ as shown in Fig. 87; or a _magnetic modulator_ as shown in Fig. 88. All of these parts have been described, as said above, in Chapter XVI, except the microphone modulators. [Illustration: Fig. 86.--Telephone Induction Coil. (Used with Microphone Transmitter.)] [Illustration: Fig. 87.--Microphone Transformer. (Used with Microphone Transmitter.)] [Illustration: Fig. 88.--Magnetic Modulator. (Used with Microphone Transmitter.)] The Telephone Induction Coil.--This is a little induction coil that transforms the 6-volt battery current after it has flowed through and been modulated by the microphone transmitter into alternating currents that have a potential of 1,000 volts of more. It consists of a primary coil of _No. 20 B. and S._ gauge cotton covered magnet wire wound on a core of soft iron wires while around the primary coil is wound a secondary coil of _No. 30_ magnet wire. Get a _standard telephone induction coil_ that has a resistance of 500 or 750 ohms and this will cost you a couple of dollars. The Microphone Transformer.--This device is built on exactly the same principle as the telephone induction coil just described but it is more effective because it is designed especially for modulating the oscillations set up by vacuum tube transmitters. As with the telephone induction coil, the microphone transmitter is connected in series with the primary coil and a 6 volt dry or storage battery. In the better makes of microphone transformer, there is a third winding, called a _side tone_ coil, to which a headphone can be connected so that the operator who is speaking into the microphone can listen-in and so learn if his transmitter is working up to standard. The Magnetic Modulator.--This is a small closed iron core transformer of peculiar design and having a primary and a secondary coil wound on it. This device is used to control the variations of the oscillating currents that are set up by the oscillator tube. It is made in three sizes and for the transmitter here described you want the smallest size, which has an output of 1/2 to 1-1/2 amperes. It costs about $10.00. How the Apparatus Is Connected Up.--The different pieces of apparatus are connected together in exactly the same way as the _100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Set_ in Chapter XVI except that the microphone transmitter and microphone modulator (whichever kind you use) is substituted for the telegraph key and chopper. Now there are three different ways that the microphone and its modulator can be connected in circuit. Two of the best ways are shown at A and B in Fig. 89. In the first way the secondary terminals of the modulator are shunted around the grid leak in the grid circuit as at A, and in the second the secondary terminals are connected in the aerial as at B. Where an induction coil or a microphone transformer is used they are shunted around a condenser, but this is not necessary with the magnetic modulator. Where a second tube is used as in Fig. 90 then the microphone and its modulator are connected with the grid circuit and _clip 3_ of the tuning coil. [Illustration: Fig. 89.--Wiring Diagram of 25 to 50 Mile Wireless Telephone. (Microphone Modulator Shunted Around Grid-Leak Condenser.)] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 89.--Microphone Modulator Connected in Aerial Wire.] [Illustration: Fig. 90.--Wiring Diagram of 50 to 100 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set.] A 50 to 100 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator.--As the initial source of current available is taken to be a 110 or 220 volt direct current a motor-generator having an output of 350 volts must be used as before. The only difference between this transmitter and the preceding one is that: (1) two 5 watt tubes are used, the first serving as an _oscillator_ and the second as a _modulator_; (2) an _oscillation choke coil_ is used in the plate circuit; (3) a _reactance coil_ or _reactor_, is used in the plate circuit; and (4) a _reactor_ is used in the grid circuit. The Oscillation Choke Coil.--You can make this choke coil by winding about 275 turns of _No. 28 B. and S. gauge_ cotton covered magnet wire on a spool 2 inches in diameter and 4 inches long. Give it a good coat of shellac varnish and let it dry thoroughly. The Plate and Grid Circuit Reactance Coils.--Where a single tube is used as an oscillator and a second tube is employed as a modulator, a _reactor_, which is a coil of wire wound on an iron core, is used in the plate circuit to keep the high voltage direct current of the motor-generator the same at all times. Likewise the grid circuit reactor is used to keep the voltage of the grid at a constant value. These reactors are made alike and a picture of one of them is shown in Fig. 91 and each one will cost you $5.75. [Illustration: Fig. 91.--Plate and Grid Circuit Reactor.] Connecting up the Apparatus.--All of the different pieces of apparatus are connected up as shown in Fig. 89. One of the ends of the secondary of the induction coil, or the microphone transformer, or the magnetic modulator is connected to the grid circuit and the other end to _clip 3_ of the tuning coil. A 100 to 200 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator.--By using the same connections shown in the wiring diagrams in Fig. 89 and a single 50 watt oscillator tube your transmitter will then have a range of 100 miles or so, while if you connect up the apparatus as shown in Fig. 90 and use two 50 watt tubes you can work up to 200 miles. Much of the apparatus for a 50 watt oscillator set where either one or two tubes are used is of the same size and design as that just described for the 5 watt oscillator sets, but, as in the C. W. telegraph sets, some of the parts must be proportionately larger. The required parts are (1) the _50 watt tube_; (2) the _grid leak resistance_; (3) the _filament rheostat_; (4) the _filament storage battery_; and (5) the _magnetic modulator_. All of these parts, except the latter, are described in detail under the heading of a _500 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set_ in Chapter XVI, and are also pictured in that chapter. It is not advisable to use an induction coil for the modulator for this set, but use, instead, either a telephone transformer, or better, a magnetic modulator of the second size which has an output of from 1-1/2 to 3-1/2 amperes. The magnetic modulator is described and pictured in this chapter. A 50 to 100 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 110 Volt Alternating Current.--If you have a 110 volt [Footnote: Alternating current for lighting purposes ranges from 102.5 volts to 115 volts, so we take the median and call it 110 volts.] alternating current available you can use it for the initial source of energy for your wireless telephone transmitter. The chief difference between a wireless telephone transmitting set that uses an alternating current and one that uses a direct current is that: (1) a _power transformer_ is used for stepping up the voltage instead of a motor-generator, and (2) a _vacuum tube rectifier_ must be used to convert the alternating current into direct current. The Apparatus You Need.--For this telephone transmitting set you need: (1) one _aerial ammeter_; (2) one _tuning coil_; (3) one _telephone modulator_; (4) one _aerial series condenser_; (5) one _4 cell dry battery_ or a 6 volt storage battery; (6) one _microphone transmitter_; (7) one _battery switch_; (8) one _grid condenser_; (9) one _grid leak_; (10) two _5 watt oscillator tubes with sockets_; (11) one _blocking condenser_; (12) one _oscillation choke coil_; (13) two _filter condensers_; (14) one _filter reactance coil_; (15) an _alternating current power transformer_, and (16) two _20 watt rectifier vacuum tubes_. All of the above pieces of apparatus are the same as those described for the _100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter_ in Chapter XVII, except: (a) the _microphone modulator_; (b) the _microphone transmitter_ and (c) the _dry_ or _storage battery_, all of which are described in this chapter; and the new parts which are: (d) the _rectifier vacuum tubes_; (e) the _filter condensers_; and (f) the _filter reactance coil_; further and finally, the power transformer has a _third_ secondary coil on it and it is this that feeds the alternating current to the rectifier tubes, which in turn converts it into a pulsating direct current. The Vacuum Tube Rectifier.--This rectifier has two electrodes, that is, it has a filament and a plate like the original vacuum tube detector, The smallest size rectifier tube requires a plate potential of 550 volts which is developed by one of the secondary coils of the power transformer. The filament terminal takes a current of 7.5 volts and this is supplied by another secondary coil of the transformer. This rectifier tube delivers a direct current of 20 watts at 350 volts. It looks exactly like the 5 watt oscillator tube which is pictured at E in Fig. 77. The price is $7.50. The Filter Condensers.--These condensers are used in connection with the reactance coil to smooth out the pulsating direct current after it has passed through the rectifier tube. They have a capacitance of 1 mfd. and will stand 750 volts. These condensers cost about $2.00 each. The Filter Reactance Coil.--This reactor which is shown in Fig. 92, has about the same appearance as the power transformer but it is somewhat smaller. It consists of a coil of wire wound on a soft iron core and has a large inductance, hence the capacitance of the filter condensers are proportionately smaller than where a small inductance is used which has been the general practice. The size you require for this set has an output of 160 milliamperes and it will supply current for one to four 5 watt oscillator tubes. This size of reactor costs $11.50. [Illustration: Fig. 92.--Filter Reactor for Smoothing out Rectified Currents.] Connecting Up the Apparatus.--The wiring diagram in Fig. 93 shows how the various pieces of apparatus for this telephone transmitter are connected up. You will observe: (1) that the terminals of the power transformer secondary coil which develops 10 volts are connected to the filaments of the oscillator tubes; (2) that the terminals of the other secondary coil which develops 10 volts are connected with the filaments of the rectifier tubes; (3) that the terminals of the third secondary coil which develops 550 volts are connected with the plates of the rectifier tubes; (4) that the pair of filter condensers are connected in parallel and these are connected to the mid-taps of the two filament secondary coils; (5) that the reactance coil and the third filter condenser are connected together in series and these are shunted across the filter condensers, which are in parallel; and, finally, (6) a lead connects the mid-tap of the 550-volt secondary coil of the power transformer with the connection between the reactor and the third filter condenser. [Illustration: Fig 93.--100 to 200 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter.] A 100 to 200 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 110 Volt Alternating Current.--This telephone transmitter is built up of exactly the same pieces of apparatus and connected up in precisely the same way as the one just described and shown in Fig. 93. Apparatus Required.--The only differences between this and the preceding transmitter are: (1) the _magnetic modulator_, if you use one, should have an output of 3-1/2 to 5 amperes; (2) you will need two _50 watt oscillator tubes with sockets_; (3) two _150 watt rectifier tubes with sockets_; (4) an _aerial ammeter_ that reads to _5 amperes_; (5) three _1 mfd. filter condensers_ in parallel; (6) _two filter condensers of 1 mfd. capacitance_ that will stand _1750 volts_; and (6) a _300 milliampere filter reactor_. The apparatus is wired up as shown in Fig. 93. CHAPTER XIX THE OPERATION OF VACUUM TUBE TRANSMITTERS The three foregoing chapters explained in detail the design and construction of (1) two kinds of C. W. telegraph transmitters, and (2) two kinds of wireless telephone transmitters, the difference between them being whether they used (A) a direct current, or (B) an alternating current as the initial source of energy. Of course there are other differences between those of like types as, for instance, the apparatus and connections used (_a_) in the key circuits, and (_b_) in the microphone circuits. But in all of the transmitters described of whatever type or kind the same fundamental device is used for setting up sustained oscillations and this is the _vacuum tube_. The Operation of the Vacuum Tube Oscillator.--The operation of the vacuum tube in producing sustained oscillations depends on (1) the action of the tube as a valve in setting up the oscillations in the first place and (2) the action of the grid in amplifying the oscillations thus set up, both of which we explained in Chapter XIV. In that chapter it was also pointed out that a very small change in the grid potential causes a corresponding and larger change in the amount of current flowing from the plate to the filament; and that if a vacuum tube is used for the production of oscillations the initial source of current must have a high voltage, in fact the higher the plate voltage the more powerful will be the oscillations. To understand how oscillations are set up by a vacuum tube when a direct current is applied to it, take a look at the simple circuits shown in Fig. 94. Now when you close the switch the voltage from the battery charges the condenser and keeps it charged until you open it again; the instant you do this the condenser discharges through the circuit which includes it and the inductance coil, and the discharge of a condenser is always oscillatory. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 94. Operation of Vacuum Tube Oscillators.] Where an oscillator tube is included in the circuits as shown at A and B in Fig. 94, the grid takes the place of the switch and any slight change in the voltage of either the grid or the plate is sufficient to start a train of oscillations going. As these oscillations surge through the tube the positive parts of them flow from the plate to the filament and these carry more of the direct current with them. To make a tube set up powerful oscillations then, it is only necessary that an oscillation circuit shall be provided which will feed part of the oscillations set up by the tube back to the grid circuit and when this is done the oscillations will keep on being amplified until the tube reaches the limit of its output. [Illustration: (C) Fig. 94.--How a Direct Current Sets up Oscillations.] The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters With Direct Current--Short Distance C. W. Transmitter.--In the transmitter shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 76 the positive part of the 110 volt direct current is carried down from the lamp socket through one side of the panel cut-out, thence through the choke coil and to the plate of the oscillator tube, when the latter is charged to the positive sign. The negative part of the 110 volt direct current then flows down the other wire to the filament so that there is a difference of potential between the plate and the filament of 110 volts. Now when the 6-volt battery current is switched on the filament is heated to brilliancy, and the electrons thrown off by it form a conducting path between it and the plate; the 110 volt current then flows from the latter to the former. Now follow the wiring from the plate over to the blocking condenser, thence to _clip 3_ of the tuning coil, through the turns of the latter to _clip 2_ and over to the filament and, when the latter is heated, you have a _closed oscillation circuit_. The oscillations surging in the latter set up other and like oscillations in the tuning coil between the end of which is connected with the grid, the aerial and the _clip 2_, and these surge through the circuit formed by this portion of the coil, the grid condenser and the filament; this is the amplifying circuit and it corresponds to the regenerative circuit of a receiving set. When oscillations are set up in it the grid is alternately charged to the positive and negative signs. These reversals of voltage set up stronger and ever stronger oscillations in the plate circuit as before explained. Not only do the oscillations surge in the closed circuits but they run to and fro on the aerial wire when their energy is radiated in the form of electric waves. The oscillations are varied by means of the telegraph key which is placed in the grid circuit as shown in Fig. 76. The Operation of the Key Circuit.--The effect in a C. W. transmitter when a telegraph key is connected in series with a buzzer and a battery and these are shunted around the condenser in the grid circuit, is to rapidly change the wave form of the sustained oscillations, and hence, the length of the waves that are sent out. While no sound can be heard in the headphones at the receiving station so long as the points of the key are not in contact, when they are in contact the oscillations are modulated and sounds are heard in the headphones that correspond to the frequency of the buzzer in the key circuit. The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Direct Current.--The chief differences between the long distance sets which use a direct current, i.e., those described in Chapter XVI, and the short distance transmitting sets are that the former use: (1) a motor-generator set for changing the low voltage direct current into high voltage direct current, and (2) a chopper in the key circuit. The way the motor-generator changes the low- into high-voltage current has been explained in Chapter XVI. The chopper interrupts the oscillations surging through the grid circuit at a frequency that the ear can hear, that is to say, about 800 to 1,000 times per second. When the key is open, of course, the sustained oscillations set up in the circuits will send out continuous waves but when the key is closed these oscillations are broken up and then they send out discontinuous waves. If a heterodyne receiving set, see Chapter XV, is being used at the other end you can dispense with the chopper and the key circuit needed is very much simplified. The operation of key circuits of the latter kind will be described presently. The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Alternating Current--With a Single Oscillator Tube.--Where an oscillator tube telegraph transmitter is operated by a 110 volt alternating current as the initial source of energy, a buzzer, chopper or other interruptor is not needed in the key circuit. This is because oscillations are set up only when the plate is energized with the positive part of the alternating current and this produces an intermittent musical tone in the headphones. Hence this kind of a sending set is called a _tone transmitter_. Since oscillations are set up only by the positive part or voltage of an alternating current it is clear that, as a matter of fact, this kind of a transmitter does not send out continuous waves and therefore it is not a C. W. transmitter. This is graphically shown by the curve of the wave form of the alternating current and the oscillations that are set up by the positive part of it in Fig. 95. Whenever the positive half of the alternating current energizes the plate then oscillations are set up by the tube and, conversely, when the negative half of the current charges the plate no oscillations are produced. [Illustration: Fig. 95.--Positive Voltage only sets up Oscillations.] You will also observe that the oscillations set up by the positive part of the current are not of constant amplitude but start at zero the instant the positive part begins to energize the plate and they keep on increasing in amplitude as the current rises in voltage until the latter reaches its maximum; then as it gradually drops again to zero the oscillations decrease proportionately in amplitude with it. Heating the Filament with Alternating Current.--Where an alternating current power transformer is used to develop the necessary plate voltage a second secondary coil is generally provided for heating the filament of the oscillation tube. This is better than a direct current for it adds to the life of the filament. When you use an alternating current to heat the filament keep it at the same voltage rather than at the same amperage (current strength). To do this you need only to use a voltmeter across the filament terminals instead of an ammeter in series with it; then regulate the voltage of the filament with a rheostat. The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Alternating Current--With Two Oscillator Tubes.--By using two oscillator tubes and connecting them up with the power transformer and oscillating circuits as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 83 the plates are positively energized alternately with every reversal of the current and, consequently, there is no time period between the ending of the oscillations set up by one tube and the beginning of the oscillations set up by the other tube. In other words these oscillations are sustained but as in the case of those of a single tube, their amplitude rises and falls. This kind of a set is called a _full wave rectification transmitter_. The waves radiated by this transmitter can be received by either a crystal detector or a plain vacuum-tube detector but the heterodyne receptor will give you better results than either of the foregoing types. The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Direct Current--Short Distance Transmitter.--The operation of this short distance wireless telephone transmitter, a wiring diagram of which is shown in Fig. 85 is exactly the same as that of the _Direct Current Short Distance C. W. Telegraph Transmitter_ already explained in this chapter. The only difference in the operation of these sets is the substitution of the _microphone transmitter_ for the telegraph key. The Microphone Transmitter.--The microphone transmitter that is used to vary, or modulate, the sustained oscillations set up by the oscillator tube and circuits is shown in Fig. 84. By referring to the diagram at A in this figure you will readily understand how it operates. When you speak into the mouthpiece the _sound waves_, which are waves in the air, impinge upon the diaphragm and these set it into vibration--that is, they make it move to and fro. When the diaphragm moves toward the back of the transmitter it forces the carbon granules that are in the cup closer together; this lowers their resistance and allows more current from the battery to flow through them; when the pressure of the air waves is removed from the diaphragm it springs back toward the mouth-piece and the carbon granules loosen up when the resistance offered by them is increased and less current can flow through them. Where the oscillation current in the aerial wire is small the transmitter can be connected directly in series with the latter when the former will surge through it. As you speak into the microphone transmitter its resistance is varied and the current strength of the oscillations is varied accordingly. The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Direct Current--Long Distance Transmitters.--In the wireless telephone transmitters for long distance work which were shown and described in the preceding chapter a battery is used to energize the microphone transmitter, and these two elements are connected in series with a _microphone modulator_. This latter device may be either (1) a _telephone induction coil_, (2) a _microphone transformer_, or (3) a _magnetic modulator_; the first two of these devices step-up the voltage of the battery current and the amplified voltage thus developed is impressed on the oscillations that surge through the closed oscillation circuit or the aerial wire system according to the place where you connect it. The third device works on a different principle and this will be described a little farther along. The Operation of Microphone Modulators--The Induction Coil.--This device is really a miniature transformer, see A in Fig. 86, and its purpose is to change the 6 volt direct current that flows through the microphone into 100 volts alternating current; in turn, this is impressed on the oscillations that are surging in either (1) the grid circuit as shown at A in Fig. 89, and in Fig. 90, (2) the aerial wire system, as shown at B in Fig. 89 and Fig. 93. When the current from the battery flows through the primary coil it magnetizes the soft iron core and as the microphone varies the strength of the current the high voltage alternating currents set up in the secondary coil of the induction coil are likewise varied, when they are impressed upon and modulate the oscillating currents. The Microphone Transformer.--This is an induction coil that is designed especially for wireless telephone modulation. The iron core of this transformer is also of the open magnetic circuit type, see A in Fig. 87, and the _ratio_ of the turns [Footnote: See Chapter VI] of the primary and the secondary coil is such that when the secondary current is impressed upon either the grid circuit or the aerial wire system it controls the oscillations flowing through it with the greatest efficiency. The Magnetic Modulator.--This piece of apparatus is also called a _magnetic amplifier_. The iron core is formed of very thin plates, or _laminations_ as they are called, and this permits high-frequency oscillations to surge in a coil wound on it. In this transformer, see A in Fig. 88, the current flowing through the microphone varies the magnetic permeability of the soft iron core by the magnetic saturation of the latter. Since the microphone current is absolutely distinct from the oscillating currents surging through the coil of the transformer a very small direct current flowing through a coil on the latter will vary or modulate very large oscillating currents surging through the former. It is shown connected in the aerial wire system at A in Fig. 88, and in Fig. 93. Operation of the Vacuum Tube as a Modulator.--Where a microphone modulator of the induction coil or microphone transformer type is connected in the grid circuit or aerial wire system the modulation is not very effective, but by using a second tube as a _modulator_, as shown in Fig. 90, an efficient degree of modulation can be had. Now there are two methods by which a vacuum tube can be used as a modulator and these are: (1) by the _absorption_ of the energy of the current set up by the oscillator tube, and (2) by _varying_ the direct current that energizes the plate of the oscillator tube. The first of these two methods is not used because it absorbs the energy of the oscillating current produced by the tube and it is therefore wasteful. The second method is an efficient one, as the direct current is varied before it passes into the oscillator tube. This is sufficient reason for describing only the second method. The voltage of the grid of the modulator tube is varied by the secondary coil of the induction coil or microphone transformer, above described. In this way the modulator tube acts like a variable resistance but it amplifies the variations impressed on the oscillations set up by the oscillator tube. As the magnetic modulator does the same thing a vacuum tube used as a modulator is not needed where the former is employed. For this reason a magnetic modulator is the cheapest in the long run. The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Alternating Current.--Where an initial alternating current is used for wireless telephony, the current must be rectified first and then smoothed out before passing into the oscillator tube to be converted into oscillations. Further so that the oscillations will be sustained, two oscillator tubes must be used, and, finally, in order that the oscillations may not vary in amplitude the alternating current must be first changed into direct current by a pair of rectifier vacuum tubes, as shown in Fig. 93. When this is done the plates will be positively charged alternately with every reversal of the current in which case there will be no break in the continuity of the oscillations set up and therefore in the waves that are sent out. The Operation of Rectifier Vacuum Tubes.--The vacuum tube rectifier is simply a two electrode vacuum tube. The way in which it changes a commercial alternating current into pulsating direct current is the same as that in which a two electrode vacuum tube detector changes an oscillating current into pulsating direct currents and this has been explained in detail under the heading of _The Operation of a Two Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector_ in Chapter XII. In the _C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Sets_ described in Chapter XVII, the oscillator tubes act as rectifiers as well as oscillators but for wireless telephony the alternating current must be rectified first so that a continuous direct current will result. The Operation of Reactors and Condensers.--A reactor is a single coil of wire wound on an iron core, see Fig. 90 and A in Fig. 91, and it should preferably have a large inductance. The reactor for the plate and grid circuit of a wireless telephone transmitter where one or more tubes are used as modulators as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 90, and the filter reactor shown in Fig. 92, operate in the same way. When an alternating current flows through a coil of wire the reversals of the current set up a _counter electromotive force_ in it which opposes, that is _reacts_, on the current, and the _higher_ the frequency of the current the _greater_ will be the _reactance_. When the positive half of an alternating current is made to flow through a large resistance the current is smoothed out but at the same time a large amount of its energy is used up in producing heat. But when the positive half of an alternating current is made to flow through a large inductance it acts like a large resistance as before and likewise smooths out the current, but none of its energy is wasted in heat and so a coil having a large inductance, which is called an _inductive reactance_, or just _reactor_ for short, is used to smooth out, or filter, the alternating current after it has been changed into a pulsating direct current by the rectifier tubes. A condenser also has a reactance effect on an alternating current but different from an induction coil the _lower_ the frequency the _greater_ will be the reactance. For this reason both a filter reactor and _filter condensers_ are used to smooth out the pulsating direct currents. CHAPTER XX HOW TO MAKE A RECEIVING SET FOR $5.00 OR LESS In the chapters on _Receptors_ you have been told how to build up high-grade sets. But there are thousands of boys, and, probably, not a few men, who cannot afford to invest $25.00, more or less, in a receiving set and would like to experiment in a small way. The following set is inexpensive, and with this cheap, little portable receptor you can get the Morse code from stations a hundred miles distant and messages and music from broadcasting stations if you do not live too far away from them. All you need for this set are: (1) a _crystal detector_, (2) a _tuning coil_ and (3) an _earphone_. You can make a crystal detector out of a couple of binding posts, a bit of galena and a piece of brass wire, or, better, you can buy one all ready to use for 50 cents. [Illustration: Wireless Receptor, the size of a Safety Match Box. A Youthful Genius in the person of Kenneth R. Hinman, Who is only twelve years old, has made a Wireless Receiving Set that fits neatly into a Safety Match Box. With this Instrument and a Pair of Ordinary Receivers, He is able to catch not only Code Messages but the regular Broadcasting Programs from Stations Twenty and Thirty Miles Distant.] The Crystal Detector.--This is known as the _Rasco baby_ detector and it is made and sold by the _Radio Specialty Company_, 96 Park Place, New York City. It is shown in Fig. 96. The base is made of black composition and on it is mounted a standard in which a rod slides and on one end of this there is fixed a hard rubber adjusting knob while the other end carries a thin piece of _phosphor-bronze wire_, called a _cat-whisker_. To secure the galena crystal in the cup you simply unscrew the knurled cap, place it in the cavity of the post and screw the cap back on again. The free end of the cat-whisker wire is then adjusted so that it will rest lightly on the exposed part of the galena. [Illustration: Fig. 96.--Rasco Baby Crystal Detector.] The Tuning Coil.--You will have to make this tuning coil, which you can do at a cost of less than $1.00, as the cheapest tuning coil you can buy costs at least $3.00, and we need the rest of our $5.00 to invest in the earphone. Get a cardboard tube, such as is used for mailing purposes, 2 inches in diameter and 3 inches long, see A in Fig. 97. Now wind on 250 turns of _No. 40 Brown and Sharpe gauge plain enameled magnet wire_. You can use _No. 40 double cotton covered magnet wire_, in which case you will have to shellac the tube and the wire after you get it on. [Illustration: Fig. 97.--How the Tuning Coil is Made.] As you wind on the wire take off a tap at every 15th turn, that is, scrape the wire and solder on a piece about 7 inches long, as shown in Fig. 99; and do this until you have 6 taps taken off. Instead of leaving the wires outside of the tube bring them to the inside of it and then out through one of the open ends. Now buy a _round wood-base switch_ with 7 contact points on it as shown at B in Fig. 97. This will cost you 25 or 50 cents. The Headphone.--An ordinary Bell telephone receiver is of small use for wireless work as it is wound to too low a resistance and the diaphragm is much too thick. If you happen to have a Bell phone you can rewind it with _No. 40_ single covered silk magnet wire, or enameled wire of the same size, when its sensitivity will be very greatly improved. Then you must get a thin diaphragm and this should _not_ be enameled, as this tends to dampen the vibrations of it. You can get a diaphragm of the right kind for 5 cents. The better way, though, is to buy an earphone made especially for wireless work. You can get one wound to 1000 ohms resistance for $1.75 and this price includes a cord. [Footnote: This is Mesco, No. 470 wireless phone. Sold by the Manhattan Electrical Supply Co., Park Place, N.Y.C.] For $1.00 extra you can get a head-band for it, and then your phone will look like the one pictured in Fig. 98. [Illustration: Fig. 98.--Mesco 1000 Ohm Head Set.] How to Mount the Parts.--Now mount the coil on a wood base, 1/2 or 1 inch thick, 3-1/2 inches wide and 5-1/2 inches long, and then connect one end of the coil to one of the end points on the switch, and connect each succeeding tap to one of the switch points, as shown schematically in Fig. 99 and diagrammatically in Fig. 100. This done, screw the switch down to the base. Finally screw the detector to the base and screw two binding posts in front of the coil. These are for the earphone. [Illustration: Fig. 99.--Schematic Layout of $5.00 Receiving Set.] [Illustration: Fig. 100.--Wiring Diagram for $5.00 Receiving Set.] The Condenser.--You do not have to connect a condenser across the earphone but if you do you will improve the receiving qualities of the receptor. How to Connect Up the Receptor.--Now connect up all the parts as shown in Figs. 99 and 100, then connect the leading-in wire of the aerial with the lever of the switch; and connect the free end of the tuning coil with the _ground_. If you have no aerial wire try hooking it up to a rain pipe that is _not grounded_ or the steel frame of an umbrella. For a _ground_ you can use a water pipe, an iron pipe driven into the ground, or a hydrant. Put on your headphone, adjust the detector and move the lever over the switch contacts until it is in adjustment and then, if all your connections are properly made, you should be able to pick up messages. [Illustration: Wireless Set made into a Ring, designed by Alfred G. Rinehart, of Elizabeth, New Jersey. This little Receptor is a Practical Set; it will receive Messages, Concerts, etc., Measures 1" by 5/8" by 7/8". An ordinary Umbrella is used as an Aerial.] APPENDIX USEFUL INFORMATION ABBREVIATIONS OF UNITS Unit Abbreviation ampere amp. ampere-hours amp.-hr. centimeter cm. centimeter-gram-second c.g.s. cubic centimeters cm.^3 cubic inches cu. in. cycles per second ~ degrees Centigrade °C. degrees Fahrenheit °F. feet ft. foot-pounds ft.-lb. grams g. henries h. inches in. kilograms kg. kilometers km. kilowatts kw. kilowatt-hours kw.-hr. kilovolt-amperes kv.-a. meters m. microfarads [Greek: mu]f. micromicrofarads [Greek: mu mu]f. millihenries mh. millimeters mm. pounds lb. seconds sec. square centimeters cm.^2 square inches sq. in. volts v. watts w. PREFIXES USED WITH METRIC SYSTEM UNITS Prefix Abbreviation Meaning micro [Greek: mu]. 1 millionth milli m. 1 thousandth centi c. 1 hundredth deci d. 1 tenth deka dk. 10 hekto h. 1 hundred kilo k. 1 thousand mega m. 1 million SYMBOLS USED FOR VARIOUS QUANTITIES Quantity Symbol capacitance C conductance g coupling co-efficient k current, instantaneous i current, effective value I decrement [Greek: delta] dielectric constant [Greek: alpha] electric field intensity [Greek: epsilon] electromotive force, instantaneous value E electromotive force, effective value F energy W force F frequency f frequency x 2[Greek: pi] [Greek: omega] impedance Z inductance, self L inductance, mutual M magnetic field intensity A magnetic flux [Greek: Phi] magnetic induction B period of a complete oscillation T potential difference V quantity of electricity Q ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter =3.1416 [Greek: pi] reactance X resistance R time t velocity v velocity of light c wave length [Greek: lambda] wave length in meters [Greek: lambda]m work W permeability [Greek: mu] Square root [Math: square root] TABLE OF ENAMELED WIRE No. of Turns Turns Ohms per Wire, per per Cubic Inch B.& S. Linear Square of Gauge Inch Inch Winding 20 30 885 .748 22 37 1400 1.88 24 46 2160 4.61 26 58 3460 11.80 28 73 5400 29.20 30 91 8260 70.90 32 116 21,000 7547.00 34 145 13,430 2968.00 36 178 31,820 1098.00 38 232 54,080 456.00 40 294 86,500 183.00 TABLE OF FREQUENCY AND WAVE LENGTHS W. L.--Wave Lengths in Meters. F.--Number of Oscillations per Second. O. or square root L. C. is called Oscillation Constant. C.--Capacity in Microfarads. L.--Inductance in Centimeters. 1000 Centimeters = 1 Microhenry. W.L. F O L.C. 50 6,000,000 .839 .7039 100 3,000,000 1.68 2.82 150 2,000,000 2.52 6.35 200 1,500,000 3.36 11.29 250 1,200,000 4.19 17.55 300 1,000,000 5.05 25.30 350 857,100 5.87 34.46 400 750,000 6.71 45.03 450 666,700 7.55 57.00 500 600,000 8.39 70.39 550 545,400 9.23 85.19 600 500,000 10.07 101.41 700 428,600 11.74 137.83 800 375,000 13.42 180.10 900 333,300 15.10 228.01 1,000 300,000 16.78 281.57 1,100 272,730 18.45 340.40 1,200 250,000 20.13 405.20 1,300 230,760 21.81 475.70 1,400 214,380 23.49 551.80 1,500 200,000 25.17 633.50 1,600 187,500 26.84 720.40 1,700 176,460 28.52 813.40 1,800 166,670 30.20 912.00 1,900 157,800 31.88 1,016.40 2,000 150,000 33.55 1,125.60 2,100 142,850 35.23 1,241.20 2,200 136,360 36.91 1,362.40 2,300 130,430 38.59 1,489.30 2,400 125,000 40.27 1,621.80 2,500 120,000 41.95 1,759.70 2,600 115,380 43.62 1,902.60 2,700 111,110 45.30 2,052.00 2,800 107,140 46.89 2,207.00 2,900 103,450 48.66 2,366.30 3,000 100,000 50.33 2,533.20 4,000 75,000 67.11 4,504.00 5,000 60,000 83.89 7,038.00 6,000 50,000 100.7 10,130.00 7,000 41,800 117.3 13,630.00 8,000 37,500 134.1 18,000.00 9,000 33,300 151.0 22,820.00 10,000 30,000 167.9 28,150.00 11,000 27,300 184.8 34,150.00 12,000 25,000 201.5 40,600.00 13,000 23,100 218.3 47,600.00 14,000 21,400 235.0 55,200.00 15,000 20,000 252.0 63,500.00 16,000 18,750 269.0 72,300.00 PRONUNCIATION OF GREEK LETTERS Many of the physical quantities use Greek letters for symbols. The following is the Greek alphabet with the way the letters are pronounced: a alpha b beta g gamma d delta e epsilon z zeta ae eta th theta i iota k kappa l lambda m mu n nu x Xi(Zi) o omicron p pi r rho s sigma t tau u upsilon ph phi ch chi ps psi o omega TABLE OF SPARKING DISTANCES In Air for Various Voltages between Needle Points Volts Distance Inches Centimeter 5,000 .225 .57 10,000 .470 1.19 15,000 .725 1.84 20,000 1.000 2.54 25,000 1.300 3.30 30,000 1.625 4.10 35,000 2.000 5.10 40,000 2.450 6.20 45,000 2.95 7.50 50,000 3.55 9.90 60,000 4.65 11.8 70,000 5.85 14.9 80,000 7.10 18.0 90,000 8.35 21.2 100,000 9.60 24.4 110,000 10.75 27.3 120,000 11.85 30.1 130,000 12.95 32.9 140,000 13.95 35.4 150,000 15.00 38.1 FEET PER POUND OF INSULATED MAGNET WIRE No. of Single Double Single Double B.& S. Cotton, Cotton, Silk, Silk, Enamel Gauge 4-Mils 8-Mils 1-3/4-Mils 4-Mils 20 311 298 319 312 320 21 389 370 408 389 404 22 488 461 503 498 509 23 612 584 636 631 642 24 762 745 800 779 810 25 957 903 1,005 966 1,019 26 1,192 1,118 1,265 1,202 1,286 27 1,488 1,422 1,590 1,543 1,620 28 1,852 1,759 1,972 1,917 2,042 29 2,375 2,207 2,570 2,435 2,570 30 2,860 2,534 3,145 2,900 3,240 31 3,800 2,768 3,943 3,683 4,082 32 4,375 3,737 4,950 4,654 5,132 33 5,590 4,697 6,180 5,689 6,445 34 6,500 6,168 7,740 7,111 8,093 35 8,050 6,737 9,600 8,584 10,197 36 9,820 7,877 12,000 10,039 12,813 37 11,860 9,309 15,000 10,666 16,110 38 14,300 10,636 18,660 14,222 20,274 39 17,130 11,907 23,150 16,516 25,519 40 21,590 14,222 28,700 21,333 32,107 INTERNATIONAL MORSE CODE AND CONVENTIONAL SIGNALS TO BE USED FOR ALL GENERAL PUBLIC SERVICE RADIO COMMUNICATION 1. A dash is equal to three dots. 2. The space between parts of the same letter is equal to one dot. 3. The space between two letters is equal to three dots. 4. The space between two words is equal to five dots. [Note: period denotes Morse dot, hyphen denotes Morse dash] A .- B -... C -.-. D -.. E . F ..-. G --. H .... I .. J .--- K -.- L .-.. M -- N -. O --- P .--. Q --.- R .-. S ... T - U ..- V ...- W .-- X -..- Y -.-- Z --.. � (German) .-.- � or � (Spanish-Scandinavian) .--.- CH (German-Spanish) ---- � (French) ..-.. � (Spanish) --.-- � (German) ---. � (German) ..-- 1 .---- 2 ..--- 3 ...-- 4 ....- 5 ..... 6 -.... 7 --... 8 ---.. 9 ----. 0 ----- Period .. .. .. Semicolon -.-.-. Comma -.-.-. Colon ---... Interrogation ..--.. Exclamation point --..-- Apostrophe .----. Hyphen -....- Bar indicating fraction -..-. Parenthesis -.--.- Inverted commas .-..-. Underline ..--.- Double dash -...- Distress Call ...---... Attention call to precede every transmission -.-.- General inquiry call -.-. --.- From (de) -.. . Invitation to transmit (go ahead) -.- Warning--high power --..-- Question (please repeat after ...)--interrupting long messages ..--.. Wait .-... Break (Bk.) (double dash) -...- Understand ...-. Error ........ Received (O.K.) .-. Position report (to precede all position messages) - .-. End of each message (cross) .-.-. Transmission finished (end of work) (conclusion of correspondence) ...-.- INTERNATIONAL RADIOTELEGRAPHIC CONVENTION LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS TO BE USED IN RADIO COMMUNICATION ABBREVIATION QUESTION ANSWER OR REPLY PRB Do you wish to communicate I wish to communicate by means by means of the International of the International Signal Code. Signal Code? QRA What ship or coast station is This is.... that? QRB What is your distance? My distance is.... QRC What is your true bearing? My true bearing is.... QRD Where are you bound for? I am bound for.... QRF Where are you bound from? I am bound from.... QRG What line do you belong to? I belong to the ... Line. QRH What is your wave length in My wave length is ... meters. meters? QRJ How many words have you to send? I have ... words to send. QRK How do you receive me? I am receiving well. QRL Are you receiving badly? I am receiving badly. Please Shall I send 20? send 20. ...-. ...-. for adjustment? for adjustment. QRM Are you being interfered with? I am being interfered with. QRN Are the atmospherics strong? Atmospherics are very strong. QRO Shall I increase power? Increase power. QRP Shall I decrease power? Decrease power. QRQ Shall I send faster? Send faster. QRS Shall I send slower? Send slower. QRT Shall I stop sending? Stop sending. QRU Have you anything for me? I have nothing for you. QRV Are you ready? I am ready. All right now. QRW Are you busy? I am busy (or: I am busy with...). Please do not interfere. QRX Shall I stand by? Stand by. I will call you when required. QRY When will be my turn? Your turn will be No.... QRZ Are my signals weak? You signals are weak. QSA Are my signals strong? You signals are strong. QSB Is my tone bad? The tone is bad. Is my spark bad? The spark is bad. QSC Is my spacing bad? Your spacing is bad. QSD What is your time? My time is.... QSF Is transmission to be in Transmission will be in alternate order or in series? alternate order. QSG Transmission will be in a series of 5 messages. QSH Transmission will be in a series of 10 messages. QSJ What rate shall I collect for...? Collect.... QSK Is the last radiogram canceled? The last radiogram is canceled. QSL Did you get my receipt? Please acknowledge. QSM What is your true course? My true course is...degrees. QSN Are you in communication with land? I am not in communication with land. QSO Are you in communication with I am in communication with... any ship or station (through...). (or: with...)? QSP Shall I inform...that you are Inform...that I am calling him. calling him? QSQ Is...calling me? You are being called by.... QSR Will you forward the radiogram? I will forward the radiogram. QST Have you received the general General call to all stations. call? QSU Please call me when you have Will call when I have finished. finished (or: at...o'clock)? QSV Is public correspondence being Public correspondence is being handled? handled. Please do not interfere. [Footnote: Public correspondence is any radio work, official or private, handled on commercial wave lengths.] QSW Shall I increase my spark Increase your spark frequency. frequency? QSX Shall I decrease my spark Decrease your spark frequency. frequency? QSY Shall I send on a wavelength Let us change to the wave length of ... meters? of ... meters. QSZ Send each word twice. I have difficulty in receiving you. QTA Repeat the last radiogram. When an abbreviation is followed by a mark of interrogation, it refers to the question indicated for that abbreviation. Useful Information Symbols Used For Apparatus alternator ammeter aerial arc battery buzzer condenser variable condenser connection of wires no connection coupled coils variable coupling detector gap, plain gap, quenched ground hot wire ammeter inductor variable inductor key resistor variable resistor switch s.p.s.t. " s.p.d.t. " d.p.s.t. " d.p.d.t. " reversing phone receiver " transmitter thermoelement transformer vacuum tube voltmeter choke coil DEFINITIONS OF ELECTRIC AND MAGNETIC UNITS The _ohm_ is the resistance of a thread of mercury at the temperature of melting ice, 14.4521 grams in mass, of uniform cross-section and a length of 106.300 centimeters. The _ampere_ is the current which when passed through a solution of nitrate of silver in water according to certain specifications, deposits silver at the rate of 0.00111800 of a gram per second. The _volt_ is the electromotive force which produces a current of 1 ampere when steadily applied to a conductor the resistance of which is 1 ohm. The _coulomb_ is the quantity of electricity transferred by a current of 1 ampere in 1 second. The _ampere-hour_ is the quantity of electricity transferred by a current of 1 ampere in 1 hour and is, therefore, equal to 3600 coulombs. The _farad_ is the capacitance of a condenser in which a potential difference of 1 volt causes it to have a charge of 1 coulomb of electricity. The _henry_ is the inductance in a circuit in which the electromotive force induced is 1 volt when the inducing current varies at the rate of 1 ampere per second. The _watt_ is the power spent by a current of 1 ampere in a resistance of 1 ohm. The _joule_ is the energy spent in I second by a flow of 1 ampere in 1 ohm. The _horse-power_ is used in rating steam machinery. It is equal to 746 watts. The _kilowatt_ is 1,000 watts. The units of capacitance actually used in wireless work are the _microfarad_, which is the millionth part of a farad, because the farad is too large a unit; and the _C. G. S. electrostatic unit of capacitance_, which is often called the _centimeter of capacitance_, which is about equal to 1.11 microfarads. The units of inductance commonly used in radio work are the _millihenry_, which is the thousandth part of a henry; and the _centimeter of inductance_, which is one one-thousandth part of a microhenry. Note.--For further information about electric and magnetic units get the _Bureau of Standards Circular No. 60_, called _Electric Units and Standards_, the price of which is 15 cents; also get _Scientific Paper No. 292_, called _International System of Electric and Magnetic Units_, price 10 cents. These and other informative papers can be had from the _Superintendent of Documents, Government Printing Office_, Washington, D. C. WIRELESS BOOKS The Admiralty Manual of Wireless Telegraphy. 1920. Published by His Majesty's Stationery Office, London. Ralph E. Batcher.--Prepared Radio Measurements. 1921. Wireless Press, Inc., New York City. Elmer E. Bucher.--Practical Wireless Telegraphy. 1918. Wireless Press, Inc., New York City. Elmer E. Bucher.--Vacuum Tubes in Wireless Communication. 1919. Wireless Press, Inc., New York City. Elmer E. Bucher.--The Wireless Experimenter's Manual. 1920. Wireless Press, Inc., New York City. A. Frederick Collins.--Wireless Telegraphy, Its History, Theory, and Practice. 1905. McGraw Pub. Co., New York City. J. H. Dellinger.--Principles Underlying Radio Communication. 1921. Signal Corps, U. S. Army, Washington, D. C. H. M. Dorsett.--Wireless Telegraphy and Telephony. 1920. Wireless Press, Ltd., London. J. A. Fleming.--Principles of Electric Wave Telegraphy. 1919. Longmans, Green and Co., London. Charles B. Hayward.--How to Become a Wireless Operator. 1918. American Technical Society, Chicago, Ill. G. D. Robinson.--Manual of Radio Telegraphy and Telephony. 1920. United States Naval Institute, Annapolis, Md. Rupert Stanley.--Textbook of Wireless Telegraphy. 1919. Longmans, Green and Co., London. E. W. Stone.--Elements of Radio Telegraphy. 1919. D, Van Nostrand Co., New York City. L. B. Turner.--Wireless Telegraphy and Telephony. 1921. Cambridge University Press. Cambridge, England. Send to the _Superintendent of Documents, Government Printing Office_, Washington, D. C., for a copy of _Price List No. 64_ which lists the Government's books and pamphlets on wireless. It will be sent to you free of charge. The Government publishes; (1) _A List of Commercial Government and Special Wireless Stations_, every year, price 15 cents; (2) _A List of Amateur Wireless Stations_, yearly, price 15 cents; (3) _A Wireless Service Bulletin_ is published monthly, price 5 cents a copy, or 25 cents yearly; and (4) _Wireless Communication Laws of the United States_, the _International Wireless Telegraphic Convention and Regulations Governing Wireless Operators and the Use of Wireless on Ships and Land Stations_, price 15 cents a copy. Orders for the above publications should be addressed to the _Superintendent of Documents, Government Printing Office, Washington, D. C._ Manufacturers and Dealers in Wireless Apparatus and Supplies: Adams-Morgan Co., Upper Montclair, N. J. American Hard Rubber Co., 11 Mercer Street, New York City. American Radio and Research Corporation, Medford Hillside, Mass. Brach (L. S.) Mfg. Co., 127 Sussex Ave., Newark, N. J. Brandes (C.) Inc., 237 Lafayette St., New York City. Bunnell (J. H.) Company, Park Place, New York City. Burgess Battery Company, Harris Trust Co. Bldg., Chicago, Ill. Clapp-Eastman Co., 120 Main St., Cambridge, Mass. Connecticut Telephone and Telegraph Co., Meriden, Conn. Continental Fiber Co., Newark, Del. Coto-Coil Co., Providence, R. I. Crosley Mfg. Co., Cincinnati, Ohio. Doolittle (F. M.), 817 Chapel St., New Haven, Conn. Edelman (Philip E.), 9 Cortlandt St., New York City. Edison Storage Battery Co., Orange, N. J. Electric Specialty Co., Stamford, Conn. Electrose Mfg. Co., 60 Washington St., Brooklyn, N. Y. General Electric Co., Schenectady, N. Y. Grebe (A. H.) and Co., Inc., Richmond Hill, N. Y. C. International Brass and Electric Co., 176 Beekman St., New York City. International Insulating Co., 25 West 45th St., New York City. King Amplitone Co., 82 Church St., New York City. Kennedy (Colin B.) Co., Rialto Bldg., San Francisco, Cal. Magnavox Co., Oakland, Cal. Manhattan Electrical Supply Co., Park Place, N. Y. Marshall-Gerken Co., Toledo, Ohio. Michigan Paper Tube and Can Co., 2536 Grand River Ave., Detroit, Mich. Murdock (Wm. J.) Co., Chelsea, Mass. National Carbon Co., Inc., Long Island City, N. Y. Pittsburgh Radio and Appliance Co., 112 Diamond St., Pittsburgh, Pa, Radio Corporation of America, 233 Broadway, New York City. Riley-Klotz Mfg. Co., 17-19 Mulberry St., Newark, N. J. Radio Specialty Co., 96 Park Place, New York City. Roller-Smith Co., 15 Barclay St., New York City. Tuska (C. D.) Co., Hartford, Conn. Western Electric Co., Chicago, Ill. Westinghouse Electric Co., Pittsburgh, Pa. Weston Electrical Instrument Co., 173 Weston Ave., Newark, N. J. Westfield Machine Co., Westfield, Mass. ABBREVIATIONS OF COMMON TERMS A. ..............Aerial A.C. ............Alternating Current A.F. ............Audio Frequency B. and S. .......Brown & Sharpe Wire Gauge C. ..............Capacity or Capacitance C.G.S. ..........Centimeter-Grain-Second Cond. ...........Condenser Coup. ...........Coupler C.W. ............Continuous Waves D.C. ............Direct Current D.P.D.T. ........Double Point Double Throw D.P.S.T. ........Double Point Single Throw D.X. ............Distance E. ..............Short for Electromotive Force (Volt) E.M.F. ..........Electromotive Force F. ..............Filament or Frequency G. ..............Grid Gnd. ............Ground I. ..............Current Strength (Ampere) I.C.W. ..........Interrupted Continuous Waves KW. .............Kilowatt L. ..............Inductance L.C. ............Loose Coupler Litz. ...........Litzendraht Mfd. ............Microfarad Neg. ............Negative O.T. ............Oscillation Transformer P. ..............Plate Prim. ...........Primary Pos. ............Positive R. ..............Resistance R.F. ............Radio Frequency Sec. ............Secondary S.P.D.T. ........Single Point Double Throw S.P.S.T. ........Single Point Single Throw S.R. ............Self Rectifying T. ..............Telephone or Period (time) of Complete Oscillation Tick. ...........Tickler V. ..............Potential Difference Var. ............Variometer Var. Cond. ......Variable Condenser V.T. ............Vacuum Tube W.L. ............Wave Length X. ..............Reactance GLOSSARY A BATTERY.--See Battery A. ABBREVIATIONS, CODE.--Abbreviations of questions and answers used in wireless communication. The abbreviation _of a question_ is usually in three letters of which the first is Q. Thus Q R B is the code abbreviation of "_what is your distance?_" and the answer "_My distance is_..." See Page 306 [Appendix: List of Abbreviations]. ABBREVIATIONS, UNITS.--Abbreviations of various units used in wireless electricity. These abbreviations are usually lower case letters of the Roman alphabet, but occasionally Greek letters are used and other signs. Thus _amperes_ is abbreviated _amp., micro_, which means _one millionth_, [Greek: mu], etc. See Page 301 [Appendix: Useful Abbreviations]. ABBREVIATIONS OF WORDS AND TERMS.--Letters used instead of words and terms for shortening them up where there is a constant repetition of them, as _A.C._ for _alternating current; C.W._ for _continuous waves; V.T._ for _vacuum tube_, etc. See Page 312 [Appendix: Abbreviations of Common Terms]. AERIAL.--Also called _antenna_. An aerial wire. One or more wires suspended in the air and insulated from its supports. It is the aerial that sends out the waves and receives them. AERIAL, AMATEUR.--An aerial suitable for sending out 200 meter wave lengths. Such an aerial wire system must not exceed 120 feet in length from the ground up to the aerial switch and from this through the leading-in wire to the end of the aerial. AERIAL AMMETER.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire_. AERIAL, BED-SPRINGS.--Where an outdoor aerial is not practicable _bed-springs_ are often made to serve the purpose. AERIAL CAPACITY.--See _Capacity, Aerial._ AERIAL COUNTERPOISE.--Where it is not possible to get a good ground an _aerial counterpoise_ or _earth capacity_ can be used to advantage. The counterpoise is made like the aerial and is supported directly under it close to the ground but insulated from it. AERIAL, DIRECTIONAL.--A flat-top or other aerial that will transmit and receive over greater distances to and from one direction than to and from another. AERIAL, GROUND.--Signals can be received on a single long wire when it is placed on or buried in the earth or immersed in water. It is also called a _ground antenna_ and an _underground aerial._ AERIAL, LOOP.--Also called a _coil aerial, coil antenna, loop aerial, loop antenna_ and when used for the purpose a _direction finder_. A coil of wire wound on a vertical frame. AERIAL RESISTANCE.--See _Resistance, Aerial._ AERIAL SWITCH.--See _Switch Aerial._ AERIAL WIRE.--(1) A wire or wires that form the aerial. (2) Wire that is used for aerials; this is usually copper or copper alloy. AERIAL WIRE SYSTEM.--An aerial and ground wire and that part of the inductance coil which connects them. The open oscillation circuit of a sending or a receiving station. AIR CORE TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Air Core._ AMATEUR AERIAL OR ANTENNA.--See _Aerial, Amateur._ ALTERNATOR.--An electric machine that generates alternating current. ALPHABET, INTERNATIONAL CODE.--A modified Morse alphabet of dots and dashes originally used in Continental Europe and, hence, called the _Continental Code_. It is now used for all general public service wireless communication all over the world and, hence, it is called the _International Code_. See page 305 [Appendix: International Morse Code]. ALTERNATING CURRENT (_A.C._)--See _Current._ ALTERNATING CURRENT TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer_. AMATEUR GROUND.--See _Ground, Amateur_. AMMETER.--An instrument used for measuring the current strength, in terms of amperes, that flows in a circuit. Ammeters used for measuring direct and alternating currents make use of the _magnetic effects_ of the currents. High frequency currents make use of the _heating effects_ of the currents. AMMETER, HOT-WIRE.--High frequency currents are usually measured by means of an instrument which depends on heating a wire or metal strip by the oscillations. Such an instrument is often called a _thermal ammeter_, _radio ammeter_ and _aerial ammeter_. AMMETER, AERIAL.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire_. AMMETER, RADIO.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire_. AMPERE.--The current which when passed through a solution of nitrate of silver in water according to certain specifications, deposits silver at the rate of 0.00111800 of a gram per second. AMPERE-HOUR.--The quantity of electricity transferred by a current of 1 ampere in 1 hour and is, therefore, equal to 3600 coulombs. AMPERE-TURNS.--When a coil is wound up with a number of turns of wire and a current is made to flow through it, it behaves like a magnet. B The strength of the magnetic field inside of the coil depends on (1) the strength of the current and (2) the number of turns of wire on the coil. Thus a feeble current flowing through a large number of turns will produce as strong a magnetic field as a strong current flowing through a few turns of wire. This product of the current in amperes times the number of turns of wire on the coil is called the _ampere-turns_. AMPLIFICATION, AUDIO FREQUENCY.--A current of audio frequency that is amplified by an amplifier tube or other means. AMPLIFICATION, CASCADE.--See _Cascade Amplification_. AMPLIFICATION, RADIO FREQUENCY.--A current of radio frequency that is amplified by an amplifier tube or other means before it reaches the detector. AMPLIFICATION, REGENERATIVE.--A scheme that uses a third circuit to feed back part of the oscillations through a vacuum tube and which increases its sensitiveness when used as a detector and multiplies its action as an amplifier and an oscillator. AMPLIFIER, AUDIO FREQUENCY.--A vacuum tube or other device that amplifies the signals after passing through the detector. AMPLIFIER, MAGNETIC.--A device used for controlling radio frequency currents either by means of a telegraph key or a microphone transmitter. The controlling current flows through a separate circuit from that of the radio current and a fraction of an ampere will control several amperes in the aerial wire. AMPLIFIERS, MULTI-STAGE.--A receiving set using two or more amplifiers. Also called _cascade amplification_. AMPLIFIER, VACUUM TUBE.--A vacuum tube that is used either to amplify the radio frequency currents or the audio frequency currents. AMPLITUDE OF WAVE.--The greatest distance that a point moves from its position of rest. AMPLIFYING TRANSFORMER, AUDIO.--See _Transformer, Audio Amplifying_. AMPLIFYING MODULATOR VACUUM TUBE.--See _Vacuum Tube, Amplifying Modulator_. AMPLIFYING TRANSFORMER RADIO.--See _Transformer, Radio Amplifying_. ANTENNA, AMATEUR.--See _Aerial, Amateur_. ANTENNA SWITCH.--See _Switch, Aerial_. APPARATUS SYMBOLS.--See _Symbols, Apparatus_. ARMSTRONG CIRCUIT.--See _Circuit, Armstrong_. ATMOSPHERICS.--Same as _Static_, which see. ATTENUATION.--In Sending wireless telegraph and telephone messages the amplitude of the electric waves is damped out as the distance increases. This is called _attenuation_ and it increases as the frequency is increased. This is the reason why short wave lengths will not carry as far as long wave lengths. AUDIO FREQUENCY AMPLIFIER.--See _Amplifier, Audio Frequency_. AUDIO FREQUENCY AMPLIFICATION.--See _Amplification, Audio Frequency_. AUDIBILITY METER.--See _Meter, Audibility_. AUDIO FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Audio_. AUDIO FREQUENCY CURRENT.--See _Current, Audio Frequency_. AUDION.--An early trade name given to the vacuum tube detector. AUTODYNE RECEPTOR.--See _Receptor, Autodyne_. AUTO TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Auto_. BAKELITE.--A manufactured insulating compound. B BATTERY.--See _Battery B_. BAND, WAVE LENGTH.--See _Wave Length Band_. BASKET WOUND COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance_. BATTERY, A.--The 6-volt storage battery used to heat the filament of a vacuum tube, detector or amplifier. BATTERY, B.--The 22-1/2-volt dry cell battery used to energize the plate of a vacuum tube detector or amplifier. BATTERY, BOOSTER.--This is the battery that is connected in series with the crystal detector. BATTERY, C.--A small dry cell battery sometimes used to give the grid of a vacuum tube detector a bias potential. BATTERY, EDISON STORAGE.--A storage battery in which the elements are made of nickel and iron and immersed in an alkaline _electrolyte_. BATTERY, LEAD STORAGE.--A storage battery in which the elements are made of lead and immersed in an acid electrolyte. BATTERY POLES.--See _Poles, Battery_. BATTERY, PRIMARY.--A battery that generates current by chemical action. BATTERY, STORAGE.--A battery that develops a current after it has been charged. BEAT RECEPTION.--See _Heterodyne Reception_. BED SPRINGS AERIAL.--See _Aerial, Bed Springs_. BLUB BLUB.--Over modulation in wireless telephony. BROAD WAVE.--See _Wave, Broad_. BRUSH DISCHARGE.--See _Discharge_. BUZZER MODULATION.--See _Modulation, Buzzer_. BLUE GLOW DISCHARGE.--See _Discharge_. BOOSTER BATTERY.--See _Battery, Booster_. BROADCASTING.--Sending out intelligence and music from a central station for the benefit of all who live within range of it and who have receiving sets. CAPACITANCE.--Also called by the older name of _capacity_. The capacity of a condenser, inductance coil or other device capable of retaining a charge of electricity. Capacitance is measured in terms of the _microfarad_. CAPACITIVE COUPLING.--See _Coupling, Capacitive_. CAPACITY.--Any object that will retain a charge of electricity; hence an aerial wire, a condenser or a metal plate is sometimes called a _capacity_. CAPACITY, AERIAL.--The amount to which an aerial wire system can be charged. The _capacitance_ of a small amateur aerial is from 0.0002 to 0.0005 microfarad. CAPACITY, DISTRIBUTED.--A coil of wire not only has inductance, but also a certain small capacitance. Coils wound with their turns parallel and having a number of layers have a _bunched capacitance_ which produces untoward effects in oscillation circuits. In honeycomb and other stagger wound coils the capacitance is more evenly distributed. CAPACITY REACTANCE.--See _Reactance, Capacity_. CAPACITY UNIT.--See _Farad_. CARBON RHEOSTATS.--See _Rheostat, Carbon_. CARBORUNDUM DETECTOR.--See _Detector_. CARRIER CURRENT TELEPHONY.--See _Wired-Wireless_. CARRIER FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Carrier_. CARRIER FREQUENCY TELEPHONY.--See _Wired-Wireless_. CASCADE AMPLIFICATION.--Two or more amplifying tubes hooked up in a receiving set. CAT WHISKER CONTACT.--A long, thin wire which makes contact with the crystal of a detector. CENTIMETER OF CAPACITANCE.--Equal to 1.11 _microfarads_. CENTIMETER OF INDUCTANCE.--Equal to one one-thousandth part of a _microhenry_. CELLULAR COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance_. C.G.S. ELECTROSTATIC UNIT OF CAPACITANCE.--See _Centimeter of Capacitance_. CHARACTERISTICS.--The special behavior of a device, such as an aerial, a detector tube, etc. CHARACTERISTICS, GRID.--See _Grid Characteristics_. CHOKE COILS.--Coils that prevent the high voltage oscillations from surging back into the transformer and breaking down the insulation. CHOPPER MODULATION.--See _Modulation, Chopper_. CIRCUIT.--Any electrical conductor through which a current can flow. A low voltage current requires a loop of wire or other conductor both ends of which are connected to the source of current before it can flow. A high frequency current will surge in a wire which is open at both ends like the aerial. Closed Circuit.--A circuit that is continuous. Open Circuit.--A conductor that is not continuous. Coupled Circuits.--Open and closed circuits connected together by inductance coils, condensers or resistances. See _coupling_. Close Coupled Circuits.--Open and closed circuits connected directly together with a single inductance coil. Loose Coupled Circuits.--Opened and closed currents connected together inductively by means of a transformer. Stand-by Circuits.--Also called _pick-up_ circuits. When listening-in for possible calls from a number of stations, a receiver is used which will respond to a wide band of wave lengths. Armstrong Circuits.--The regenerative circuit invented by Major E. H. Armstrong. CLOSE COUPLED CIRCUITS.--See _Currents, Close Coupled_. CLOSED CIRCUIT.--See _Circuit, Closed_. CLOSED CORE TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Closed Core_. CODE.-- Continental.--Same as _International_. International.--On the continent of Europe land lines use the _Continental Morse_ alphabetic code. This code has come to be used throughout the world for wireless telegraphy and hence it is now called the _International code_. It is given on Page 305. [Appendix: International Morse Code]. Morse.--The code devised by Samuel F. B. Morse and which is used on the land lines in the U. S. National Electric.--A set of rules and requirements devised by the _National Board of Fire Underwriters_ for the electrical installations in buildings on which insurance companies carry risks. This code also covers the requirements for wireless installations. A copy may be had from the _National Board of Fire Underwriters_, New York City, or from your insurance agent. National Electric Safety.--The Bureau of Standards, Washington, D. C., have investigated the precautions which should be taken for the safe operation of all electric equipment. A copy of the _Bureau of Standards Handbook No. 3_ can be had for 40 cents from the _Superintendent of Documents_. COEFFICIENT OF COUPLING.--See _Coupling, Coefficient of_. COIL AERIAL.--See _Aerial, Loop_. COIL ANTENNA.--See _Aerial, Loop_. COIL, INDUCTION.--An apparatus for changing low voltage direct currents into high voltage, low frequency alternating currents. When fitted with a spark gap the high voltage, low frequency currents are converted into high voltage, high frequency currents. It is then also called a _spark coil_ and a _Ruhmkorff coil_. COIL, LOADING.--A coil connected in the aerial or closed oscillation circuit so that longer wave lengths can be received. COIL, REPEATING.--See _Repeating Coil_. COIL, ROTATING.--One which rotates on a shaft instead of sliding as in a _loose coupler_. The rotor of a _variometer_ or _variocoupler_ is a _rotating coil_. COILS, INDUCTANCE.--These are the tuning coils used for sending and receiving sets. For sending sets they are formed of one and two coils, a single sending coil is generally called a _tuning inductance coil_, while a two-coil tuner is called an _oscillation transformer_. Receiving tuning coils are made with a single layer, single coil, or a pair of coils, when it is called an oscillation _transformer_. Some tuning inductance coils have more than one layer, they are then called _lattice wound_, _cellular_, _basket wound_, _honeycomb_, _duo-lateral_, _stagger wound_, _spider-web_ and _slab_ coils. COMMERCIAL FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Commercial_. CONDENSER, AERIAL SERIES.--A condenser placed in the aerial wire system to cut down the wave length. CONDENSER, VERNIER.--A small variable condenser used for receiving continuous waves where very sharp tuning is desired. CONDENSER.--All conducting objects with their insulation form capacities, but a _condenser_ is understood to mean two sheets or plates of metal placed closely together but separated by some insulating material. Adjustable Condenser.--Where two or more condensers can be coupled together by means of plugs, switches or other devices. Aerial Condenser.--A condenser connected in the aerial. Air Condenser.--Where air only separates the sheets of metal. By-Pass Condenser.--A condenser connected in the transmitting currents so that the high frequency currents cannot flow back through the power circuit. Filter Condenser.--A condenser of large capacitance used in combination with a filter reactor for smoothing out the pulsating direct currents as they come from the rectifier. Fixed Condenser.--Where the plates are fixed relatively to one another. Grid Condenser.--A condenser connected in series with the grid lead. Leyden Jar Condenser.--Where glass jars are used. Mica Condenser.--Where mica is used. Oil Condenser.--Where the plates are immersed in oil. Paper Condenser.--Where paper is used as the insulating material. Protective.--A condenser of large capacity connected across the low voltage supply circuit of a transmitter to form a by-path of kick-back oscillations. Variable Condenser.--Where alternate plates can be moved and so made to interleave more or less with a set of fixed plates. Vernier.--A small condenser with a vernier on it so that it can be very accurately varied. It is connected in parallel with the variable condenser used in the primary circuit and is used for the reception of continuous waves where sharp tuning is essential. CONDENSITE.--A manufactured insulating compound. CONDUCTIVITY.--The conductance of a given length of wire of uniform cross section. The reciprocal of _resistivity_. CONTACT DETECTORS.--See _Detectors, Contact_. CONTINENTAL CODE.--See _Code, Continental_. COULOMB.--The quantity of electricity transferred by a current of 1 ampere in 1 second. CONVECTIVE DISCHARGE.--See _Discharge_. CONVENTIONAL SIGNALS.--See _Signals, Conventional_. COUNTER ELECTROMOTIVE FORCE.--See _Electromotive Force, Counter_. COUNTERPOISE. A duplicate of the aerial wire that is raised a few feet above the earth and insulated from it. Usually no connection is made with the earth itself. COUPLED CIRCUITS.--See _Circuit, Coupled_. COUPLING.--When two oscillation circuits are connected together either by the magnetic field of an inductance coil, or by the electrostatic field of a condenser. COUPLING, CAPACITIVE.--Oscillation circuits when connected together by condensers instead of inductance coils. COUPLING, COEFFICIENT OF.--The measure of the closeness of the coupling between two coils. COUPLING, INDUCTIVE.--Oscillation circuits when connected together by inductance coils. COUPLING, RESISTANCE.--Oscillation circuits connected together by a resistance. CRYSTAL RECTIFIER.--A crystal detector. CURRENT, ALTERNATING (A.C.).--A low frequency current that surges to and fro in a circuit. CURRENT, AUDIO FREQUENCY.--A current whose frequency is low enough to be heard in a telephone receiver. Such a current usually has a frequency of between 200 and 2,000 cycles per second. CURRENT, PLATE.--The current which flows between the filament and the plate of a vacuum tube. CURRENT, PULSATING.--A direct current whose voltage varies from moment to moment. CURRENT, RADIO FREQUENCY.--A current whose frequency is so high it cannot be heard in a telephone receiver. Such a current may have a frequency of from 20,000 to 10,000,000 per second. CURRENTS, HIGH FREQUENCY.--(1) Currents that oscillate from 10,000 to 300,000,000 times per second. (2) Electric oscillations. CURRENTS, HIGH POTENTIAL.--(1) Currents that have a potential of more than 10,000 volts. (2) High voltage currents. CYCLE.--(1) A series of changes which when completed are again at the starting point. (2) A period of time at the end of which an alternating or oscillating current repeats its original direction of flow. DAMPING.--The degree to which the energy of an electric oscillation is reduced. In an open circuit the energy of an oscillation set up by a spark gap is damped out in a few swings, while in a closed circuit it is greatly prolonged, the current oscillating 20 times or more before the energy is dissipated by the sum of the resistances of the circuit. DECREMENT.--The act or process of gradually becoming less. DETECTOR.--Any device that will (1) change the oscillations set up by the incoming waves into direct current, that is which will rectify them, or (2) that will act as a relay. Carborundum.--One that uses a _carborundum_ crystal for the sensitive element. Carborundum is a crystalline silicon carbide formed in the electric furnace. Cat Whisker Contact.--See _Cat Whisker Contact_. Chalcopyrite.--Copper pyrites. A brass colored mineral used as a crystal for detectors. See _Zincite_. Contact.--A crystal detector. Any kind of a detector in which two dissimilar but suitable solids make contact. Ferron.--A detector in which iron pyrites are used as the sensitive element. Galena.--A detector that uses a galena crystal for the rectifying element. Iron Pyrites.--A detector that uses a crystal of iron pyrites for its sensitive element. Molybdenite.--A detector that uses a crystal of _sulphide of molybdenum_ for the sensitive element. Perikon.--A detector in which a _bornite_ crystal makes contact with a _zincite_ crystal. Silicon.--A detector that uses a crystal of silicon for its sensitive element. Vacuum Tube.--A vacuum tube (which see) used as a detector. Zincite.--A detector in which a crystal of _zincite_ is used as the sensitive element. DE TUNING.--A method of signaling by sustained oscillations in which the key when pressed down cuts out either some of the inductance or some of the capacity and hence greatly changes the wave length. DIELECTRIC.--An insulating material between two electrically charged plates in which there is set up an _electric strain_, or displacement. DIELECTRIC STRAIN.--The electric displacement in a dielectric. DIRECTIONAL AERIAL.--See _Aerial, Directional_. DIRECTION FINDER.--See _Aerial, Loop_. DISCHARGE.--(1) A faintly luminous discharge that takes place from the positive pointed terminal of an induction coil, or other high potential apparatus; is termed a _brush discharge_. (2) A continuous discharge between the terminals of a high potential apparatus is termed a _convective discharge_. (3) The sudden breaking-down of the air between the balls forming the spark gap is termed a _disruptive discharge_; also called an _electric spark_, or just _spark_ for short. (4) When a tube has a poor vacuum, or too large a battery voltage, it glows with a blue light and this is called a _blue glow discharge_. DISRUPTIVE DISCHARGE.--See _Discharge_. DISTRESS CALL. [Morse code:] ...---... (SOS). DISTRIBUTED CAPACITY.--See _Capacity, Distributed_. DOUBLE HUMP RESONANCE CURVE.--A resonance curve that has two peaks or humps which show that the oscillating currents which are set up when the primary and secondary of a tuning coil are closely coupled have two frequencies. DUO-LATERAL COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance_. DUPLEX COMMUNICATION.--A wireless telephone system with which it is possible to talk between both stations in either direction without the use of switches. This is known as the _duplex system_. EARTH CAPACITY.--An aerial counterpoise. EARTH CONNECTION.--Metal plates or wires buried in the ground or immersed in water. Any kind of means by which the sending and receiving apparatus can be connected with the earth. EDISON STORAGE BATTERY.--See _Storage Battery, Edison_. ELECTRIC ENERGY.--The power of an electric current. ELECTRIC OSCILLATIONS.--See _Oscillations, Electric_. ELECTRIC SPARK.--See _Discharge, Spark_. ELECTRICITY, NEGATIVE.--The opposite of _positive electricity_. Negative electricity is formed of negative electrons which make up the outside particles of an atom. ELECTRICITY, POSITIVE.--The opposite of _negative electricity_. Positive electricity is formed of positive electrons which make up the inside particles of an atom. ELECTRODES.--Usually the parts of an apparatus which dip into a liquid and carry a current. The electrodes of a dry battery are the zinc and carbon elements. The electrodes of an Edison storage battery are the iron and nickel elements, and the electrodes of a lead storage battery are the lead elements. ELECTROLYTES.--The acid or alkaline solutions used in batteries. ELECTROMAGNETIC WAVES.--See _Waves, Electric_. ELECTROMOTIVE FORCE.--Abbreviated _emf_. The force that drives an electric current along a conductor. Also loosely called _voltage_. ELECTROMOTIVE FORCE, COUNTER.--The emf. that is set up in a direction opposite to that in which the current is flowing in a conductor. ELECTRON.--(1) A negative particle of electricity that is detached from an atom. (2) A negative particle of electricity thrown off from the incandescent filament of a vacuum tube. ELECTRON FLOW.--The passage of electrons between the incandescent filament and the cold positively charged plate of a vacuum tube. ELECTRON RELAY.--See _Relay, Electron_. ELECTRON TUBE.--A vacuum tube or a gas-content tube used for any purpose in wireless work. See _Vacuum Tube_. ELECTROSE INSULATORS.--Insulators made of a composition material the trade name of which is _Electrose_. ENERGY, ELECTRIC.--See _Electric Energy_. ENERGY UNIT.--The _joule_, which see, Page 308 [Appendix: Definitions of Electric and Magnetic Units]. FADING.--The sudden variation in strength of signals received from a transmitting station when all the adjustments of both sending and receiving apparatus remain the same. Also called _swinging_. FARAD.--The capacitance of a condenser in which a potential difference of 1 volt causes it to have a charge of 1 coulomb of electricity. FEED-BACK ACTION.--Feeding back the oscillating currents in a vacuum tube to amplify its power. Also called _regenerative action_. FERROMAGNETIC CONTROL.--See _Magnetic Amplifier_. FILAMENT.--The wire in a vacuum tube that is heated to incandescence and which throws off electrons. FILAMENT RHEOSTAT.--See _Rheostat, Filament_. FILTER.--Inductance coils or condensers or both which (1) prevent troublesome voltages from acting on the different circuits, and (2) smooth out alternating currents after they have been rectified. FILTER REACTOR.--See _Reactor, Filter_. FIRE UNDERWRITERS.--See _Code, National Electric_. FIXED GAP.--See _Gap_. FLEMING VALVE.--A two-electrode vacuum tube. FORCED OSCILLATIONS.--See _Oscillations, Forced_. FREE OSCILLATIONS.--See _Oscillations, Free_. FREQUENCY, AUDIO.--(1) An alternating current whose frequency is low enough to operate a telephone receiver and, hence, which can be heard by the ear. (2) Audio frequencies are usually around 500 or 1,000 cycles per second, but may be as low as 200 and as high as 10,000 cycles per second. Carrier.--A radio frequency wave modulated by an audio frequency wave which results in setting of _three_ radio frequency waves. The principal radio frequency is called the carrier frequency, since it carries or transmits the audio frequency wave. Commercial.--(1) Alternating current that is used for commercial purposes, namely, light, heat and power. (2) Commercial frequencies now in general use are from 25 to 50 cycles per second. Natural.--The pendulum and vibrating spring have a _natural frequency_ which depends on the size, material of which it is made, and the friction which it has to overcome. Likewise an oscillation circuit has a natural frequency which depends upon its _inductance_, _capacitance_ and _resistance_. Radio.--(1) An oscillating current whose frequency is too high to affect a telephone receiver and, hence, cannot be heard by the ear. (2) Radio frequencies are usually between 20,000 and 2,000,000 cycles per second but may be as low as 10,000 and as high as 300,000,000 cycles per second. Spark.--The number of sparks per second produced by the discharge of a condenser. GAP, FIXED.--One with fixed electrodes. GAP, NON-SYNCHRONOUS.--A rotary spark gap run by a separate motor which may be widely different from that of the speed of the alternator. GAP, QUENCHED.--(1) A spark gap for the impulse production of oscillating currents. (2) This method can be likened to one where a spring is struck a single sharp blow and then continues to set up vibrations. GAP, ROTARY.--One having fixed and rotating electrodes. GAP, SYNCHRONOUS.--A rotary spark gap run at the same speed as the alternator which supplies the power transformer. Such a gap usually has as many teeth as there are poles on the generator. Hence one spark occurs per half cycle. GAS-CONTENT TUBE.--See _Vacuum Tube._ GENERATOR TUBE.--A vacuum tube used to set up oscillations. As a matter of fact it does not _generate_ oscillations, but changes the initial low voltage current that flows through it into oscillations. Also called an _oscillator tube_ and a _power tube._ GRID BATTERY.--See _Battery C._ GRID CHARACTERISTICS.--The various relations that could exist between the voltages and currents of the grid of a vacuum tube, and the values which do exist between them when the tube is in operation. These characteristics are generally shown by curves. GRID CONDENSER.--See _Condenser, Grid._ GRID LEAK.--A high resistance unit connected in the grid lead of both sending and receiving sets. In a sending set it keeps the voltage of the grid at a constant value and so controls the output of the aerial. In a receiving set it controls the current flowing between the plate and filament. GRID MODULATION.--See _Modulation, Grid._ GRID POTENTIAL.--The negative or positive voltage of the grid of a vacuum tube. GRID VOLTAGE.--See _Grid Potential._ GRINDERS.--The most common form of _Static,_ which see. They make a grinding noise in the headphones. GROUND.--See _Earth Connection._ GROUND, AMATEUR.--A water-pipe ground. GROUND, WATERPIPE.--A common method of grounding by amateurs is to use the waterpipe, gaspipe or radiator. GUIDED WAVE TELEPHONY.--See _Wired Wireless._ HARD TUBE.--A vacuum tube in which the vacuum is _high,_ that is, exhausted to a high degree. HELIX.--(1) Any coil of wire. (2) Specifically a transmitter tuning inductance coil. HENRY.--The inductance in a circuit in which the electromotive force induced is 1 volt when the inducing current varies at the rate of 1 ampere per second. HETERODYNE RECEPTION.--(1) Receiving by the _beat_ method. (2) Receiving by means of superposing oscillations generated at the receiving station on the oscillations set up in the aerial by the incoming waves. HETERODYNE RECEPTOR.--See _Receptor, Heterodyne._ HIGH FREQUENCY CURRENTS.--See _Currents, High Frequency._ HIGH FREQUENCY RESISTANCE.--See _Resistance, High Frequency._ HIGH POTENTIAL CURRENTS.--See _Currents, High Potential._ HIGH VOLTAGE CURRENTS.--See _Currents, High Potential._ HONEYCOMB COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ HORSE-POWER.--Used in rating steam machinery. It is equal to 746 watts. HOT WIRE AMMETER.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire._ HOWLING.--Where more than three stages of radio amplification, or more than two stages of audio amplification, are used howling noises are apt to occur in the telephone receivers. IMPEDANCE.--An oscillation circuit has _reactance_ and also _resistance,_ and when these are combined the total opposition to the current is called _impedance._ INDUCTANCE COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ INDUCTANCE COIL, LOADING.--See _Coil, Loading Inductance._ INDUCTIVE COUPLING.--See _Coupling, Inductive._ INDUCTIVE REACTANCE.--See _Reactance, Inductive._ INDUCTION COIL.--See _Coil, Induction._ INDUCTION, MUTUAL.--Induction produced between two circuits or coils close to each other by the mutual interaction of their magnetic fields. INSULATION.--Materials used on and around wires and other conductors to keep the current from leaking away. INSPECTOR, RADIO.--A U. S. inspector whose business it is to issue both station and operators' licenses in the district of which he is in charge. INTERFERENCE.--The crossing or superposing of two sets of electric waves of the same or slightly different lengths which tend to oppose each other. It is the untoward interference between electric waves from different stations that makes selective signaling so difficult a problem. INTERMEDIATE WAVES.--See _Waves._ IONIC TUBES.--See _Vacuum Tubes._ INTERNATIONAL CODE.--See Code, International. JAMMING.--Waves that are of such length and strength that when they interfere with incoming waves they drown them out. JOULE.--The energy spent in 1 second by a flow of 1 ampere in 1 ohm. JOULE'S LAW.--The relation between the heat produced in seconds to the resistance of the circuit, to the current flowing in it. KENOTRON.--The trade name of a vacuum tube rectifier made by the _Radio Corporation of America._ KICK-BACK.--Oscillating currents that rise in voltage and tend to flow back through the circuit that is supplying the transmitter with low voltage current. KICK-BACK PREVENTION.--See _Prevention, Kick-Back._ KILOWATT.--1,000 watts. LAMBDA.--See Pages 301, 302. [Appendix: Useful Abbreviations]. LATTICE WOUND COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ LIGHTNING SWITCH.--See _Switch, Lightning._ LINE RADIO COMMUNICATION.--See _Wired Wireless._ LINE RADIO TELEPHONY.--See _Telephony, Line Radio._ LITZENDRAHT.--A conductor formed of a number of fine copper wires either twisted or braided together. It is used to reduce the _skin effect._ See _Resistance, High Frequency._ LOAD FLICKER.--The flickering of electric lights on lines that supply wireless transmitting sets due to variations of the voltage on opening and closing the key. LOADING COIL.--See _Coil, Loading._ LONG WAVES.--See _Waves._ LOOP AERIAL.--See _Aerial, Loop._ LOOSE COUPLED CIRCUITS.--See _Circuits, Loose Coupled._ LOUD SPEAKER.--A telephone receiver connected to a horn, or a specially made one, that reproduces the incoming signals, words or music loud enough to be heard by a room or an auditorium full of people, or by large crowds out-doors. MAGNETIC POLES.--See _Poles, Magnetic._ MEGOHM.--One million ohms. METER, AUDIBILITY.--An instrument for measuring the loudness of a signal by comparison with another signal. It consists of a pair of headphones and a variable resistance which have been calibrated. MHO.--The unit of conductance. As conductance is the reciprocal of resistance it is measured by the _reciprocal ohm_ or _mho._ MICA.--A transparent mineral having a high insulating value and which can be split into very thin sheets. It is largely used in making condensers both for transmitting and receiving sets. MICROFARAD.--The millionth part of a _farad._ MICROHENRY.--The millionth part of a _farad._ MICROMICROFARAD.--The millionth part of a _microfarad._ MICROHM.--The millionth part of an _ohm._ MICROPHONE TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Microphone._ MICROPHONE TRANSMITTER.--See _Transmitter, Microphone._ MILLI-AMMETER.--An ammeter that measures a current by the one-thousandth of an ampere. MODULATION.--(1) Inflection or varying the voice. (2) Varying the amplitude of oscillations by means of the voice. MODULATION, BUZZER.--The modulation of radio frequency oscillations by a buzzer which breaks up the sustained oscillations of a transmitter into audio frequency impulses. MILLIHENRY.--The thousandth part of a _henry._ MODULATION, CHOPPER.--The modulation of radio frequency oscillations by a chopper which breaks up the sustained oscillations of a transmitter into audio frequency impulses. MODULATION, GRID.--The scheme of modulating an oscillator tube by connecting the secondary of a transformer, the primary of which is connected with a battery and a microphone transmitter, in the grid lead. MODULATION, OVER.--See _Blub Blub._ MODULATION, PLATE.--Modulating the oscillations set up by a vacuum tube by varying the current impressed on the plate. MODULATOR TUBE.--A vacuum tube used as a modulator. MOTION, WAVE.--(1) The to and fro motion of water at sea. (2) Waves transmitted by, in and through the air, or sound waves. (3) Waves transmitted by, in and through the _ether,_ or _electromagnetic waves,_ or _electric waves_ for short. MOTOR-GENERATOR.--A motor and a dynamo built to run at the same speed and mounted on a common base, the shafts being coupled together. In wireless it is used for changing commercial direct current into direct current of higher voltages for energizing the plate of a vacuum tube oscillator. MULTI-STAGE AMPLIFIERS.--See _Amplifiers, Multi-Stage._ MUTUAL INDUCTION.--See _Induction, Mutual._ MUSH.--Irregular intermediate frequencies set up by arc transmitters which interfere with the fundamental wave lengths. MUSHY NOTE.--A note that is not clear cut, and hence hard to read, which is received by the _heterodyne method_ when damped waves or modulated continuous waves are being received. NATIONAL ELECTRIC CODE.--See _Code, National Electric._ NATIONAL ELECTRIC SAFETY CODE.--See _Code, National Electric Safety._ NEGATIVE ELECTRICITY.--See _Electricity, Negative._ NON-SYNCHRONOUS GAP.--See _Gap, Non-Synchronous._ OHM.--The resistance of a thread of mercury at the temperature of melting ice, 14.4521 grams in mass, of uniform cross-section and a length of 106.300 centimeters. OHM'S LAW.--The important fixed relation between the electric current, its electromotive force and the resistance of the conductor in which it flows. OPEN CIRCUIT.--See _Circuit, Open._ OPEN CORE TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Open Core._ OSCILLATION TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Oscillation._ OSCILLATIONS, ELECTRIC.--A current of high frequency that surges through an open or a closed circuit. (1) Electric oscillations may be set up by a spark gap, electric arc or a vacuum tube, when they have not only a high frequency but a high potential, or voltage. (2) When electric waves impinge on an aerial wire they are transformed into electric oscillations of a frequency equal to those which emitted the waves, but since a very small amount of energy is received their potential or voltage is likewise very small. Sustained.--Oscillations in which the damping factor is small. Damped.--Oscillations in which the damping factor is large. Free.--When a condenser discharges through an oscillation circuit, where there is no outside electromotive force acting on it, the oscillations are said to be _free._ Forced.--Oscillations that are made to surge in a circuit whose natural period is different from that of the oscillations set up in it. OSCILLATION TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer._ OSCILLATION VALVE.--See _Vacuum Tube._ OSCILLATOR TUBE.--A vacuum tube which is used to produce electric oscillations. OVER MODULATION.--See _Blub Blub._ PANCAKE OSCILLATION TRANSFORMER.--Disk-shaped coils that are used for receiving tuning inductances. PERMEABILITY, MAGNETIC.--The degree to which a substance can be magnetized. Iron has a greater magnetic permeability than air. PHASE.--A characteristic aspect or appearance that takes place at the same point or part of a cycle. PICK-UP CIRCUITS.--See _Circuits, Stand-by._ PLATE CIRCUIT REACTOR.--See _Reactor, Plate Circuit._ PLATE CURRENT.--See _Current, Plate._ PLATE MODULATION.--See _Modulation, Plate._ PLATE VOLTAGE.--See _Foliage, Plate._ POLES, BATTERY.--The positive and negative terminals of the elements of a battery. On a storage battery these poles are marked + and - respectively. POLES, MAGNETIC.--The ends of a magnet. POSITIVE ELECTRICITY.--See _Electricity, Positive._ POTENTIAL DIFFERENCE.--The electric pressure between two charged conductors or surfaces. POTENTIOMETER.--A variable resistance used for subdividing the voltage of a current. A _voltage divider._ POWER TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Power._ POWER TUBE.--See _Generator Tube._ PRIMARY BATTERY.--See _Battery, Primary._ PREVENTION, KICK-BACK.--A choke coil placed in the power circuit to prevent the high frequency currents from getting into the transformer and breaking down the insulation. Q S T.--An abbreviation used in wireless communication for (1) the question "Have you received the general call?" and (2) the notice, "General call to all stations." QUENCHED GAP.--See _Gap, Quenched._ RADIATION.--The emission, or throwing off, of electric waves by an aerial wire system. RADIO AMMETER.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire._ RADIO FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Radio._ RADIO FREQUENCY AMPLIFICATION.--See _Amplification, Radio Frequency._ RADIO FREQUENCY CURRENT.--See _Current, Radio Frequency._ RADIO INSPECTOR.--See _Inspector, Radio_. RADIOTRON.--The trade name of vacuum tube detectors, amplifiers, oscillators and modulators made by the _Radio Corporation of America_. RADIO WAVES.--See _Waves, Radio_. REACTANCE.--When a circuit has inductance and the current changes in value, it is opposed by the voltage induced by the variation of the current. REACTANCE, CAPACITY.--The capacity reactance is the opposition offered to a current by a capacity. It is measured as a resistance, that is, in _ohms_. RECEIVING TUNING COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance_. RECEIVER, LOUD SPEAKING.--See _Loud Speakers_. RECEIVER, WATCH CASE.--A compact telephone receiver used for wireless reception. REACTANCE, INDUCTIVE.--The inductive reactance is the opposition offered to the current by an inductance coil. It is measured as a resistance, that is, in _ohms_. REACTOR, FILTER.--A reactance coil for smoothing out the pulsating direct currents as they come from the rectifier. REACTOR, PLATE CIRCUIT.--A reactance coil used in the plate circuit of a wireless telephone to keep the direct current supply at a constant voltage. RECEIVER.--(1) A telephone receiver. (2) An apparatus for receiving signals, speech or music. (3) Better called a _receptor_ to distinguish it from a telephone receiver. RECTIFIER.--(1) An apparatus for changing alternating current into pulsating direct current. (2) Specifically in wireless (_a_) a crystal or vacuum tube detector, and (_b_) a two-electrode vacuum tube used for changing commercial alternating current into direct current for wireless telephony. REGENERATIVE AMPLIFICATION.--See _Amplification, Regenerative_. RECEPTOR.--A receiving set. RECEPTOR, AUTODYNE.--A receptor that has a regenerative circuit and the same tube is used as a detector and as a generator of local oscillations. RECEPTOR, BEAT.--A heterodyne receptor. RECEPTOR, HETERODYNE.--A receiving set that uses a separate vacuum tube to set up the second series of waves for beat reception. REGENERATIVE ACTION.--See _Feed-Back Action._ REGENERATIVE AMPLIFICATION.--See _Amplification, Regenerative._ RELAY, ELECTRON.--A vacuum tube when used as a detector or an amplifier. REPEATING COIL.--A transformer used in connecting up a wireless receiver with a wire transmitter. RESISTANCE.--The opposition offered by a wire or other conductor to the passage of a current. RESISTANCE, AERIAL.--The resistance of the aerial wire to oscillating currents. This is greater than its ordinary ohmic resistance due to the skin effect. See _Resistance, High Frequency._ RESISTANCE BOX.--See _Resistor._ RESISTANCE COUPLING.--See _Coupling, Resistance._ RESISTANCE, HIGH FREQUENCY.--When a high frequency current oscillates on a wire two things take place that are different than when a direct or alternating current flows through it, and these are (1) the current inside of the wire lags behind that of the current on the surface, and (2) the amplitude of the current is largest on the surface and grows smaller as the center of the wire is reached. This uneven distribution of the current is known as the _skin effect_ and it amounts to the same thing as reducing the size of the wire, hence the resistance is increased. RESISTIVITY.--The resistance of a given length of wire of uniform cross section. The reciprocal of _conductivity._ RESISTOR.--A fixed or variable resistance unit or a group of such units. Variable resistors are also called _resistance boxes_ and more often _rheostats._ RESONANCE.--(1) Simple resonance of sound is its increase set up by one body by the sympathetic vibration of a second body. (2) By extension the increase in the amplitude of electric oscillations when the circuit in which they surge has a _natural_ period that is the same, or nearly the same, as the period of the first oscillation circuit. RHEOSTAT.--A variable resistance unit. See _Resistor._ RHEOSTAT, CARBON.--A carbon rod, or carbon plates or blocks, when used as variable resistances. RHEOSTAT, FILAMENT.--A variable resistance used for keeping the current of the storage battery which heats the filament of a vacuum tube at a constant voltage. ROTATING COIL.--See _Coil._ ROTARY GAP.--See _Gap._ ROTOR.--The rotating coil of a variometer or a variocoupler. RUHMKORFF COIL.--See _Coil, Induction._ SATURATION.--The maximum plate current that a vacuum tube will take. SENSITIVE SPOTS.--Spots on detector crystals that are sensitive to the action of electric oscillations. SHORT WAVES.--See _Waves._ SIDE WAVES.--See _Wave Length Band._ SIGNALS, CONVENTIONAL.--(1) The International Morse alphabet and numeral code, punctuation marks, and a few important abbreviations used in wireless telegraphy. (2) Dot and dash signals for distress call, invitation to transmit, etc. Now used for all general public service wireless communication. SKIN EFFECT.--See _Resistance, High Frequency._ SOFT TUBE.--A vacuum tube in which the vacuum is low, that is, it is not highly exhausted. SPACE CHARGE EFFECT.--The electric field intensity due to the pressure of the negative electrons in the space between the filament and plate which at last equals and neutralizes that due to the positive potential of the plate so that there is no force acting on the electrons near the filament. SPARK.--See _Discharge._ SPARK COIL.--See _Coil, Induction._ SPARK DISCHARGE.--See _Spark, Electric._ SPARK FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Spark._ SPARK GAP.--(1) A _spark gap,_ without the hyphen, means the apparatus in which sparks take place; it is also called a _spark discharger._ (2) _Spark-gap,_ with the hyphen, means the air-gap between the opposed faces of the electrodes in which sparks are produced. Plain.--A spark gap with fixed electrodes. Rotary.--A spark gap with a pair of fixed electrodes and a number of electrodes mounted on a rotating element. Quenched.--A spark gap formed of a number of metal plates placed closely together and insulated from each other. SPIDER WEB INDUCTANCE COIL.--See _Coil, Spider Web Inductance._ SPREADER.--A stick of wood, or spar, that holds the wires of the aerial apart. STAGGER WOUND COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ STAND-BY CIRCUITS.--See _Circuits, Stand-By._ STATIC.--Also called _atmospherics, grinders, strays, X's,_ and, when bad enough, by other names. It is an electrical disturbance in the atmosphere which makes noises in the telephone receiver. STATOR.--The fixed or stationary coil of a variometer or a variocoupler. STORAGE BATTERY.--See _Battery, Storage._ STRAY ELIMINATION.--A method for increasing the strength of the signals as against the strength of the strays. See _Static._ STRAYS.--See _Static_. STRANDED WIRE.--See _Wire, Stranded_. SUPER-HETERODYNE RECEPTOR.--See _Heterodyne, Super_. SWINGING.--See _Fading_. SWITCH, AERIAL.--A switch used to change over from the sending to the receiving set, and the other way about, and connect them with the aerial. SWITCH, LIGHTNING.--The switch that connects the aerial with the outside ground when the apparatus is not in use. SYMBOLS, APPARATUS.--Also called _conventional symbols_. These are diagrammatic lines representing various parts of apparatus so that when a wiring diagram of a transmitter or a receptor is to be made it is only necessary to connect them together. They are easy to make and easy to read. See Page 307 [Appendix: Symbols Used for Apparatus]. SYNCHRONOUS GAP.--See _Gap, Synchronous_. TELEPHONY, LINE RADIO.--See _Wired Wireless_. THERMAL AMMETER.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire_. THREE ELECTRODE VACUUM TUBE.--_See Vacuum Tube, Three Electrode_. TIKKER.--A slipping contact device that breaks up the sustained oscillations at the receiving end into groups so that the signals can be heard in the head phones. The device usually consists of a fine steel or gold wire slipping in the smooth groove of a rotating brass wheel. TRANSFORMER.--A primary and a secondary coil for stepping up or down a primary alternating or oscillating current. A. C.--See _Power Transformer_. Air Cooled.--A transformer in which the coils are exposed to the air. Air Core.--With high frequency currents it is the general practice not to use iron cores as these tend to choke off the oscillations. Hence the core consists of the air inside of the coils. Auto.--A single coil of wire in which one part forms the primary and the other part the secondary by bringing out an intermediate tap. Audio Amplifying.--This is a transformer with an iron core and is used for frequencies up to say 3,000. Closed Core.--A transformer in which the path of the magnetic flux is entirely through iron. Power transformers have closed cores. Microphone.--A small transformer for modulating the oscillations set up by an arc or a vacuum tube oscillator. Oil Cooled.--A transformer in which the coils are immersed in oil. Open Core.--A transformer in which the path of the magnetic flux is partly through iron and partly through air. Induction coils have open cores. Oscillation.--A coil or coils for transforming or stepping down or up oscillating currents. Oscillation transformers usually have no iron cores when they are also called _air core transformers._ Power.--A transformer for stepping down a commercial alternating current for lighting and heating the filament and for stepping up the commercial a.c., for charging the plate of a vacuum tube oscillator. Radio Amplifying.--This is a transformer with an air core. It does not in itself amplify but is so called because it is used in connection with an amplifying tube. TRANSMITTER, MICROPHONE.--A telephone transmitter of the kind that is used in the Bell telephone system. TRANSMITTING TUNING COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ TUNING.--When the open and closed oscillation circuits of a transmitter or a receptor are adjusted so that both of the former will permit electric oscillations to surge through them with the same frequency, they are said to be tuned. Likewise, when the sending and receiving stations are adjusted to the same wave length they are said to be _tuned._ Coarse Tuning.--The first adjustment in the tuning oscillation circuits of a receptor is made with the inductance coil and this tunes them coarse, or roughly. Fine Tuning.--After the oscillation circuits have been roughly tuned with the inductance coil the exact adjustment is obtained with the variable condenser and this is _fine tuning._ Sharp.--When a sending set will transmit or a receiving set will receive a wave of given length only it is said to be sharply tuned. The smaller the decrement the sharper the tuning. TUNING COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ TWO ELECTRODE VACUUM TUBE.--See _Vacuum Tube, Two Electrode._ VACUUM TUBE.--A tube with two or three electrodes from which the air has been exhausted, or which is filled with an inert gas, and used as a detector, an amplifier, an oscillator or a modulator in wireless telegraphy and telephony. Amplifier.--See _Amplifier, Vacuum Tube._ Amplifying Modulator.--A vacuum tube used for modulating and amplifying the oscillations set up by the sending set. Gas Content.--A tube made like a vacuum tube and used as a detector but which contains an inert gas instead of being exhausted. Hard.--See _Hard Tube._ Rectifier.--(1) A vacuum tube detector. (2) a two-electrode vacuum tube used for changing commercial alternating current into direct current for wireless telephony. Soft.--See _Soft Tube._ Three Electrode.--A vacuum tube with three electrodes, namely a filament, a grid and a plate. Two Electrode.--A vacuum tube with two electrodes, namely the filament and the plate. VALVE.--See _Vacuum Tube._ VALVE, FLEMING.--See _Fleming Valve._ VARIABLE CONDENSER.--See _Condenser, Variable._ VARIABLE INDUCTANCE.--See _Inductance, Variable._ VARIABLE RESISTANCE.--See _Resistance, Variable._ VARIOCOUPLER.--A tuning device for varying the inductance of the receiving oscillation circuits. It consists of a fixed and a rotatable coil whose windings are not connected with each other. VARIOMETER.--A tuning device for varying the inductance of the receiving oscillation currents. It consists of a fixed and a rotatable coil with the coils connected in series. VERNIER CONDENSER.--See _Condenser, Vernier._ VOLT.--The electromotive force which produces a current of 1 ampere when steadily applied to a conductor the resistance of which is one ohm. VOLTAGE DIVIDER.--See _Potentiometer._ VOLTAGE, PLATE.--The voltage of the current that is used to energize the plate of a vacuum tube. VOLTMETER.--An instrument for measuring the voltage of an electric current. WATCH CASE RECEIVER.--See _Receiver, Watch Case._ WATER-PIPE GROUND.--See _Ground, Water-Pipe._ WATT.--The power spent by a current of 1 ampere in a resistance of 1 ohm. WAVE, BROAD.--A wave having a high decrement, when the strength of the signals is nearly the same over a wide range of wave lengths. WAVE LENGTH.--Every wave of whatever kind has a length. The wave length is usually taken to mean the distance between the crests of two successive waves. WAVE LENGTH BAND.--In wireless reception when continuous waves are being sent out and these are modulated by a microphone transmitter the different audio frequencies set up corresponding radio frequencies and the energy of these are emitted by the aerial; this results in waves of different lengths, or a band of waves as it is called. WAVE METER.--An apparatus for measuring the lengths of electric waves set up in the oscillation circuits of sending and receiving sets. WAVE MOTION.--Disturbances set up in the surrounding medium as water waves in and on the water, sound waves in the air and electric waves in the ether. WAVES.--See _Wave Motion_. WAVES, ELECTRIC.--Electromagnetic waves set up in and transmitted by and through the ether. Continuous. Abbreviated C.W.--Waves that are emitted without a break from the aerial. Also called _undamped waves_. Discontinuous.--Waves that are emitted periodically from the aerial. Also called _damped waves_. Damped.--See _Discontinuous Waves_. Intermediate.--Waves from 600 to 2,000 meters in length. Long.--Waves over 2,000 meters in length. Radio.--Electric waves used in wireless telegraphy and telephony. Short.--Waves up to 600 meters in length. Wireless.--Electric waves used in wireless telegraphy and telephony. Undamped.--See _Continuous Waves_. WIRELESS TELEGRAPH CODE.--See _Code, International_. WIRE, ENAMELLED.--Wire that is given a thin coat of enamel which insulates it. WIRE, PHOSPHOR BRONZE.--A very strong wire made of an alloy of copper and containing a trace of phosphorus. WIRED WIRELESS.--Continuous waves of high frequency that are sent over telephone wires instead of through space. Also called _line radio communication; carrier frequency telephony, carrier current telephony; guided wave telephony_ and _wired wireless._ X'S.--See _Static._ ZINCITE.--See _Detector._ WIRELESS DON'TS AERIAL WIRE DON'TS _Don't_ use iron wire for your aerial. _Don't_ fail to insulate it well at both ends. _Don't_ have it longer than 75 feet for sending out a 200-meter wave. _Don't_ fail to use a lightning arrester, or better, a lightning switch, for your receiving set. _Don't_ fail to use a lightning switch with your transmitting set. _Don't_ forget you must have an outside ground. _Don't_ fail to have the resistance of your aerial as small as possible. Use stranded wire. _Don't_ fail to solder the leading-in wire to the aerial. _Don't_ fail to properly insulate the leading-in wire where it goes through the window or wall. _Don't_ let your aerial or leading-in wire touch trees or other objects. _Don't_ let your aerial come too close to overhead wires of any kind. _Don't_ run your aerial directly under, or over, or parallel with electric light or other wires. _Don't_ fail to make a good ground connection with the water pipe inside. TRANSMITTING DON'TS _Don't_ attempt to send until you get your license. _Don't_ fail to live up to every rule and regulation. _Don't_ use an input of more than 1/2 a kilowatt if you live within 5 nautical miles of a naval station. _Don't_ send on more than a 200-meter wave if you have a restricted or general amateur license. _Don't_ use spark gap electrodes that are too small or they will get hot. _Don't_ use too long or too short a spark gap. The right length can be found by trying it out. _Don't_ fail to use a safety spark gap between the grid and the filament terminals where the plate potential is above 2,000 volts. _Don't_ buy a motor-generator set if you have commercial alternating current in your home. _Don't_ overload an oscillation vacuum tube as it will greatly shorten its life. Use two in parallel. _Don't_ operate a transmitting set without a hot-wire ammeter in the aerial. _Don't_ use solid wire for connecting up the parts of transmitters. Use stranded or braided wire. _Don't_ fail to solder each connection. _Don't_ use soldering fluid, use rosin. _Don't_ think that all of the energy of an oscillation tube cannot be used for wave lengths of 200 meters and under. It can be if the transmitting set and aerial are properly designed. _Don't_ run the wires of oscillation circuits too close together. _Don't_ cross the wires of oscillation circuits except at right angles. _Don't_ set the transformer of a transmitting set nearer than 3 feet to the condenser and tuning coil. _Don't_ use a rotary gap in which the wheel runs out of true. RECEIVING DON'TS _Don't_ expect to get as good results with a crystal detector as with a vacuum tube detector. _Don't_ be discouraged if you fail to hit the sensitive spot of a crystal detector the first time--or several times thereafter. _Don't_ use a wire larger than _No. 80_ for the wire electrode of a crystal detector. _Don't_ try to use a loud speaker with a crystal detector receiving set. _Don't_ expect a loop aerial to give worthwhile results with a crystal detector. _Don't_ handle crystals with your fingers as this destroys their sensitivity. Use tweezers or a cloth. _Don't_ imbed the crystal in solder as the heat destroys its sensitivity. Use _Wood's metal,_ or some other alloy which melts at or near the temperature of boiling water. _Don't_ forget that strong static and strong signals sometimes destroy the sensitivity of crystals. _Don't_ heat the filament of a vacuum tube to greater brilliancy than is necessary to secure the sensitiveness required. _Don't_ use a plate voltage that is less or more than it is rated for. _Don't_ connect the filament to a lighting circuit. _Don't_ use dry cells for heating the filament except in a pinch. _Don't_ use a constant current to heat the filament, use a constant voltage. _Don't_ use a vacuum tube in a horizontal position unless it is made to be so used. _Don't_ fail to properly insulate the grid and plate leads. _Don't_ use more than 1/3 of the rated voltage on the filament and on the plate when trying it out for the first time. _Don't_ fail to use alternating current for heating the filament where this is possible. _Don't_ fail to use a voltmeter to find the proper temperature of the filament. _Don't_ expect to get results with a loud speaker when using a single vacuum tube. _Don't_ fail to protect your vacuum tubes from mechanical shocks and vibration. _Don't_ fail to cut off the A battery entirely from the filament when you are through receiving. _Don't_ switch on the A battery current all at once through the filament when you start to receive. _Don't_ expect to get the best results with a gas-content detector tube without using a potentiometer. _Don't_ connect a potentiometer across the B battery or it will speedily run down. _Don't_ expect to get as good results with a single coil tuner as you would with a loose coupler. _Don't_ expect to get as good results with a two-coil tuner as with one having a third, or _tickler_, coil. _Don't_ think you have to use a regenerative circuit, that is, one with a tickler coil, to receive with a vacuum tube detector. _Don't_ think you are the only amateur who is troubled with static. _Don't_ expect to eliminate interference if the amateurs around you are sending with spark sets. _Don't_ lay out or assemble your set on a panel first. Connect it up on a board and find out if everything is right. _Don't_ try to connect up your set without a wiring diagram in front of you. _Don't_ fail to shield radio frequency amplifiers. _Don't_ set the axes of the cores of radio frequency transformers in a line. Set them at right angles to each other. _Don't_ use wire smaller than _No. 14_ for connecting up the various parts. _Don't_ fail to adjust the B battery after putting in a fresh vacuum tube, as its sensitivity depends largely on the voltage. _Don't_ fail to properly space the parts where you use variometers. _Don't_ fail to put a copper shield between the variometer and the variocoupler. _Don't_ fail to keep the leads to the vacuum tube as short as possible. _Don't_ throw your receiving set out of the window if it _howls_. Try placing the audio-frequency transformers farther apart and the cores of them at right angles to each other. _Don't_ use condensers with paper dielectrics for an amplifier receiving set or it will be noisy. _Don't_ expect as good results with a loop aerial, or when using the bed springs, as an out-door aerial will give you. _Don't_ use an amplifier having a plate potential of less than 100 volts for the last step where a loud speaker is to be used. _Don't_ try to assemble a set if you don't know the difference between a binding post and a blue print. Buy a set ready to use. _Don't_ expect to get Arlington time signals and the big cableless stations if your receiver is made for short wave lengths. _Don't_ take your headphones apart. You are just as apt to spoil them as you would a watch. _Don't_ expect to get results with a Bell telephone receiver. _Don't_ forget that there are other operators using the ether besides yourself. _Don't_ let your B battery get damp and don't let it freeze. _Don't_ try to recharge your B battery unless it is constructed for the purpose. STORAGE BATTERY DON'TS _Don't_ connect a source of alternating current direct to your storage battery. You have to use a rectifier. _Don't_ connect the positive lead of the charging circuit with the negative terminal of your storage battery. _Don't_ let the electrolyte get lower than the tops of the plates of your storage battery. _Don't_ fail to look after the condition of your storage battery once in a while. _Don't_ buy a storage battery that gives less than 6 volts for heating the filament. _Don't_ fail to keep the specific gravity of the electrolyte of your storage battery between 1.225 and 1.300 Baume. This you can do with a hydrometer. _Don't_ fail to recharge your storage battery when the hydrometer shows that the specific gravity of the electrolyte is close to 1.225. _Don't_ keep charging the battery after the hydrometer shows that the specific gravity is 1.285. _Don't_ let the storage battery freeze. _Don't_ let it stand for longer than a month without using unless you charge it. _Don't_ monkey with the storage battery except to add a little sulphuric acid to the electrolyte from time to time. If anything goes wrong with it better take it to a service station and let the expert do it. EXTRA DON'TS _Don't_ think you have an up-to-date transmitting station unless you are using C.W. _Don't_ use a wire from your lightning switch down to the outside ground that is smaller than No. _4_. _Don't_ try to operate your spark coil with 110-volt direct lighting current without connecting in a rheostat. _Don't_ try to operate your spark coil with 110-volt alternating lighting current without connecting in an electrolytic interrupter. _Don't_ try to operate an alternating current power transformer with 110-volt direct current without connecting in an electrolytic interruptor. _Don't_--no never--connect one side of the spark gap to the aerial wire and the other side of the spark gap to the ground. The Government won't have it--that's all. _Don't_ try to tune your transmitter to send out waves of given length by guesswork. Use a wavemeter. _Don't_ use _hard fiber_ for panels. It is a very poor insulator where high frequency currents are used. _Don't_ think you are the only one who doesn't know all about wireless. Wireless is a very complex art and there are many things that those experienced have still to learn. THE END. 
6935	----	[Transcriber's Note: The illustrations have been included with the eBook version of this work. The image files have been named in a straightforward manner that corresponds to the numbering in the text; thus, Illustration 7 is included as file "fig007.png", while Illustration (A) 22 is included as file "fig022a.png".] THE RADIO AMATEUR'S HAND BOOK [Illustration: A. Frederick Collins, Inventor of the Wireless Telephone, 1899. Awarded Gold Medal for same, Alaska Yukon Pacific Exposition, 1909.] THE RADIO AMATEUR'S HAND BOOK A Complete, Authentic and Informative Work on Wireless Telegraphy and Telephony BY A. FREDERICK COLLINS Inventor of the Wireless Telephone 1899; Historian of Wireless 1901-1910; Author of "Wireless Telegraphy" 1905 1922 TO WILLIAM MARCONI INVENTOR OF THE WIRELESS TELEGRAPH INTRODUCTION Before delving into the mysteries of receiving and sending messages without wires, a word as to the history of the art and its present day applications may be of service. While popular interest in the subject has gone forward by leaps and bounds within the last two or three years, it has been a matter of scientific experiment for more than a quarter of a century. The wireless telegraph was invented by William Marconi, at Bologna, Italy, in 1896, and in his first experiments he sent dot and dash signals to a distance of 200 or 300 feet. The wireless telephone was invented by the author of this book at Narberth, Penn., in 1899, and in his first experiments the human voice was transmitted to a distance of three blocks. The first vital experiments that led up to the invention of the wireless telegraph were made by Heinrich Hertz, of Germany, in 1888 when he showed that the spark of an induction coil set up electric oscillations in an open circuit, and that the energy of these waves was, in turn, sent out in the form of electric waves. He also showed how they could be received at a distance by means of a ring detector, which he called a _resonator_ In 1890, Edward Branly, of France, showed that metal filings in a tube cohered when electric waves acted on them, and this device he termed a _radio conductor_; this was improved upon by Sir Oliver Lodge, who called it a coherer. In 1895, Alexander Popoff, of Russia, constructed a receiving set for the study of atmospheric electricity, and this arrangement was the earliest on record of the use of a detector connected with an aerial and the earth. Marconi was the first to connect an aerial to one side of a spark gap and a ground to the other side of it. He used an induction coil to energize the spark gap, and a telegraph key in the primary circuit to break up the current into signals. Adding a Morse register, which printed the dot and dash messages on a tape, to the Popoff receptor he produced the first system for sending and receiving wireless telegraph messages. [Illustration: Collins' Wireless Telephone Exhibited at the Madison Square Garden, October 1908.] After Marconi had shown the world how to telegraph without connecting wires it would seem, on first thought, to be an easy matter to telephone without wires, but not so, for the electric spark sets up damped and periodic oscillations and these cannot be used for transmitting speech. Instead, the oscillations must be of constant amplitude and continuous. That a direct current arc light transforms a part of its energy into electric oscillations was shown by Firth and Rogers, of England, in 1893. The author was the first to connect an arc lamp with an aerial and a ground, and to use a microphone transmitter to modulate the sustained oscillations so set up. The receiving apparatus consisted of a variable contact, known as a _pill-box_ detector, which Sir Oliver Lodge had devised, and to this was connected an Ericsson telephone receiver, then the most sensitive made. A later improvement for setting up sustained oscillations was the author's _rotating oscillation arc_. Since those memorable days of more than two decades ago, wonderful advances have been made in both of these methods of transmitting intelligence, and the end is as yet nowhere in sight. Twelve or fifteen years ago the boys began to get fun out of listening-in to what the ship and shore stations were sending and, further, they began to do a little sending on their own account. These youngsters, who caused the professional operators many a pang, were the first wireless amateurs, and among them experts were developed who are foremost in the practice of the art today. Away back there, the spark coil and the arc lamp were the only known means for setting up oscillations at the sending end, while the electrolytic and crystal detectors were the only available means for the amateur to receive them. As it was next to impossible for a boy to get a current having a high enough voltage for operating an oscillation arc lamp, wireless telephony was out of the question for him, so he had to stick to the spark coil transmitter which needed only a battery current to energize it, and this, of course, limited him to sending Morse signals. As the electrolytic detector was cumbersome and required a liquid, the crystal detector which came into being shortly after was just as sensitive and soon displaced the former, even as this had displaced the coherer. A few years ahead of these amateurs, that is to say in 1905, J. A. Fleming, of England, invented the vacuum tube detector, but ten more years elapsed before it was perfected to a point where it could compete with the crystal detector. Then its use became general and workers everywhere sought to, and did improve it. Further, they found that the vacuum tube would not only act as a detector, but that if energized by a direct current of high voltage it would set up sustained oscillations like the arc lamp, and the value of sustained oscillations for wireless telegraphy as well as wireless telephony had already been discovered. The fact that the vacuum tube oscillator requires no adjustment of its elements, that its initial cost is much less than the oscillation arc, besides other considerations, is the reason that it popularized wireless telephony; and because continuous waves have many advantages over periodic oscillations is the reason the vacuum tube oscillator is replacing the spark coil as a wireless telegraph transmitter. Moreover, by using a number of large tubes in parallel, powerful oscillations can be set up and, hence, the waves sent out are radiated to enormous distances. While oscillator tubes were being experimented with in the research laboratories of the General Electric, the Westinghouse, the Radio Corporation of America, and other big companies, all the youthful amateurs in the country had learned that by using a vacuum tube as a detector they could easily get messages 500 miles away. The use of these tubes as amplifiers also made it possible to employ a loud speaker, so that a room, a hall, or an out-of-door audience could hear clearly and distinctly everything that was being sent out. The boy amateur had only to let father or mother listen-in, and they were duly impressed when he told them they were getting it from KDKA (the Pittsburgh station of the Westinghouse Co.), for was not Pittsburgh 500 miles away! And so they, too, became enthusiastic wireless amateurs. This new interest of the grown-ups was at once met not only by the manufacturers of apparatus with complete receiving and sending sets, but also by the big companies which began broadcasting regular programs consisting of music and talks on all sorts of interesting subjects. This is the wireless, or radio, as the average amateur knows it today. But it is by no means the limit of its possibilities. On the contrary, we are just beginning to realize what it may mean to the human race. The Government is now utilizing it to send out weather, crop and market reports. Foreign trade conditions are being reported. The Naval Observatory at Arlington is wirelessing time signals. Department stores are beginning to issue programs and advertise by radio! Cities are also taking up such programs, and they will doubtless be included soon among the regular privileges of the tax-payers. Politicians address their constituents. Preachers reach the stay-at-homes. Great singers thrill thousands instead of hundreds. Soon it will be possible to hear the finest musical programs, entertainers, and orators, without budging from one's easy chair. In the World War wireless proved of inestimable value. Airplanes, instead of flying aimlessly, kept in constant touch with headquarters. Bodies of troops moved alertly and intelligently. Ships at sea talked freely, over hundreds of miles. Scouts reported. Everywhere its invisible aid was invoked. In time of peace, however, it has proved and will prove the greatest servant of mankind. Wireless messages now go daily from continent to continent, and soon will go around the world with the same facility. Ships in distress at sea can summon aid. Vessels everywhere get the day's news, even to baseball scores. Daily new tasks are being assigned this tireless, wireless messenger. Messages have been sent and received by moving trains, the Lackawanna and the Rock Island railroads being pioneers in this field. Messages have also been received by automobiles, and one inventor has successfully demonstrated a motor car controlled entirely by wireless. This method of communication is being employed more and more by newspapers. It is also of great service in reporting forest fires. Colleges are beginning to take up the subject, some of the first being Tufts College, Hunter College, Princeton, Yale, Harvard, and Columbia, which have regularly organized departments for students in wireless. Instead of the unwieldy and formidable looking apparatus of a short time ago, experimenters are now vying with each other in making small or novel equipment. Portable sets of all sorts are being fashioned, from one which will go into an ordinary suitcase, to one so small it will easily slip into a Brownie camera. One receiver depicted in a newspaper was one inch square! Another was a ring for the finger, with a setting one inch by five-eighths of an inch, and an umbrella as a "ground." Walking sets with receivers fastened to one's belt are also common. Daily new novelties and marvels are announced. Meanwhile, the radio amateur to whom this book is addressed may have his share in the joys of wireless. To get all of these good things out of the ether one does not need a rod or a gun--only a copper wire made fast at either end and a receiving set of some kind. If you are a sheer beginner, then you must be very careful in buying your apparatus, for since the great wave of popularity has washed wireless into the hearts of the people, numerous companies have sprung up and some of these are selling the veriest kinds of junk. And how, you may ask, are you going to be able to know the good from the indifferent and bad sets? By buying a make of a firm with an established reputation. I have given a few offhand at the end of this book. Obviously there are many others of merit--so many, indeed, that it would be quite impossible to get them all in such a list, but these will serve as a guide until you can choose intelligently for yourself. A. F. C. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. HOW TO BEGIN WIRELESS Kinds of Wireless Systems--Parts of a Wireless System--The Easiest Way to Start--About Aerial Wire Systems--About the Receiving Apparatus--About Transmitting Stations--Kinds of Transmitters--The Spark Gap Wireless Telegraph Transmitter--The Vacuum Table Telegraph Transmitter--The Wireless Telephone Transmitter. II. PUTTING UP YOUR AERIAL Kinds of Aerial Wire Systems--How to Put Up a Cheap Receiving Aerial--A Two-wire Aerial--Connecting in the Ground--How to Put up a Good Aerial--An Inexpensive Good Aerial--The Best Aerial That Can be Made--Assembling the Aerial--Making a Good Ground. III. SIMPLE TELEGRAPH AND TELEPHONE RECEIVING SETS Assembled Wireless Receiving Sets--Assembling Your Own Receiving Set--The Crystal Detector--The Tuning Coil--The Loose Coupled Tuning Coil--Fixed and Variable Condensers--About Telephone Receivers-- Connecting Up the Parts--Receiving Set No. 2--Adjusting the No. 1 Set--The Tuning Coil--Adjusting the No. 2 Set. IV. SIMPLE TELEGRAPH SENDING SETS A Cheap Transmitting Set (No. 1)--The Spark Coil--The Battery--The Telegraph Key--The Spark Gap--The Tuning Coil--The High-tension Condenser--A Better Transmitting Set (No. 2)--The Alternating Current Transformer--The Wireless Key--The Spark Gap--The High-tension Condenser--The Oscillation Transformer--Connecting Up the Apparatus--For Direct Current--How to Adjust Your Transmitter. Turning With a Hot Wire Ammeter--To Send Out a 200-meter Wave Length--The Use of the Aerial Switch--Aerial Switch for a Complete Sending and Receiving Set--Connecting in the Lightning Switch. V. ELECTRICITY SIMPLY EXPLAINED Electricity at Rest and in Motion--The Electric Current and its Circuit--Current and the Ampere--Resistance and the Ohm--What Ohm's Law Is--What the Watt and Kilowatt Are--Electromagnetic Induction--Mutual Induction--High-frequency Currents--Constants of an Oscillation Circuit--What Capacitance Is--What Inductance Is--What Resistance Is--The Effect of Capacitance. VI. HOW THE TRANSMITTING AND RECEIVING SETS WORK How Transmitting Set No. 1 Works--The Battery and Spark Coil Circuit--Changing the Primary Spark Coil Current Into Secondary Currents--What Ratio of Transformation Means--The Secondary Spark Coil Circuit--The Closed Oscillation Circuit--How Transmitting Set No. 2 Works-With Alternating Current--With Direct Current--The Rotary Spark Gap--The Quenched Spark Gap--The Oscillation Transformer--How Receiving Set No. 1 Works--How Receiving Set No. 2 Works. VII. MECHANICAL AND ELECTRICAL TUNING Damped and Sustained Mechanical Vibrations--Damped and Sustained Oscillations--About Mechanical Tuning--About Electric Tuning. VIII. A SIMPLE VACUUM TUBE DETECTOR RECEIVING SET Assembled Vacuum Tube Receiving Set--A Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set--The Vacuum Tube Detector--Three Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector--The Dry Cell and Storage Batteries--The Filament Rheostat--Assembling the Parts--Connecting Up the Parts--Adjusting the Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set. IX. VACUUM TUBE AMPLIFIER RECEIVING SETS A Grid Leak Amplifier Receiving Set. With Crystal Detector--The Fixed Resistance Unit, or Grid Leak--Assembling the Parts for a Crystal Detector Set--Connecting up the Parts for a Crystal Detector--A Grid Leak Amplifying Receiving Set With Vacuum Tube Detector--A Radio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set--An Audio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set--A Six Step Amplifier Receiving Set with a Loop Aerial--How to Prevent Howling. X. REGENERATIVE AMPLIFICATION RECEIVING SETS The Simplest Type of Regenerative Receiving Set--With Loose Coupled Tuning Coil--Connecting Up the Parts--An Efficient Regenerative Receiving Set. With Three Coil Loose Coupler--The A Battery Potentiometer--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up--A Regenerative Audio Frequency Amplifier--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up. XI. SHORT WAVE REGENERATIVE RECEIVING SETS A Short Wave Regenerative Receiver, with One Variometer and Three Variable Condensers--The Variocoupler--The Variometer--Connecting Up the Parts--Short Wave Regenerative Receiver with Two Variometers and Two Variable Condensers--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up. XII. INTERMEDIATE AND LONG WAVE REGENERATIVE RECEIVING SETS Intermediate Wave Receiving Sets--Intermediate Wave Set With Loading Coils--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up--An Intermediate Wave Set with Variocoupler Inductance Coils--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up--A Long Wave Receiving Set--The Parts and How to Connect Them Up. XIII. HETERODYNE OR BEAT LONG WAVE TELEGRAPH RECEIVING SET What the Heterodyne or Beat Method Is--The Autodyne or Self-heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set--The Parts and Connections of an Autodyne or Self-heterodyne, Receiving Set--The Separate Heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set--The Parts and Connections of a Separate Heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set. XIV. HEADPHONES AND LOUD SPEAKERS Wireless Headphones--How a Bell Telephone Receiver is Made--How a Wireless Headphone is Made--About Resistance, Turns of Wire and Sensitivity of Headphones--The Impedance of Headphones--How the Headphones Work--About Loud Speakers--The Simplest Type of Loud Speaker--Another Simple Kind of Loud Speaker--A Third Kind of Simple Loud Speaker--A Super Loud Speaker. XV. OPERATION OF VACUUM TUBE RECEPTORS What is Meant by Ionization--How Electrons are Separated from Atoms--Action of the Two Electrode Vacuum Tube--How the Two Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector--How the Three Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector--How the Vacuum Tube Acts as an Amplifier--The Operation of a Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set--Operation of a Regenerative Vacuum Tube Receiving Set--Operation of Autodyne and Heterodyne Receiving Sets--The Autodyne, or Self-Heterodyne Receiving Set--The Separate Heterodyne Receiving Set. XVI. CONTINUOUS WAVE TELEGRAPH TRANSMITTING SETS WITH DIRECT CURRENT Sources of Current for Telegraph Transmitting Sets--An Experimental Continuous Wave Telegraph Transmitter--The Apparatus You Need--The Tuning Coil--The Condensers--The Aerial Ammeter--The Buzzer and Dry Cell--The Telegraph Key--The Vacuum Tube Oscillator--The Storage Battery--The Battery Rheostat--The Oscillation Choke Coil--Transmitter Connectors--The Panel Cutout--Connecting Up the Transmitting Apparatus--A 100-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter--The Apparatus You Need--The Tuning Coil--The Aerial Condenser--The Aerial Ammeter--The Grid and Blocking Condensers--The Key Circuit Apparatus--The 5 Watt Oscillator Vacuum Tube--The Storage Battery and Rheostat--The Filament Voltmeter--The Oscillation Choke Coil--The Motor-generator Set--The Panel Cut-out--The Protective Condenser--Connecting Up the Transmitting Apparatus--A 200-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter--A 500-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter--The Apparatus and Connections-- The 50-watt Vacuum Tube Oscillator--The Aerial Ammeter--The Grid Leak Resistance--The Oscillation Choke Coil--The Filament Rheostat--The Filament Storage Battery--The Protective Condenser--The Motor-generator--A 1000-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter. XVII. CONTINUOUS WAVE TELEGRAPH TRANSMITTING SETS WITH ALTERNATING CURRENT A 100-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set--The Apparatus Required--The Choke Coils--The Milli-ammeter--The A. C. Power Transformer--Connecting Up the Apparatus--A 200- to 500-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set-A 500- to 1000-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set--The Apparatus Required--The Alternating Current Power Transformer-Connecting Up the Apparatus. XVIII. WIRELESS TELEPHONE TRANSMITTING SETS WITH DIRECT AND ALTERNATING CURRENTS A Short Distance Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 110-volt Direct Lighting Current--The Apparatus You Need--The Microphone Transmitter--Connecting Up the Apparatus--A 25- to 50-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator--The Apparatus You Need--The Telephone Induction Coil--The Microphone Transformer--The Magnetic Modulator--How the Apparatus is Connected Up--A 50- to 100-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator--The Oscillation Choke Coil--The Plate and Grid Circuit Reactance Coils--Connecting up the Apparatus--A 100- to 200-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator--A 50- to 100-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 100-volt Alternating Current--The Apparatus You Need--The Vacuum Tube Rectifier--The Filter Condensers--The Filter Reactance Coil-- Connecting Up the Apparatus--A 100- to 200-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 110-volt Alternating Current--Apparatus Required. XIX. THE OPERATION OF VACUUM TUBE TRANSMITTERS The Operation of the Vacuum Tube Oscillator--The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Direct Current--Short Distance C. W. Transmitter--The Operation of the Key Circuit--The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitting with Direct Current--The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Alternating Current--With a Single Oscillator Tube--Heating the Filament with Alternating Current--The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Alternating Current-- With Two Oscillator Tubes--The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Direct Current--Short Distance Transmitter--The Microphone Transmitter--The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Direct Current--Long Distance Transmitters--The Operation of Microphone Modulators--The Induction Coil--The Microphone Transformer--The Magnetic Modulator--Operation of the Vacuum Tube as a Modulator--The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Alternating Current--The Operation of Rectifier Vacuum Tubes--The Operation of Reactors and Condensers. XX. HOW TO MAKE A RECEIVING SET FOR $5.00 OR LESS. The Crystal Detector--The Tuning Coil--The Headphone--How to Mount the Parts--The Condenser--How to Connect Up the Receptor. APPENDIX Useful Information--Glossary--Wireless Don'ts. LIST OF FIGURES Fig. 1.--Simple Receiving Set Fig. 2.--Simple Transmitting Set (A) Fig. 3.--Flat Top, or Horizontal Aerial (B) Fig. 3.--Inclined Aerial (A) Fig. 4.--Inverted L Aerial (B) Fig. 4--T Aerial Fig. 5.--Material for a Simple Aerial Wire System (A) Fig. 6.--Single Wire Aerial for Receiving (B) Fig. 6.--Receiving Aerial with Spark Gap Lightning Arrester (C) Fig. 6.--Aerial with Lightning Switch Fig. 7.--Two-wire Aerial (A) Fig. 8.--Part of a Good Aerial (B) Fig. 8.--The Spreaders (A) Fig. 9.--The Middle Spreader (B) Fig. 9.--One End of Aerial Complete (C) Fig. 9.--The Leading in Spreader (A) Fig. 10.--Cross Section of Crystal Detector (B) Fig. 10.--The Crystal Detector Complete (A) Fig. 11.--Schematic Diagram of a Double Slide Tuning Coil (B) Fig. 11.--Double Slide Tuning Coil Complete (A) Fig. 12.--Schematic Diagram of a Loose Coupler (B) Fig. 12.--Loose Coupler Complete (A) Fig. 13.--How a Fixed Receiving Condenser is Built up (B) Fig. 13.--The Fixed Condenser Complete (C) and (D) Fig. 13.--Variable Rotary Condenser Fig. 14.--Pair of Wireless Headphones (A) Fig. 15.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Receiving Set No. 1 (B) Fig. 15.--Wiring Diagram for Receiving Set No. 1 (A) Fig. 16.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Receiving Set No. 2 (B) Fig. 16.--Wiring Diagram for Receiving Set No. 2 Fig. 17.--Adjusting the Receiving Set (A) and (B) Fig. 18.--Types of Spark Coils for Set No. 1 (C) Fig. 18.--Wiring Diagram of Spark Coil Fig. 19.--Other Parts for Transmitting Set No. 1 (A) Fig. 20.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Sending Set No. 1 (B) Fig. 20.--Wiring of Diagram for Sending Set No. 1 Fig. 21.--Parts for Transmitting Set No. 2 (A) Fig. 22.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Sending Set No. 2 (B) Fig. 22.--Wiring Diagram for Sending Set No. 2 Fig. 23.--Using a 110-volt Direct Current with an Alternating current Transformer Fig. 24.--Principle of the Hot Wire Ammeter Fig. 25.--Kinds of Aerial Switches Fig. 26.--Wiring Diagram for a Complete Sending and Receiving Set No. 1 Fig. 27.--Wiring Diagram for Complete Sending and Receiving Set No. 2 Fig. 28.--Water Analogue for Electric Pressure Fig. 29.--Water Analogues for Direct and Alternating Currents Fig. 30.--How the Ammeter and Voltmeter are Used Fig. 31.--Water Valve Analogue of Electric Resistance (A) and (B) Fig. 32.--How an Electric Current is Changed into Magnetic Lines of Force and These into an Electric Current (C) and (D) Fig. 32.--How an Electric Current Sets up a Magnetic Field Fig. 33.--The Effect of Resistance on the Discharge of an Electric Current Fig. 34.--Damped and Sustained Mechanical Vibrations Fig. 35.--Damped and Sustained Electric Oscillations Fig. 36.--Sound Wave and Electric Wave Tuned Senders and Receptors Fig. 37.--Two Electrode Vacuum Tube Detectors Fig. 38.--Three Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector and Battery Connections Fig. 39.--A and B Batteries for Vacuum Tube Detectors Fig. 40.--Rheostat for the A or Storage-battery Current (A) Fig. 41.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set (B) Fig. 41.--Wiring Diagram of a Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set Fig. 42.--Grid Leaks and How to Connect them Up Fig. 43.--Crystal Detector Receiving Set with Vacuum Tube Amplifier (Resistance Coupled) (A) Fig. 44.--Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set with One Step Amplifier (Resistance Coupled) (B) Fig. 44.--Wiring Diagram for Using One A or Storage Battery with an Amplifier and a Detector Tube (A) Fig. 45.--Wiring Diagram for Radio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set (B) Fig. 45.--Radio Frequency Transformer (A) Fig. 46.--Audio Frequency Transformer (B) Fig. 46.--Wiring Diagram for Audio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set. (With Vacuum Tube Detector and Two Step Amplifier Tubes) (A) Fig. 47.--Six Step Amplifier with Loop Aerial (B) Fig. 47.--Efficient Regenerative Receiving Set (With Three Coil Loose Coupler Tuner) Fig. 48.--Simple Regenerative Receiving Set (With Loose Coupler Tuner) (A) Fig. 49.--Diagram of Three Coil Loose Coupler (B) Fig. 49.--Three Coil Loose Coupler Tuner Fig. 50.--Honeycomb Inductance Coil Fig. 51.--The Use of the Potentiometer Fig. 52.--Regenerative Audio Frequency Amplifier Receiving Set Fig. 53.--How the Vario Coupler is Made and Works Fig. 54.--How the Variometer is Made and Works Fig. 55.--Short Wave Regenerative Receiving Set (One Variometer and Three Variable Condensers) Fig. 56.--Short Wave Regenerative Receiving Set (Two Variometer and Two Variable Condensers) Fig. 57.--Wiring Diagram Showing Fixed Loading Coils for Intermediate Wave Set Fig. 58.--Wiring Digram of Intermediate Wave Receptor with One Vario Coupler and 12 Section Bank-wound Inductance Coil Fig. 59.--Wiring Diagram Showing Long Wave Receptor with Vario Couplers and 8 Bank-wound Inductance Coils Fig. 60.--Wiring Diagram of Long Wave Autodyne, or Self-heterodyne Receptor (Compare with Fig. 77) Fig. 61.--Wiring Diagram of Long Wave Separate Heterodyne Receiving Set Fig. 62.--Cross Section of Bell Telephone Receiver Fig. 63.--Cross Section of Wireless Headphone Fig. 64.--The Wireless Headphone Fig. 65.--Arkay Loud Speaker Fig. 66.--Amplitone Loud Speaker Fig. 67.--Amplitron Loud Speaker Fig. 68.--Magnavox Loud Speaker Fig. 69.--Schematic Diagram of an Atom Fig. 70.--Action of Two-electrode Vacuum Tube (A) and (B) Fig. 71.--How a Two-electrode Tube Acts as Relay or a Detector (C) Fig. 71--Only the Positive Part of Oscillations Goes through the Tube (A) and (B) Fig. 72.--How the Positive and Negative Voltages of the Oscillations Act on the Electrons (C) Fig. 72.--How the Three-electrode Tube Acts as Detector and Amplifier (D) Fig. 72.--How the Oscillations Control the Flow of the Battery Current through the Tube Fig. 73.--How the Heterodyne Receptor Works Fig. 74.--Separate Heterodyne Oscillator (A) Fig. 75.--Apparatus for Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter. (B) Fig. 75.--Apparatus for Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter. Fig. 76.--Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter Fig. 77--Apparatus of 100-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter Fig. 78.--5- to 50-watt C. W. Telegraph Transmitter (with a Single Oscillation Tube) Fig. 79.--200-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter (with Two Tubes in Parallel) Fig. 80.--50-watt Oscillator Vacuum Tube Fig. 81.--Alternating Current Power Transformer (for C. W. Telegraphy and Wireless Telephony) Fig. 82.--Wiring Diagram for 200- to 500-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set. (With Alternating Current.) Fig. 83--Wiring Diagram for 500- to 1000-mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter Fig. 84.--Standard Microphone Transmitter Fig. 85.--Wiring Diagram of Short Distance Wireless Telephone Set. (Microphone in Aerial Wire.) Fig. 86.--Telephone Induction Coil (used with Microphone Transmitter). Fig. 87.--Microphone Transformer Used with Microphone Transmitter Fig. 88.--Magnetic Modulator Used with Microphone Transmitter (A) Fig. 89.--Wiring Diagram of 25--to 50-mile Wireless Telephone. (Microphone Modulator Shunted Around Grid-leak Condenser) (B) Fig. 89.--Microphone Modulator Connected in Aerial Wire Fig. 90.--Wiring Diagram of 50- to 100-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set Fig. 91.--Plate and Grid Circuit Reactor Fig. 92.--Filter Reactor for Smoothing Out Rectified Currents Fig. 93.--100- to 200-mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter (A) and (B) Fig. 94.--Operation of Vacuum Tube Oscillators (C) Fig. 94.--How a Direct Current Sets up Oscillations Fig. 95.--Positive Voltage Only Sets up Oscillations Fig. 96.--Rasco Baby Crystal Detector Fig. 97.--How the Tuning Coil is Made Fig. 98.--Mesco loop-ohm Head Set Fig. 99.--Schematic Layout of the $5.00 Receiving Set Fig. 100.--Wiring Diagram for the $5.00 Receiving Set LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A. Frederick Collins, Inventor of the Wireless Telephone, 1899. Awarded Gold Medal for same, Alaska Yukon Pacific Exposition, 1909 Collins' Wireless Telephone Exhibited at the Madison Square Garden, October, 1908 General Pershing "Listening-in" The World's Largest Radio Receiving Station. Owned by the Radio Corporation of America at Rocky Point near Port Jefferson, L. I. First Wireless College in the World, at Tufts College, Mass Alexander Graham Bell, Inventor of the Telephone, now an ardent Radio Enthusiast World's Largest Loud Speaker ever made. Installed in Lytle Park, Cincinnati, Ohio, to permit President Harding's Address at Point Pleasant, Ohio, during the Grant Centenary Celebration to be heard within a radius of one square United States Naval High Power Station, Arlington, Va. General view of Power Room. At the left can be seen the Control Switchboards, and overhead, the great 30 K.W. Arc Transmitter with Accessories The Transformer and Tuner of the World's Largest Radio Station. Owned by the Radio Corporation of America at Rocky Point near Port Jefferson, L. I. Broadcasting Government Reports by Wireless from Washington. This shows Mr. Gale at work with his set in the Post Office Department Wireless Receptor, the size of a Safety Match Box. A Youthful Genius in the person of Kenneth R. Hinman, who is only twelve years old, has made a Wireless Receiving Set that fits neatly into a Safety Match Box. With this Instrument and a Pair of Ordinary Receivers, he is able to catch not only Code Messages but the regular Broadcasting Programs from Stations Twenty and Thirty Miles Distant Wireless Set made into a Ring, designed by Alfred G. Rinehart, of Elizabeth, New Jersey. This little Receptor is a Practical Set; it will receive Messages, Concerts, etc., measures 1" by 5/8" by 7/8". An ordinary Umbrella is used as an Aerial CHAPTER I HOW TO BEGIN WIRELESS In writing this book it is taken for granted that you are: _first_, one of the several hundred thousand persons in the United States who are interested in wireless telegraphy and telephony; _second_, that you would like to install an apparatus in your home, and _third_, that it is all new to you. Now if you live in a city or town large enough to support an electrical supply store, there you will find the necessary apparatus on sale, and someone who can tell you what you want to know about it and how it works. If you live away from the marts and hives of industry you can send to various makers of wireless apparatus [Footnote: A list of makers of wireless apparatus will be found in the _Appendix_.] for their catalogues and price-lists and these will give you much useful information. But in either case it is the better plan for you to know before you start in to buy an outfit exactly what apparatus you need to produce the result you have in mind, and this you can gain in easy steps by reading this book. Kinds of Wireless Systems.--There are two distinct kinds of wireless systems and these are: the _wireless telegraph_ system, and the _wireless telephone_ system. The difference between the wireless telegraph and the wireless telephone is that the former transmits messages by means of a _telegraph key_, and the latter transmits conversation and music by means of a _microphone transmitter_. In other words, the same difference exists between them in this respect as between the Morse telegraph and the Bell telephone. Parts of a Wireless System.--Every complete wireless station, whether telegraph or telephone, consists of three chief separate and distinct parts and these are: (a) the _aerial wire system_, or _antenna_ as it is often called, (b) the _transmitter_, or _sender_, and (c) the _receiver_, or, more properly, the _receptor_. The aerial wire is precisely the same for either wireless telegraphy or wireless telephony. The transmitter of a wireless telegraph set generally uses a _spark gap_ for setting up the electric oscillations, while usually for wireless telephony a _vacuum tube_ is employed for this purpose. The receptor for wireless telegraphy and telephony is the same and may include either a _crystal detector_ or a _vacuum tube detector_, as will be explained presently. The Easiest Way to Start.--First of all you must obtain a government license to operate a sending set, but you do not need a license to put up and use a receiving set, though you are required by law to keep secret any messages which you may overhear. Since no license is needed for a receiving set the easiest way to break into the wireless game is to put up an aerial and hook up a receiving set to it; you can then listen-in and hear what is going on in the all-pervading ether around you, and you will soon find enough to make things highly entertaining. Nearly all the big wireless companies have great stations fitted with powerful telephone transmitters and at given hours of the day and night they send out songs by popular singers, dance music by jazz orchestras, fashion talks by and for the ladies, agricultural reports, government weather forecasts and other interesting features. Then by simply shifting the slide on your tuning coil you can often tune-in someone who is sending _Morse_, that is, messages in the dot and dash code, or, perhaps a friend who has a wireless telephone transmitter and is talking. Of course, if you want to _talk back_ you must have a wireless transmitter, either telegraphic or telephonic, and this is a much more expensive part of the apparatus than the receptor, both in its initial cost and in its operation. A wireless telegraph transmitter is less costly than a wireless telephone transmitter and it is a very good scheme for you to learn to send and receive telegraphic messages. At the present time, however, there are fifteen amateur receiving stations in the United States to every sending station, so you can see that the majority of wireless folks care more for listening in to the broadcasting of news and music than to sending out messages on their own account. The easiest way to begin wireless, then, is to put up an aerial and hook up a receiving set to it. About Aerial Wire Systems.--To the beginner who wants to install a wireless station the aerial wire system usually looms up as the biggest obstacle of all, and especially is this true if his house is without a flag pole, or other elevation from which the aerial wire can be conveniently suspended. If you live in the congested part of a big city where there are no yards and, particularly, if you live in a flat building or an apartment house, you will have to string your aerial wire on the roof, and to do this you should get the owner's, or agent's, permission. This is usually an easy thing to do where you only intend to receive messages, for one or two thin wires supported at either end of the building are all that are needed. If for any reason you cannot put your aerial on the roof then run a wire along the building outside of your apartment, and, finally, if this is not feasible, connect your receiver to a wire strung up in your room, or even to an iron or a brass bed, and you can still get the near-by stations. An important part of the aerial wire system is the _ground_, that is, your receiving set must not only be connected with the aerial wire, but with a wire that leads to and makes good contact with the moist earth of the ground. Where a house or a building is piped for gas, water or steam, it is easy to make a ground connection, for all you have to do is to fasten the wire to one of the pipes with a clamp. [Footnote: Pipes are often insulated from the ground, which makes them useless for this purpose.] Where the house is isolated then a lot of wires or a sheet of copper or of zinc must be buried in the ground at a sufficient depth to insure their being kept moist. About the Receiving Apparatus.--You can either buy the parts of the receiving apparatus separate and hook them up yourself, or you can buy the apparatus already assembled in a set which is, in the beginning, perhaps, the better way. The simplest receiving set consists of (1) a _detector_, (2) a _tuning coil_, and (3) a _telephone receiver_ and these three pieces of apparatus are, of course, connected together and are also connected to the aerial and ground as the diagram in Fig. 1 clearly shows. There are two chief kinds of detectors used at the present time and these are: (a) the _crystal detector_, and (b) the _vacuum tube detector_. The crystal detector is the cheapest and simplest, but it is not as sensitive as the vacuum tube detector and it requires frequent adjustment. A crystal detector can be used with or without a battery while the vacuum tube detector requires two small batteries. [Illustration: Fig. 1.--Simple Receiving Set.] A tuning coil of the simplest kind consists of a single layer of copper wire wound on a cylinder with an adjustable, or sliding, contact, but for sharp tuning you need a _loose coupled tuning coil_. Where a single coil tuner is used a _fixed_ condenser should be connected around the telephone receivers. Where a loose coupled tuner is employed you should have a variable condenser connected across the _closed oscillation circuit_ and a _fixed condenser_ across the telephone receivers. When listening-in to distant stations the energy of the received wireless waves is often so very feeble that in order to hear distinctly an _amplifier_ must be used. To amplify the incoming sounds a vacuum tube made like a detector is used and sometimes as many as half-a-dozen of these tubes are connected in the receiving circuit, or in _cascade_, as it is called, when the sounds are _amplified_, that is magnified, many hundreds of times. The telephone receiver of a receiving set is equally as important as the detector. A single receiver can be used but a pair of receivers connected with a head-band gives far better results. Then again the higher the resistance of the receivers the more sensitive they often are and those wound to as high a resistance as 3,200 ohms are made for use with the best sets. To make the incoming signals, conversation or music, audible to a room full of people instead of to just yourself you must use what is called a _loud speaker_. In its simplest form this consists of a metal cone like a megaphone to which is fitted a telephone receiver. About Transmitting Stations--Getting Your License.--If you are going to install a wireless sending apparatus, either telegraphic or telephonic, you will have to secure a government license for which no fee or charge of any kind is made. There are three classes of licenses issued to amateurs who want to operate transmitting stations and these are: (1) the _restricted amateur license_, (2) the _general amateur license_, and (3) the _special amateur license_. If you are going to set up a transmitter within five nautical miles of any naval wireless station then you will have to get a _restricted amateur license_ which limits the current you use to half a _kilowatt_ [Footnote: A _Kilowatt_ is 1,000 _watts_. There are 746 watts in a horsepower.] and the wave length you send out to 200 _meters_. Should you live outside of the five-mile range of a navy station then you can get a general amateur license and this permits you to use a current of 1 kilowatt, but you are likewise limited to a wave length of 200 meters. But if you can show that you are doing some special kind of wireless work and not using your sending station for the mere pleasure you are getting out of it you may be able to get a _special amateur license_ which gives you the right to send out wave lengths up to 375 meters. When you are ready to apply for your license write to the _Radio Inspector_ of whichever one of the following districts you live in: First District..............Boston, Mass. Second " ..............New York City Third " ..............Baltimore, Md. Fourth " ..............Norfolk, Va. Fifth " ..............New Orleans, La. Sixth " ............. San Francisco, Cal. Seventh " ............. Seattle, Wash. Eighth " ............. Detroit, Mich. Ninth " ..............Chicago, Ill. Kinds of Transmitters.--There are two general types of transmitters used for sending out wireless messages and these are: (1) _wireless telegraph_ transmitters, and (2) _wireless telephone_ transmitters. Telegraph transmitters may use either: (a) a _jump-spark_, (b) an _electric arc_, or (c) a _vacuum tube_ apparatus for sending out dot and dash messages, while telephone transmitters may use either, (a) an _electric arc_, or (b) a _vacuum tube_ for sending out vocal and musical sounds. Amateurs generally use a _jump-spark_ for sending wireless telegraph messages and the _vacuum tube_ for sending wireless telephone messages. The Spark Gap Wireless Telegraph Transmitter.--The simplest kind of a wireless telegraph transmitter consists of: (1) a _source of direct or alternating current_, (2) a _telegraph key_, (3) a _spark-coil_ or a _transformer_, (4) a _spark gap_, (5) an _adjustable condenser_ and (6) an _oscillation transformer_. Where _dry cells_ or a _storage battery_ must be used to supply the current for energizing the transmitter a spark-coil can be employed and these may be had in various sizes from a little fellow which gives 1/4-inch spark up to a larger one which gives a 6-inch spark. Where more energy is needed it is better practice to use a transformer and this can be worked on an alternating current of 110 volts, or if only a 110 volt direct current is available then an _electrolytic interrupter_ must be used to make and break the current. A simple transmitting set with an induction coil is shown in Fig. 2. [Illustration: Fig 2.--Simple Transmitting Set.] A wireless key is made like an ordinary telegraph key except that where large currents are to be used it is somewhat heavier and is provided with large silver contact points. Spark gaps for amateur work are usually of: (1) the _plain_ or _stationary type_, (2) the _rotating type_, and (3) the _quenched gap_ type. The plain spark-gap is more suitable for small spark-coil sets, and it is not so apt to break down the transformer and condenser of the larger sets as the rotary gap. The rotary gap on the other hand tends to prevent _arcing_ and so the break is quicker and there is less dragging of the spark. The quenched gap is more efficient than either the plain or rotary gap and moreover it is noiseless. Condensers for spark telegraph transmitters can be ordinary Leyden jars or glass plates coated with tin or copper foil and set into a frame, or they can be built up of mica and sheet metal embedded in an insulating composition. The glass plate condensers are the cheapest and will serve your purpose well, especially if they are immersed in oil. Tuning coils, sometimes called _transmitting inductances_ and _oscillation transformers_, are of various types. The simplest kind is a transmitting inductance which consists of 25 or 30 turns of copper wire wound on an insulating tube or frame. An oscillation transformer is a loose coupled tuning coil and it consists of a primary coil formed of a number of turns of copper wire wound on a fixed insulating support, and a secondary coil of about twice the number of turns of copper wire which is likewise fixed in an insulating support, but the coils are relatively movable. An _oscillation transformer_ (instead of a _tuning coil_), is required by government regulations unless _inductively coupled_. The Vacuum Tube Telegraph Transmitter.--This consists of: (1) a _source of direct or alternating current_, (2) a _telegraph key_, (3) a _vacuum tube oscillator_, (4) a _tuning coil_, and (5) a _condenser_. This kind of a transmitter sets up _sustained_ oscillations instead of _periodic_ oscillations which are produced by a spark gap set. The advantages of this kind of a system will be found explained in Chapter XVI. The Wireless Telephone Transmitter.--Because a jump-spark sets up _periodic oscillations_, that is, the oscillations are discontinuous, it cannot be used for wireless telephony. An electric arc or a vacuum tube sets up _sustained_ oscillations, that is, oscillations which are continuous. As it is far easier to keep the oscillations going with a vacuum tube than it is with an arc the former means has all but supplanted the latter for wireless telephone transmitters. The apparatus required and the connections used for wireless telephone sets will be described in later chapters. Useful Information.--It would be wise for the reader to turn to the Appendix, beginning with page 301 of this book, and familiarize himself with the information there set down in tabular and graphic form. For example, the first table gives abbreviations of electrical terms which are in general use in all works dealing with the subject. You will also find there brief definitions of electric and magnetic units, which it would be well to commit to memory; or, at least, to make so thoroughly your own that when any of these terms is mentioned, you will know instantly what is being talked about. CHAPTER II PUTTING UP YOUR AERIAL As inferred in the first chapter, an aerial for receiving does not have to be nearly as well made or put up as one for sending. But this does not mean that you can slipshod the construction and installation of it, for however simple it is, the job must be done right and in this case it is as easy to do it right as wrong. To send wireless telegraph and telephone messages to the greatest distances and to receive them as distinctly as possible from the greatest distances you must use for your aerial (1) copper or aluminum wire, (2) two or more wires, (3) have them the proper length, (4) have them as high in the air as you can, (5) have them well apart from each other, and (6) have them well insulated from their supports. If you live in a flat building or an apartment house you can string your aerial wires from one edge of the roof to the other and support them by wooden stays as high above it as may be convenient. Should you live in a detached house in the city you can usually get your next-door neighbor to let you fasten one end of the aerial to his house and this will give you a good stretch and a fairly high aerial. In the country you can stretch your wires between the house and barn or the windmill. From this you will see that no matter where you live you can nearly always find ways and means of putting up an aerial that will serve your needs without going to the expense of erecting a mast. Kinds of Aerial Wire Systems.--An amateur wireless aerial can be anywhere from 25 feet to 100 feet long and if you can get a stretch of the latter length and a height of from 30 to 75 feet you will have one with which you can receive a thousand miles or more and send out as much energy as the government will allow you to send. The kind of an aerial that gives the best results is one whose wire, or wires, are _horizontal_, that is, parallel with the earth under it as shown at A in Fig. 3. If only one end can be fixed to some elevated support then you can secure the other end to a post in the ground, but the slope of the aerial should not be more than 30 or 35 degrees from the horizontal at most as shown at B. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 3.--Flat top, or Horizontal Aerial.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 3.--Inclined Aerial.] The _leading-in wire_, that is, the wire that leads from and joins the aerial wire with your sending and receiving set, can be connected to the aerial anywhere it is most convenient to do so, but the best results are had when it is connected to one end as shown at A in Fig. 4, in which case it is called an _inverted L aerial_, or when it is connected to it at the middle as shown at B, when it is called a _T aerial_. The leading-in wire must be carefully insulated from the outside of the building and also where it passes through it to the inside. This is done by means of an insulating tube known as a _leading-in insulator_, or _bulkhead insulator_ as it is sometimes called. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 4.--Inverted L Aerial.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 4.--T Aerial.] As a protection against lightning burning out your instruments you can use either: (1) an _air-gap lightning arrester,_ (2) a _vacuum tube protector_, or (3) a _lightning switch_, which is better. Whichever of these devices is used it is connected in between the aerial and an outside ground wire so that a direct circuit to the earth will be provided at all times except when you are sending or receiving. So your aerial instead of being a menace really acts during an electrical storm like a lightning rod and it is therefore a real protection. The air-gap and vacuum tube lightning arresters are little devices that can be used only where you are going to receive, while the lightning switch must be used where you are going to send; indeed, in some localities the _Fire Underwriters_ require a large lightning switch to be used for receiving sets as well as sending sets. How to Put Up a Cheap Receiving Aerial.--The kind of an aerial wire system you put up will depend, chiefly, on two things, and these are: (1) your pocketbook, and (2) the place where you live. A Single Wire Aerial.--This is the simplest and cheapest kind of a receiving aerial that can be put up. The first thing to do is to find out the length of wire you need by measuring the span between the two points of support; then add a sufficient length for the leading-in wire and enough more to connect your receiving set with the radiator or water pipe. You can use any size of copper or aluminum wire that is not smaller than _No. 16 Brown and Sharpe gauge._ When you buy the wire get also the following material: (1) two _porcelain insulators_ as shown at A in Fig. 5; (2) three or four _porcelain knob insulators_, see B; (3) either (a) an _air gap lightning arrester,_ see C, or (b) a _lightning switch_ see D; (4) a _leading-in porcelain tube insulator,_ see E, and (5) a _ground clamp_, see F. [Illustration: Fig. 5.--Material for a Simple Aerial Wire System.] To make the aerial slip each end of the wire through a hole in each insulator and twist it fast; next cut off and slip two more pieces of wire through the other holes in the insulators and twist them fast and then secure these to the supports at the ends of the building. Take the piece you are going to use for the leading-in wire, twist it around the aerial wire and solder it there when it will look like A in Fig. 6. Now if you intend to use the _air gap lightning arrester_ fasten it to the wall of the building outside of your window, and bring the leading-in wire from the aerial to the top binding post of your arrester and keep it clear of everything as shown at B. If your aerial is on the roof and you have to bring the leading-in wire over the cornice or around a corner fix a porcelain knob insulator to the one or the other and fasten the wire to it. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 6.--Single Wire Aerial for Receiving.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 6.--Receiving Aerial with Air Gap Lightning Arrester.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 6.--Aerial with Lightning Switch.] Next bore a hole through the frame of the window at a point nearest your receiving set and push a porcelain tube 5/8 inch in diameter and 5 or 6 inches long, through it. Connect a length of wire to the top post of the arrester or just above it to the wire, run this through the leading-in insulator and connect it to the slider of your tuning coil. Screw the end of a piece of heavy copper wire to the lower post of the arrester and run it to the ground, on porcelain knobs if necessary, and solder it to an iron rod or pipe which you have driven into the earth. Finally connect the fixed terminal of your tuning coil with the water pipe or radiator inside of the house by means of the ground clamp as shown in the diagrammatic sketch at B in Fig. 6 and you are ready to tune in. If you want to use a lightning switch instead of the air-gap arrester then fasten it to the outside wall instead of the latter and screw the free end of the leading-in wire from the aerial to the middle post of it as shown at C in Fig. 6. Run a wire from the top post through the leading-in insulator and connect it with the slider of your tuning coil. Next screw one end of a length of heavy copper wire to the lower post of the aerial switch and run it to an iron pipe in the ground as described above in connection with the spark-gap lightning arrester; then connect the fixed terminal of your tuning coil with the radiator or water pipe and your aerial wire system will be complete as shown at C in Fig. 6. A Two-wire Aerial.--An aerial with two wires will give better results than a single wire and three wires are better than two, but you must keep them well apart. To put up a two-wire aerial get (1) enough _No. 16_, or preferably _No. 14_, solid or stranded copper or aluminum wire, (2) four porcelain insulators, see B in Fig. 5, and (3) two sticks about 1 inch thick, 3 inches wide and 3 or 4 feet long, for the _spreaders_, and bore 1/8-inch hole through each end of each one. Now twist the ends of the wires to the insulators and then cut off four pieces of wire about 6 feet long and run them through the holes in the wood spreaders. Finally twist the ends of each pair of short wires to the free ends of the insulators and then twist the free ends of the wires together. For the leading-in wire that goes to the lightning switch take two lengths of wire and twist one end of each one around the aerial wires and solder them there. Twist the short wire around the long wire and solder this joint also when the aerial will look like Fig. 7. Bring the free end of the leading-in wire down to the middle post of the lightning switch and fasten it there and connect up the receiver to it and the ground as described under the caption of _A Single Wire Aerial_. [Illustration: Fig. 7.--Two Wire Aerial.] Connecting in the Ground.--If there is a gas or water system or a steam-heating plant in your house you can make your ground connection by clamping a ground clamp to the nearest pipe as has been previously described. Connect a length of bare or insulated copper wire with it and bring this up to the table on which you have your receiving set. If there are no grounded pipes available then you will have to make a good ground which we shall describe presently and lead the ground wire from your receiving set out of the window and down to it. How to Put Up a Good Aerial.--While you can use the cheap aerial already described for a small spark-coil sending set you should have a better insulated one for a 1/2 or a 1 kilowatt transformer set. The cost for the materials for a good aerial is small and when properly made and well insulated it will give results that are all out of proportion to the cost of it. An Inexpensive Good Aerial.--A far better aerial, because it is more highly insulated, can be made by using _midget insulators_ instead of the porcelain insulators described under the caption of _A Single Wire Aerial_ and using a small _electrose leading-in insulator_ instead of the porcelain bushing. This makes a good sending aerial for small sets as well as a good receiving aerial. The Best Aerial that Can Be Made.--To make this aerial get the following material together: (1) enough _stranded or braided wire_ for three or four lengths of parallel wires, according to the number you want to use (2) six or eight _electrose ball insulators_, see B, Fig. 8; (3) two 5-inch or 10-inch _electrose strain insulators_, see C; (4) six or eight _S-hooks_, see D; one large _withe_ with one eye for middle of end spreader, see E; (6) two smaller _withes_ with one eye each for end spreader, see E; (7) two still smaller _withes_, with two eyes each for the ends of the end spreaders, see E (8) two _thimbles_, see F, for 1/4-inch wire cable; (9) six or eight _hard rubber tubes_ or _bushings_ as shown at G; and (10) two _end spreaders_, see H; one _middle spreader_, see I; and one _leading-in spreader_, see J. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 8--Part of a Good Aerial.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 8.--The Spreaders.] For this aerial any one of a number of kinds of wire can be used and among these are (a) _stranded copper wire;_ (b) _braided copper wire;_ (c) _stranded silicon bronze wire,_ and (d) _stranded phosphor bronze wire_. Stranded and braided copper wire is very flexible as it is formed of seven strands of fine wire twisted or braided together and it is very good for short and light aerials. Silicon bronze wire is stronger than copper wire and should be used where aerials are more than 100 feet long, while phosphor bronze wire is the strongest aerial wire made and is used for high grade aerials by the commercial companies and the Government for their high-power stations. The spreaders should be made of spruce, and should be 4 feet 10 inches long for a three-wire aerial and 7 feet 1 inch long for a four-wire aerial as the distance between the wires should be about 27 inches. The end spreaders can be turned cylindrically but it makes a better looking job if they taper from the middle to the ends. They should be 2-1/4 inches in diameter at the middle and 1-3/4 inches at the ends. The middle spreader can be cylindrical and 2 inches in diameter. It must have holes bored through it at equidistant points for the hard rubber tubes; each of these should be 5/8 inch in diameter and have a hole 5/32 inch in diameter through it for the aerial wire. The leading-in spreader is also made of spruce and is 1-1/2 inches square and 26 inches long. Bore three or four 5/8-inch holes at equidistant points through this spreader and insert hard rubber tubes in them as with the middle spreader. Assembling the Aerial.--Begin by measuring off the length of each wire to be used and see to it that all of them are of exactly the same length. Now push the hard rubber insulators through the holes in the middle spreader and thread the wires through the holes in the insulators as shown at A in Fig 9. Next twist the ends of each wire to the rings of the ball insulators and then put the large withes on the middle of each of the end spreaders; fix the other withes on the spreaders so that they will be 27 inches apart and fasten the ball insulators to the eyes in the withes with the S-hooks. Now slip a thimble through the eye of one of the long strain insulators, thread a length of stranded steel wire 1/4 inch in diameter through it and fasten the ends of it to the eyes in the withes on the ends of the spreaders. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 9.--Middle Spreader.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 9.--One End of Aerial Complete.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 9.--Leading in Spreader.] Finally fasten a 40-inch length of steel stranded wire to each of the eyes of the withes on the middle of each of the spreaders, loop the other end over the thimble and then wrap the end around the wires that are fixed to the ends of the spreaders. One end of the aerial is shown complete at B in Fig. 9, and from this you can see exactly how it is assembled. Now cut off three or four pieces of wire 15 or 20 feet long and twist and solder each one to one of the aerial wires; then slip them through the hard rubber tubes in the leading-in spreader, bring their free ends together as at C and twist and solder them to a length of wire long enough to reach to your lightning switch or instruments. Making a Good Ground.--Where you have to make a _ground_ you can do so either by (1) burying sheets of zinc or copper in the moist earth; (2) burying a number of wires in the moist earth, or (3) using a _counterpoise_. To make a ground of the first kind take half a dozen large sheets of copper or zinc, cut them into strips a foot wide, solder them all together with other strips and bury them deeply in the ground. It is easier to make a wire ground, say of as many or more wires as you have in your aerial and connect them together with cross wires. To put such a ground in the earth you will have to use a plow to make the furrows deep enough to insure them always being moist. In the counterpoise ground you make up a system of wires exactly like your aerial, that is, you insulate them just as carefully; then you support them so that they will be as close to the ground as possible and yet not touch it or anything else. This and the other two grounds just described should be placed directly under the aerial wire if the best results are to be had. In using a counterpoise you must bring the wire from it up to and through another leading-in insulator to your instruments. CHAPTER III SIMPLE TELEGRAPH AND TELEPHONE RECEIVING SETS With a crystal detector receiving set you can receive either telegraphic dots and dashes or telephonic speech and music. You can buy a receiving set already assembled or you can buy the different parts and assemble them yourself. An assembled set is less bother in the beginning but if you like to experiment you can _hook up_, that is, connect the separate parts together yourself and it is perhaps a little cheaper to do it this way. Then again, by so doing you get a lot of valuable experience in wireless work and an understanding of the workings of wireless that you cannot get in any other way. Assembled Wireless Receiving Sets.--The cheapest assembled receiving set [Footnote: The Marvel, made by the Radio Mfg. Co., New York City.] advertised is one in which the detector and tuning coil is mounted in a box. It costs $15.00, and can be bought of dealers in electric supplies generally. This price also includes a crystal detector, an adjustable tuning coil, a single telephone receiver with head-band and the wire, porcelain insulators, lightning switch and ground clamp for the aerial wire system. It will receive wireless telegraph and telephone messages over a range of from 10 to 25 miles. Another cheap unit receptor, that is, a complete wireless receiving set already mounted which can be used with a single aerial is sold for $25.00. [Footnote: The Aeriola Jr., made by the Westinghouse Company, Pittsburgh, Pa.] This set includes a crystal detector, a variable tuning coil, a fixed condenser and a pair of head telephone receivers. It can also be used to receive either telegraph or telephone messages from distances up to 25 miles. The aerial equipment is not included in this price, but it can be bought for about $2.50 extra. Assembling Your Own Receiving Set.--In this chapter we shall go only into the apparatus used for two simple receiving sets, both of which have a _crystal detector_. The first set includes a _double-slide tuning coil_ and the second set employs a _loose-coupled tuning coil_, or _loose coupler_, as it is called for short. For either set you can use a pair of 2,000- or 3,000-ohm head phones. [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. General Pershing Listening In.] The Crystal Detector.--A crystal detector consists of: (1) _the frame_, (2) _the crystal_, and (3) _the wire point_. There are any number of different designs for frames, the idea being to provide a device that will (a) hold the sensitive crystal firmly in place, and yet permit of its removal, (b) to permit the _wire point_, or _electrode_, to be moved in any direction so that the free point of it can make contact with the most sensitive spot on the crystal and (c) to vary the pressure of the wire on the crystal. A simple detector frame is shown in the cross-section at A in Fig. 10; the crystal, which may be _galena_, _silicon_ or _iron pyrites_, is held securely in a holder while the _phosphor-bronze wire point_ which makes contact with it, is fixed to one end of a threaded rod on the other end of which is a knob. This rod screws into and through a sleeve fixed to a ball that sets between two brass standards and this permits an up and down or a side to side adjustment of the metal point while the pressure of it on the crystal is regulated by the screw. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 10.--Cross Section of Crystal Detector.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 10.--The Crystal Detector Complete.] A crystal of this kind is often enclosed in a glass cylinder and this makes it retain its sensitiveness for a much longer time than if it were exposed to dust and moisture. An upright type of this detector can be bought for $2.25, while a horizontal type, as shown at B, can be bought for $2.75. Galena is the crystal that is generally used, for, while it is not quite as sensitive as silicon and iron pyrites, it is easier to obtain a sensitive piece. The Tuning Coil.--It is with the tuning coil that you _tune in_ and _tune out_ different stations and this you do by sliding the contacts to and fro over the turns of wire; in this way you vary the _inductance_ and _capacitance_, that is, the _constants_ of the receiving circuits and so make them receive _electric waves_, that is, wireless waves, of different lengths. The Double Slide Tuning Coil.--With this tuning coil you can receive waves from any station up to 1,000 meters in length. One of the ends of the coil of wire connects with the binding post marked _a_ in Fig. 11, and the other end connects with the other binding post marked _b_, while one of the sliding contacts is connected to the binding post _c_, and the _other sliding contact_ is connected with the binding post _d_. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 11.--Schematic Diagram of Double Slide Tuning Coil.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 11.--Double Slide Tuning Coil Complete.] When connecting in the tuning coil, only the post _a_ or the post _b_ is used as may be most convenient, but the other end of the wire which is connected to a post is left free; just bear this point in mind when you come to connect the tuning coil up with the other parts of your receiving set. The tuning coil is shown complete at B and it costs $3.00 or $4.00. A _triple slide_ tuning coil constructed like the double slide tuner just described, only with more turns of wire on it, makes it possible to receive wave lengths up to 1,500 meters. It costs about $6.00. The Loose Coupled Tuning Coil.--With a _loose coupler_, as this kind of a tuning coil is called for short, very _selective tuning_ is possible, which means that you can tune in a station very sharply, and it will receive any wave lengths according to size of coils. The primary coil is wound on a fixed cylinder and its inductance is varied by means of a sliding contact like the double slide tuning coil described above. The secondary coil is wound on a cylinder that slides in and out of the primary coil. The inductance of this coil is varied by means of a switch that makes contact with the fixed points, each of which is connected with every twentieth turn of wire as shown in the diagram A in Fig. 12. The loose coupler, which is shown complete at B, costs in the neighborhood of $8.00 or $10.00. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 12.--Schematic Diagram of Loose Coupler.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 12.--Loose Coupler Complete.] Fixed and Variable Condensers.--You do not require a condenser for a simple receiving set, but if you will connect a _fixed condenser_ across your headphones you will get better results, while a _variable condenser_ connected in the _closed circuit of a direct coupled receiving set_, that is, one where a double slide tuning coil is used, makes it easy to tune very much more sharply; a variable condenser is absolutely necessary where the circuits are _inductively coupled_, that is, where a loose coupled tuner is used. A fixed condenser consists of a number of sheets of paper with leaves of tin-foil in between them and so built up that one end of every other leaf of tin-foil projects from the opposite end of the paper as shown at A in Fig. 13. The paper and tin-foil are then pressed together and impregnated with an insulating compound. A fixed condenser of the exact capacitance required for connecting across the head phones is mounted in a base fitted with binding posts, as shown at B, and costs 75 cents. (Paper ones 25 cents.) [Illustration: (A) Fig. 13.--How a Fixed Receiving Condenser is Built up.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 13.--The Fixed Condenser Complete.] [Illustration: (C) and (D) Fig. 13.--The Variable Rotary Condenser.] A variable condenser, see C, of the rotating type is formed of a set of fixed semi-circular metal plates which are slightly separated from each other and between these a similar set of movable semi-circular metal plates is made to interleave; the latter are secured to a shaft on the top end of which is a knob and by turning it the capacitance of the condenser, and, hence, of the circuit in which it is connected, is varied. This condenser, which is shown at D, is made in two sizes, the smaller one being large enough for all ordinary wave lengths while the larger one is for proportionately longer wave lengths. These condensers cost $4.00 and $5.00 respectively. About Telephone Receivers.--There are a number of makes of head telephone receivers on the market that are designed especially for wireless work. These phones are wound to _resistances_ of from 75 _ohms_ to 8,000 _ohms_, and cost from $1.25 for a receiver without a cord or headband to $15.00 for a pair of phones with a cord and head band. You can get a receiver wound to any resistance in between the above values but for either of the simple receiving sets such as described in this chapter you ought to have a pair wound to at least 2,000 ohms and these will cost you about $5.00. A pair of head phones of this type is shown in Fig. 14. [Illustration: Fig. 14.--Pair of Wireless Head Phones.] Connecting Up the Parts--Receiving Set No. 1.--For this set get (1) a _crystal detector_, (2) a _two-slide tuning coil_, (3) a _fixed condenser_, and (4) a pair of 2,000 ohm head phones. Mount the detector on the right-hand side of a board and the tuning coil on the left-hand side. Screw in two binding posts for the cord ends of the telephone receivers at _a_ and _b_ as shown at A in Fig. 15. This done connect one of the end binding posts of the tuning coil with the ground wire and a post of one of the contact slides with the lightning arrester or switch which leads to the aerial wire. [Illustration: Fig. 15.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Receiving Set No. 1.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 15.--Wiring Diagram for Receiving Set No. 1.] Now connect the post of the other contact slide to one of the posts of the detector and the other post of the latter with the binding post _a_, then connect the binding post _b_ to the ground wire and solder the joint. Next connect the ends of the telephone receiver cord to the posts _a_ and _b_ and connect a fixed condenser also with these posts, all of which are shown in the wiring diagram at B, and you are ready to adjust the set for receiving. Receiving Set No. 2.--Use the same kind of a detector and pair of head phones as for _Set No. 1_, but get (1) a _loose coupled tuning coil_, and (2) a _variable condenser_. Mount the loose coupler at the back of a board on the left-hand side and the variable condenser on the right-hand side. Then mount the detector in front of the variable condenser and screw two binding posts, _a_ and _b_, in front of the tuning coil as shown at A in Fig. 16. [Illustration: Fig. 16.--Top view of Apparatus Layout for Receiving Set No. 2.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 16.--Wiring Diagram for Receiving Set No. 2.] Now connect the post of the sliding contact of the loose coupler with the wire that runs to the lightning switch and thence to the aerial; connect the post of the primary coil, which is the outside coil, with the ground wire; then connect the binding post leading to the switch of the secondary coil, which is the inside coil, with one of the posts of the variable condenser, and finally, connect the post that is joined to one end of the secondary coil with the other post of the variable condenser. This done, connect one of the posts of the condenser with one of the posts of the detector, the other post of the detector with the binding post _a_, and the post _b_ to the other post of the variable condenser. Next connect a fixed condenser to the binding posts _a_ and _b_ and then connect the telephone receivers to these same posts, all of which is shown in the wiring diagram at B. You are now ready to adjust the instruments. In making the connections use No. 16 or 18 insulated copper wire and scrape the ends clean where they go into the binding posts. See, also, that all of the connections are tight and where you have to cross the wires keep them apart by an inch or so and always cross them at right angles. Adjusting the No. 1 Set--The Detector.--The first thing to do is to test the detector in order to find out if the point of the contact wire is on a sensitive spot of the crystal. To do this you need a _buzzer_, a _switch_ and a _dry cell_. An electric bell from which the gong has been removed will do for the buzzer, but you can get one that is made specially for the purpose, for 75 cents, which gives out a clear, high-pitched note that sounds like a high-power station. Connect one of the binding posts of the buzzer with one post of the switch, the other post of the latter with the zinc post of the dry cell and the carbon post of this to the other post of the buzzer. Then connect the post of the buzzer that is joined to the vibrator, to the ground wire as shown in the wiring diagram, Fig. 17. Now close the switch of the buzzer circuit, put on your head phones, and move the wire point of the detector to various spots on the crystal until you hear the sparks made by the buzzer in your phones. [Illustration: Fig. 17.--Adjusting the Receiving Set.] Then vary the pressure of the point on the crystal until you hear the sparks as loud as possible. After you have made the adjustment open the switch and disconnect the buzzer wire from the ground wire of your set. This done, be very careful not to jar the detector or you will throw it out of adjustment and then you will have to do it all over again. You are now ready to tune the set with the tuning coil and listen in. The Tuning Coil.--To tune this set move the slide A of the double-slide tuner, see B in Fig. 15, over to the end of the coil that is connected with the ground wire and the slide B near the opposite end of the coil, that is, the one that has the free end. Now move the slide A toward the B slide and when you hear the dots and dashes, or speech or music, that is coming in as loud as you can move the B slide toward the A slide until you hear still more loudly. A very few trials on your part and you will be able to tune in or tune out any station you can hear, if not too close or powerful. [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. The World's Largest Radio Receiving Station. Owned by the Radio Corporation of America at Rocky Point near Point Jefferson, L.I.] Adjusting the No. 2 Set.--First adjust the crystal detector with the buzzer set as described above with _Set No. 1,_ then turn the knob of your variable condenser so that the movable plates are just half-way in, pull the secondary coil of your loose-coupled tuner half way out; turn the switch lever on it until it makes a contact with the middle contact point and set the slider of the primary coil half way between the ends. Now listen in for telegraphic signals or telephonic speech or music; when you hear one or the other slide the secondary coil in and out of the primary coil until the sounds are loudest; now move the contact switch over the points forth and back until the sounds are still louder, then move the slider to and fro until the sounds are yet louder and, finally, turn the knob of the condenser until the sounds are clear and crisp. When you have done all of these things you have, in the parlance of the wireless operator, _tuned in_ and you are ready to receive whatever is being sent. CHAPTER IV SIMPLE TELEGRAPH SENDING SETS A wireless telegraph transmitting set can be installed for a very small amount of money provided you are content with one that has a limited range. Larger and better instruments can, of course, be had for more money, but however much you are willing to spend still you are limited in your sending radius by the Government's rules and regulations. The best way, and the cheapest in the end, to install a telegraph set is to buy the separate parts and hook them up yourself. The usual type of wireless telegraph transmitter employs a _disruptive discharge,_ or _spark,_ as it is called, for setting up the oscillating currents in the aerial wire system and this is the type of apparatus described in this chapter. There are two ways to set up the sparks and these are: (1) with an _induction coil,_ or _spark-coil,_ as it is commonly called, and (2) with an _alternating current transformer_, or _power transformer_, as it is sometimes called. Where you have to generate the current with a battery you must use a spark coil, but if you have a 110-volt direct or alternating lighting current in your home you can use a transformer which will give you more power. A Cheap Transmitting Set (No. 1).--For this set you will need: (1) a _spark-coil_, (2) a _battery_ of dry cells, (3) a _telegraph key_, (4) a _spark gap_, (5) a _high-tension condenser_, and (6) an _oscillation transformer_. There are many different makes and styles of these parts but in the last analysis all of them are built on the same underlying bases and work on the same fundamental principles. The Spark-Coil.--Spark coils for wireless work are made to give sparks from 1/4 inch in length up to 6 inches in length, but as a spark coil that gives less than a 1-inch spark has a very limited output it is best to get a coil that gives at least a 1-inch spark, as this only costs about $8.00, and if you can get a 2- or a 4-inch spark coil so much the better. There are two general styles of spark coils used for wireless and these are shown at A and B in Fig. 18. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 18.--Types of Spark Coils for Set. No. 1.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 18.--Wiring Diagram of Spark Coil] A spark coil of either style consists of (_a_) a soft _iron core_ on which is wound (_b_) a couple of layers of heavy insulated wire and this is called the _primary coil_, (_c_) while over this, but insulated from it, is wound a large number of turns of very fine insulated copper wire called the _secondary coil_; (d) an _interrupter_, or _vibrator_, as it is commonly called, and, finally, (e) a _condenser_. The core, primary and secondary coils form a unit and these are set in a box or mounted on top of a hollow wooden base. The condenser is placed in the bottom of the box, or on the base, while the vibrator is mounted on one end of the box or on top of the base, and it is the only part of the coil that needs adjusting. The vibrator consists of a stiff, flat spring fixed at one end to the box or base while it carries a piece of soft iron called an _armature_ on its free end and this sets close to one end of the soft iron core. Insulated from this spring is a standard that carries an adjusting screw on the small end of which is a platinum point and this makes contact with a small platinum disk fixed to the spring. The condenser is formed of alternate sheets of paper and tinfoil built up in the same fashion as the receiving condenser described under the caption of _Fixed and Variable Condensers_, in Chapter III. The wiring diagram C shows how the spark coil is wired up. One of the battery binding posts is connected with one end of the primary coil while the other end of the latter which is wound on the soft iron core connects with the spring of the vibrator. The other battery binding post connects with the standard that supports the adjusting screw. The condenser is shunted across the vibrator, that is, one end of the condenser is connected with the spring and the other end of the condenser is connected with the adjusting screw standard. The ends of the secondary coil lead to two binding posts, which are usually placed on top of the spark coil and it is to these that the spark gap is connected. The Battery.--This can be formed of dry cells or you can use a storage battery to energize your coil. For all coils that give less than a 1-inch spark you should use 5 dry cells; for 1-and 2-inch spark coils use 6 or 8 dry cells, and for 3 to 4-inch spark coils use 8 to 10 dry cells. The way the dry cells are connected together to form a battery will be shown presently. A dry cell is shown at A in Fig, 19. [Illustration: Fig. 19.--Other parts for Transmitting Set No. 1] The Telegraph Key.--You can use an ordinary Morse telegraph key for the sending set and you can get one with a japanned iron base for $1.50 (or better, one made of brass and which has 1/8-inch silver contact points for $3.00. A key of the latter kind is shown at B). The Spark gap.--It is in the _spark gap_ that the high tension spark takes place. The apparatus in which the spark takes place is also called the _spark gap_. It consists of a pair of zinc plugs, called _electrodes_, fixed to the ends of a pair of threaded rods, with knobs on the other ends, and these screw into and through a pair of standards as shown at _c_. This is called a _fixed_, or _stationary spark gap_ and costs about $1.00. The Tuning Coil.--The _transmitting inductance_, or _sending tuning coil_, consists of 20 to 30 turns of _No. 8 or 9_ hard drawn copper wire wound on a slotted insulated form and mounted on a wooden base. It is provided with _clips_ so that you can cut in and cut out as many turns of wire as you wish and so tune the sending circuits to send out whatever wave length you desire. It is shown at _d_, and costs about $5.00. See also _Oscillation Transformer_, page 63 [Chapter IV]. The High Tension Condenser.--High tension condensers, that is, condensers which will stand up under _high potentials_, or electric pressures, can be bought in units or sections. These condensers are made up of thin brass plates insulated with a special compound and pressed into a compact form. The _capacitance_ [Footnote: This is the capacity of the condenser.] of one section is enough for a transmitting set using a spark coil that gives a 2 inch spark or less and two sections connected together should be used for coils giving from 2 to 4 inch sparks. It is shown at _e_. Connecting Up the Apparatus.--Your sending set should be mounted on a table, or a bench, where it need not be moved. Place the key in about the middle of the table and down in front, and the spark coil to the left and well to the back but so that the vibrator end will be to the right, as this will enable you to adjust it easily. Place the battery back of the spark coil and the tuning coil (oscillation transformer) to the right of the spark coil and back of the key, all of which is shown in the layout at A in Fig. 20. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 20.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Sending Set No. 1.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 20.--Wiring of Diagram for Sending Set No. 1.] For the _low voltage circuit_, that is the battery circuit, use _No. 12_ or _14_ insulated copper wire. Connect all of the dry cells together in _series_, that is, connect the zinc of one cell with the carbon of the next and so on until all of them are connected up. Then connect the carbon of the end cell with one of the posts of the key, the zinc of the other end cell with one of the primary posts of the spark coil and the other primary post of the spark coil with the other post of the key, when the primary circuit will be complete. For the _high tension circuits_, that is, the _oscillation circuits_, you may use either bare or insulated copper wire but you must be careful that they do not touch the table, each other, or any part of the apparatus, except, of course, the posts they are connected with. Connect one of the posts of the secondary coil of the spark coil with one of the posts of the spark gap, and the other post with one of the posts of the condenser; then connect the other post of the condenser with the lower spring clip of the tuning coil and also connect this clip with the ground. This done, connect the middle spring clip with one of the posts of the spark gap, and, finally, connect the top clip with the aerial wire and your transmitting set is ready to be tuned. A wiring diagram of the connections is shown at B. As this set is tuned in the same way as _Set No. 2_ which follows, you are referred to the end of this chapter. A Better Transmitting Set (No. 2).--The apparatus for this set includes: (1) an _alternating current transformer_, (2) a _wireless telegraph key_, (3) a _fixed_, a _rotary_, or a _quenched spark gap_, (4) a _condenser_, and (5) an _oscillation transformer_. If you have a 110 volt direct lighting current in your home instead of 110 volt alternating current, then you will also need (6) an _electrolytic interrupter_, for in this case the primary circuit of the transformer must be made and broken rapidly in order to set up alternating currents in the secondary coil. The Alternating Current Transformer.--An alternating current, or power, transformer is made on the same principle as a spark coil, that is, it has a soft iron core, a primary coil formed of a couple of layers of heavy wire, and a secondary coil wound up of a large number of turns of very fine wire. Unlike the spark coil, however, which has an _open magnetic core_ and whose secondary coil is wound on the primary coil, the transformer has a _closed magnetic core_, with the primary coil wound on one of the legs of the core and the secondary wound on the other leg. It has neither a vibrator nor a condenser. A plain transformer is shown at A in Fig. 21. [Illustration: Fig. 21.--Parts for Transmitting Set No. 2.] A transformer of this kind can be bought either (a) _unmounted_, that is, just the bare transformer, or (b) _fully mounted_, that is, fitted with an iron stand, mounted on an insulating base on which are a pair of primary binding posts, while the secondary is provided with a _safety spark gap_. There are three sizes of transformers of this kind made and they are rated at 1/4, 1/2 and 1 kilowatt, respectively, they deliver a secondary current of 9,000, 11,000 and 25,000 volts, according to size, and cost $16.00, $22.00 and $33.00 when fully mounted; a reduction of $3.00, $4.00 and $5.00 is made when they are unmounted. All of these transformers operate on 110 volt, 60 cycle current and can be connected directly to the source of alternating current. The Wireless Key.--For this transmitting set a standard wireless key should be used as shown at B. It is made about the same as a regular telegraph key but it is much heavier, the contact points are larger and instead of the current being led through the bearings as in an ordinary key, it is carried by heavy conductors directly to the contact points. This key is made in three sizes and the first will carry a current of 5 _amperes_[Footnote: See _Appendix_ for definition.] and costs $4.00, the second will carry a current of 10 amperes and costs $6.50, while the third will carry a current of 20 amperes and costs $7.50. The Spark Gap.--Either a fixed, a rotary, or a quenched spark gap can be used with this set, but the former is seldom used except with spark-coil sets, as it is very hard to keep the sparks from arcing when large currents are used. A rotary spark gap comprises a wheel, driven by a small electric motor, with projecting plugs, or electrodes, on it and a pair of stationary plugs on each side of the wheel as shown at C. The number of sparks per second can be varied by changing the speed of the wheel and when it is rotated rapidly it sends out signals of a high pitch which are easy to read at the receiving end. A rotary gap with a 110-volt motor costs about $25.00. A quenched spark gap not only eliminates the noise of the ordinary gap but, when properly designed, it increases the range of an induction coil set some 200 per cent. A 1/4 kilowatt quenched gap costs $10.00. [Footnote: See Appendix for definition.] The High Tension Condenser.--Since, if you are an amateur, you can only send out waves that are 200 meters in length, you can only use a condenser that has a capacitance of .007 _microfarad_. [Footnote: See Appendix for definition.] A sectional high tension condenser like the one described in connection with _Set No. 1_ can be used with this set but it must have a capacitance of not more than .007 microfarad. A condenser of this value for a 1/4-kilowatt transformer costs $7.00; for a 1/2-kilowatt transformer $14.00, and for a 1-kilowatt transformer $21.00. See E, Fig. 19. The Oscillation Transformer.--With an oscillation transformer you can tune much more sharply than with a single inductance coil tuner. The primary coil is formed of 6 turns of copper strip, or No. 9 copper wire, and the secondary is formed of 9 turns of strip, or wire. The primary coil, which is the outside coil, is hinged to the base and can be raised or lowered like the lid of a box. When it is lowered the primary and secondary coils are in the same plane and when it is raised the coils set at an angle to each other. It is shown at D and costs $5.00. Connecting Up the Apparatus. For Alternating Current.--Screw the key to the table about the middle of it and near the front edge; place the high tension condenser back of it and the oscillation transformer back of the latter; set the alternating current transformer to the left of the oscillation transformer and place the rotary or quenched spark gap in front of it. Now bring a pair of _No. 12_ or _14_ insulated wires from the 110 volt lighting leads and connect them with a single-throw, double-pole switch; connect one pole of the switch with one of the posts of the primary coil of the alternating power transformer and connect the other post of the latter with one of the posts of your key, and the other post of this with the other pole of the switch. Now connect the motor of the rotary spark gap to the power circuit and put a single-pole, single-throw switch in the motor circuit, all of which is shown at A in Fig. 22. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 22.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for Sending Set No. 2.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 22.--Wiring Diagram for Sending Set No. 2.] Next connect the posts of the secondary coil to the posts of the rotary or quenched spark gap and connect one post of the latter to one post of the condenser, the other post of this to the post of the primary coil of the oscillation transformer, which is the inside coil, and the clip of the primary coil to the other spark gap post. This completes the closed oscillation circuit. Finally connect the post of the secondary coil of the oscillation transformer to the ground and the clip of it to the wire leading to the aerial when you are ready to tune the set. A wiring diagram of the connections is shown at B. For Direct Current.--Where you have 110 volt direct current you must connect in an electrolytic interrupter. This interrupter, which is shown at A and B in Fig. 23, consists of (1) a jar filled with a solution of 1 part of sulphuric acid and 9 parts of water, (2) a lead electrode having a large surface fastened to the cover of surface that sets in a porcelain sleeve and whose end rests on the bottom of the jar. [Illustration: Fig. 23.--Using 110 Volt Direct Current with an Alternating Current Transformer.] When these electrodes are connected in series with the primary of a large spark coil or an alternating current transformer, see C, and a direct current of from 40 to 110 volts is made to pass through it, the current is made and broken from 1,000 to 10,000 times a minute. By raising or lowering the sleeve, thus exposing more or less of the platinum, or alloy point, the number of interruptions per minute can be varied at will. As the electrolytic interrupter will only operate in one direction, you must connect it with its platinum, or alloy anode, to the + or _positive_ power lead and the lead cathode to the - or _negative_ power lead. You can find out which is which by connecting in the interrupter and trying it, or you can use a polarity indicator. An electrolytic interrupter can be bought for as little as $3.00. How to Adjust Your Transmitter. Tuning With a Hot Wire Ammeter.--A transmitter can be tuned in two different ways and these are: (1) by adjusting the length of the spark gap and the tuning coil so that the greatest amount of energy is set up in the oscillating circuits, and (2) by adjusting the apparatus so that it will send out waves of a given length. To adjust the transmitter so that the circuits will be in tune you should have a _hot wire ammeter_, or radiation ammeter, as it is called, which is shown in Fig. 24. It consists of a thin platinum wire through which the high-frequency currents surge and these heat it; the expansion and contraction of the wire moves a needle over a scale marked off into fractions of an ampere. When the spark gap and tuning coil of your set are properly adjusted, the needle will swing farthest to the right over the scale and you will then know that the aerial wire system, or open oscillation circuit, and the closed oscillation circuit are in tune and radiating the greatest amount of energy. [Illustration: Fig. 24.--Principle of the Hot Wire Ammeter.] To Send Out a 200 Meter Wave Length.--If you are using a condenser having a capacitance of .007 microfarad, which is the largest capacity value that the Government will allow an amateur to use, then if you have a hot wire ammeter in your aerial and tune the inductance coil or coils until the ammeter shows the largest amount of energy flowing through it you will know that your transmitter is tuned and that the aerial is sending out waves whose length is 200 meters. To tune to different wave lengths you must have a _wave-meter_. The Use of the Aerial Switch.--Where you intend to install both a transmitter and a receptor you will need a throwover switch, or _aerial switch_, as it is called. An ordinary double-pole, double-throw switch, as shown at A in Fig. 25, can be used, or a switch made especially for the purpose as at B is handier because the arc of the throw is much less. [Illustration: Fig. 25.--Kinds of Aerial Switches.] Aerial Switch for a Complete Sending and Receiving Set.--You can buy a double-pole, double-throw switch mounted on a porcelain base for about 75 cents and this will serve for _Set No. 1_. Screw this switch on your table between the sending and receiving sets and then connect one of the middle posts of it with the ground wire and the other middle post with the lightning switch which connects with the aerial. Connect the post of the tuning coil with one of the end posts of the switch and the clip of the tuning coil with the other and complementary post of the switch. This done, connect one of the opposite end posts of the switch to the post of the receiving tuning coil and connect the sliding contact of the latter with the other and complementary post of the switch as shown in Fig. 26. [Illustration: Fig. 26.--Wiring Diagram for Complete Sending and Receiving Set No. 1.] Connecting in the Lightning Switch.--The aerial wire connects with the middle post of the lightning switch, while one of the end posts lead to one of the middle posts of the aerial switch. The other end post of the lightning switch leads to a separate ground outside the building, as the wiring diagrams Figs. 26 and 27 show. [Illustration: Fig. 27.--Wiring Diagram for Complete Sending and Receiving Set No. 2.] CHAPTER V ELECTRICITY SIMPLY EXPLAINED It is easy to understand how electricity behaves and what it does if you get the right idea of it at the start. In the first place, if you will think of electricity as being a fluid like water its fundamental actions will be greatly simplified. Both water and electricity may be at rest or in motion. When at rest, under certain conditions, either one will develop pressure, and this pressure when released will cause them to flow through their respective conductors and thus produce a current. Electricity at Rest and in Motion.--Any wire or a conductor of any kind can be charged with electricity, but a Leyden jar, or other condenser, is generally used to hold an electric charge because it has a much larger _capacitance_, as its capacity is called, than a wire. As a simple analogue of a condenser, suppose you have a tank of water raised above a second tank and that these are connected together by means of a pipe with a valve in it, as shown at A in Fig. 28. [Illustration: Fig. 28.--Water Analogue for Electric Pressure.] [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. First Wireless College in the World, at Tufts College, Mass.] Now if you fill the upper tank with water and the valve is turned off, no water can flow into the lower tank but there is a difference of pressure between them, and the moment you turn the valve on a current of water will flow through the pipe. In very much the same way when you have a condenser charged with electricity the latter will be under _pressure,_ that is, a _difference of potential_ will be set up, for one of the sheets of metal will be charged positively and the other one, which is insulated from it, will be charged negatively, as shown at B. On closing the switch the opposite charges rush together and form a current which flows to and fro between the metal plates. [Footnote: Strictly speaking it is the difference of potential that sets up the electromotive force.] The Electric Current and Its Circuit.--Just as water flowing through a pipe has _quantity_ and _pressure_ back of it and the pipe offers friction to it which tends to hold back the water, so, likewise, does electricity flowing in a circuit have: (1) _quantity_, or _current strength_, or just _current_, as it is called for short, or _amperage_, and (2) _pressure_, or _potential difference_, or _electromotive force_, or _voltage_, as it is variously called, and the wire, or circuit, in which the current is flowing has (3) _resistance_ which tends to hold back the current. A definite relation exists between the current and its electromotive force and also between the current, electromotive force and the resistance of the circuit; and if you will get this relationship clearly in your mind you will have a very good insight into how direct and alternating currents act. To keep a quantity of water flowing in a loop of pipe, which we will call the circuit, pressure must be applied to it and this may be done by a rotary pump as shown at A in Fig. 29; in the same way, to keep a quantity of electricity flowing in a loop of wire, or circuit, a battery, or other means for generating electric pressure must be used, as shown at B. [Illustration: Fig. 29.--Water Analogues for Direct and Alternating Currents.] If you have a closed pipe connected with a piston pump, as at C, as the piston moves to and fro the water in the pipe will move first one way and then the other. So also when an alternating current generator is connected to a wire circuit, as at D, the current will flow first in one direction and then in the other, and this is what is called an _alternating current_. Current and the Ampere.--The amount of water flowing in a closed pipe is the same at all parts of it and this is also true of an electric current, in that there is exactly the same quantity of electricity at one point of the circuit as there is at any other. The amount of electricity, or current, flowing in a circuit in a second is measured by a unit called the _ampere_, [Footnote: For definition of _ampere_ see _Appendix._] and it is expressed by the symbol I. [Footnote: This is because the letter C is used for the symbol of _capacitance_] Just to give you an idea of the quantity of current an _ampere_ is we will say that a dry cell when fresh gives a current of about 20 amperes. To measure the current in amperes an instrument called an _ammeter_ is used, as shown at A in Fig. 30, and this is always connected in _series_ with the line, as shown at B. [Illustration: Fig. 30.--How the Ammeter and Voltmeter are Used.] Electromotive Force and the Volt.--When you have a pipe filled with water or a circuit charged with electricity and you want to make them flow you must use a pump in the first case and a battery or a dynamo in the second case. It is the battery or dynamo that sets up the electric pressure as the circuit itself is always charged with electricity. The more cells you connect together in _series_ the greater will be the electric pressure developed and the more current it will move along just as the amount of water flowing in a pipe can be increased by increasing the pressure of the pump. The unit of electromotive force is the _volt_, and this is the electric pressure which will force a current of _1 ampere_ through a resistance of _1 ohm_; it is expressed by the symbol _E_. A fresh dry cell will deliver a current of about 1.5 volts. To measure the pressure of a current in volts an instrument called a _voltmeter_ is used, as shown at C in Fig. 30, and this is always connected across the circuit, as shown at D. Resistance and the Ohm.--Just as a water pipe offers a certain amount of resistance to the flow of water through it, so a circuit opposes the flow of electricity in it and this is called _resistance_. Further, in the same way that a small pipe will not allow a large amount of water to flow through it, so, too, a thin wire limits the flow of the current in it. If you connect a _resistance coil_ in a circuit it acts in the same way as partly closing the valve in a pipe, as shown at A and B in Fig. 31. The resistance of a circuit is measured by a unit called the _ohm_, and it is expressed by the symbol _R_. A No. 10, Brown and Sharpe gauge soft copper wire, 1,000 feet long, has a resistance of about 1 ohm. To measure the resistance of a circuit an apparatus called a _resistance bridge is used_. The resistance of a circuit can, however, be easily calculated, as the following shows. [Illustration: Fig. 31.--Water Valve Analogue of Electric Resistance. A- a valve limits the flow of water. B- a resistance limits the flow of current.] What Ohm's Law Is.--If, now, (1) you know what the current flowing in a circuit is in _amperes_, and the electromotive force, or pressure, is in _volts_, you can then easily find what the resistance is in _ohms_ of the circuit in which the current is flowing by this formula: Volts E --------- = Ohms, or --- = R Amperes I That is, if you divide the current in amperes by the electromotive force in volts the quotient will give you the resistance in ohms. Or (2) if you know what the electromotive force of the current is in _volts_ and the resistance of the circuit is in _ohms_ then you can find what the current flowing in the circuit is in _amperes_, thus: Volts E ----- = Amperes, or --- = I Ohms R That is, by dividing the resistance of the circuit in ohms, by the electromotive force of the current you will get the amperes flowing in the circuit. Finally (3) if you know what the resistance of the circuit is in _ohms_ and the current is in _amperes_ then you can find what the electromotive force is in _volts_ since: Ohms x Amperes = Volts, or R x I = E That is, if you multiply the resistance of the circuit in ohms by the current in amperes the result will give you the electromotive force in volts. From this you will see that if you know the value of any two of the constants you can find the value of the unknown constant by a simple arithmetical process. This relation between these three constants is known as _Ohm's Law_ and as they are very important you should memorize them. What the Watt and Kilowatt Are.--Just as _horsepower_ or _H.P._, is the unit of work that steam has done or can do, so the _watt_ is the unit of work that an electric current has done or can do. To find the _watts_ a current develops you need only to multiply the _amperes_ by the _volts_. There are _746 watts_ to _1 horsepower, and 1,000 watts are equal to 1 kilowatt_. Electromagnetic Induction.--To show that a current of electricity sets up a magnetic field around it you have only to hold a compass over a wire whose ends are connected with a battery when the needle will swing at right angles to the length of the wire. By winding an insulated wire into a coil and connecting the ends of the latter with a battery you will find, if you test it with a compass, that the coil is magnetic. This is due to the fact that the energy of an electric current flowing in the wire is partly changed into magnetic lines of force which rotate at right angles about it as shown at A in Fig. 32. The magnetic field produced by the current flowing in the coil is precisely the same as that set up by a permanent steel magnet. Conversely, when a magnetic line of force is set up a part of its energy goes to make up electric currents which whirl about in a like manner, as shown at B. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 32.--How an Electric Current is Changed into Magnetic Lines of Force and These into an Electric Current.] [Illustration: (C) and (D) Fig. 32.--How an Electric Current Sets up a Magnetic Field.] Self-induction or Inductance.--When a current is made to flow in a coil of wire the magnetic lines of force produced are concentrated, as at C, just as a lens concentrates rays of light, and this forms an intense _magnetic field_, as it is called. Now if a bar of soft iron is brought close to one end of the coil of wire, or, better still, if it is pushed into the coil, it will be magnetized by _electromagnetic induction,_ see D, and it will remain a magnet until the current is cut off. Mutual Induction.--When two loops of wire, or better, two coils of wire, are placed close together the electromagnetic induction between them is reactive, that is, when a current is made to flow through one of the coils closed magnetic lines of force are set up and when these cut the other loop or turns of wire of the other coil, they in turn produce electric currents in it. It is the mutual induction that takes place between two coils of wire which makes it possible to transform _low voltage currents_ from a battery or a 110 volt source of current into high pressure currents, or _high potential currents_, as they are called, by means of a spark coil or a transformer, as well as to _step up_ and _step down_ the potential of the high frequency currents that are set up in sending and receiving oscillation transformers. Soft iron cores are not used in oscillation inductance coils and oscillation transformers for the reason that the frequency of the current is so high the iron would not have time to magnetize and demagnetize and so would not help along the mutual induction to any appreciable extent. High-Frequency Currents.--High frequency currents, or electric oscillations as they are called, are currents of electricity that surge to and fro in a circuit a million times, more or less, per second. Currents of such high frequencies will _oscillate_, that is, surge to and fro, in an _open circuit_, such as an aerial wire system, as well as in a _closed circuit_. Now there is only one method by which currents of high frequency, or _radio-frequency_, as they are termed, can be set up by spark transmitters, and this is by discharging a charged condenser through a circuit having a small resistance. To charge a condenser a spark coil or a transformer is used and the ends of the secondary coil, which delivers the high potential alternating current, are connected with the condenser. To discharge the condenser automatically a _spark,_ or an _arc,_ or the _flow of electrons_ in a vacuum tube, is employed. Constants of an Oscillation Circuit.--An oscillation circuit, as pointed out before, is one in which high frequency currents surge or oscillate. Now the number of times a high frequency current will surge forth and back in a circuit depends upon three factors of the latter and these are called the constants of the circuit, namely: (1) its _capacitance,_ (2) its _inductance_ and (3) its _resistance._ What Capacitance Is.--The word _capacitance_ means the _electrostatic capacity_ of a condenser or a circuit. The capacitance of a condenser or a circuit is the quantity of electricity which will raise its pressure, or potential, to a given amount. The capacitance of a condenser or a circuit depends on its size and form and the voltage of the current that is charging it. The capacitance of a condenser or a circuit is directly proportional to the quantity of electricity that will keep the charge at a given potential. The _farad,_ whose symbol is _M,_ is the unit of capacitance and a condenser or a circuit to have a capacitance of one farad must be of such size that one _coulomb,_ which is the unit of electrical quantity, will raise its charge to a potential of one volt. Since the farad is far too large for practical purposes a millionth of a farad, or _microfarad_, whose symbol is _mfd._, is used. What Inductance Is.--Under the sub-caption of _Self-induction_ and _Inductance_ in the beginning of this chapter it was shown that it was the inductance of a coil that makes a current flowing through it produce a strong magnetic field, and here, as one of the constants of an oscillation circuit, it makes a high-frequency current act as though it possessed _inertia_. Inertia is that property of a material body that requires time and energy to set in motion, or stop. Inductance is that property of an oscillation circuit that makes an electric current take time to start and time to stop. Because of the inductance, when a current flows through a circuit it causes the electric energy to be absorbed and changes a large part of it into magnetic lines of force. Where high frequency currents surge in a circuit the inductance of it becomes a powerful factor. The practical unit of inductance is the _henry_ and it is represented by the symbol _L_. What Resistance Is.--The resistance of a circuit to high-frequency currents is different from that for low voltage direct or alternating currents, as the former do not sink into the conductor to nearly so great an extent; in fact, they stick practically to the surface of it, and hence their flow is opposed to a very much greater extent. The resistance of a circuit to high frequency currents is generally found in the spark gap, arc gap, or the space between the electrodes of a vacuum tube. The unit of resistance is, as stated, the _ohm_, and its symbol is _R_. The Effect of Capacitance, Inductance and Resistance on Electric Oscillations.--If an oscillation circuit in which high frequency currents surge has a large resistance, it will so oppose the flow of the currents that they will be damped out and reach zero gradually, as shown at A in Fig. 33. But if the resistance of the circuit is small, and in wireless circuits it is usually so small as to be negligible, the currents will oscillate, until their energy is damped out by radiation and other losses, as shown at B. [Illustration: Fig. 33.--The Effect of Resistance on the Discharge of an Electric Current.] As the capacitance and the inductance of the circuit, which may be made of any value, that is amount, you wish, determines the _time period_, that is, the length of time for a current to make one complete oscillation, it must be clear that by varying the values of the condenser and the inductance coil you can make the high frequency current oscillate as fast or as slow as you wish within certain limits. Where the electric oscillations that are set up are very fast, the waves sent out by the aerial will be short, and, conversely, where the oscillations are slow the waves emitted will be long. CHAPTER VI HOW THE TRANSMITTING AND RECEIVING SETS WORK The easiest way to get a clear conception of how a wireless transmitter sends out electric waves and how a wireless receptor receives them is to take each one separately and follow: (1) in the case of the transmitter, the transformation of the low voltage direct, or alternating current into high potential alternating currents; then find out how these charge the condenser, how this is discharged by the spark gap and sets up high-frequency currents in the oscillation circuits; then (2) in the case of the receptor, to follow the high frequency currents that are set up in the aerial wire and learn how they are transformed into oscillations of lower potential when they have a larger current strength, how these are converted into intermittent direct currents by the detector and which then flow into and operate the telephone receiver. How Transmitting Set No. 1 Works. The Battery and Spark Coil Circuit.--When you press down on the knob of the key the silver points of it make contact and this closes the circuit; the low voltage direct current from the battery now flows through the primary coil of the spark coil and this magnetizes the soft iron core. The instant it becomes magnetic it pulls the spring of the vibrator over to it and this breaks the circuit; when this takes place the current stops flowing through the primary coil; this causes the core to lose its magnetism when the vibrator spring flies back and again makes contact with the adjusting screw; then the cycle of operations is repeated. A condenser is connected across the contact points of the vibrator since this gives a much higher voltage at the ends of the secondary coil than where the coil is used without it; this is because: (1) the self-induction of the primary coil makes the pressure of the current rise and when the contact points close the circuit again it discharges through the primary coil, and (2) when the break takes place the current flows into the condenser instead of arcing across the contact points. Changing the Primary Spark Coil Current Into Secondary Currents.--Now every time the vibrator contact points close the primary circuit the electric current in the primary coil is changed into closed magnetic lines of force and as these cut through the secondary coil they set up in it a _momentary current_ in one direction. Then the instant the vibrator points break apart the primary circuit is opened and the closed magnetic lines of force contract and as they do so they cut the turns of wire in the secondary coil in the opposite direction and this sets up another momentary current in the secondary coil in the other direction. The result is that the low voltage direct current of the battery is changed into alternating currents whose frequency is precisely that of the spring vibrator, but while the frequency of the currents is low their potential, or voltage, is enormously increased. What Ratio of Transformation Means.--To make a spark coil step up the low voltage direct current into high potential alternating current the primary coil is wound with a couple of layers of thick insulated copper wire and the secondary is wound with a thousand, more or less, number of turns with very fine insulated copper wire. If the primary and secondary coils were wound with the same number of turns of wire then the pressure, or voltage, of the secondary coil at its terminals would be the same as that of the current which flowed through the primary coil. Under these conditions the _ratio of transformation_, as it is called, would be unity. The ratio of transformation is directly proportional to the number of turns of wire on the primary and secondary coils and, since this is the case, if you wind 10 turns of wire on the primary coil and 1,000 turns of wire on the secondary coil then you will get 100 times as high a pressure, or voltage, at the terminals of the secondary as that which you caused to flow through the primary coil, but, naturally, the current strength, or amperage, will be proportionately decreased. The Secondary Spark Coil Circuit.--This includes the secondary coil and the spark gap which are connected together. When the alternating, but high potential, currents which are developed by the secondary coil, reach the balls, or _electrodes_, of the spark gap the latter are alternately charged positively and negatively. Now take a given instant when one electrode is charged positively and the other one is charged negatively, then when they are charged to a high enough potential the electric strain breaks down the air gap between them and the two charges rush together as described in the chapter before this one in connection with the discharge of a condenser. When the charges rush together they form a current which burns out the air in the gap and this gives rise to the spark, and as the heated gap between the two electrodes is a very good conductor the electric current surges forth and back with high frequency, perhaps a dozen times, before the air replaces that which has burned out. It is the inrushing air to fill the vacuum of the gap that makes the crackling noise which accompanies the discharge of the electric spark. In this way then electric oscillations of the order of a million, more or less, are produced and if an aerial and a ground wire are connected to the spark balls, or electrodes, the oscillations will surge up and down it and the energy of these in turn, are changed into electric waves which travel out into space. An open circuit transmitter of this kind will send out waves that are four times as long as the aerial itself, but as the waves it sends out are strongly damped the Government will not permit it to be used. The Closed Oscillation Circuit.--By using a closed oscillation circuit the transmitter can be tuned to send out waves of a given length and while the waves are not so strongly damped more current can be sent into the aerial wire system. The closed oscillation circuit consists of: (1) a _spark gap_, (2) a _condenser_ and (3) an _oscillation transformer_. The high potential alternating current delivered by the secondary coil not only charges the spark gap electrodes which necessarily have a very small capacitance, but it charges the condenser which has a large capacitance and the value of which can be changed at will. Now when the condenser is fully charged it discharges through the spark gap and then the electric oscillations set up surge to and fro through the closed circuit. As a closed circuit is a very poor radiator of energy, that is, the electric oscillations are not freely converted into electric waves by it, they surge up to, and through the aerial wire; now as the aerial wire is a good radiator nearly all of the energy of the electric oscillations which surge through it are converted into electric waves. How Transmitting Set No. 2 Works. With Alternating Current. The operation of a transmitting set that uses an alternating current transformer, or _power transformer,_ as it is sometimes called, is even more simple than one using a spark coil. The transformer needs no vibrator when used with alternating current. The current from a generator flows through the primary coil of the transformer and the alternations of the usual lighting current is 60 cycles per second. This current sets up an alternating magnetic field in the core of the transformer and as these magnetic lines of force expand and contract they set up alternating currents of the same frequency but of much higher voltage at the terminals of the secondary coil according to the ratio of the primary and secondary turns of wire as explained under the sub-caption of _Ratio of Transformation_. With Direct Current.--When a 110 volt direct current is used to energize the power transformer an _electrolytic_ interruptor is needed to make and break the primary circuit, just as a vibrator is needed for the same purpose with a spark coil. When the electrodes are connected in series with the primary coil of a transformer and a source of direct current having a potential of 40 to 110 volts, bubbles of gas are formed on the end of the platinum, or alloy anode, which prevent the current from flowing until the bubbles break and then the current flows again, in this way the current is rapidly made and broken and the break is very sharp. Where this type of interrupter is employed the condenser that is usually shunted around the break is not necessary as the interrupter itself has a certain inherent capacitance, due to electrolytic action, and which is called its _electrolytic capacitance_, and this is large enough to balance the self-induction of the circuit since the greater the number of breaks per minute the smaller the capacitance required. The Rotary Spark Gap.--In this type of spark gap the two fixed electrodes are connected with the terminals of the secondary coil of the power transformer and also with the condenser and primary of the oscillation transformer. Now whenever any pair of electrodes on the rotating disk are in a line with the pair of fixed electrodes a spark will take place, hence the pitch of the note depends on the speed of the motor driving the disk. This kind of a rotary spark-gap is called _non-synchronous_ and it is generally used where a 60 cycle alternating current is available but it will work with other higher frequencies. The Quenched Spark Gap.--If you strike a piano string a single quick blow it will continue to vibrate according to its natural period. This is very much the way in which a quenched spark gap sets up oscillations in a coupled closed and open circuit. The oscillations set up in the primary circuit by a quenched spark make only three or four sharp swings and in so doing transfer all of their energy over to the secondary circuit, where it will oscillate some fifty times or more before it is damped out, because the high frequency currents are not forced, but simply oscillate to the natural frequency of the circuit. For this reason the radiated waves approach somewhat the condition of continuous waves, and so sharper tuning is possible. The Oscillation Transformer.--In this set the condenser in the closed circuit is charged and discharged and sets up oscillations that surge through the closed circuit as in _Set No. 1_. In this set, however, an oscillation transformer is used and as the primary coil of it is included in the closed circuit the oscillations set up in it produce strong oscillating magnetic lines of force. The magnetic field thus produced sets up in turn electric oscillations in the secondary coil of the oscillation transformer and these surge through the aerial wire system where their energy is radiated in the form of electric waves. The great advantage of using an oscillation transformer instead of a simple inductance coil is that the capacitance of the closed circuit can be very much larger than that of the aerial wire system. This permits more energy to be stored up by the condenser and this is impressed on the aerial when it is radiated as electric waves. How Receiving Set No. I Works.--When the electric waves from a distant sending station impinge on the wire of a receiving aerial their energy is changed into electric oscillations that are of exactly the same frequency (assuming the receptor is tuned to the transmitter) but whose current strength (amperage) and potential (voltage) are very small. These electric waves surge through the closed circuit but when they reach the crystal detector the contact of the metal point on the crystal permits more current to flow through it in one direction than it will allow to pass in the other direction. For this reason a crystal detector is sometimes called a _rectifier_, which it really is. Thus the high frequency currents which the steel magnet cores of the telephone receiver would choke off are changed by the detector into intermittent direct currents which can flow through the magnet coils of the telephone receiver. Since the telephone receiver chokes off the oscillations, a small condenser can be shunted around it so that a complete closed oscillation circuit is formed and this gives better results. When the intermittent rectified current flows through the coils of the telephone receiver it energizes the magnet as long as it lasts, when it is de-energized; this causes the soft iron disk, or _diaphragm_ as it is called, which sets close to the ends of the poles of the magnet, to vibrate; and this in turn gives forth sounds such as dots and dashes, speech or music, according to the nature of the electric waves that sent them out at the distant station. How Receiving Set No. 2 Works.--When the electric oscillations that are set up by the incoming electric waves on the aerial wire surge through the primary coil of the oscillation transformer they produce a magnetic field and as the lines of force of the latter cut the secondary coil, oscillations of the same frequency are set up in it. The potential (voltage) of these oscillations are, however, _stepped down_ in the secondary coil and, hence, their current strength (amperes) is increased. The oscillations then flow through the closed circuit where they are rectified by the crystal detector and transformed into sound waves by the telephone receiver as described in connection with _Set No. 1_. The variable condenser shunted across the closed circuit permits finer secondary tuning to be done than is possible without it. Where you are receiving continuous waves from a wireless telephone transmitter (speech or music) you have to tune sharper than is possible with the tuning coil alone and to do this a variable condenser connected in parallel with the secondary coil is necessary. CHAPTER VII MECHANICAL AND ELECTRICAL TUNING There is a strikingly close resemblance between _sound waves_ and the way they are set up in _the air_ by a mechanically vibrating body, such as a steel spring or a tuning fork, and _electric waves_ and the way they are set up in _the ether_ by a current oscillating in a circuit. As it is easy to grasp the way that sound waves are produced and behave something will be told about them in this chapter and also an explanation of how electric waves are produced and behave and thus you will be able to get a clear understanding of them and of tuning in general. Damped and Sustained Mechanical Vibrations.--If you will place one end of a flat steel spring in a vice and screw it up tight as shown at A in Fig. 34, and then pull the free end over and let it go it will vibrate to and fro with decreasing amplitude until it comes to rest as shown at B. When you pull the spring over you store up energy in it and when you let it go the stored up energy is changed into energy of motion and the spring moves forth and back, or _vibrates_ as we call it, until all of its stored up energy is spent. [Illustration: Fig. 34.--Damped and Sustained Mechanical Vibrations.] If it were not for the air surrounding it and other frictional losses, the spring would vibrate for a very long time as the stored up energy and the energy of motion would practically offset each other and so the energy would not be used up. But as the spring beats the air the latter is sent out in impulses and the conversion of the vibrations of the spring into waves in the air soon uses up the energy you have imparted to it and it comes to rest. In order to send out _continuous waves_ in the air instead of _damped waves_ as with a flat steel spring you can use an _electric driven tuning fork_, see C, in which an electromagnet is fixed on the inside of the prongs and when this is energized by a battery current the vibrations of the prongs of the fork are kept going, or are _sustained_, as shown in the diagram at D. Damped and Sustained Electric Oscillations.--The vibrating steel spring described above is a very good analogue of the way that damped electric oscillations which surge in a circuit set up and send out periodic electric waves in the ether while the electric driven tuning fork just described is likewise a good analogue of how sustained oscillations surge in a circuit and set up and send out continuous electric waves in the ether as the following shows. Now the inductance and resistance of a circuit such as is shown at A in Fig. 35, slows down, and finally damps out entirely, the electric oscillations of the high frequency currents, see B, where these are set up by the periodic discharge of a condenser, precisely as the vibrations of the spring are damped out by the friction of the air and other resistances that act upon it. As the electric oscillations surge to and fro in the circuit it is opposed by the action of the ether which surrounds it and electric waves are set up in and sent out through it and this transformation soon uses up the energy of the current that flows in the circuit. [Illustration: Fig. 35.--Damped and Sustained Electric Oscillations.] To send out _continuous waves_ in the ether such as are needed for wireless telephony instead of _damped waves_ which are, at the present writing, generally used for wireless telegraphy, an _electric oscillation arc_ or a _vacuum tube oscillator_ must be used, see C, instead of a spark gap. Where a spark gap is used the condenser in the circuit is charged periodically and with considerable lapses of time between each of the charging processes, when, of course, the condenser discharges periodically and with the same time element between them. Where an oscillation arc or a vacuum tube is used the condenser is charged as rapidly as it is discharged and the result is the oscillations are sustained as shown at D. About Mechanical Tuning.--A tuning fork is better than a spring or a straight steel bar for setting up mechanical vibrations. As a matter of fact a tuning fork is simply a steel bar bent in the middle so that the two ends are parallel. A handle is attached to middle point of the fork so that it can be held easily and which also allows it to vibrate freely, when the ends of the prongs alternately approach and recede from one another. When the prongs vibrate the handle vibrates up and down in unison with it, and imparts its motion to the _sounding box_, or _resonance case_ as it is sometimes called, where one is used. If, now, you will mount the fork on a sounding box which is tuned so that it will be in resonance with the vibrations of the fork there will be a direct reinforcement of the vibrations when the note emitted by it will be augmented in strength and quality. This is called _simple resonance_. Further, if you mount a pair of forks, each on a separate sounding box, and have the forks of the same size, tone and pitch, and the boxes synchronized, that is, tuned to the same frequency of vibration, then set the two boxes a foot or so apart, as shown at A in Fig. 36, when you strike one of the forks with a rubber hammer it will vibrate with a definite frequency and, hence, send out sound waves of a given length. When the latter strike the second fork the impact of the molecules of air of which the sound waves are formed will set its prongs to vibrating and it will, in turn, emit sound waves of the same length and this is called _sympathetic resonance_, or as we would say in wireless the forks are _in tune_. [Illustration: Fig. 36.--Sound Wave and Electric Wave Tuned Senders and Receptors. A - variable tuning forks for showing sound wave tuning. B - variable oscillation circuits for showing electric wave tuning.] Tuning forks are made with adjustable weights on their prongs and by fixing these to different parts of them the frequency with which the forks vibrate can be changed since the frequency varies inversely with the square of the length and directly with the thickness [Footnote: This law is for forks having a rectangular cross-section. Those having a round cross-section vary as the radius.] of the prongs. Now by adjusting one of the forks so that it vibrates at a frequency of, say, 16 per second and adjusting the other fork so that it vibrates at a frequency of, say, 18 or 20 per second, then the forks will not be in tune with each other and, hence, if you strike one of them the other will not respond. But if you make the forks vibrate at the same frequency, say 16, 20 or 24 per second, when you strike one of them the other will vibrate in unison with it. About Electric Tuning.--Electric resonance and electric tuning are very like those of acoustic resonance and acoustic tuning which I have just described. Just as acoustic resonance may be simple or sympathetic so electric resonance may be simple or sympathetic. Simple acoustic resonance is the direct reinforcement of a simple vibration and this condition is had when a tuning fork is mounted on a sounding box. In simple electric resonance an oscillating current of a given frequency flowing in a circuit having the proper inductance and capacitance may increase the voltage until it is several times greater than its normal value. Tuning the receptor circuits to the transmitter circuits are examples of sympathetic electric resonance. As a demonstration if you have two Leyden jars (capacitance) connected in circuit with two loops of wire (inductance) whose inductance can be varied as shown at B in Fig. 36, when you make a spark pass between the knobs of one of them by means of a spark coil then a spark will pass in the gap of the other one provided the inductance of the two loops of wire is the same. But if you vary the inductance of the one loop so that it is larger or smaller than that of the other loop no spark will take place in the second circuit. When a tuning fork is made to vibrate it sends out waves in the air, or sound waves, in all directions and just so when high frequency currents surge in an oscillation circuit they send out waves in the ether, or electric waves, that travel in all directions. For this reason electric waves from a transmitting station cannot be sent to one particular station, though they do go further in one direction than in another, according to the way your aerial wire points. Since the electric waves travel out in all directions any receiving set properly tuned to the wave length of the sending station will receive the waves and the only limit on your ability to receive from high-power stations throughout the world depends entirely on the wave length and sensitivity of your receiving set. As for tuning, just as changing the length and the thickness of the prongs of a tuning fork varies the frequency with which it vibrates and, hence, the length of the waves it sends out, so, too, by varying the capacitance of the condenser and the inductance of the tuning coil of the transmitter the frequency of the electric oscillations set up in the circuit may be changed and, consequently, the length of the electric waves they send out. Likewise, by varying the capacitance and the inductance of the receptor the circuits can be tuned to receive incoming electric waves of whatever length within the limitation of the apparatus. CHAPTER VIII A SIMPLE VACUUM TUBE DETECTOR RECEIVING SET While you can receive dots and dashes from spark wireless telegraph stations and hear spoken words and music from wireless telephone stations with a crystal detector receiving set such as described in Chapter III, you can get stations that are much farther away and hear them better with a _vacuum tube detector_ receiving set. Though the vacuum tube detector requires two batteries to operate it and the receiving circuits are somewhat more complicated than where a crystal detector is used still the former does not have to be constantly adjusted as does the latter and this is another very great advantage. Taken all in all the vacuum tube detector is the most sensitive and the most satisfactory of the detectors that are in use at the present time. Not only is the vacuum tube a detector of electric wave signals and speech and music but it can also be used to _amplify_ them, that is, to make them stronger and, hence, louder in the telephone receiver and further its powers of amplification are so great that it will reproduce them by means of a _loud speaker_, just as a horn amplifies the sounds of a phonograph reproducer, until they can be heard by a room or an auditorium full of people. There are two general types of loud speakers, though both use the principle of the telephone receiver. The construction of these loud speakers will be fully described in a later chapter. Assembled Vacuum Tube Receiving Sets.--You can buy a receiving set with a vacuum tube detector from the very simplest type, which is described in this chapter, to those that are provided with _regenerative circuits_ and _amplifying_ tubes or both, which we shall describe in later chapters, from dealers in electrical apparatus generally. While one of these sets costs more than you can assemble a set for yourself, still, especially in the beginning, it is a good plan to buy an assembled one for it is fitted with a _panel_ on which the adjusting knobs of the rheostat, tuning coil and condenser are mounted and this makes it possible to operate it as soon as you get it home and without the slightest trouble on your part. You can, however, buy all the various parts separately and mount them yourself. If you want the receptor simply for receiving then it is a good scheme to have all of the parts mounted in a box or enclosed case, but if you want it for experimental purposes then the parts should be mounted on a base or a panel so that all of the connections are in sight and accessible. A Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set.--For this set you should use: (1) a _loose coupled tuning coil,_ (2) a _variable condenser,_ (3) a _vacuum tube detector,_ (4) an A or _storage battery_ giving 6 volts, (5) a B or _dry cell battery_ giving 22-1/2 volts, (6) a _rheostat_ for varying the storage battery current, and (7) a pair of 2,000-ohm _head telephone receivers_. The loose coupled tuning coil, the variable condenser and the telephone receivers are the same as those described in Chapter III. The Vacuum Tube Detector. With Two Electrodes.--A vacuum tube in its simplest form consists of a glass bulb like an incandescent lamp in which a _wire filament_ and a _metal plate_ are sealed as shown in Fig. 37, The air is then pumped out of the tube and a vacuum left or after it is exhausted it is filled with nitrogen, which cannot burn. [Illustration: Fig. 37.--Two Electrode Vacuum Tube Detectors.] When the vacuum tube is used as a detector, the wire filament is heated red-hot and the metal plate is charged with positive electricity though it remains cold. The wire filament is formed into a loop like that of an incandescent lamp and its outside ends are connected with a 6-volt storage battery, which is called the A battery; then the + or _positive_ terminal of a 22-1/2 volt dry cell battery, called the B battery, is connected to the metal plate while the - or _negative_ terminal of the battery is connected to one of the terminals of the wire filament. The diagram, Fig. 37, simply shows how the two electrode vacuum tube, the A or dry battery, and the B or storage battery are connected up. Three Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector.--The three electrode vacuum tube detector shown at A in Fig. 38, is much more sensitive than the two electrode tube and has, in consequence, all but supplanted it. In this more recent type of vacuum tube the third electrode, or _grid_, as it is called, is placed between the wire filament and the metal plate and this allows the current to be increased or decreased at will to a very considerable extent. [Illustration: Fig. 38.--Three Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector and Battery Connections.] The way the three electrode vacuum tube detector is connected with the batteries is shown at B. The plate, the A or dry cell battery and one terminal of the filament are connected in _series_--that is, one after the other, and the ends of the filament are connected to the B or storage battery. In assembling a receiving set you must, of course, have a socket for the vacuum tube. A vacuum tube detector costs from $5.00 to $6.00. The Dry Cell and Storage Batteries.--The reason that a storage battery is used for heating the filament of the vacuum tube detector is because the current delivered is constant, whereas when a dry cell battery is used the current soon falls off and, hence, the heat of the filament gradually grows less. The smallest A or 6 volt storage battery on the market has a capacity of 20 to 40 ampere hours, weighs 13 pounds and costs about $10.00. It is shown at A in Fig. 39. The B or dry cell battery for the vacuum tube plate circuit that gives 22-1/2 volts can be bought already assembled in sealed boxes. The small size is fitted with a pair of terminals while the larger size is provided with _taps_ so that the voltage required by the plate can be adjusted as the proper operation of the tube requires careful regulation of the plate voltage. A dry cell battery for a plate circuit is shown at B. [Illustration: Fig. 39.--A and B Batteries for Vacuum Tube Detectors.] The Filament Rheostat.--An adjustable resistance, called a _rheostat_, must be used in the filament and storage battery circuit so that the current flowing through the filament can be controlled to a nicety. The rheostat consists of an insulating and a heat resisting form on which is wound a number of turns of resistance wire. A movable contact arm that slides over and presses on the turns of wire is fixed to the knob on top of the rheostat. A rheostat that has a resistance of 6 ohms and a current carrying capacity of 1.5 amperes which can be mounted on a panel board is the right kind to use. It is shown at A and B in Fig. 40 and costs $1.25. [Illustration: Fig. 40.--Rheostat for the A or Storage Battery Current.] Assembling the Parts.--Begin by placing all of the separate parts of the receiving set on a board or a base of other material and set the tuning coil on the left hand side with the adjustable switch end toward the right hand side so that you can reach it easily. Then set the variable condenser in front of it, set the vacuum tube detector at the right hand end of the tuning coil and the rheostat in front of the detector. Place the two sets of batteries back of the instruments and screw a couple of binding posts _a_ and _b_ to the right hand lower edge of the base for connecting in the head phones all of which is shown at A in Fig. 41. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 41.--Top View of Apparatus Layout for a Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 41.--Wiring Diagram of a Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set.] Connecting Up the Parts.--To wire up the different parts begin by connecting the sliding contact of the primary coil of the loose coupled tuning coil (this you will remember is the outside one that is wound with fine wire) to the upper post of the lightning switch and connect one terminal of this coil with the water pipe. Now connect the free end of the secondary coil of the tuning coil (this is the inside coil that is wound with heavy wire) to one of the binding posts of the variable condenser and connect the movable contact arm of the adjustable switch of the primary of the tuning coil with the other post of the variable condenser. Next connect the grid of the vacuum tube to one of the posts of the condenser and then connect the plate of the tube to the _carbon terminal_ of the B or dry cell battery which is the + or _positive pole_ and connect the _zinc terminal_ of the - or _negative_ pole to the binding post _a_, connect the post _b_ to the other side of the variable condenser and then connect the terminals of the head phones to the binding posts _a_ and _b_. Whatever you do be careful not to get the plate connections of the battery reversed. Now connect one of the posts of the rheostat to one terminal of the filament and the other terminal of the filament to the - or _negative_ terminal of the A or storage battery and the + or _positive_ terminal of the A or storage battery to the other post of the rheostat. Finally connect the + or positive terminal of the A or storage battery with the wire that runs from the head phones to the variable condenser, all of which is shown in the wiring diagram at B in Fig. 41. Adjusting the Vacuum Tube Detector Receiving Set.--A vacuum tube detector is tuned exactly in the same way as the _Crystal Detector Set No. 2_ described in Chapter III, in-so-far as the tuning coil and variable condenser are concerned. The sensitivity of the vacuum tube detector receiving set and, hence, the distance over which signals and other sounds can be heard depends very largely on the sensitivity of the vacuum tube itself and this in turn depends on: (1) the right amount of heat developed by the filament, or _filament brilliancy_ as it is called, (2) the right amount of voltage applied to the plate, and (3) the extent to which the tube is exhausted where this kind of a tube is used. To vary the current flowing from the A or storage battery through the filament so that it will be heated to the right degree you adjust the rheostat while you are listening in to the signals or other sounds. By carefully adjusting the rheostat you can easily find the point at which it makes the tube the most sensitive. A rheostat is also useful in that it keeps the filament from burning out when the current from the battery first flows through it. You can very often increase the sensitiveness of a vacuum tube after you have used it for a while by recharging the A or storage battery. The degree to which a vacuum tube has been exhausted has a very pronounced effect on its sensitivity. The longer the tube is used the lower its vacuum gets and generally the less sensitive it becomes. When this takes place (and you can only guess at it) you can very often make it more sensitive by warming it over the flame of a candle. Vacuum tubes having a gas content (in which case they are, of course, no longer vacuum tubes in the strict sense) make better detectors than tubes from which the air has been exhausted and which are sealed off in this evacuated condition because their sensitiveness is not dependent on the degree of vacuum as in the latter tubes. Moreover, a tube that is completely exhausted costs more than one that is filled with gas. CHAPTER IX VACUUM TUBE AMPLIFIER RECEIVING SETS The reason a vacuum tube detector is more sensitive than a crystal detector is because while the latter merely _rectifies_ the oscillating current that surges in the receiving circuits, the former acts as an _amplifier_ at the same time. The vacuum tube can be used as a separate amplifier in connection with either: (1) a _crystal detector_ or (2) a _vacuum tube detector_, and (_a_) it will amplify either the _radio frequency currents_, that is the high frequency oscillating currents which are set up in the oscillation circuits or (_b_) it will amplify the _audio frequency currents_, that is, the _low frequency alternating_ currents that flow through the head phone circuit. To use the amplified radio frequency oscillating currents or amplified audio frequency alternating currents that are set up by an amplifier tube either a high resistance, called a _grid leak_, or an _amplifying transformer_, with or without an iron core, must be connected with the plate circuit of the first amplifier tube and the grid circuit of the next amplifier tube or detector tube, or with the wire point of a crystal detector. Where two or more amplifier tubes are coupled together in this way the scheme is known as _cascade amplification._ Where either a _radio frequency transformer_, that is one without the iron core, or an _audio frequency transformer_, that is one with the iron core, is used to couple the amplifier tube circuits together better results are obtained than where a high resistance grid leak is used, but the amplifying tubes have to be more carefully shielded from each other or they will react and set up a _howling_ noise in the head phones. On the other hand grid leaks cost less but they are more troublesome to use as you have to find out for yourself the exact resistance value they must have and this you can do only by testing them out. A Grid Leak Amplifier Receiving Set. With Crystal Detector.--The apparatus you need for this set includes: (1) a _loose coupled tuning coil_, (2) a _variable condenser_, (3) _two fixed condensers_, (4) a _crystal detector_, or better a _vacuum tube detector_, (5) an A or _6 volt storage battery_, (6) a _rheostat_, (7) a B or 22-1/2 _volt dry cell battery_, (8) a fixed resistance unit, or _leak grid_ as it is called, and (9) a pair of _head-phones_. The tuning coil, variable condenser, fixed condensers, crystal detectors and head-phones are exactly the same as those described in _Set No. 2_ in Chapter III. The A and B batteries are exactly the same as those described in Chapter VIII. The _vacuum tube amplifier_ and the _grid leak_ are the only new pieces of apparatus you need and not described before. The Vacuum Tube Amplifier.--This consists of a three electrode vacuum tube exactly like the vacuum tube detector described in Chapter VIII and pictured in Fig. 38, except that instead of being filled with a non-combustible gas it is evacuated, that is, the air has been completely pumped out of it. The gas filled tube, however, can be used as an amplifier and either kind of tube can be used for either radio frequency or audio frequency amplification, though with the exhausted tube it is easier to obtain the right plate and filament voltages for good working. The Fixed Resistance Unit, or Grid Leak.--Grid leaks are made in different ways but all of them have an enormously high resistance. One way of making them consists of depositing a thin film of gold on a sheet of mica and placing another sheet of mica on top to protect it the whole being enclosed in a glass tube as shown at A in Fig. 42. These grid leaks are made in units of from 50,000 ohms (.05 megohm) to 5,000,000 ohms (5 megohms) and cost from $1 to $2. [Illustration: Fig. 42.--Grid Leaks and How to Connect Them up.] As the _value_ of the grid leak you will need depends very largely upon the construction of the different parts of your receiving set and on the kind of aerial wire system you use with it you will have to try out various resistances until you hit the right one. The resistance that will give the best results, however, lies somewhere between 500,000 ohms (1/2 a megohm) and 3,000,000 ohms (3 megohms) and the only way for you to find this out is to buy 1/2, 1 and 2 megohm grid leak resistances and connect them up in different ways, as shown at B, until you find the right value. Assembling the Parts for a Crystal Detector Set.--Begin by laying the various parts out on a base or a panel with the loose coupled tuning coil on the left hand side, but with the adjustable switch of the secondary coil on the right hand end or in front according to the way it is made. Then place the variable condenser, the rheostat, the crystal detector and the binding posts for the head phones in front of and in a line with each other. Set the vacuum tube amplifier back of the rheostat and the A and B batteries back of the parts or in any other place that may be convenient. The fixed condensers and the grid leak can be placed anywhere so that it will be easy to connect them in and you are ready to wire up the set. Connecting Up the Parts for a Crystal Detector.--First connect the sliding contact of the primary of the tuning coil to the leading-in wire and one of the end wires of the primary to the water pipe, as shown in Fig. 43. Now connect the adjustable arm that makes contact with one end of the secondary of the tuning coil to one of the posts of the variable condenser; then connect the other post of the latter with a post of the fixed condenser and the other post of this with the grid of the amplifying tube. [Illustration: Fig. 43.--Crystal Detector Receiving Set with Vacuum Tube Amplifier (Resistance Coupled).] Connect the first post of the variable condenser to the + or _positive electrode_ of the A battery and its - or _negative electrode_ with the rotating contact arm of the rheostat. Next connect one end of the resistance coil of the rheostat to one of the posts of the amplifier tube that leads to the filament and the other filament post to the + or _positive electrode_ of the A battery. This done connect the _negative_, that is, the _zinc pole_ of the B battery to the positive electrode of the A battery and connect the _positive_, or _carbon pole_ of the former with one end of the grid leak and connect the other end of this to the plate of the amplifier tube. To the end of the grid leak connected with the plate of the amplifier tube connect the metal point of your crystal detector, the crystal of the latter with one post of the head phones and the other post of them with the other end of the grid leak and, finally, connect a fixed condenser in _parallel_ with--that is across the ends of the grid leak, all of which is shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 43. A Grid Leak Amplifying Receiving Set With Vacuum Tube Detector.--A better amplifying receiving set can be made than the one just described by using a vacuum tube detector instead of the crystal detector. This set is built up exactly like the crystal detector described above and shown in Fig. 43 up to and including the grid leak resistance, but shunted across the latter is a vacuum tube detector, which is made and wired up precisely like the one shown at A in Fig. 41 in the chapter ahead of this one. The way a grid leak and vacuum tube detector with a one-step amplifier are connected up is shown at A in Fig. 44. Where you have a vacuum tube detector and one or more amplifying tubes connected up, or in _cascade_ as it is called, you can use an A, or storage battery of 6 volts for all of them as shown at B in Fig. 44, but for every vacuum tube you use you must have a B or 22-1/2 volt dry battery to charge the plate with. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 44--Vacuum Tube Detector Set with One Step Amplifier (Resistance Coupled).] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 44.--Wiring Diagram for Using One A or Storage Battery with an Amplifier and a Detector Tube.] A Radio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set.--Instead of using a grid leak resistance to couple up the amplifier and detector tube circuits you can use a _radio frequency transformer_, that is, a transformer made like a loose coupled tuning coil, and without an iron core, as shown in the wiring diagram at A in Fig. 45. In this set, which gives better results than where a grid leak is used, the amplifier tube is placed in the first oscillation circuit and the detector tube in the second circuit. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 45.--Wiring Diagram for a Radio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 45.--Radio Frequency Transformer.] Since the radio frequency transformer has no iron core the high frequency, or _radio frequency_ oscillating currents, as they are called, surge through it and are not changed into low frequency, or _audio frequency_ pulsating currents, until they flow through the detector. Since the diagram shows only one amplifier and one radio frequency transformer, it is consequently a _one step amplifier_; however, two, three or more, amplifying tubes can be connected up by means of an equal number of radio frequency transformers when you will get wonderful results. Where a six step amplifier, that is, where six amplifying tubes are connected together, or in _cascade_, the first three are usually coupled up with radio frequency transformers and the last three with audio frequency transformers. A radio frequency transformer is shown at B and costs $6 to $7. An Audio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set.--Where audio frequency transformers are used for stepping up the voltage of the current of the detector and amplifier tubes, the radio frequency current does not get into the plate circuit of the detector at all for the reason that the iron core of the transformer chokes them off, hence, the succeeding amplifiers operate at audio frequencies. An audio frequency transformer is shown at A in Fig. 46 and a wiring diagram showing how the tubes are connected in _cascade_ with the transformers is shown at B; it is therefore a two-step audio frequency receiving set. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 46.--Audio Frequency Transformer.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 46--Wiring Diagram for an Audio Frequency Transformer Amplifying Receiving Set. (With Vacuum Tube Detector and Two Step Amplifier Tubes.)] A Six Step Amplifier Receiving Set With a Loop Aerial.--By using a receiving set having a three step radio frequency and a three step audio frequency, that is, a set in which there are coupled three amplifying tubes with radio frequency transformers and three amplifying tubes with audio frequency transformers as described under the caption _A Radio Frequency Transformer Receiving Set_, you can use a _loop aerial_ in your room thus getting around the difficulties--if such there be--in erecting an out-door aerial. You can easily make a loop aerial by winding 10 turns of _No. 14_ or _16_ copper wire about 1/16 inch apart on a wooden frame two feet on the side as shown in Fig. 47. With this six step amplifier set and loop aerial you can receive wave lengths of 150 to 600 meters from various high power stations which are at considerable distances away. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 47.--Six Step Amplifier with Loop Aerial.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 47.--Efficient Regenerative Receiving Set. (With Three Coil Loose Coupler Tuner.)] How to Prevent Howling.--Where radio frequency or audio frequency amplifiers are used to couple your amplifier tubes in cascade you must take particular pains to shield them from one another in order to prevent the _feed back_ of the currents through them, which makes the head phones or loud speaker _howl_. To shield them from each other the tubes should be enclosed in metal boxes and placed at least 6 inches apart while the transformers should be set so that their cores are at right angles to each other and these also should be not less than six inches apart. CHAPTER X REGENERATIVE AMPLIFICATION RECEIVING SETS While a vacuum tube detector has an amplifying action of its own, and this accounts for its great sensitiveness, its amplifying action can be further increased to an enormous extent by making the radio frequency currents that are set up in the oscillation circuits react on the detector. Such currents are called _feed-back_ or _regenerative_ currents and when circuits are so arranged as to cause the currents to flow back through the detector tube the amplification keeps on increasing until the capacity of the tube itself is reached. It is like using steam over and over again in a steam turbine until there is no more energy left in it. A system of circuits which will cause this regenerative action to take place is known as the _Armstrong circuits_ and is so called after the young man who discovered it. Since the regenerative action of the radio frequency currents is produced by the detector tube itself and which sets up an amplifying effect without the addition of an amplifying tube, this type of receiving set has found great favor with amateurs, while in combination with amplifying tubes it multiplies their power proportionately and it is in consequence used in one form or another in all the better sets. There are many different kinds of circuits which can be used to produce the regenerative amplification effect while the various kinds of tuning coils will serve for coupling them; for instance a two or three slide single tuning coil will answer the purpose but as it does not give good results it is not advisable to spend either time or money on it. A better scheme is to use a loose coupler formed of two or three honeycomb or other compact coils, while a _variocoupler_ or a _variometer_ or two will produce the maximum regenerative action. The Simplest Type of Regenerative Receiving Set. With Loose Coupled Tuning Coil.--While this regenerative set is the simplest that will give anything like fair results it is here described not on account of its desirability, but because it will serve to give you the fundamental idea of how the _feed-back_ circuit is formed. For this set you need: (1) a _loose-coupled tuning coil_ such as described in Chapter III, (2) a _variable condenser_ of _.001 mfd._ (microfarad) capacitance; (3) one _fixed condenser_ of _.001 mfd._; (4) one _fixed condenser_ for the grid leak circuit of _.00025 mfd._; (5) a _grid leak_ of 1/2 to 2 megohms resistance; (6) a _vacuum tube detector_; (7) an _A 6 volt battery_; (8) a _rheostat_; (9) a _B 22 1/2 volt battery_; and (10) a pair of _2000 ohm head phones_. Connecting Up the Parts.--Begin by connecting the leading-in wire of the aerial with the binding post end of the primary coil of the loose coupler as shown in the wiring diagram Fig. 48 and then connect the sliding contact with the water pipe or other ground. Connect the binding post end of the primary coil with one post of the variable condenser, connect the other post of this with one of the posts of the _.00025 mfd._ condenser and the other end of this with the grid of the detector tube; then around this condenser shunt the grid leak resistance. [Illustration: Fig. 48.--Simple Regenerative Receiving Set. (With Loose Coupler Tuner.)] Next connect the sliding contact of the primary coil with the other post of the variable condenser and from this lead a wire on over to one of the terminals of the filament of the vacuum tube; to the other terminal of the filament connect one of the posts of the rheostat and connect the other post to the - or negative electrode of the A battery and then connect the + or positive electrode of it to the other terminal of the filament. Connect the + or positive electrode of the A battery with one post of the .001 mfd. fixed condenser and connect the other post of this to one of the ends of the secondary coil of the tuning coil and which is now known as the _tickler coil_; then connect the other end of the secondary, or tickler coil to the plate of the vacuum tube. In the wiring diagram the secondary, or tickler coil is shown above and in a line with the primary coil but this is only for the sake of making the connections clear; in reality the secondary, or tickler coil slides to and fro in the primary coil as shown and described in Chapter III. Finally connect the _negative_, or zinc pole of the _B battery_ to one side of the fixed condenser, the _positive_, or carbon, pole to one of the terminals of the head phones and the other terminal of this to the other post of the fixed condenser when your regenerative set is complete. An Efficient Regenerative Receiving Set. With Three Coil Loose Coupler.--To construct a really good regenerative set you must use a loose coupled tuner that has three coils, namely a _primary_, a _secondary_ and a _tickler coil_. A tuner of this kind is made like an ordinary loose coupled tuning coil but it has a _third_ coil as shown at A and B in Fig. 49. The middle coil, which is the _secondary_, is fixed to the base, and the large outside coil, which is the _primary_, is movable, that is it slides to and fro over the middle coil, while the small inside coil, which is the _tickler_, is also movable and can slide in or out of the middle _coil_. None of these coils is variable; all are wound to receive waves up to 360 meters in length when used with a variable condenser of _.001 mfd_. capacitance. In other words you slide the coils in and out to get the right amount of coupling and you tune by adjusting the variable condenser to get the exact wave length you want. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 49.--Diagram of a Three Coil Coupler.] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 49.--Three Coil Loose Coupler Tuner.] With Compact Coils.--Compact coil tuners are formed of three fixed inductances wound in flat coils, and these are pivoted in a mounting so that the distance between them and, therefore, the coupling, can be varied, as shown at A in Fig. 50. These coils are wound up by the makers for various wave lengths ranging from a small one that will receive waves of any length up to 360 meters to a large one that has a maximum of 24,000 meters. For an amateur set get three of the smallest coils when you can not only hear amateur stations that send on a 200 meter wave but broadcasting stations that send on a 360 meter wave. [Illustration: Fig. 50.--Honeycomb Inductance Coil.] These three coils are mounted with panel plugs which latter fit into a stand, or mounting, so that the middle coil is fixed, that is, stationary, while the two outside coils can be swung to and fro like a door; this scheme permits small variations of coupling to be had between the coils and this can be done either by handles or by means of knobs on a panel board. While I have suggested the use of the smallest size coils, you can get and use those wound for any wave length you want to receive and when those are connected with variometers and variable condensers, and with a proper aerial, you will have a highly efficient receptor that will work over all ranges of wave lengths. The smallest size coils cost about $1.50 apiece and the mounting costs about $6 or $7 each. The A Battery Potentiometer.--This device is simply a resistance like the rheostat described in connection with the preceding vacuum tube receiving sets but it is wound to 200 or 300 ohms resistance as against 1-1/2 to 6 ohms of the rheostat. It is, however, used as well as the rheostat. With a vacuum tube detector, and especially with one having a gas-content, a potentiometer is very necessary as it is only by means of it that the potential of the plate of the detector can be accurately regulated. The result of proper regulation is that when the critical potential value is reached there is a marked increase in the loudness of the sounds that are emitted by the head phones. As you will see from A in Fig. 51 it has three taps. The two taps which are connected with the ends of the resistance coil are shunted around the A battery and the third tap, which is attached to the movable contact arm, is connected with the B battery tap, see B, at which this battery gives 18 volts. Since the A battery gives 6 volts you can vary the potential of the plate from 18 to 24 volts. The potentiometer must never be shunted around the B battery or the latter will soon run down. A potentiometer costs a couple of dollars. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 51.--The Use of the Potentiometer.] The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--For this regenerative set you will need: (1) a _honeycomb_ or other compact _three-coil tuner_, (2) two _variable_ (_.001_ and _.0005 mfd_.) _condensers_; (3) a _.00025 mfd. fixed condenser_; (4) a _1/2 to 2 megohm grid leak_; (5) a _tube detector_; (6) a _6 volt A battery_; (7) _a rheostat_; (8) a _potentiometer_; (9) an _18_ or _20 volt B battery_; (10) a _fixed condenser_ of _.001 mfd. fixed condenser_; and (11) a _pair of 2000 ohm head phones_. To wire up the parts connect the leading-in wire of the aerial with the primary coil, which is the middle one of the tuner, and connect the other terminal with the ground. Connect the ends of the secondary coil, which is the middle one, with the posts of the variable condenser and connect one of the posts of the latter with one post of the fixed .00025 mfd. condenser and the other post of this with the grid; then shunt the grid leak around it. Next connect the other post of the variable condenser to the - or _negative_ electrode of the _A battery_; the + or _positive_ electrode of this to one terminal of the detector filament and the other end of the latter to the electrode of the A battery. Now connect one end of the tickler coil with the detector plate and the other post to the fixed .001 mfd. condenser, then the other end of this to the positive or carbon pole of the B battery. This done shunt the potentiometer around the A battery and run a wire from the movable contact of it (the potentiometer) over to the 18 volt tap, (see B, Fig. 51), of the B battery. Finally, shunt the head phones and the .001 mfd. fixed condenser and you are ready to try out conclusions. A Regenerative Audio Frequency Amplifier Receiving Set.--The use of amateur regenerative cascade audio frequency receiving sets is getting to be quite common. To get the greatest amplification possible with amplifying tubes you have to keep a negative potential on the grids. You can, however, get very good results without any special charging arrangement by simply connecting one post of the rheostat with the negative terminal of the filament and connecting the _low potential_ end of the secondary of the tuning coil with the - or negative electrode of the A battery. This scheme will give the grids a negative bias of about 1 volt. You do not need to bother about these added factors that make for high efficiency until after you have got your receiving set in working order and understand all about it. The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--Exactly the same parts are needed for this set as the one described above, but in addition you will want: (1) two more _rheostats_; (2) _two_ more sets of B 22-1/2 _volt batteries_; (3) _two amplifier tubes_, and (4) _two audio frequency transformers_ as described in Chapter IX and pictured at A in Fig. 46. To wire up the parts begin by connecting the leading-in wire to one end of the primary of the tuning coil and then connect the other end of the coil with the ground. A variable condenser of .001 mfd. capacitance can be connected in the ground wire, as shown in Fig. 52, to good advantage although it is not absolutely needed. Now connect one end of the secondary coil to one post of a _.001 mfd._ variable condenser and the other end of the secondary to the other post of the condenser. [Illustration: Fig. 52.--Regenerative Audio Frequency Amplifier Receiving Set.] Next bring a lead (wire) from the first post of the variable condenser over to the post of the first fixed condenser and connect the other post of the latter with the grid of the detector tube. Shunt 1/2 to 2 megohm grid leak resistance around the fixed condenser and then connect the second post of the variable condenser to one terminal of the detector tube filament. Run this wire on over and connect it with the first post of the second rheostat, the second post of which is connected with one terminal of the filament of the first amplifying tube; then connect the first post of the rheostat with one end of the secondary coil of the first audio frequency transformer, and the other end of this coil with the grid of the first amplifier tube. Connect the lead that runs from the second post of variable condenser to the first post of the third rheostat, the second post of which is connected with one terminal of the second amplifying tube; then connect the first post of the rheostat with one end of the secondary coil of the second audio frequency transformer and the other end of this coil with the grid of the second amplifier tube. This done connect the - or negative electrode of the A battery with the second post of the variable condenser and connect the + or positive electrode with the free post of the first rheostat, the other post of which connects with the free terminal of the filament of the detector. From this lead tap off a wire and connect it to the free terminal of the filament of the first amplifier tube, and finally connect the end of the lead with the free terminal of the filament of the second amplifier tube. Next shunt a potentiometer around the A battery and connect the third post, which connects with the sliding contact, to the negative or zinc pole of a B battery, then connect the positive or carbon pole of it to the negative or zinc pole of a second B battery and the positive or carbon pole of the latter with one end of the primary coil of the second audio frequency transformer and the other end of it to the plate of the first amplifying tube. Run the lead on over and connect it to one of the terminals of the second fixed condenser and the other terminal of this with the plate of the second amplifying tube. Then shunt the headphones around the condenser. Finally connect one end of the tickler coil of the tuner with the plate of the detector tube and connect the other end of the tickler to one end of the primary coil of the first audio frequency transformer and the other end of it to the wire that connects the two B batteries together. CHAPTER XI SHORT WAVE REGENERATIVE RECEIVING SETS A _short wave receiving set_ is one that will receive a range of wave lengths of from 150 to 600 meters while the distance over which the waves can be received as well as the intensity of the sounds reproduced by the headphones depends on: (1) whether it is a regenerative set and (2) whether it is provided with amplifying tubes. High-grade regenerative sets designed especially for receiving amateur sending stations that must use a short wave length are built on the regenerative principle just like those described in the last chapter and further amplification can be had by the use of amplifier tubes as explained in Chapter IX, but the new feature of these sets is the use of the _variocoupler_ and one or more _variometers_. These tuning devices can be connected up in different ways and are very popular with amateurs at the present time. Differing from the ordinary loose coupler the variometer has no movable contacts while the variometer is provided with taps so that you can connect it up for the wave length you want to receive. All you have to do is to tune the oscillation circuits to each other is to turn the _rotor_, which is the secondary coil, around in the _stator_, as the primary coil is called in order to get a very fine variation of the wave length. It is this construction that makes _sharp tuning_ with these sets possible, by which is meant that all wave lengths are tuned out except the one which the receiving set is tuned for. A Short Wave Regenerative Receiver--With One Variometer and Three Variable Condensers.--This set also includes a variocoupler and a _grid coil_. The way that the parts are connected together makes it a simple and at the same time a very efficient regenerative receiver for short waves. While this set can be used without shielding the parts from each other the best results are had when shields are used. The parts you need for this set include: (1) one _variocoupler_; (2) one _.001 microfarad variable condenser_; (3) one _.0005 microfarad variable condenser_; (4) one _.0007 microfarad variable condenser_; (5) _one 2 megohm grid leak_; (6) one _vacuum tube detector_; (7) one _6 volt A battery_; (8) one _6 ohm_, 1-1/2 _ampere rheostat_; (9) one _200 ohm potentiometer_; (10) one 22-1/2 _volt B battery_; (11) one _.001 microfarad fixed condenser_, (12) one pair of _2,000 ohm headphones_, and (13) a _variometer_. The Variocoupler.--A variocoupler consists of a primary coil wound on the outside of a tube of insulating material and to certain turns of this taps are connected so that you can fix the wave length which your aerial system is to receive from the shortest wave; i.e., 150 meters on up by steps to the longest wave, i.e., 600 meters, which is the range of most amateur variocouplers that are sold in the open market. This is the part of the variocoupler that is called the _stator_. The secondary coil is wound on the section of a ball mounted on a shaft and this is swung in bearings on the stator so that it can turn in it. This part of the variocoupler is called the _rotor_ and is arranged so that it can be mounted on a panel and adjusted by means of a knob or a dial. A diagram of a variocoupler is shown at A in Fig. 53, and the coupler itself at B. There are various makes and modifications of variocouplers on the market but all of them are about the same price which is $6.00 or $8.00. [Illustration: Fig. 53.--How the Variocoupler is Made and Works.] The Variometer.--This device is quite like the variocoupler, but with these differences: (1) the rotor turns in the stator, which is also the section of a ball, and (2) one end of the primary is connected with one end of the secondary coil. To be really efficient a variometer must have a small resistance and a large inductance as well as a small dielectric loss. To secure the first two of these factors the wire should be formed of a number of fine, pure copper wires each of which is insulated and the whole strand then covered with silk. This kind of wire is the best that has yet been devised for the purpose and is sold under the trade name of _litzendraht_. A new type of variometer has what is known as a _basket weave_, or _wavy wound_ stator and rotor. There is no wood, insulating compound or other dielectric materials in large enough quantities to absorb the weak currents that flow between them, hence weaker sounds can be heard when this kind of a variometer is used. With it you can tune sharply to waves under 200 meters in length and up to and including wave lengths of 360 meters. When amateur stations of small power are sending on these short waves this style of variometer keeps the electric oscillations at their greatest strength and, hence, the reproduced sounds will be of maximum intensity. A wiring diagram of a variometer is shown at A in Fig. 54 and a _basketball_ variometer is shown complete at B. [Illustration: Fig. 54.--How the Variometer is Made and Works.] Connecting Up the Parts.--To hook-up the set connect the leading-in wire to one end of the primary coil, or stator, of the variocoupler and solder a wire to one of the taps that gives the longest wave length you want to receive. Connect the other end of this wire with one post of a .001 microfarad variable condenser and connect the other post with the ground as shown in Fig. 55. Now connect one end of the secondary coil, or rotor, to one post of a .0007 mfd. variable condenser, the other post of this to one end of the grid coil and the other end of this with the remaining end of the rotor of the variocoupler. [Illustration: Fig. 55.--Short Wave Regenerative Receiving Set (one Variometer and three Variable Condensers.)] Next connect one post of the .0007 mfd. condenser with one of the terminals of the detector filament; then connect the other post of this condenser with one post of the .0005 mfd. variable condenser and the other post of this with the grid of the detector, then shunt the megohm grid leak around the latter condenser. This done connect the other terminal of the filament to one post of the rheostat, the other post of this to the - or negative electrode of the 6 volt A battery and the + or positive electrode of the latter to the other terminal of the filament. Shunt the potentiometer around the A battery and connect the sliding contact with the - or zinc pole of the B battery and the + or carbon pole with one terminal of the headphone; connect the other terminal to one of the posts of the variometer and the other post of the variometer to the plate of the detector. Finally shunt a .001 mfd. fixed condenser around the headphones. If you want to amplify the current with a vacuum tube amplifier connect in the terminals of the amplifier circuit shown at A in Figs. 44 or 45 at the point where they are connected with the secondary coil of the loose coupled tuning coil, in those diagrams with the binding posts of Fig. 55 where the phones are usually connected in. Short Wave Regenerative Receiver. With Two Variometers and Two Variable Condensers.--This type of regenerative receptor is very popular with amateurs who are using high-grade short-wave sets. When you connect up this receptor you must keep the various parts well separated. Screw the variocoupler to the middle of the base board or panel, and secure the variometers on either side of it so that the distance between them will be 9 or 10 inches. By so placing them the coupling will be the same on both sides and besides you can shield them from each other easier. For the shield use a sheet of copper on the back of the panel and place a sheet of copper between the parts, or better, enclose the variometers and detector and amplifying tubes if you use the latter in sheet copper boxes. When you set up the variometers place them so that their stators are at right angles to each other for otherwise the magnetic lines of force set up by the coils of each one will be mutually inductive and this will make the headphones or loud speaker _howl_. Whatever tendency the receptor has to howl with this arrangement can be overcome by putting in a grid leak of the right resistance and adjusting the condenser. The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--For this set you require: (1) one _variocoupler_; (2) two _variometers_; (3) one _.001 microfarad variable condenser_; (4) one _.0005 microfarad variable condenser_; (5) one _2 megohm grid leak resistance_; (6) one _vacuum tube detector_; (7) one _6 volt A battery_; (8) one _200 ohm potentiometer_; (9) one _22-1/2 volt B battery_; (10) one _.001 microfarad fixed condenser_, and (11) one pair of _2,000 ohm headphones_. To wire up the set begin by connecting the leading-in wire to the fixed end of the primary coil, or _stator_, of the variocoupler, as shown in Fig. 56, and connect one post of the .001 mfd. variable condenser to the stator by soldering a short length of wire to the tap of the latter that gives the longest wave you want to receive. Now connect one end of the secondary coil, or _rotor_, of the variocoupler with one post of the .0005 mfd. variable condenser and the other part to the grid of the detector tube. Connect the other end of the rotor of the variocoupler to one of the posts of the first variometer and the other post of this to one of the terminals of the detector filament. [Illustration: Fig. 56.--Short Wave Regenerative Receiving Set (two Variometers and two Variable Condensers.)] Connect this filament terminal with the - or negative electrode of the A battery and the + or positive electrode of this with one post of the rheostat and lead a wire from the other post to the free terminal of the filament. This done shunt the potential around the A battery and connect the sliding contact to the - or zinc pole of the B battery and the + or carbon pole of this to one terminal of the headphones, while the other terminal of this leads to one of the posts of the second variometer, the other post of which is connected to the plate of the detector tube. If you want to add an amplifier tube then connect it to the posts instead of the headphones as described in the foregoing set. CHAPTER XII INTERMEDIATE AND LONG WAVE REGENERATIVE RECEIVING SETS All receiving sets that receive over a range of wave lengths of from 150 meters to 3,000 meters are called _intermediate wave sets_ and all sets that receive wave lengths over a range of anything more than 3,000 meters are called _long wave sets_. The range of intermediate wave receptors is such that they will receive amateur, broadcasting, ship and shore Navy, commercial, Arlington's time and all other stations using _spark telegraph damped waves_ or _arc_ or _vacuum tube telephone continuous waves_ but not _continuous wave telegraph signals_, unless these have been broken up into groups at the transmitting station. To receive continuous wave telegraph signals requires receiving sets of special kind and these will be described in the next chapter. Intermediate Wave Receiving Sets.--There are two chief schemes employed to increase the range of wave lengths that a set can receive and these are by using: (1) _loading coils_ and _shunt condensers_, and (2) _bank-wound coils_ and _variable condensers_. If you have a short-wave set and plan to receive intermediate waves with it then loading coils and fixed condensers shunted around them affords you the way to do it, but if you prefer to buy a new receptor then the better way is to get one with bank-wound coils and variable condensers; this latter way preserves the electrical balance of the oscillation circuits better, the electrical losses are less and the tuning easier and sharper. Intermediate Wave Set With Loading Coils.--For this intermediate wave set you can use either of the short-wave sets described in the foregoing chapter. For the loading coils use _honeycomb coils_, or other good compact inductance coils, as shown in Chapter X and having a range of whatever wave length you wish to receive. The following table shows the range of wave length of the various sized coils when used with a variable condenser having a .001 microfarad _capacitance_, the approximate _inductance_ of each coil in _millihenries_ and prices at the present writing: TABLE OF CHARACTERISTICS OF HONEYCOMB COILS Approximate Wave Length in Meters in Millihenries Inductance .001 mfd. Variable Mounted Appx. Air Condenser. on Plug .040 130-- 375 $1.40 .075 180-- 515 1.40 .15 240-- 730 1.50 .3 330-- 1030 1.50 .6 450-- 1460 1.55 1.3 660-- 2200 1.60 2.3 930-- 2850 1.65 4.5 1300-- 4000 1.70 6.5 1550-- 4800 1.75 11. 2050-- 6300 1.80 20. 3000-- 8500 2.00 40. 4000--12000 2.15 65. 5000--15000 2.35 100. 6200--19000 2.60 125. 7000--21000 3.00 175. 8200--24000 3.50 These and other kinds of compact coils can be bought at electrical supply houses that sell wireless goods. If your aerial is not very high or long you can use loading coils, but to get anything like efficient results with them you must have an aerial of large capacitance and the only way to get this is to put up a high and long one with two or more parallel wires spaced a goodly distance apart. The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--Get (1) _two honeycomb or other coils_ of the greatest wave length you want to receive, for in order to properly balance the aerial, or primary oscillation circuit, and the closed, or secondary oscillation circuit, you have to tune them to the same wave length; (2) two _.001 mfd. variable condensers_, though fixed condensers will do, and (3) two small _single-throw double-pole knife switches_ mounted on porcelain bases. To use the loading coils all you have to do is to connect one of them in the aerial above the primary coil of the loose coupler, or variocoupler as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 57, then shunt one of the condensers around it and connect one of the switches around this; this switch enables you to cut in or out the loading coil at will. Likewise connect the other loading coil in one side of the closed, or secondary circuit between the variable .0007 mfd. condenser and the secondary coil of the loose coupler or variocoupler as shown in Fig. 53. The other connections are exactly the same as shown in Figs. 44 and 45. [Illustration: Fig. 57.--Wiring Diagram Showing Fixed Loading Coils for Intermediate Wave Set.] An Intermediate Wave Set With Variocoupler Inductance Coils.--By using the coil wound on the rotor of the variocoupler as the tickler the coupling between the detector tube circuits and the aerial wire system increases as the set is tuned for greater wave lengths. This scheme makes the control of the regenerative circuit far more stable than it is where an ordinary loose coupled tuning coil is used. When the variocoupler is adjusted for receiving very long waves the rotor sets at right angles to the stator and, since when it is in this position there is no mutual induction between them, the tickler coil serves as a loading coil for the detector plate oscillation circuit. Inductance coils for short wave lengths are usually wound in single layers but _bank-wound coils_, as they are called are necessary to get compactness where long wave lengths are to be received. By winding inductance coils with two or more layers the highest inductance values can be obtained with the least resistance. A wiring diagram of a multipoint inductance coil is shown in Fig. 58. You can buy this intermediate wave set assembled and ready to use or get the parts and connect them up yourself. [Illustration: Fig. 58.--Wiring Diagram for Intermediate Wave Receptor with one Variocoupler and 12 section Bank-wound Inductance Coil.] The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--For this regenerative intermediate wave set get: (1) one _12 section triple bank-wound inductance coil_, (2) one _variometer_, and (3) all the other parts shown in the diagram Fig. 58 except the variocoupler. First connect the free end of the condenser in the aerial to one of the terminals of the stator of the variocoupler; then connect the other terminal of the stator with one of the ends of the bank-wound inductance coil and connect the movable contact of this with the ground. Next connect a wire to the aerial between the variable condenser and the stator and connect this to one post of a .0005 microfarad fixed condenser, then connect the other post of this with the grid of the detector and shunt a 2 megohm grid leak around it. Connect a wire to the ground wire between the bank-wound inductance coil and the ground proper, i.e., the radiator or water pipe, connect the other end of this to the + electrode of the A battery and connect this end also to one of the terminals of the filament. This done connect the other terminal of the filament to one post of the rheostat and the other post of this to the - or negative side of the A battery. To the + electrode of the A battery connect the - or zinc pole of the B battery and connect the + or carbon pole of the latter with one post of the fixed .001 microfarad condenser. This done connect one terminal of the tickler coil which is on the rotor of the variometer to the plate of the detector and the other terminal of the tickler to the other post of the .001 condenser and around this shunt your headphones. Or if you want to use one or more amplifying tubes connect the circuit of the first one, see Fig. 45, to the posts on either side of the fixed condenser instead of the headphones. A Long Wave Receiving Set.--The vivid imagination of Jules Verne never conceived anything so fascinating as the reception of messages without wires sent out by stations half way round the world; and in these days of high power cableless stations on the five continents you can listen-in to the messages and hear what is being sent out by the Lyons, Paris and other French stations, by Great Britain, Italy, Germany and even far off Russia and Japan. A long wave set for receiving these stations must be able to tune to wave lengths up to 20,000 meters. Differing from the way in which the regenerative action of the short wave sets described in the preceding chapter is secured and which depends on a tickler coil and the coupling action of the detector in this long wave set, [Footnote: All of the short wave and intermediate wave receivers described, are connected up according to the wiring diagram used by the A. H. Grebe Company, Richmond Hill, Long Island, N. Y.] this action is obtained by the use of a tickler coil in the plate circuit which is inductively coupled to the grid circuit and this feeds back the necessary amount of current. This is a very good way to connect up the circuits for the reason that: (1) the wiring is simplified, and (2) it gives a single variable adjustment for the entire range of wave lengths the receptor is intended to cover. The Parts and How to Connect Them Up.--The two chief features as far as the parts are concerned of this long wave length receiving set are (1) the _variable condensers_, and (2) the _tuning inductance coils_. The variable condenser used in series with the aerial wire system has 26 plates and is equal to a capacitance of _.0008 mfd._ which is the normal aerial capacitance. The condenser used in the secondary coil circuit has 14 plates and this is equal to a capacitance of _.0004 mfd_. There are a number of inductance coils and these are arranged so that they can be connected in or cut out and combinations are thus formed which give a high efficiency and yet allow them to be compactly mounted. The inductance coils of the aerial wire system and those of the secondary coil circuit are practically alike. For wave lengths up to 2,200 meters _bank litz-wound coils_ are used and these are wound up in 2, 4 and 6 banks in order to give the proper degree of coupling and inductance values. Where wave lengths of more than 2,200 meters are to be received _coto-coils_ are used as these are the "last word" in inductance coil design, and are especially adapted for medium as well as long wave lengths. [Footnote: Can be had of the Coto Coil Co., Providence, R. I.] These various coils are cut in and out by means of two five-point switches which are provided with auxiliary levers and contactors for _dead-ending_ the right amount of the coils. In cutting in coils for increased wave lengths, that is from 10,000 to 20,000 meters, all of the coils of the aerial are connected in series as well as all of the coils of the secondary circuit. The connections for a long wave receptor are shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 59. [Illustration: Fig. 59.--Wiring Diagram Showing Long Wave Receptor with Variocouplers and Bank-wound Inductance Coils] CHAPTER XIII HETERODYNE OR BEAT LONG WAVE TELEGRAPH RECEIVING SET Any of the receiving sets described in the foregoing chapters will respond to either: (1) a wireless telegraph transmitter that uses a spark gap and which sends out periodic electric waves, or to (2) a wireless telephone transmitter that uses an arc or a vacuum tube oscillator and which sends out continuous electric waves. To receive wireless _telegraph_ signals, however, from a transmitter that uses an arc or a vacuum tube oscillator and which sends out continuous waves, either the transmitter or the receptor must be so constructed that the continuous waves will be broken up into groups of audio frequency and this is done in several different ways. There are four different ways employed at the present time to break up the continuous waves of a wireless telegraph transmitter into groups and these are: (_a_) the _heterodyne_, or _beat_, method, in which waves of different lengths are impressed on the received waves and so produces beats; (_b_) the _tikker_, or _chopper_ method, in which the high frequency currents are rapidly broken up; (_c_) the variable condenser method, in which the movable plates are made to rapidly rotate; (_d_) the _tone wheel_, or _frequency transformer_, as it is often called, and which is really a modified form of and an improvement on the tikker. The heterodyne method will be described in this chapter. What the Heterodyne or Beat Method Is.--The word _heterodyne_ was coined from the Greek words _heteros_ which means _other_, or _different_, and _dyne_ which means _power_; in other words it means when used in connection with a wireless receptor that another and different high frequency current is used besides the one that is received from the sending station. In music a _beat_ means a regularly recurrent swelling caused by the reinforcement of a sound and this is set up by the interference of sound waves which have slightly different periods of vibration as, for instance, when two tones take place that are not quite in tune with each other. This, then, is the principle of the heterodyne, or beat, receptor. In the heterodyne, or beat method, separate sustained oscillations, that are just about as strong as those of the incoming waves, are set up in the receiving circuits and their frequency is just a little higher or a little lower than those that are set up by the waves received from the distant transmitter. The result is that these oscillations of different frequencies interfere and reinforce each other when _beats_ are produced, the period of which is slow enough to be heard in the headphones, hence the incoming signals can be heard only when waves from the sending station are being received. A fuller explanation of how this is done will be found in Chapter XV. The Autodyne or Self-Heterodyne Long-Wave Receiving Set.--This is the simplest type of heterodyne receptor and it will receive periodic waves from spark telegraph transmitters or continuous waves from an arc or vacuum tube telegraph transmitter. In this type of receptor the detector tube itself is made to set up the _heterodyne oscillations_ which interfere with those that are produced by the incoming waves that are a little out of tune with it. With a long wave _autodyne_, or _self-heterodyne_ receptor, as this type is called, and a two-step audio-frequency amplifier you can clearly hear many of the cableless stations of Europe and others that send out long waves. For receiving long wave stations, however, you must have a long aerial--a single wire 200 or more feet in length will do--and the higher it is the louder will be the signals. Where it is not possible to put the aerial up a hundred feet or more above the ground, you can use a lower one and still get messages in _International Morse_ fairly strong. The Parts and Connections of an Autodyne, or Self-Heterodyne, Receiving Set.--For this long wave receiving set you will need: (1) one _variocoupler_ with the primary coil wound on the stator and the secondary coil and tickler coil wound on the rotor, or you can use three honeycomb or other good compact coils of the longest wave you want to receive, a table of which is given in Chapter XII; (2) two _.001 mfd. variable condensers_; (3) one _.0005 mfd. variable condenser_; (4) one _.5 to 2 megohm grid leak resistance_; (5) one _vacuum tube detector_; (6) one _A battery_; (7) one _rheostat_; (8) one _B battery_; (9) one _potentiometer_; (10) one _.001 mfd. fixed condenser_ and (11) one pair of _headphones_. For the two-step amplifier you must, of course, have besides the above parts the amplifier tubes, variable condensers, batteries rheostats, potentiometers and fixed condensers as explained in Chapter IX. The connections for the autodyne, or self-heterodyne, receiving set are shown in Fig. 60. [Illustration: Fig. 60.--Wiring Diagram of Long Wave Antodyne, or Self-Heterodyne Receptor.] The Separate Heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set.--This is a better long wave receptor than the self heterodyne set described above for receiving wireless telegraph signals sent out by a continuous long wave transmitter. The great advantage of using a separate vacuum tube to generate the heterodyne oscillations is that you can make the frequency of the oscillations just what you want it to be and hence you can make it a little higher or a little lower than the oscillations set up by the received waves. The Parts and Connections of a Separate Heterodyne Long Wave Receiving Set.--The parts required for this long wave receiving set are: (1) four honeycomb or other good _compact inductance_ coils of the longest wave length that you want to receive; (2) three _.001 mfd. variable condensers_; (3) one _.0005 mfd. variable condenser_; (4) one _1 megohm grid leak resistance_; (5) one _vacuum tube detector_; (6) one _A battery_; (7) two rheostats; (8) two _B batteries_, one of which is supplied with taps; (9) one _potentiometer_; (10) one _vacuum tube amplifier_, for setting up the heterodyne oscillations; (11) a pair of _headphones_ and (12) all of the parts for a _two-step amplifier_ as detailed in Chapter IX, that is if you are going to use amplifiers. The connections are shown in Fig. 61. [Illustration: Fig. 61.--Wiring Diagram of Long Wave Separate Heterodyne Receiving Set.] In using either of these heterodyne receivers be sure to carefully adjust the B battery by means of the potentiometer. [Footnote: The amplifier tube in this case is used as a generator of oscillations.] CHAPTER XIV HEADPHONES AND LOUD SPEAKERS Wireless Headphones.--A telephone receiver for a wireless receiving set is made exactly on the same principle as an ordinary Bell telephone receiver. The only difference between them is that the former is made flat and compact so that a pair of them can be fastened together with a band and worn on the head (when it is called a _headset_), while the latter is long and cylindrical so that it can be held to the ear. A further difference between them is that the wireless headphone is made as sensitive as possible so that it will respond to very feeble currents, while the ordinary telephone receiver is far from being sensitive and will respond only to comparatively large currents. How a Bell Telephone Receiver Is Made.--An ordinary telephone receiver consists of three chief parts and these are: (1) a hard-rubber, or composition, shell and cap, (2) a permanent steel bar magnet on one end of which is wound a coil of fine insulated copper wire, and (3) a soft iron disk, or _diaphragm_, all of which are shown in the cross-section in Fig. 62. The bar magnet is securely fixed inside of the handle so that the outside end comes to within about 1/32 of an inch of the diaphragm when this is laid on top of the shell and the cap is screwed on. [Illustration: Fig. 62.--Cross-section of Bell telephone Receiver.] [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. Alexander Graham Bell, Inventor of the Telephone, now an ardent Radio Enthusiast.] The ends of the coil of wire are connected with two binding posts which are in the end of the shell, but are shown in the picture at the sides for the sake of clearness. This coil usually has a resistance of about 75 ohms and the meaning of the _ohmic resistance_ of a receiver and its bearing on the sensitiveness of it will be explained a little farther along. After the disk, or diaphragm, which is generally made of thin, soft sheet iron that has been tinned or japanned, [Footnote: A disk of photographic tin-type plate is generally used.] is placed over the end of the magnet, the cap, which has a small opening in it, is screwed on and the receiver is ready to use. How a Wireless Headphone Is Made.--For wireless work a receiver of the watch-case type is used and nearly always two such receivers are connected with a headband. It consists of a permanent bar magnet bent so that it will fit into the shell of the receiver as shown at A in Fig. 63. [Illustration: Fig. 63.--Wireless Headphone.] The ends of this magnet, which are called _poles_, are bent up, and hence this type is called a _bipolar_ receiver. The magnets are wound with fine insulated wire as before and the diaphragm is held securely in place over them by screwing on the cap. About Resistance, Turns of Wire and Sensitivity of Headphones.--If you are a beginner in wireless you will hear those who are experienced speak of a telephone receiver as having a resistance of 75 ohms, 1,000 ohms, 2,000 or 3,000 ohms, as the case may be; from this you will gather that the higher the resistance of the wire on the magnets the more sensitive the receiver is. In a sense this is true, but it is not the resistance of the magnet coils that makes it sensitive, in fact, it cuts down the current, but it is the _number of turns_ of wire on them that determines its sensitiveness; it is easy to see that this is so, for the larger the number of turns the more often will the same current flow round the cores of the magnet and so magnetize them to a greater extent. But to wind a large number of turns of wire close enough to the cores to be effective the wire must be very small and so, of course, the higher the resistance will be. Now the wire used for winding good receivers is usually No. 40, and this has a diameter of .0031 inch; consequently, when you know the ohmic resistance you get an idea of the number of turns of wire and from this you gather in a general way what the sensitivity of the receiver is. A receiver that is sensitive enough for wireless work should be wound to not less than 1,000 ohms (this means each ear phone), while those of a better grade are wound to as high as 3,000 ohms for each one. A high-grade headset is shown in Fig. 64. Each phone of a headset should be wound to the same resistance, and these are connected in series as shown. Where two or more headsets are used with one wireless receiving set they must all be of the same resistance and connected in series, that is, the coils of one head set are connected with the coils of the next head set and so on to form a continuous circuit. [Illustration: Fig. 64.--Wireless Headphone.] The Impedance of Headphones.--When a current is flowing through a circuit the material of which the wire is made not only opposes its passage--this is called its _ohmic resistance_--but a _counter-electromotive force_ to the current is set up due to the inductive effects of the current on itself and this is called _impedance_. Where a wire is wound in a coil the impedance of the circuit is increased and where an alternating current is used the impedance grows greater as the frequency gets higher. The impedance of the magnet coils of a receiver is so great for high frequency oscillations that the latter cannot pass through them; in other words, they are choked off. How the Headphones Work.--As you will see from the cross-sections in Figs. 62 and 63 there is no connection, electrical or mechanical, between the diaphragm and the other parts of the receiver. Now when either feeble oscillations, which have been rectified by a detector, or small currents from a B battery, flow through the magnet coils the permanent steel magnet is energized to a greater extent than when no current is flowing through it. This added magnetic energy makes the magnet attract the diaphragm more than it would do by its own force. If, on the other hand, the current is cut off the pull of the magnet is lessened and as its attraction for the diaphragm is decreased the latter springs back to its original position. When varying currents flow through the coils the diaphragm vibrates accordingly and sends out sound waves. About Loud Speakers.--The simplest acoustic instrument ever invented is the _megaphone_, which latter is a Greek word meaning _great sound_. It is a very primitive device and our Indians made it out of birch-bark before Columbus discovered America. In its simplest form it consists of a cone-shaped horn and as the speaker talks into the small end the concentrated sound waves pass out of the large end in whatever direction it is held. Now a loud speaker of whatever kind consists of two chief parts and these are: (1) a _telephone receiver_, and (2) a _megaphone_, or _horn_ as it is called. A loud speaker when connected with a wireless receiving set makes it possible for a room, or an auditorium, full of people, or an outdoor crowd, to hear what is being sent out by a distant station instead of being limited to a few persons listening-in with headphones. To use a loud speaker you should have a vacuum tube detector receiving set and this must be provided with a one-step amplifier at least. To get really good results you need a two-step amplifier and then energize the plate of the second vacuum tube amplifier with a 100 volt B battery; or if you have a three-step amplifier then use the high voltage on the plate of the third amplifier tube. Amplifying tubes are made to stand a plate potential of 100 volts and this is the kind you must use. Now it may seem curious, but when the current flows through the coils of the telephone receiver in one direction it gives better results than when it flows through in the other direction; to find out the way the current gives the best results try it out both ways and this you can do by simply reversing the connections. The Simplest Type of Loud Speaker.--This loud speaker, which is called, the Arkay, [Footnote: Made by the Riley-Klotz Mfg. Co., Newark, N. J.] will work on a one- or two-step amplifier. It consists of a brass horn with a curve in it and in the bottom there is an adapter, or frame, with a set screw in it so that you can fit in one of your headphones and this is all there is to it. The construction is rigid enough to prevent overtones, or distortion of speech or music. It is shown in Fig. 65. [Illustration: Fig. 65.--Arkay Loud Speaker.] Another Simple Kind of Loud Speaker.--Another loud speaker, see Fig. 66, is known as the _Amplitone_ [Footnote: Made by the American Pattern, Foundry and Machine Co., 82 Church Street, N. Y. C.] and it likewise makes use of the headphones as the sound producer. This device has a cast metal horn which improves the quality of the sound, and all you have to do is to slip the headphones on the inlet tubes of the horn and it is ready for use. The two headphones not only give a longer volume of sound than where a single one is used but there is a certain blended quality which results from one phone smoothing out the imperfections of the other. [Illustration: Fig. 66.--Amplitone Loud Speaker.] A Third Kind of Simple Loud Speaker.--The operation of the _Amplitron_, [Footnote: Made by the Radio Service Co., 110 W. 40th Street, N. Y.] as this loud speaker is called, is slightly different from others used for the same purpose. The sounds set up by the headphone are conveyed to the apex of an inverted copper cone which is 7 inches long and 10 inches in diameter. Here it is reflected by a parabolic mirror which greatly amplifies the sounds. The amplification takes place without distortion, the sounds remaining as clear and crisp as when projected by the transmitting station. By removing the cap from the receiver the shell is screwed into a receptacle on the end of the loud speaker and the instrument is ready for use. It is pictured in Fig. 67. [Illustration: Fig. 67.--Amplitron Loud Speaker.] A Super Loud Speaker.--This loud speaker, which is known as the _Magnavox Telemegafone_, was the instrument used by Lt. Herbert E. Metcalf, 3,000 feet in the air, and which startled the City of Washington on April 2, 1919, by repeating President Wilson's _Victory Loan Message_ from an airplane in flight so that it was distinctly heard by 20,000 people below. This wonderful achievement was accomplished through the installation of the _Magnavox_ and amplifiers in front of the Treasury Building. Every word Lt. Metcalf spoke into his wireless telephone transmitter was caught and swelled in volume by the _Telemegafones_ below and persons blocks away could hear the message plainly. Two kinds of these loud speakers are made and these are: (1) a small loud speaker for the use of operators so that headphones need not be worn, and (2) a large loud speaker for auditorium and out-door audiences. [Illustration: original © Underwood and Underwood. World's Largest Loud Speaker ever made. Installed in Lytle Park, Cincinnati, Ohio, to permit President Harding's Address at Point Pleasant, Ohio, during the Grant Centenary Celebration to be heard within a radius of one square.] Either kind may be used with a one- or two-step amplifier or with a cascade of half a dozen amplifiers, according to the degree of loudness desired. The _Telemegafone_ itself is not an amplifier in the true sense inasmuch as it contains no elements which will locally increase the incoming current. It does, however, transform the variable electric currents of the wireless receiving set into sound vibrations in a most wonderful manner. A _telemegafone_ of either kind is formed of: (1) a telephone receiver of large proportions, (2) a step-down induction coil, and (3) a 6 volt storage battery that energizes a powerful electromagnet which works the diaphragm. An electromagnet is used instead of a permanent magnet and this is energized by a 6-volt storage battery as shown in the wiring diagram at A in Fig. 68. One end of the core of this magnet is fixed to the iron case of the speaker and together these form the equivalent of a horseshoe magnet. A movable coil of wire is supported from the center of the diaphragm the edge of which is rigidly held between the case and the small end of the horn. This coil is placed over the upper end of the magnet and its terminals are connected to the secondary of the induction coil. Now when the coil is energized by the current from the amplifiers it and the core act like a solenoid in that the coil tends to suck the core into it; but since the core is fixed and the coil is movable the core draws the coil down instead. The result is that with every variation of the current that flows through the coil it moves up and down and pulls and pushes the diaphragm down and up with it. The large amplitude of the vibrations of the latter set up powerful sound waves which can be heard several blocks away from the horn. In this way then are the faint incoming signals, speech and music which are received by the amplifying receiving set reproduced and magnified enormously. The _Telemegafone_ is shown complete at B. [Illustration: Fig. 68.--Magnavox Loud Speaker.] CHAPTER XV OPERATION OF VACUUM TUBE RECEPTORS From the foregoing chapters you have seen that the vacuum tube can be used either as a _detector_ or an _amplifier_ or as a _generator_ of electric oscillations, as in the case of the heterodyne receiving set. To understand how a vacuum tube acts as a detector and as an amplifier you must first know what _electrons_ are. The way in which the vacuum tube sets up sustained oscillations will be explained in Chapter XVIII in connection with the _Operation of Vacuum Tube Transmitters_. What Electrons Are.--Science teaches us that masses of matter are made up of _molecules_, that each of these is made up of _atoms_, and each of these, in turn, is made up of a central core of positive particles of electricity surrounded by negative particles of electricity as shown in the schematic diagram, Fig. 69. The little black circles inside the large circle represent _positive particles of electricity_ and the little white circles outside of the large circle represent _negative particles of electricity_, or _electrons_ as they are called. [Illustration: Fig. 69.--Schematic Diagram of an Atom.] It is the number of positive particles of electricity an atom has that determines the kind of an element that is formed when enough atoms of the same kind are joined together to build it up. Thus hydrogen, which is the lightest known element, has one positive particle for its nucleus, while uranium, the heaviest element now known, has 92 positive particles. Now before leaving the atom please note that it is as much smaller than the diagram as the latter is smaller than our solar system. What Is Meant by Ionization.--A hydrogen atom is not only lighter but it is smaller than the atom of any other element while an electron is more than a thousand times smaller than the atom of which it is a part. Now as long as all of the electrons remain attached to the surface of an atom its positive and negative charges are equalized and it will, therefore, be neither positive nor negative, that is, it will be perfectly neutral. When, however, one or more of its electrons are separated from it, and there are several ways by which this can be done, the atom will show a positive charge and it is then called a _positive ion_. In other words a _positive ion_ is an atom that has lost some of its negative electrons while a _negative ion_ is one that has acquired some additional negative _electrons_. When a number of electrons are being constantly given by the atoms of an element, which let us suppose is a metal, and are being attracted to atoms of another element, which we will say is also a metal, a flow of electrons takes place between the two oppositely charged elements and form a current of negative electricity as represented by the arrows at A in Fig. 70. [Illustration: Fig. 70.--Action of Two-electrode Vacuum Tube.] When a stream of electrons is flowing between two metal elements, as a filament and a plate in a vacuum tube detector, or an amplifier, they act as _carriers_ for more negative electrons and these are supplied by a battery as we shall presently explain. It has always been customary for us to think of a current of electricity as flowing from the positive pole of a battery to the negative pole of it and hence we have called this the _direction of the current_. Since the electronic theory has been evolved it has been shown that the electrons, or negative charges of electricity, flow from the negative to the positive pole and that the ionized atoms, which are more positive than negative, flow in the opposite direction as shown at B. How Electrons are Separated from Atoms.--The next question that arises is how to make a metal throw off some of the electrons of the atoms of which it is formed. There are several ways that this can be done but in any event each atom must be given a good, hard blow. A simple way to do this is to heat a metal to incandescence when the atoms will bombard each other with terrific force and many of the electrons will be knocked off and thrown out into the surrounding space. But all, or nearly all, of them will return to the atoms from whence they came unless a means of some kind is employed to attract them to the atoms of some other element. This can be done by giving the latter piece of metal a positive charge. If now these two pieces of metal are placed in a bulb from which the air has been exhausted and the first piece of metal is heated to brilliancy while the second piece of metal is kept positively electrified then a stream of electrons will flow between them. Action of the Two Electrode Vacuum Tube.--Now in a vacuum tube detector a wire filament, like that of an incandescent lamp, is connected with a battery and this forms the hot element from which the electrons are thrown off, and a metal plate with a terminal wire secured to it is connected to the positive or carbon tap of a dry battery; now connect the negative or zinc tap of this with one end of a telephone receiver and the other end of this with the terminals of the filament as shown at A in Fig. 71. If now you heat the filament and hold the phone to your ear you can hear the current from the B battery flowing through the circuit. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 71.--How a Two Electrode Tube Acts as a Relay or a Detector.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 71.--Only the Positive Part of Oscillations Goes through the Tube.] Since the electrons are negative charges of electricity they are not only thrown off by the hot wire but they are attracted by the positive charged metal plate and when enough electrons pass, or flow, from the hot wire to the plate they form a conducting path and so complete the circuit which includes the filament, the plate and the B or plate battery, when the current can then flow through it. As the number of electrons that are thrown off by the filament is not great and the voltage of the plate is not high the current that flows between the filament and the plate is always quite small. How the Two Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector.--As the action of a two electrode tube as a detector [Footnote: The three electrode vacuum tube has entirely taken the place of the two electrode type.] is simpler than that of the three electrode vacuum tube we shall describe it first. The two electrode vacuum tube was first made by Mr. Edison when he was working on the incandescent lamp but that it would serve as a detector of electric waves was discovered by Prof. Fleming, of Oxford University, London. As a matter of fact, it is not really a detector of electric waves, but it acts as: (1) a _rectifier_ of the oscillations that are set up in the receiving circuits, that is, it changes them into pulsating direct currents so that they will flow through and affect a telephone receiver, and (2) it acts as a _relay_ and the feeble received oscillating current controls the larger direct current from the B battery in very much the same way that a telegraph relay does. This latter relay action will be explained when we come to its operation as an amplifier. We have just learned that when the stream of electrons flow from the hot wire to the cold positive plate in the tube they form a conducting path through which the battery current can flow. Now when the electric oscillations surge through the closed oscillation circuit, which includes the secondary of the tuning coil, the variable condenser, the filament and the plate as shown at B in Fig. 71 the positive part of them passes through the tube easily while the negative part cannot get through, that is, the top, or positive, part of the wave-form remains intact while the lower, or negative, part is cut off as shown in the diagram at C. As the received oscillations are either broken up into wave trains of audio frequency by the telegraph transmitter or are modulated by a telephone transmitter they carry the larger impulses of the direct current from the B battery along with them and these flow through the headphones. This is the reason the vacuum tube amplifies as well as detects. How the Three Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector.--The vacuum tube as a detector has been made very much more sensitive by the use of a third electrode shown in Fig. 72. In this type of vacuum tube the third electrode, or _grid_, is placed between the filament and the plate and this controls the number of electrons flowing from the filament to the plate; in passing between these two electrodes they have to go through the holes formed by the grid wires. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 72.--How the Positive and Negative Voltages of Oscillations Act on the Electrons.] [Illustration: (C) Fig. 72.--How the Three Electrode Tube Acts as a Detector and Amplifier.] [Illustration: (D) Fig. 72.--How the Oscillations Control the Flow of the Battery Current through the Tube.] If now the grid is charged to a higher _negative_ voltage than the filament the electrons will be stopped by the latter, see A, though some of them will go through to the plate because they travel at a high rate of speed. The higher the negative charge on the grid the smaller will be the number of electrons that will reach the plate and, of course, the smaller will be the amount of current that will flow through the tube and the headphones from the B battery. On the other hand if the grid is charged _positively_, see B, then more electrons will strike the plate than when the grid is not used or when it is negatively charged. But when the three electrode tube is used as a detector the oscillations set up in the circuits change the grid alternately from negative to positive as shown at C and hence the voltage of the B battery current that is allowed to flow through the detector from the plate to the filament rises and falls in unison with the voltage of the oscillating currents. The way the positive and negative voltages of the oscillations which are set up by the incoming waves, energize the grid; how the oscillator tube clips off the negative parts of them, and, finally, how these carry the battery current through the tube are shown graphically by the curves at D. How the Vacuum Tube Acts as an Amplifier.--If you connect up the filament and the plate of a three electrode tube with the batteries and do not connect in the grid, you will find that the electrons which are thrown off by the filament will not get farther than the grid regardless of how high the voltage is that you apply to the plate. This is due to the fact that a large number of electrons which are thrown off by the filament strike the grid and give it a negative charge, and consequently, they cannot get any farther. Since the electrons do not reach the plate the current from the B battery cannot flow between it and the filament. Now with a properly designed amplifier tube a very small negative voltage on the grid will keep a very large positive voltage on the plate from sending a current through the tube, and oppositely, a very small positive voltage on the grid will let a very large plate current flow through the tube; this being true it follows that any small variation of the voltage from positive to negative on the grid and the other way about will vary a large current flowing from the plate to the filament. In the Morse telegraph the relay permits the small current that is received from the distant sending station to energize a pair of magnets, and these draw an armature toward them and close a second circuit when a large current from a local battery is available for working the sounder. The amplifier tube is a variable relay in that the feeble currents set up by the incoming waves constantly and proportionately vary a large current that flows through the headphones. This then is the principle on which the amplifying tube works. The Operation of a Simple Vacuum Tube Receiving Set.--The way a simple vacuum tube detector receiving set works is like this: when the filament is heated to brilliancy it gives off electrons as previously described. Now when the electric waves impinge on the aerial wire they set up oscillations in it and these surge through the primary coil of the loose coupled tuning coil, a diagram of which is shown at B in Fig. 41. The energy of these oscillations sets up oscillations of the same frequency in the secondary coil and these high frequency currents whose voltage is first positive and then negative, surge in the closed circuit which includes the secondary coil and the variable condenser. At the same time the alternating positive and negative voltage of the oscillating currents is impressed on the grid; at each change from + to - and back again it allows the electrons to strike the plate and then shuts them off; as the electrons form the conducting path between the filament and the plate the larger direct current from the B battery is permitted to flow through the detector tube and the headphones. Operation of a Regenerative Vacuum Tube Receiving Set.--By feeding back the pulsating direct current from the B battery through the tickler coil it sets up other and stronger oscillations in the secondary of the tuning coil when these act on the detector tube and increase its sensitiveness to a remarkable extent. The regenerative, or _feed back_, action of the receiving circuits used will be easily understood by referring back to B in Fig. 47. When the waves set up oscillations in the primary of the tuning coil the energy of them produces like oscillations in the closed circuit which includes the secondary coil and the condenser; the alternating positive and negative voltages of these are impressed on the grid and these, as we have seen before, cause similar variations of the direct current from the B battery which acts on the plate and which flows between the latter and the filament. This varying direct current, however, is made to flow back through the third, or tickler coil of the tuning coil and sets up in the secondary coil and circuits other and larger oscillating currents and these augment the action of the oscillations produced by the incoming waves. These extra and larger currents which are the result of the feedback then act on the grid and cause still larger variations of the current in the plate voltage and hence of the current of the B battery that flows through the detector and the headphones. At the same time the tube keeps on responding to the feeble electric oscillations set up in the circuits by the incoming waves. This regenerative action of the battery current augments the original oscillations many times and hence produce sounds in the headphones that are many times greater than where the vacuum tube detector alone is used. Operation of Autodyne and Heterodyne Receiving Sets.--On page 109 [Chapter VII] we discussed and at A in Fig. 36 is shown a picture of two tuning forks mounted on sounding boxes to illustrate the principle of electrical tuning. When a pair of these forks are made to vibrate exactly the same number of times per second there will be a condensation of the air between them and the sound waves that are sent out will be augmented. But if you adjust one of the forks so that it will vibrate 256 times a second and the other fork so that it will vibrate 260 times a second then there will be a phase difference between the two sets of waves and the latter will augment each other 4 times every second and you will hear these rising and falling sounds as _beats_. Now electric oscillations set up in two circuits that are coupled together act in exactly the same way as sound waves produced by two tuning forks that are close to each other. Since this is true if you tune one of the closed circuits so that the oscillations in it will have a frequency of a 1,000,000 and tune the other circuit so that the oscillations in it have a frequency of 1,001,000 a second then the oscillations will augment each other 1,000 times every second. As these rising and falling currents act on the pulsating currents from the B battery which flow through the detector tube and the headphones you will hear them as beats. A graphic representation of the oscillating currents set up by the incoming waves, those produced by the heterodyne oscillator and the beats they form is shown in Fig. 73. To produce these beats a receptor can use: (1) a single vacuum tube for setting up oscillations of both frequencies when it is called an _autodyne_, or _self-heterodyne_ receptor, or (2) a separate vacuum tube for setting up the oscillations for the second circuit when it is called a _heterodyne_ receptor. [Illustration: Fig. 73.--How the Heterodyne Receptor Works.] The Autodyne, or Self-Heterodyne Receiving Set.--Where only one vacuum tube is used for producing both frequencies you need only a regenerative, or feed-back receptor; then you can tune the aerial wire system to the incoming waves and tune the closed circuit of the secondary coil so that it will be out of step with the former by 1,000 oscillations per second, more or less, the exact number does not matter in the least. From this you will see that any regenerative set can be used for autodyne, or self-heterodyne, reception. The Separate Heterodyne Receiving Set.--The better way, however, is to use a separate vacuum tube for setting up the heterodyne oscillations. The latter then act on the oscillations that are produced by the incoming waves and which energize the grid of the detector tube. Note that the vacuum tube used for producing the heterodyne oscillations is a _generator_ of electric oscillations; the latter are impressed on the detector circuits through the variable coupling, the secondary of which is in series with the aerial wire as shown in Fig. 74. The way in which the tube acts as a generator of oscillations will be told in Chapter XVIII. [Illustration: Fig. 74.--Separate Heterodyne Oscillator.] CHAPTER XVI CONTINUOUS WAVE TELEGRAPH TRANSMITTING SETS WITH DIRECT CURRENT In the first part of this book we learned about spark-gap telegraph sets and how the oscillations they set up are _damped_ and the waves they send out are _periodic_. In this and the next chapter we shall find out how vacuum tube telegraph transmitters are made and how they set up oscillations that are _sustained_ and radiate waves that are _continuous_. Sending wireless telegraph messages by continuous waves has many features to recommend it as against sending them by periodic waves and among the most important of these are that the transmitter can be: (1) more sharply tuned, (2) it will send signals farther with the same amount of power, and (3) it is noiseless in operation. The disadvantageous features are that: (1) a battery current is not satisfactory, (2) its circuits are somewhat more complicated, and (3) the oscillator tubes burn out occasionally. There is, however, a growing tendency among amateurs to use continuous wave transmitters and they are certainly more up-to-date and interesting than spark gap sets. Now there are two practical ways by which continuous waves can be set up for sending either telegraphic signals or telephonic speech and music and these are with: (a) an _oscillation arc lamp_, and (b) a _vacuum tube oscillator_. The oscillation arc was the earliest known way of setting up sustained oscillations, and it is now largely used for commercial high power, long distance work. But since the vacuum tube has been developed to a high degree of efficiency and is the scheme that is now in vogue for amateur stations we shall confine our efforts here to explaining the apparatus necessary and how to wire the various parts together to produce several sizes of vacuum tube telegraph transmitters. Sources of Current for Telegraph Transmitting Sets.--Differing from a spark-gap transmitter you cannot get any appreciable results with a low voltage battery current to start with. For a purely experimental vacuum tube telegraph transmitter you can use enough B batteries to operate it but the current strength of these drops so fact when they are in use, that they are not at all satisfactory for the work. You can, however, use 110 volt direct current from a lighting circuit as your initial source of power to energize the plate of the vacuum tube oscillator of your experimental transmitter. Where you have a 110 volt _direct current_ lighting service in your home and you want a higher voltage for your plate, you will then have to use a motor-generator set and this costs money. If you have 110 volt _alternating current_ lighting service at hand your troubles are over so far as cost is concerned for you can step it up to any voltage you want with a power transformer. In this chapter will be shown how to use a direct current for your source of initial power and in the next chapter how to use an alternating current for the initial power. An Experimental Continuous Wave Telegraph Transmitter.--You will remember that in Chapter XV we learned how the heterodyne receiver works and that in the separate heterodyne receiving set the second vacuum tube is used solely to set up oscillations. Now while this extra tube is used as a generator of oscillations these are, of course, very weak and hence a detector tube cannot be used to generate oscillations that are useful for other purposes than heterodyne receptors and measurements. There is a vacuum tube amplifier [Footnote: This is the _radiation_ UV-201, made by the Radio Corporation of America, Woolworth Bldg., New York City.] made that will stand a plate potential of 100 volts, and this can be used as a generator of oscillations by energizing it with a 110 volt direct current from your lighting service. Or in a pinch you can use five standard B batteries to develop the plate voltage, but these will soon run down. But whatever you do, never use a current from a lighting circuit on a tube of any kind that has a rated plate potential of less than 100 volts. The Apparatus You Need.--For this experimental continuous wave telegraph transmitter get the following pieces of apparatus: (1) one _single coil tuner with three clips_; (2) one _.002 mfd. fixed condenser_; (3) three _.001 mfd. condensers_; (4) one _adjustable grid leak_; (5) one _hot-wire ammeter_; (6) one _buzzer_; (7) one _dry cell_; (8) one _telegraph key_; (9) one _100 volt plate vacuum tube amplifier_; (10) one _6 volt storage battery_; (11) one _rheostat_; (12) one _oscillation choke coil_; (13) one _panel cut-out_ with a _single-throw, double-pole switch_, and a pair of _fuse sockets_ on it. The Tuning Coil.--You can either make this tuning coil or buy one. To make it get two disks of wood 3/4-inch thick and 5 inches in diameter and four strips of hard wood, or better, hard rubber or composition strips, such as _bakelite_, 1/2-inch thick, 1 inch wide and 5-3/4 inches long, and screw them to the disks as shown at A in Fig. 75. Now wrap on this form about 25 turns of No. 8 or 10, Brown and Sharpe gauge, bare copper wire with a space of 1/8-inch between each turn. Get three of the smallest size terminal clips, see B, and clip them on to the different turns, when your tuning coil is ready for use. You can buy a coil of this kind for $4.00 or $5.00. The Condensers.--For the aerial series condenser get one that has a capacitance of .002 mfd. and that will stand a potential of 3,000 volts. [Footnote: The U C-1014 _Faradon_ condenser made by the Radio Corporation of America will serve the purpose.] It is shown at C. The other three condensers, see D, are also of the fixed type and may have a capacitance of .001 mfd.; [Footnote: List No. 266; fixed receiving condenser, sold by the Manhattan Electrical Supply Co.] the blocking condenser should preferably have a capacitance of 1/2 a mfd. In these condensers the leaves of the sheet metal are embedded in composition. The aerial condenser will cost you $2.00 and the others 75 cents each. [Illustration: (A) Fig. 75.--Apparatus for Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.] [Illustration: Fig. 75.--Apparatus for Experimental C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.] The Aerial Ammeter.--This instrument is also called a _hot-wire_ ammeter because the oscillating currents flowing through a piece of wire heat it according to their current strength and as the wire contracts and expands it moves a needle over a scale. The ammeter is connected in the aerial wire system, either in the aerial side or the ground side--the latter place is usually the most convenient. When you tune the transmitter so that the ammeter shows the largest amount of current surging in the aerial wire system you can consider that the oscillation circuits are in tune. A hot-wire ammeter reading to 2.5 amperes will serve your needs, it costs $6.00 and is shown at E in Fig. 75. [Illustration: United States Naval High Power Station, Arlington Va. General view of Power Room. At the left can be seen the Control Switchboards, and overhead, the great 30 K.W. Arc Transmitter with Accessories.] The Buzzer and Dry Cell.--While a heterodyne, or beat, receptor can receive continuous wave telegraph signals an ordinary crystal or vacuum tube detector receiving set cannot receive them unless they are broken up into trains either at the sending station or at the receiving station, and it is considered the better practice to do this at the former rather than at the latter station. For this small transmitter you can use an ordinary buzzer as shown at F. A dry cell or two must be used to energize the buzzer. You can get one for about 75 cents. The Telegraph Key.--Any kind of a telegraph key will serve to break up the trains of sustained oscillations into dots and dashes. The key shown at G is mounted on a composition base and is the cheapest key made, costing $1.50. The Vacuum Tube Oscillator.--As explained before you can use any amplifying tube that is made for a plate potential of 100 volts. The current required for heating the filament is about 1 ampere at 6 volts. A porcelain socket should be used for this tube as it is the best insulating material for the purpose. An amplifier tube of this type is shown at H and costs $6.50. The Storage Battery.--A storage battery is used to heat the filament of the tube, just as it is with a detector tube, and it can be of any make or capacity as long as it will develop 6 volts. The cheapest 6 volt storage battery on the market has a 20 to 40 ampere-hour capacity and sells for $13.00. The Battery Rheostat.--As with the receptors a rheostat is needed to regulate the current that heats the filament. A rheostat of this kind is shown at I and is listed at $1.25. The Oscillation Choke Coil.--This coil is connected in between the oscillation circuits and the source of current which feeds the oscillator tube to keep the oscillations set up by the latter from surging back into the service wires where they would break down the insulation. You can make an oscillation choke coil by winding say 100 turns of No. 28 Brown and Sharpe gauge double cotton covered magnet wire on a cardboard cylinder 2 inches in diameter and 2-1/2 inches long. Transmitter Connectors.--For connecting up the different pieces of apparatus of the transmitter it is a good scheme to use _copper braid_; this is made of braided copper wire in three sizes and sells for 7,15 and 20 cents a foot respectively. A piece of it is pictured at J. The Panel Cut-Out.--This is used to connect the cord of the 110-volt lamp socket with the transmitter. It consists of a pair of _plug cutouts and a single-throw, double-pole_ switch mounted on a porcelain base as shown at K. In some localities it is necessary to place these in an iron box to conform to the requirements of the fire underwriters. Connecting Up the Transmitting Apparatus.--The way the various pieces of apparatus are connected together is shown in the wiring diagram. Fig. 76. Begin by connecting one post of the ammeter with the wire that leads to the aerial and the other post of it to one end of the tuning coil; connect clip _1_ to one terminal of the .002 mfd. 3,000 volt aerial condenser and the other post of this with the ground. [Illustration: Fig. 76--Experimental C.W. Telegraph Transmitter] Now connect the end of the tuning coil that leads to the ammeter with one end of the .001 mfd. grid condenser and the other end of this with the grid of the vacuum tube. Connect the telegraph key, the buzzer and the dry cell in series and then shunt them around the grid condenser. Next connect the plate of the tube with one end of the .001 mfd. blocking condenser and the other end of this with the clip _2_ on the tuning coil. Connect one end of the filament with the + or positive electrode of the storage battery, the - or negative electrode of this with one post of the rheostat and the other post of the latter with the other end of the filament; then connect clip _3_ with the + or positive side of the storage battery. This done connect one end of the choke coil to the conductor that leads to the plate and connect the other end of the choke coil to one of the taps of the switch on the panel cut-out. Connect the + or positive electrode of the storage battery to the other switch tap and between the switch and the choke coil connect the protective condenser across the 110 volt feed wires. Finally connect the lamp cord from the socket to the plug fuse taps when your experimental continuous wave telegraph transmitter is ready to use. A 100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.--Here is a continuous wave telegraph transmitter that will cover distances up to 100 miles that you can rely on. It is built on exactly the same lines as the experimental transmitter just described, but instead of using a 100 volt plate amplifier as a makeshift generator of oscillations it employs a vacuum tube made especially for setting up oscillations and instead of having a low plate voltage it is energized with 350 volts. The Apparatus You Need.--For this transmitter you require: (1) one _oscillation transformer_; (2) one _hot-wire ammeter_; (3) one _aerial series condenser_; (4) one _grid leak resistance_; (5) one _chopper_; (6) one _key circuit choke coil_; (7) one _5 watt vacuum tube oscillator_; (8) one _6 volt storage battery_; (9) one _battery rheostat_; (10) one _battery voltmeter_; (11) one _blocking condenser_; (12) one _power circuit choke coil_, and (13) one _motor-generator_. The Oscillation Transformer.--The tuning coil, or _oscillation transformer_ as this one is called, is a conductively coupled tuner--that is, the primary and secondary coils form one continuous coil instead of two separate coils. This tuner is made up of 25 turns of thin copper strip, 3/8 inch wide and with its edges rounded, and this is secured to a wood base as shown at A in Fig. 77. It is fitted with one fixed tap and three clips to each of which a length of copper braid is attached. It has a diameter of 6-1/4 inches, a height of 7-7/8 inches and a length of 9-3/8 inches, and it costs $11.00. [Illustration: Fig. 77.--Apparatus of 100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.] The Aerial Condenser.--This condenser is made up of three fixed condensers of different capacitances, namely .0003, .0004 and .0005 mfd., and these are made to stand a potential of 7500 volts. The condenser is therefore adjustable and, as you will see from the picture B, it has one terminal wire at one end and three terminal wires at the other end so that one, two or three condensers can be used in series with the aerial. A condenser of this kind costs $5.40. The Aerial Ammeter.--This is the same kind of a hot-wire ammeter already described in connection with the experimental set, but it reads to 5 amperes. The Grid and Blocking Condensers.--Each of these is a fixed condenser of .002 mfd. capacitance and is rated to stand 3,000 volts. It is made like the aerial condenser but has only two terminals. It costs $2.00. The Key Circuit Apparatus.--This consists of: (1) the _grid leak_; (2) the _chopper_; (3) the _choke coil_, and (4) the _key_. The grid leak is connected in the lead from the grid to the aerial to keep the voltage on the grid at the right potential. It has a resistance of 5000 ohms with a mid-tap at 2500 ohms as shown at C. It costs $2.00. The chopper is simply a rotary interrupter driven by a small motor. It comprises a wheel of insulating material in which 30 or more metal segments are set in an insulating disk as shown at D. A metal contact called a brush is fixed on either side of the wheel. It costs about $7.00 and the motor to drive it is extra. The choke coil is wound up of about 250 turns of No. 30 Brown and Sharpe gauge cotton covered magnet wire on a spool which has a diameter of 2 inches and a length of 3-1/4 inches. The 5 Watt Oscillator Vacuum Tube.--This tube is made like the amplifier tube described for use with the preceding experimental transmitter, but it is larger, has a more perfect vacuum, and will stand a plate potential of 350 volts while the plate current is .045 ampere. The filament takes a current of a little more than 2 amperes at 7.5 volts. A standard 4-tap base is used with it. The tube costs $8.00 and the porcelain base is $1.00 extra. It is shown at E. The Storage Battery and Rheostat.--This must be a 5-cell battery so that it will develop 10 volts. A storage battery of any capacity can be used but the lowest priced one costs about $22.00. The rheostat for regulating the battery current is the same as that used in the preceding experimental transmitter. The Filament Voltmeter.--To get the best results it is necessary that the voltage of the current which heats the filament be kept at the same value all of the time. For this transmitter a direct current voltmeter reading from 0 to 15 volts is used. It is shown at F and costs $7.50. The Oscillation Choke Coil.--This is made exactly like the one described in connection with the experimental transmitter. The Motor-Generator Set.--Where you have only a 110 or a 220 volt direct current available as a source of power you need a _motor-generator_ to change it to 350 volts, and this is an expensive piece of apparatus. It consists of a single armature core with a motor winding and a generator winding on it and each of these has its own commutator. Where the low voltage current flows into one of the windings it drives its as a motor and this in turn generates the higher voltage current in the other winding. Get a 100 watt 350 volt motor-generator; it is shown at F and costs about $75.00. The Panel Cut-Out.--This switch and fuse block is the same as that used in the experimental set. The Protective Condenser.--This is a fixed condenser having a capacitance of 1 mfd. and will stand 750 volts. It costs $2.00. Connecting Up the Transmitting Apparatus.--From all that has gone before you have seen that each piece of apparatus is fitted with terminal, wires, taps or binding posts. To connect up the parts of this transmitter it is only necessary to make the connections as shown in the wiring diagram Fig. 78. [Illustration: Fig. 78.--5 to 50 Watt C. W. Telegraph Transmitter. (With Single Oscillation Tube.)] A 200 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.--To make a continuous wave telegraph transmitter that will cover distances up to 200 miles all you have to do is to use two 5 watt vacuum tubes in _parallel_, all of the rest of the apparatus being exactly the same. Connecting the oscillator tubes up in parallel means that the two filaments are connected across the leads of the storage battery, the two grids on the same lead that goes to the aerial and the two plates on the same lead that goes to the positive pole of the generator. Where two or more oscillator tubes are used only one storage battery is needed, but each filament must have its own rheostat. The wiring diagram Fig. 79 shows how the two tubes are connected up in parallel. [Illustration: Fig. 79.--200 Mile C.W. Telegraph Transmitter (With Two Tubes in Parallel.)] A 500 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.--For sending to distances of over 200 miles and up to 500 miles you can use either: (1) three or four 5 watt oscillator tubes in parallel as described above, or (2) one 50 watt oscillator tube. Much of the apparatus for a 50 watt tube set is exactly the same as that used for the 5 watt sets. Some of the parts, however, must be proportionately larger though the design all the way through remains the same. The Apparatus and Connections.--The aerial series condenser, the blocking condenser, the grid condenser, the telegraph key, the chopper, the choke coil in the key circuit, the filament voltmeter and the protective condenser in the power circuit are identical with those described for the 5 watt transmitting set. The 50 Watt Vacuum Tube Oscillator.--This is the size of tube generally used by amateurs for long distance continuous wave telegraphy. A single tube will develop 2 to 3 amperes in your aerial. The filament takes a 10 volt current and a plate potential of 1,000 volts is needed. One of these tubes is shown in Fig. 80 and the cost is $30.00. A tube socket to fit it costs $2.50 extra. [Illustration: Fig. 80.--50 Watt Oscillator Vacuum Tube.] The Aerial Ammeter.--This should read to 5 amperes and the cost is $6.25. The Grid Leak Resistance.--It has the same resistance, namely 5,000 ohms as the one used with the 5 watt tube transmitter, but it is a little larger. It is listed at $1.65. The Oscillation Choke Coil.--The choke coil in the power circuit is made of about 260 turns of No. 30 B. & S. cotton covered magnet wire wound on a spool 2-1/4 inches in diameter and 3-1/4 inches long. The Filament Rheostat.--This is made to take care of a 10 volt current and it costs $10.00. The Filament Storage Battery.--This must develop 12 volts and one having an output of 40 ampere-hours costs about $25.00. The Protective Condenser.--This condenser has a capacitance of 1 mfd. and costs $2.00. The Motor-Generator.--Where you use one 50 watt oscillator tube you will need a motor-generator that develops a plate potential of 1000 volts and has an output of 200 watts. This machine will stand you about $100.00. The different pieces of apparatus for this set are connected up exactly the same as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 78. A 1000 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.--All of the parts of this transmitting set are the same as for the 500 mile transmitter just described except the motor generator and while this develops the same plate potential, i.e., 1,000 volts, it must have an output of 500 watts; it will cost you in the neighborhood of $175.00. For this long distance transmitter you use two 50 watt oscillator tubes in parallel and all of the parts are connected together exactly the same as for the 200 mile transmitter shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 79. CHAPTER XVII CONTINUOUS WAVE TELEGRAPH TRANSMITTING SETS WITH ALTERNATING CURRENT Within the last few years alternating current has largely taken the place of direct current for light, heat and power purposes in and around towns and cities and if you have alternating current service in your home you can install a long distance continuous wave telegraph transmitter with very little trouble and at a comparatively small expense. A 100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set.--The principal pieces of apparatus for this transmitter are the same as those used for the _100 Mile Continuous Wave Telegraph Transmitting Set_ described and pictured in the preceding chapter which used direct current, except that an _alternating current power transformer_ is employed instead of the more costly _motor-generator_. The Apparatus Required.--The various pieces of apparatus you will need for this transmitting set are: (1) one _hot-wire ammeter_ for the aerial as shown at E in Fig. 75, but which reads to 5 amperes instead of to 2.5 amperes; (2) one _tuning coil_ as shown at A in Fig. 77; (3) one aerial condenser as shown at B in Fig. 77; (4) one _grid leak_ as shown at C in Fig. 77; (5) one _telegraph key_ as shown at G in Fig. 75; (6) one _grid condenser_, made like the aerial condenser but having only two terminals; (7) one _5 watt oscillator tube_ as shown at E in Fig. 77; (8) one _.002 mfd. 3,000 volt by-pass condenser_, made like the aerial and grid condensers; (9) one pair of _choke coils_ for the high voltage secondary circuit; (10) one _milli-ammeter_; (11) one A. C. _power transformer_; (12) one _rheostat_ as shown at I in Fig. 75, and (13) one _panel cut-out_ as shown at K in Fig. 75. The Choke Coils.--Each of these is made by winding about 100 turns of No. 28, Brown and Sharpe gauge, cotton covered magnet wire on a spool 2 inches in diameter and 2-1/2 inches long, when it will have an inductance of about 0.5 _millihenry_ [Footnote: A millihenry is 1/1000th part of a henry.] at 1,000 cycles. The Milli-ammeter.--This is an alternating current ammeter and reads from 0 to 250 _milliamperes_; [Footnote: A _milliampere_ is the 1/1000th part of an ampere.] and is used for measuring the secondary current that energizes the plate of the oscillator tube. It looks like the aerial ammeter and costs about $7.50. The A. C. Power Transformer.--Differing from the motor generator set the power transformer has no moving parts. For this transmitting set you need a transformer that has an input of 325 volts. It is made to work on a 50 to 60 cycle current at 102.5 to 115 volts, which is the range of voltage of the ordinary alternating lighting current. This adjustment for voltage is made by means of taps brought out from the primary coil to a rotary switch. The high voltage secondary coil which energizes the plate has an output of 175 watts and develops a potential of from 350 to 1,100 volts. The low voltage secondary coil which heats the filament has an output of 175 watts and develops 7.5 volts. This transformer, which is shown in Fig. 81, is large enough to take care of from one to four 5 watt oscillator tubes. It weighs about 15 pounds and sells for $25.00. [Illustration: Fig. 81.--Alternation Current Power Transformer. (For C. W. Telegraphy and Wireless Telephony.)] [Illustration: The Transformer and Tuner of the World's Largest Radio Station. Owned by the Radio Corporation of America at Rocky Point near Port Jefferson L.I.] Connecting Up the Apparatus.--The wiring diagram Fig. 82 shows clearly how all of the connections are made. It will be observed that a storage battery is not needed as the secondary coil of the transformer supplies the current to heat the filament of the oscillator. The filament voltmeter is connected across the filament secondary coil terminals, while the plate milli-ammeter is connected to the mid-taps of the plate secondary coil and the filament secondary coil. [Illustration: Fig. 82. Wiring Diagram for 200 to 500 Mile C.W. Telegraph Transmitting Set. (With Alternating Current)] A 200 to 500 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set.--Distances of from 200 to 500 miles can be successfully covered with a telegraph transmitter using two, three or four 5 watt oscillator tubes in parallel. The apparatus needed is identical with that used for the 100 mile transmitter just described. The tubes are connected in parallel as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 83. [Illustration: Fig. 83.--Wiring Diagram for 500 to 1000 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter.] A 500 to 1,000 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set.--With the apparatus described for the above set and a single 50 watt oscillator tube a distance of upwards of 500 miles can be covered, while with two 50 watt oscillator tubes in parallel you can cover a distance of 1,000 miles without difficulty, and nearly 2,000 miles have been covered with this set. The Apparatus Required.--All of the apparatus for this C. W. telegraph transmitting set is the same as that described for the 100 and 200 mile sets but you will need: (1) one or two _50 watt oscillator tubes with sockets;_ (2) one _key condenser_ that has a capacitance of 1 mfd., and a rated potential of 1,750 volts; (3) one _0 to 500 milli-ammeter_; (4) one _aerial ammeter_ reading to 5 amperes, and (5) an _A. C. power transformer_ for one or two 50 watt tubes. [Illustration: Broadcasting Government Reports by Wireless from Washington. This shows Mr. Gale at work with his set in the Post Office Department.] The Alternating Current Power Transformer.--This power transformer is made exactly like the one described in connection with the preceding 100 mile transmitter and pictured in Fig. 81, but it is considerably larger. Like the smaller one, however, it is made to work with a 50 to 60 cycle current at 102.5 to 115 volts and, hence, can be used with any A. C. lighting current. It has an input of 750 volts and the high voltage secondary coil which energizes the plate has an output of 450 watts and develops 1,500 to 3,000 volts. The low voltage secondary coil which heats the filament develops 10.5 volts. This transformer will supply current for one or two 50-watt oscillator tubes and it costs about $40.00. Connecting Up the Apparatus.--Where a single oscillator tube is used the parts are connected as shown in Fig. 82, and where two tubes are connected in parallel the various pieces of apparatus are wired together as shown in Fig. 83. The only difference between the 5 watt tube transmitter and the 50 watt tube transmitter is in the size of the apparatus with one exception; where one or two 50 watt tubes are used a second condenser of large capacitance (1 mfd.) is placed in the grid circuit and the telegraph key is shunted around it as shown in the diagram Fig. 83. CHAPTER XVIII WIRELESS TELEPHONE TRANSMITTING SETS WITH DIRECT AND ALTERNATING CURRENTS In time past the most difficult of all electrical apparatus for the amateur to make, install and work was the wireless telephone. This was because it required a _direct current_ of not less than 500 volts to set up the sustained oscillations and all ordinary direct current for lighting purposes is usually generated at a potential of 110 volts. Now as you know it is easy to _step-up_ a 110 volt alternating current to any voltage you wish with a power transformer but until within comparatively recent years an alternating current could not be used for the production of sustained oscillations for the very good reason that the state of the art had not advanced that far. In the new order of things these difficulties have all but vanished and while a wireless telephone transmitter still requires a high voltage direct current to operate it this is easily obtained from 110 volt source of alternating current by means of _vacuum tube rectifiers_. The pulsating direct currents are then passed through a filtering reactance coil, called a _reactor_, and one or more condensers, and these smooth them out until they approximate a continuous direct current. The latter is then made to flow through a vacuum tube oscillator when it is converted into high frequency oscillations and these are _varied_, or _modulated_, as it is called, by a _microphone transmitter_ such as is used for ordinary wire telephony. The energy of these sustained modulated oscillations is then radiated into space from the aerial in the form of electric waves. The distance that can be covered with a wireless telephone transmitter is about one-fourth as great as that of a wireless telegraph transmitter having the same input of initial current, but it is long enough to satisfy the most enthusiastic amateur. For instance with a wireless telephone transmitter where an amplifier tube is used to set up the oscillations and which is made for a plate potential of 100 volts, distances up to 10 or 15 miles can be covered. With a single 5 watt oscillator tube energized by a direct current of 350 volts from either a motor-generator or from a power transformer (after it has been rectified and smoothed out) speech and music can be transmitted to upwards of 25 miles. Where two 5 watt tubes connected in parallel are used wireless telephone messages can be transmitted to distances of 40 or 50 miles. Further, a single 50 watt oscillator tube will send to distances of 50 to 100 miles while two of these tubes in parallel will send from 100 to 200 miles. Finally, where four or five oscillator tubes are connected in parallel proportionately greater distances can be covered. A Short Distance Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set-With 110 Volt Direct Lighting Current.--For this very simple, short distance wireless telephone transmitting set you need the same apparatus as that described and pictured in the beginning of Chapter XVI for a _Short Distance C. W. Telegraph Transmitter_, except that you use a _microphone transmitter_ instead of a _telegraph key_. If you have a 110 volt direct lighting current in your home you can put up this short distance set for very little money and it will be well worth your while to do so. The Apparatus You Need.--For this set you require: (1) one _tuning coil_ as shown at A and B in Fig. 75; (2) one _aerial ammeter_ as shown at C in Fig. 75; (3) one _aerial condenser_ as shown at C in Fig. 75; (4) one _grid, blocking and protective condenser_ as shown at D in Fig. 75; (5) one _grid leak_ as shown at C in Fig. 77; (6) one _vacuum tube amplifier_ which is used as an _oscillator_; (7) one _6 volt storage battery_; (8) one _rheostat_ as shown at I in Fig. 75; (9) one _oscillation choke coil_; (10) one _panel cut-out_ as shown at K in Fig. 75 and an ordinary _microphone transmitter_. The Microphone Transmitter.--The best kind of a microphone to use with this and other telephone transmitting sets is a _Western Electric No. 284-W_. [Footnote: Made by the Western Electric Company, Chicago, Ill.] This is known as a solid back transmitter and is the standard commercial type used on all long distance Bell telephone lines. It articulates sharply and distinctly and there are no current variations to distort the wave form of the voice and it will not buzz or sizzle. It is shown in Fig. 84 and costs $2.00. Any other good microphone transmitter can be used if desired. [Illustration: Fig. 84.--Standard Microphone Transmitter.] Connecting Up the Apparatus.--Begin by connecting the leading-in wire with one of the terminals of the microphone transmitter, as shown in the wiring diagram Fig. 85, and the other terminal of this to one end of the tuning coil. Now connect _clip 1_ of the tuning coil to one of the posts of the hot-wire ammeter, the other post of this to one end of aerial condenser and, finally, the other end of the latter with the water pipe or other ground. The microphone can be connected in the ground wire and the ammeter in the aerial wire and the results will be practically the same. [Illustration: Fig. 85.--Wiring Diagram of Short Distance Wireless Telephone Set. (Microphone in Aerial Wire.)] Next connect one end of the grid condenser to the post of the tuning coil that makes connection with the microphone and the other end to the grid of the tube, and then shunt the grid leak around the condenser. Connect the + or _positive_ electrode of the storage battery with one terminal of the filament of the vacuum tube, the other terminal of the filament with one post of the rheostat and the other post of this with the - or _negative_ electrode of the battery. This done, connect _clip 2_ of the tuning coil to the + or _positive_ electrode of the battery and bring a lead from it to one of the switch taps of the panel cut-out. Now connect _clip 3_ of the tuning coil with one end of the blocking condenser, the other end of this with one terminal of the choke coil and the other terminal of the latter with the other switch tap of the cut-out. Connect the protective condenser across the direct current feed wires between the panel cut-out and the choke coil. Finally connect the ends of a lamp cord to the fuse socket taps of the cut-out, and connect the other ends to a lamp plug and screw it into the lamp socket of the feed wires. Screw in a pair of 5 ampere _fuse plugs_, close the switch and you are ready to tune the transmitter and talk to your friends. A 25 to 50 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator.--Where you have to start with 110 or 220 volt direct current and you want to transmit to a distance of 25 miles or more you will have to install a _motor-generator_. To make this transmitter you will need exactly the same apparatus as that described and pictured for the _100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set_ in Chapter XVI, except that you must substitute a _microphone transmitter_ and a _telephone induction coil_, or a _microphone transformer_, or still better, a _magnetic modulator_, for the telegraph key and chopper. The Apparatus You Need.--To reiterate; the pieces of apparatus you need are: (1) one _aerial ammeter_ as shown at E in Fig. 75; (2) one _tuning coil_ as shown at A in Fig. 77; (3) one _aerial condenser_ as shown at B in Fig. 77; (4) one _grid leak_ as shown at C in Fig. 77; (5) one _grid, blocking_ and _protective condenser_; (6) one _5 watt oscillator tube_ as shown at E in Fig. 77; (7) one _rheostat_ as shown at I in Fig. 75; (8) one _10 volt (5 cell) storage battery_; (9) one _choke coil_; (10) one _panel cut-out_ as shown at K in Fig. 75, and (11) a _motor-generator_ having an input of 110 or 220 volts and an output of 350 volts. In addition to the above apparatus you will need: (12) a _microphone transmitter_ as shown in Fig. 84; (13) a battery of four dry cells or a 6 volt storage battery, and either (14) a _telephone induction coil_ as shown in Fig. 86; (15) a _microphone transformer_ as shown in Fig. 87; or a _magnetic modulator_ as shown in Fig. 88. All of these parts have been described, as said above, in Chapter XVI, except the microphone modulators. [Illustration: Fig. 86.--Telephone Induction Coil. (Used with Microphone Transmitter.)] [Illustration: Fig. 87.--Microphone Transformer. (Used with Microphone Transmitter.)] [Illustration: Fig. 88.--Magnetic Modulator. (Used with Microphone Transmitter.)] The Telephone Induction Coil.--This is a little induction coil that transforms the 6-volt battery current after it has flowed through and been modulated by the microphone transmitter into alternating currents that have a potential of 1,000 volts of more. It consists of a primary coil of _No. 20 B. and S._ gauge cotton covered magnet wire wound on a core of soft iron wires while around the primary coil is wound a secondary coil of _No. 30_ magnet wire. Get a _standard telephone induction coil_ that has a resistance of 500 or 750 ohms and this will cost you a couple of dollars. The Microphone Transformer.--This device is built on exactly the same principle as the telephone induction coil just described but it is more effective because it is designed especially for modulating the oscillations set up by vacuum tube transmitters. As with the telephone induction coil, the microphone transmitter is connected in series with the primary coil and a 6 volt dry or storage battery. In the better makes of microphone transformer, there is a third winding, called a _side tone_ coil, to which a headphone can be connected so that the operator who is speaking into the microphone can listen-in and so learn if his transmitter is working up to standard. The Magnetic Modulator.--This is a small closed iron core transformer of peculiar design and having a primary and a secondary coil wound on it. This device is used to control the variations of the oscillating currents that are set up by the oscillator tube. It is made in three sizes and for the transmitter here described you want the smallest size, which has an output of 1/2 to 1-1/2 amperes. It costs about $10.00. How the Apparatus Is Connected Up.--The different pieces of apparatus are connected together in exactly the same way as the _100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Set_ in Chapter XVI except that the microphone transmitter and microphone modulator (whichever kind you use) is substituted for the telegraph key and chopper. Now there are three different ways that the microphone and its modulator can be connected in circuit. Two of the best ways are shown at A and B in Fig. 89. In the first way the secondary terminals of the modulator are shunted around the grid leak in the grid circuit as at A, and in the second the secondary terminals are connected in the aerial as at B. Where an induction coil or a microphone transformer is used they are shunted around a condenser, but this is not necessary with the magnetic modulator. Where a second tube is used as in Fig. 90 then the microphone and its modulator are connected with the grid circuit and _clip 3_ of the tuning coil. [Illustration: Fig. 89.--Wiring Diagram of 25 to 50 Mile Wireless Telephone. (Microphone Modulator Shunted Around Grid-Leak Condenser.)] [Illustration: (B) Fig. 89.--Microphone Modulator Connected in Aerial Wire.] [Illustration: Fig. 90.--Wiring Diagram of 50 to 100 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set.] A 50 to 100 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator.--As the initial source of current available is taken to be a 110 or 220 volt direct current a motor-generator having an output of 350 volts must be used as before. The only difference between this transmitter and the preceding one is that: (1) two 5 watt tubes are used, the first serving as an _oscillator_ and the second as a _modulator_; (2) an _oscillation choke coil_ is used in the plate circuit; (3) a _reactance coil_ or _reactor_, is used in the plate circuit; and (4) a _reactor_ is used in the grid circuit. The Oscillation Choke Coil.--You can make this choke coil by winding about 275 turns of _No. 28 B. and S. gauge_ cotton covered magnet wire on a spool 2 inches in diameter and 4 inches long. Give it a good coat of shellac varnish and let it dry thoroughly. The Plate and Grid Circuit Reactance Coils.--Where a single tube is used as an oscillator and a second tube is employed as a modulator, a _reactor_, which is a coil of wire wound on an iron core, is used in the plate circuit to keep the high voltage direct current of the motor-generator the same at all times. Likewise the grid circuit reactor is used to keep the voltage of the grid at a constant value. These reactors are made alike and a picture of one of them is shown in Fig. 91 and each one will cost you $5.75. [Illustration: Fig. 91.--Plate and Grid Circuit Reactor.] Connecting up the Apparatus.--All of the different pieces of apparatus are connected up as shown in Fig. 89. One of the ends of the secondary of the induction coil, or the microphone transformer, or the magnetic modulator is connected to the grid circuit and the other end to _clip 3_ of the tuning coil. A 100 to 200 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter--With Direct Current Motor Generator.--By using the same connections shown in the wiring diagrams in Fig. 89 and a single 50 watt oscillator tube your transmitter will then have a range of 100 miles or so, while if you connect up the apparatus as shown in Fig. 90 and use two 50 watt tubes you can work up to 200 miles. Much of the apparatus for a 50 watt oscillator set where either one or two tubes are used is of the same size and design as that just described for the 5 watt oscillator sets, but, as in the C. W. telegraph sets, some of the parts must be proportionately larger. The required parts are (1) the _50 watt tube_; (2) the _grid leak resistance_; (3) the _filament rheostat_; (4) the _filament storage battery_; and (5) the _magnetic modulator_. All of these parts, except the latter, are described in detail under the heading of a _500 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Set_ in Chapter XVI, and are also pictured in that chapter. It is not advisable to use an induction coil for the modulator for this set, but use, instead, either a telephone transformer, or better, a magnetic modulator of the second size which has an output of from 1-1/2 to 3-1/2 amperes. The magnetic modulator is described and pictured in this chapter. A 50 to 100 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 110 Volt Alternating Current.--If you have a 110 volt [Footnote: Alternating current for lighting purposes ranges from 102.5 volts to 115 volts, so we take the median and call it 110 volts.] alternating current available you can use it for the initial source of energy for your wireless telephone transmitter. The chief difference between a wireless telephone transmitting set that uses an alternating current and one that uses a direct current is that: (1) a _power transformer_ is used for stepping up the voltage instead of a motor-generator, and (2) a _vacuum tube rectifier_ must be used to convert the alternating current into direct current. The Apparatus You Need.--For this telephone transmitting set you need: (1) one _aerial ammeter_; (2) one _tuning coil_; (3) one _telephone modulator_; (4) one _aerial series condenser_; (5) one _4 cell dry battery_ or a 6 volt storage battery; (6) one _microphone transmitter_; (7) one _battery switch_; (8) one _grid condenser_; (9) one _grid leak_; (10) two _5 watt oscillator tubes with sockets_; (11) one _blocking condenser_; (12) one _oscillation choke coil_; (13) two _filter condensers_; (14) one _filter reactance coil_; (15) an _alternating current power transformer_, and (16) two _20 watt rectifier vacuum tubes_. All of the above pieces of apparatus are the same as those described for the _100 Mile C. W. Telegraph Transmitter_ in Chapter XVII, except: (a) the _microphone modulator_; (b) the _microphone transmitter_ and (c) the _dry_ or _storage battery_, all of which are described in this chapter; and the new parts which are: (d) the _rectifier vacuum tubes_; (e) the _filter condensers_; and (f) the _filter reactance coil_; further and finally, the power transformer has a _third_ secondary coil on it and it is this that feeds the alternating current to the rectifier tubes, which in turn converts it into a pulsating direct current. The Vacuum Tube Rectifier.--This rectifier has two electrodes, that is, it has a filament and a plate like the original vacuum tube detector, The smallest size rectifier tube requires a plate potential of 550 volts which is developed by one of the secondary coils of the power transformer. The filament terminal takes a current of 7.5 volts and this is supplied by another secondary coil of the transformer. This rectifier tube delivers a direct current of 20 watts at 350 volts. It looks exactly like the 5 watt oscillator tube which is pictured at E in Fig. 77. The price is $7.50. The Filter Condensers.--These condensers are used in connection with the reactance coil to smooth out the pulsating direct current after it has passed through the rectifier tube. They have a capacitance of 1 mfd. and will stand 750 volts. These condensers cost about $2.00 each. The Filter Reactance Coil.--This reactor which is shown in Fig. 92, has about the same appearance as the power transformer but it is somewhat smaller. It consists of a coil of wire wound on a soft iron core and has a large inductance, hence the capacitance of the filter condensers are proportionately smaller than where a small inductance is used which has been the general practice. The size you require for this set has an output of 160 milliamperes and it will supply current for one to four 5 watt oscillator tubes. This size of reactor costs $11.50. [Illustration: Fig. 92.--Filter Reactor for Smoothing out Rectified Currents.] Connecting Up the Apparatus.--The wiring diagram in Fig. 93 shows how the various pieces of apparatus for this telephone transmitter are connected up. You will observe: (1) that the terminals of the power transformer secondary coil which develops 10 volts are connected to the filaments of the oscillator tubes; (2) that the terminals of the other secondary coil which develops 10 volts are connected with the filaments of the rectifier tubes; (3) that the terminals of the third secondary coil which develops 550 volts are connected with the plates of the rectifier tubes; (4) that the pair of filter condensers are connected in parallel and these are connected to the mid-taps of the two filament secondary coils; (5) that the reactance coil and the third filter condenser are connected together in series and these are shunted across the filter condensers, which are in parallel; and, finally, (6) a lead connects the mid-tap of the 550-volt secondary coil of the power transformer with the connection between the reactor and the third filter condenser. [Illustration: Fig 93.--100 to 200 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitter.] A 100 to 200 Mile Wireless Telephone Transmitting Set--With 110 Volt Alternating Current.--This telephone transmitter is built up of exactly the same pieces of apparatus and connected up in precisely the same way as the one just described and shown in Fig. 93. Apparatus Required.--The only differences between this and the preceding transmitter are: (1) the _magnetic modulator_, if you use one, should have an output of 3-1/2 to 5 amperes; (2) you will need two _50 watt oscillator tubes with sockets_; (3) two _150 watt rectifier tubes with sockets_; (4) an _aerial ammeter_ that reads to _5 amperes_; (5) three _1 mfd. filter condensers_ in parallel; (6) _two filter condensers of 1 mfd. capacitance_ that will stand _1750 volts_; and (6) a _300 milliampere filter reactor_. The apparatus is wired up as shown in Fig. 93. CHAPTER XIX THE OPERATION OF VACUUM TUBE TRANSMITTERS The three foregoing chapters explained in detail the design and construction of (1) two kinds of C. W. telegraph transmitters, and (2) two kinds of wireless telephone transmitters, the difference between them being whether they used (A) a direct current, or (B) an alternating current as the initial source of energy. Of course there are other differences between those of like types as, for instance, the apparatus and connections used (_a_) in the key circuits, and (_b_) in the microphone circuits. But in all of the transmitters described of whatever type or kind the same fundamental device is used for setting up sustained oscillations and this is the _vacuum tube_. The Operation of the Vacuum Tube Oscillator.--The operation of the vacuum tube in producing sustained oscillations depends on (1) the action of the tube as a valve in setting up the oscillations in the first place and (2) the action of the grid in amplifying the oscillations thus set up, both of which we explained in Chapter XIV. In that chapter it was also pointed out that a very small change in the grid potential causes a corresponding and larger change in the amount of current flowing from the plate to the filament; and that if a vacuum tube is used for the production of oscillations the initial source of current must have a high voltage, in fact the higher the plate voltage the more powerful will be the oscillations. To understand how oscillations are set up by a vacuum tube when a direct current is applied to it, take a look at the simple circuits shown in Fig. 94. Now when you close the switch the voltage from the battery charges the condenser and keeps it charged until you open it again; the instant you do this the condenser discharges through the circuit which includes it and the inductance coil, and the discharge of a condenser is always oscillatory. [Illustration: (A) and (B) Fig. 94. Operation of Vacuum Tube Oscillators.] Where an oscillator tube is included in the circuits as shown at A and B in Fig. 94, the grid takes the place of the switch and any slight change in the voltage of either the grid or the plate is sufficient to start a train of oscillations going. As these oscillations surge through the tube the positive parts of them flow from the plate to the filament and these carry more of the direct current with them. To make a tube set up powerful oscillations then, it is only necessary that an oscillation circuit shall be provided which will feed part of the oscillations set up by the tube back to the grid circuit and when this is done the oscillations will keep on being amplified until the tube reaches the limit of its output. [Illustration: (C) Fig. 94.--How a Direct Current Sets up Oscillations.] The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters With Direct Current--Short Distance C. W. Transmitter.--In the transmitter shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 76 the positive part of the 110 volt direct current is carried down from the lamp socket through one side of the panel cut-out, thence through the choke coil and to the plate of the oscillator tube, when the latter is charged to the positive sign. The negative part of the 110 volt direct current then flows down the other wire to the filament so that there is a difference of potential between the plate and the filament of 110 volts. Now when the 6-volt battery current is switched on the filament is heated to brilliancy, and the electrons thrown off by it form a conducting path between it and the plate; the 110 volt current then flows from the latter to the former. Now follow the wiring from the plate over to the blocking condenser, thence to _clip 3_ of the tuning coil, through the turns of the latter to _clip 2_ and over to the filament and, when the latter is heated, you have a _closed oscillation circuit_. The oscillations surging in the latter set up other and like oscillations in the tuning coil between the end of which is connected with the grid, the aerial and the _clip 2_, and these surge through the circuit formed by this portion of the coil, the grid condenser and the filament; this is the amplifying circuit and it corresponds to the regenerative circuit of a receiving set. When oscillations are set up in it the grid is alternately charged to the positive and negative signs. These reversals of voltage set up stronger and ever stronger oscillations in the plate circuit as before explained. Not only do the oscillations surge in the closed circuits but they run to and fro on the aerial wire when their energy is radiated in the form of electric waves. The oscillations are varied by means of the telegraph key which is placed in the grid circuit as shown in Fig. 76. The Operation of the Key Circuit.--The effect in a C. W. transmitter when a telegraph key is connected in series with a buzzer and a battery and these are shunted around the condenser in the grid circuit, is to rapidly change the wave form of the sustained oscillations, and hence, the length of the waves that are sent out. While no sound can be heard in the headphones at the receiving station so long as the points of the key are not in contact, when they are in contact the oscillations are modulated and sounds are heard in the headphones that correspond to the frequency of the buzzer in the key circuit. The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Direct Current.--The chief differences between the long distance sets which use a direct current, i.e., those described in Chapter XVI, and the short distance transmitting sets are that the former use: (1) a motor-generator set for changing the low voltage direct current into high voltage direct current, and (2) a chopper in the key circuit. The way the motor-generator changes the low- into high-voltage current has been explained in Chapter XVI. The chopper interrupts the oscillations surging through the grid circuit at a frequency that the ear can hear, that is to say, about 800 to 1,000 times per second. When the key is open, of course, the sustained oscillations set up in the circuits will send out continuous waves but when the key is closed these oscillations are broken up and then they send out discontinuous waves. If a heterodyne receiving set, see Chapter XV, is being used at the other end you can dispense with the chopper and the key circuit needed is very much simplified. The operation of key circuits of the latter kind will be described presently. The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Alternating Current--With a Single Oscillator Tube.--Where an oscillator tube telegraph transmitter is operated by a 110 volt alternating current as the initial source of energy, a buzzer, chopper or other interruptor is not needed in the key circuit. This is because oscillations are set up only when the plate is energized with the positive part of the alternating current and this produces an intermittent musical tone in the headphones. Hence this kind of a sending set is called a _tone transmitter_. Since oscillations are set up only by the positive part or voltage of an alternating current it is clear that, as a matter of fact, this kind of a transmitter does not send out continuous waves and therefore it is not a C. W. transmitter. This is graphically shown by the curve of the wave form of the alternating current and the oscillations that are set up by the positive part of it in Fig. 95. Whenever the positive half of the alternating current energizes the plate then oscillations are set up by the tube and, conversely, when the negative half of the current charges the plate no oscillations are produced. [Illustration: Fig. 95.--Positive Voltage only sets up Oscillations.] You will also observe that the oscillations set up by the positive part of the current are not of constant amplitude but start at zero the instant the positive part begins to energize the plate and they keep on increasing in amplitude as the current rises in voltage until the latter reaches its maximum; then as it gradually drops again to zero the oscillations decrease proportionately in amplitude with it. Heating the Filament with Alternating Current.--Where an alternating current power transformer is used to develop the necessary plate voltage a second secondary coil is generally provided for heating the filament of the oscillation tube. This is better than a direct current for it adds to the life of the filament. When you use an alternating current to heat the filament keep it at the same voltage rather than at the same amperage (current strength). To do this you need only to use a voltmeter across the filament terminals instead of an ammeter in series with it; then regulate the voltage of the filament with a rheostat. The Operation of C. W. Telegraph Transmitters with Alternating Current--With Two Oscillator Tubes.--By using two oscillator tubes and connecting them up with the power transformer and oscillating circuits as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 83 the plates are positively energized alternately with every reversal of the current and, consequently, there is no time period between the ending of the oscillations set up by one tube and the beginning of the oscillations set up by the other tube. In other words these oscillations are sustained but as in the case of those of a single tube, their amplitude rises and falls. This kind of a set is called a _full wave rectification transmitter_. The waves radiated by this transmitter can be received by either a crystal detector or a plain vacuum-tube detector but the heterodyne receptor will give you better results than either of the foregoing types. The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Direct Current--Short Distance Transmitter.--The operation of this short distance wireless telephone transmitter, a wiring diagram of which is shown in Fig. 85 is exactly the same as that of the _Direct Current Short Distance C. W. Telegraph Transmitter_ already explained in this chapter. The only difference in the operation of these sets is the substitution of the _microphone transmitter_ for the telegraph key. The Microphone Transmitter.--The microphone transmitter that is used to vary, or modulate, the sustained oscillations set up by the oscillator tube and circuits is shown in Fig. 84. By referring to the diagram at A in this figure you will readily understand how it operates. When you speak into the mouthpiece the _sound waves_, which are waves in the air, impinge upon the diaphragm and these set it into vibration--that is, they make it move to and fro. When the diaphragm moves toward the back of the transmitter it forces the carbon granules that are in the cup closer together; this lowers their resistance and allows more current from the battery to flow through them; when the pressure of the air waves is removed from the diaphragm it springs back toward the mouth-piece and the carbon granules loosen up when the resistance offered by them is increased and less current can flow through them. Where the oscillation current in the aerial wire is small the transmitter can be connected directly in series with the latter when the former will surge through it. As you speak into the microphone transmitter its resistance is varied and the current strength of the oscillations is varied accordingly. The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Direct Current--Long Distance Transmitters.--In the wireless telephone transmitters for long distance work which were shown and described in the preceding chapter a battery is used to energize the microphone transmitter, and these two elements are connected in series with a _microphone modulator_. This latter device may be either (1) a _telephone induction coil_, (2) a _microphone transformer_, or (3) a _magnetic modulator_; the first two of these devices step-up the voltage of the battery current and the amplified voltage thus developed is impressed on the oscillations that surge through the closed oscillation circuit or the aerial wire system according to the place where you connect it. The third device works on a different principle and this will be described a little farther along. The Operation of Microphone Modulators--The Induction Coil.--This device is really a miniature transformer, see A in Fig. 86, and its purpose is to change the 6 volt direct current that flows through the microphone into 100 volts alternating current; in turn, this is impressed on the oscillations that are surging in either (1) the grid circuit as shown at A in Fig. 89, and in Fig. 90, (2) the aerial wire system, as shown at B in Fig. 89 and Fig. 93. When the current from the battery flows through the primary coil it magnetizes the soft iron core and as the microphone varies the strength of the current the high voltage alternating currents set up in the secondary coil of the induction coil are likewise varied, when they are impressed upon and modulate the oscillating currents. The Microphone Transformer.--This is an induction coil that is designed especially for wireless telephone modulation. The iron core of this transformer is also of the open magnetic circuit type, see A in Fig. 87, and the _ratio_ of the turns [Footnote: See Chapter VI] of the primary and the secondary coil is such that when the secondary current is impressed upon either the grid circuit or the aerial wire system it controls the oscillations flowing through it with the greatest efficiency. The Magnetic Modulator.--This piece of apparatus is also called a _magnetic amplifier_. The iron core is formed of very thin plates, or _laminations_ as they are called, and this permits high-frequency oscillations to surge in a coil wound on it. In this transformer, see A in Fig. 88, the current flowing through the microphone varies the magnetic permeability of the soft iron core by the magnetic saturation of the latter. Since the microphone current is absolutely distinct from the oscillating currents surging through the coil of the transformer a very small direct current flowing through a coil on the latter will vary or modulate very large oscillating currents surging through the former. It is shown connected in the aerial wire system at A in Fig. 88, and in Fig. 93. Operation of the Vacuum Tube as a Modulator.--Where a microphone modulator of the induction coil or microphone transformer type is connected in the grid circuit or aerial wire system the modulation is not very effective, but by using a second tube as a _modulator_, as shown in Fig. 90, an efficient degree of modulation can be had. Now there are two methods by which a vacuum tube can be used as a modulator and these are: (1) by the _absorption_ of the energy of the current set up by the oscillator tube, and (2) by _varying_ the direct current that energizes the plate of the oscillator tube. The first of these two methods is not used because it absorbs the energy of the oscillating current produced by the tube and it is therefore wasteful. The second method is an efficient one, as the direct current is varied before it passes into the oscillator tube. This is sufficient reason for describing only the second method. The voltage of the grid of the modulator tube is varied by the secondary coil of the induction coil or microphone transformer, above described. In this way the modulator tube acts like a variable resistance but it amplifies the variations impressed on the oscillations set up by the oscillator tube. As the magnetic modulator does the same thing a vacuum tube used as a modulator is not needed where the former is employed. For this reason a magnetic modulator is the cheapest in the long run. The Operation of Wireless Telephone Transmitters with Alternating Current.--Where an initial alternating current is used for wireless telephony, the current must be rectified first and then smoothed out before passing into the oscillator tube to be converted into oscillations. Further so that the oscillations will be sustained, two oscillator tubes must be used, and, finally, in order that the oscillations may not vary in amplitude the alternating current must be first changed into direct current by a pair of rectifier vacuum tubes, as shown in Fig. 93. When this is done the plates will be positively charged alternately with every reversal of the current in which case there will be no break in the continuity of the oscillations set up and therefore in the waves that are sent out. The Operation of Rectifier Vacuum Tubes.--The vacuum tube rectifier is simply a two electrode vacuum tube. The way in which it changes a commercial alternating current into pulsating direct current is the same as that in which a two electrode vacuum tube detector changes an oscillating current into pulsating direct currents and this has been explained in detail under the heading of _The Operation of a Two Electrode Vacuum Tube Detector_ in Chapter XII. In the _C. W. Telegraph Transmitting Sets_ described in Chapter XVII, the oscillator tubes act as rectifiers as well as oscillators but for wireless telephony the alternating current must be rectified first so that a continuous direct current will result. The Operation of Reactors and Condensers.--A reactor is a single coil of wire wound on an iron core, see Fig. 90 and A in Fig. 91, and it should preferably have a large inductance. The reactor for the plate and grid circuit of a wireless telephone transmitter where one or more tubes are used as modulators as shown in the wiring diagram in Fig. 90, and the filter reactor shown in Fig. 92, operate in the same way. When an alternating current flows through a coil of wire the reversals of the current set up a _counter electromotive force_ in it which opposes, that is _reacts_, on the current, and the _higher_ the frequency of the current the _greater_ will be the _reactance_. When the positive half of an alternating current is made to flow through a large resistance the current is smoothed out but at the same time a large amount of its energy is used up in producing heat. But when the positive half of an alternating current is made to flow through a large inductance it acts like a large resistance as before and likewise smooths out the current, but none of its energy is wasted in heat and so a coil having a large inductance, which is called an _inductive reactance_, or just _reactor_ for short, is used to smooth out, or filter, the alternating current after it has been changed into a pulsating direct current by the rectifier tubes. A condenser also has a reactance effect on an alternating current but different from an induction coil the _lower_ the frequency the _greater_ will be the reactance. For this reason both a filter reactor and _filter condensers_ are used to smooth out the pulsating direct currents. CHAPTER XX HOW TO MAKE A RECEIVING SET FOR $5.00 OR LESS In the chapters on _Receptors_ you have been told how to build up high-grade sets. But there are thousands of boys, and, probably, not a few men, who cannot afford to invest $25.00, more or less, in a receiving set and would like to experiment in a small way. The following set is inexpensive, and with this cheap, little portable receptor you can get the Morse code from stations a hundred miles distant and messages and music from broadcasting stations if you do not live too far away from them. All you need for this set are: (1) a _crystal detector_, (2) a _tuning coil_ and (3) an _earphone_. You can make a crystal detector out of a couple of binding posts, a bit of galena and a piece of brass wire, or, better, you can buy one all ready to use for 50 cents. [Illustration: Wireless Receptor, the size of a Safety Match Box. A Youthful Genius in the person of Kenneth R. Hinman, Who is only twelve years old, has made a Wireless Receiving Set that fits neatly into a Safety Match Box. With this Instrument and a Pair of Ordinary Receivers, He is able to catch not only Code Messages but the regular Broadcasting Programs from Stations Twenty and Thirty Miles Distant.] The Crystal Detector.--This is known as the _Rasco baby_ detector and it is made and sold by the _Radio Specialty Company_, 96 Park Place, New York City. It is shown in Fig. 96. The base is made of black composition and on it is mounted a standard in which a rod slides and on one end of this there is fixed a hard rubber adjusting knob while the other end carries a thin piece of _phosphor-bronze wire_, called a _cat-whisker_. To secure the galena crystal in the cup you simply unscrew the knurled cap, place it in the cavity of the post and screw the cap back on again. The free end of the cat-whisker wire is then adjusted so that it will rest lightly on the exposed part of the galena. [Illustration: Fig. 96.--Rasco Baby Crystal Detector.] The Tuning Coil.--You will have to make this tuning coil, which you can do at a cost of less than $1.00, as the cheapest tuning coil you can buy costs at least $3.00, and we need the rest of our $5.00 to invest in the earphone. Get a cardboard tube, such as is used for mailing purposes, 2 inches in diameter and 3 inches long, see A in Fig. 97. Now wind on 250 turns of _No. 40 Brown and Sharpe gauge plain enameled magnet wire_. You can use _No. 40 double cotton covered magnet wire_, in which case you will have to shellac the tube and the wire after you get it on. [Illustration: Fig. 97.--How the Tuning Coil is Made.] As you wind on the wire take off a tap at every 15th turn, that is, scrape the wire and solder on a piece about 7 inches long, as shown in Fig. 99; and do this until you have 6 taps taken off. Instead of leaving the wires outside of the tube bring them to the inside of it and then out through one of the open ends. Now buy a _round wood-base switch_ with 7 contact points on it as shown at B in Fig. 97. This will cost you 25 or 50 cents. The Headphone.--An ordinary Bell telephone receiver is of small use for wireless work as it is wound to too low a resistance and the diaphragm is much too thick. If you happen to have a Bell phone you can rewind it with _No. 40_ single covered silk magnet wire, or enameled wire of the same size, when its sensitivity will be very greatly improved. Then you must get a thin diaphragm and this should _not_ be enameled, as this tends to dampen the vibrations of it. You can get a diaphragm of the right kind for 5 cents. The better way, though, is to buy an earphone made especially for wireless work. You can get one wound to 1000 ohms resistance for $1.75 and this price includes a cord. [Footnote: This is Mesco, No. 470 wireless phone. Sold by the Manhattan Electrical Supply Co., Park Place, N.Y.C.] For $1.00 extra you can get a head-band for it, and then your phone will look like the one pictured in Fig. 98. [Illustration: Fig. 98.--Mesco 1000 Ohm Head Set.] How to Mount the Parts.--Now mount the coil on a wood base, 1/2 or 1 inch thick, 3-1/2 inches wide and 5-1/2 inches long, and then connect one end of the coil to one of the end points on the switch, and connect each succeeding tap to one of the switch points, as shown schematically in Fig. 99 and diagrammatically in Fig. 100. This done, screw the switch down to the base. Finally screw the detector to the base and screw two binding posts in front of the coil. These are for the earphone. [Illustration: Fig. 99.--Schematic Layout of $5.00 Receiving Set.] [Illustration: Fig. 100.--Wiring Diagram for $5.00 Receiving Set.] The Condenser.--You do not have to connect a condenser across the earphone but if you do you will improve the receiving qualities of the receptor. How to Connect Up the Receptor.--Now connect up all the parts as shown in Figs. 99 and 100, then connect the leading-in wire of the aerial with the lever of the switch; and connect the free end of the tuning coil with the _ground_. If you have no aerial wire try hooking it up to a rain pipe that is _not grounded_ or the steel frame of an umbrella. For a _ground_ you can use a water pipe, an iron pipe driven into the ground, or a hydrant. Put on your headphone, adjust the detector and move the lever over the switch contacts until it is in adjustment and then, if all your connections are properly made, you should be able to pick up messages. [Illustration: Wireless Set made into a Ring, designed by Alfred G. Rinehart, of Elizabeth, New Jersey. This little Receptor is a Practical Set; it will receive Messages, Concerts, etc., Measures 1" by 5/8" by 7/8". An ordinary Umbrella is used as an Aerial.] APPENDIX USEFUL INFORMATION ABBREVIATIONS OF UNITS Unit Abbreviation ampere amp. ampere-hours amp.-hr. centimeter cm. centimeter-gram-second c.g.s. cubic centimeters cm.^3 cubic inches cu. in. cycles per second ~ degrees Centigrade °C. degrees Fahrenheit °F. feet ft. foot-pounds ft.-lb. grams g. henries h. inches in. kilograms kg. kilometers km. kilowatts kw. kilowatt-hours kw.-hr. kilovolt-amperes kv.-a. meters m. microfarads [Greek: mu]f. micromicrofarads [Greek: mu mu]f. millihenries mh. millimeters mm. pounds lb. seconds sec. square centimeters cm.^2 square inches sq. in. volts v. watts w. PREFIXES USED WITH METRIC SYSTEM UNITS Prefix Abbreviation Meaning micro [Greek: mu]. 1 millionth milli m. 1 thousandth centi c. 1 hundredth deci d. 1 tenth deka dk. 10 hekto h. 1 hundred kilo k. 1 thousand mega m. 1 million SYMBOLS USED FOR VARIOUS QUANTITIES Quantity Symbol capacitance C conductance g coupling co-efficient k current, instantaneous i current, effective value I decrement [Greek: delta] dielectric constant [Greek: alpha] electric field intensity [Greek: epsilon] electromotive force, instantaneous value E electromotive force, effective value F energy W force F frequency f frequency x 2[Greek: pi] [Greek: omega] impedance Z inductance, self L inductance, mutual M magnetic field intensity A magnetic flux [Greek: Phi] magnetic induction B period of a complete oscillation T potential difference V quantity of electricity Q ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter =3.1416 [Greek: pi] reactance X resistance R time t velocity v velocity of light c wave length [Greek: lambda] wave length in meters [Greek: lambda]m work W permeability [Greek: mu] Square root [Math: square root] TABLE OF ENAMELED WIRE No. of Turns Turns Ohms per Wire, per per Cubic Inch B.& S. Linear Square of Gauge Inch Inch Winding 20 30 885 .748 22 37 1400 1.88 24 46 2160 4.61 26 58 3460 11.80 28 73 5400 29.20 30 91 8260 70.90 32 116 21,000 7547.00 34 145 13,430 2968.00 36 178 31,820 1098.00 38 232 54,080 456.00 40 294 86,500 183.00 TABLE OF FREQUENCY AND WAVE LENGTHS W. L.--Wave Lengths in Meters. F.--Number of Oscillations per Second. O. or square root L. C. is called Oscillation Constant. C.--Capacity in Microfarads. L.--Inductance in Centimeters. 1000 Centimeters = 1 Microhenry. W.L. F O L.C. 50 6,000,000 .839 .7039 100 3,000,000 1.68 2.82 150 2,000,000 2.52 6.35 200 1,500,000 3.36 11.29 250 1,200,000 4.19 17.55 300 1,000,000 5.05 25.30 350 857,100 5.87 34.46 400 750,000 6.71 45.03 450 666,700 7.55 57.00 500 600,000 8.39 70.39 550 545,400 9.23 85.19 600 500,000 10.07 101.41 700 428,600 11.74 137.83 800 375,000 13.42 180.10 900 333,300 15.10 228.01 1,000 300,000 16.78 281.57 1,100 272,730 18.45 340.40 1,200 250,000 20.13 405.20 1,300 230,760 21.81 475.70 1,400 214,380 23.49 551.80 1,500 200,000 25.17 633.50 1,600 187,500 26.84 720.40 1,700 176,460 28.52 813.40 1,800 166,670 30.20 912.00 1,900 157,800 31.88 1,016.40 2,000 150,000 33.55 1,125.60 2,100 142,850 35.23 1,241.20 2,200 136,360 36.91 1,362.40 2,300 130,430 38.59 1,489.30 2,400 125,000 40.27 1,621.80 2,500 120,000 41.95 1,759.70 2,600 115,380 43.62 1,902.60 2,700 111,110 45.30 2,052.00 2,800 107,140 46.89 2,207.00 2,900 103,450 48.66 2,366.30 3,000 100,000 50.33 2,533.20 4,000 75,000 67.11 4,504.00 5,000 60,000 83.89 7,038.00 6,000 50,000 100.7 10,130.00 7,000 41,800 117.3 13,630.00 8,000 37,500 134.1 18,000.00 9,000 33,300 151.0 22,820.00 10,000 30,000 167.9 28,150.00 11,000 27,300 184.8 34,150.00 12,000 25,000 201.5 40,600.00 13,000 23,100 218.3 47,600.00 14,000 21,400 235.0 55,200.00 15,000 20,000 252.0 63,500.00 16,000 18,750 269.0 72,300.00 PRONUNCIATION OF GREEK LETTERS Many of the physical quantities use Greek letters for symbols. The following is the Greek alphabet with the way the letters are pronounced: a alpha b beta g gamma d delta e epsilon z zeta ae eta th theta i iota k kappa l lambda m mu n nu x Xi(Zi) o omicron p pi r rho s sigma t tau u upsilon ph phi ch chi ps psi o omega TABLE OF SPARKING DISTANCES In Air for Various Voltages between Needle Points Volts Distance Inches Centimeter 5,000 .225 .57 10,000 .470 1.19 15,000 .725 1.84 20,000 1.000 2.54 25,000 1.300 3.30 30,000 1.625 4.10 35,000 2.000 5.10 40,000 2.450 6.20 45,000 2.95 7.50 50,000 3.55 9.90 60,000 4.65 11.8 70,000 5.85 14.9 80,000 7.10 18.0 90,000 8.35 21.2 100,000 9.60 24.4 110,000 10.75 27.3 120,000 11.85 30.1 130,000 12.95 32.9 140,000 13.95 35.4 150,000 15.00 38.1 FEET PER POUND OF INSULATED MAGNET WIRE No. of Single Double Single Double B.& S. Cotton, Cotton, Silk, Silk, Enamel Gauge 4-Mils 8-Mils 1-3/4-Mils 4-Mils 20 311 298 319 312 320 21 389 370 408 389 404 22 488 461 503 498 509 23 612 584 636 631 642 24 762 745 800 779 810 25 957 903 1,005 966 1,019 26 1,192 1,118 1,265 1,202 1,286 27 1,488 1,422 1,590 1,543 1,620 28 1,852 1,759 1,972 1,917 2,042 29 2,375 2,207 2,570 2,435 2,570 30 2,860 2,534 3,145 2,900 3,240 31 3,800 2,768 3,943 3,683 4,082 32 4,375 3,737 4,950 4,654 5,132 33 5,590 4,697 6,180 5,689 6,445 34 6,500 6,168 7,740 7,111 8,093 35 8,050 6,737 9,600 8,584 10,197 36 9,820 7,877 12,000 10,039 12,813 37 11,860 9,309 15,000 10,666 16,110 38 14,300 10,636 18,660 14,222 20,274 39 17,130 11,907 23,150 16,516 25,519 40 21,590 14,222 28,700 21,333 32,107 INTERNATIONAL MORSE CODE AND CONVENTIONAL SIGNALS TO BE USED FOR ALL GENERAL PUBLIC SERVICE RADIO COMMUNICATION 1. A dash is equal to three dots. 2. The space between parts of the same letter is equal to one dot. 3. The space between two letters is equal to three dots. 4. The space between two words is equal to five dots. [Note: period denotes Morse dot, hyphen denotes Morse dash] A .- B -... C -.-. D -.. E . F ..-. G --. H .... I .. J .--- K -.- L .-.. M -- N -. O --- P .--. Q --.- R .-. S ... T - U ..- V ...- W .-- X -..- Y -.-- Z --.. � (German) .-.- � or � (Spanish-Scandinavian) .--.- CH (German-Spanish) ---- � (French) ..-.. � (Spanish) --.-- � (German) ---. � (German) ..-- 1 .---- 2 ..--- 3 ...-- 4 ....- 5 ..... 6 -.... 7 --... 8 ---.. 9 ----. 0 ----- Period .. .. .. Semicolon -.-.-. Comma -.-.-. Colon ---... Interrogation ..--.. Exclamation point --..-- Apostrophe .----. Hyphen -....- Bar indicating fraction -..-. Parenthesis -.--.- Inverted commas .-..-. Underline ..--.- Double dash -...- Distress Call ...---... Attention call to precede every transmission -.-.- General inquiry call -.-. --.- From (de) -.. . Invitation to transmit (go ahead) -.- Warning--high power --..-- Question (please repeat after ...)--interrupting long messages ..--.. Wait .-... Break (Bk.) (double dash) -...- Understand ...-. Error ........ Received (O.K.) .-. Position report (to precede all position messages) - .-. End of each message (cross) .-.-. Transmission finished (end of work) (conclusion of correspondence) ...-.- INTERNATIONAL RADIOTELEGRAPHIC CONVENTION LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS TO BE USED IN RADIO COMMUNICATION ABBREVIATION QUESTION ANSWER OR REPLY PRB Do you wish to communicate I wish to communicate by means by means of the International of the International Signal Code. Signal Code? QRA What ship or coast station is This is.... that? QRB What is your distance? My distance is.... QRC What is your true bearing? My true bearing is.... QRD Where are you bound for? I am bound for.... QRF Where are you bound from? I am bound from.... QRG What line do you belong to? I belong to the ... Line. QRH What is your wave length in My wave length is ... meters. meters? QRJ How many words have you to send? I have ... words to send. QRK How do you receive me? I am receiving well. QRL Are you receiving badly? I am receiving badly. Please Shall I send 20? send 20. ...-. ...-. for adjustment? for adjustment. QRM Are you being interfered with? I am being interfered with. QRN Are the atmospherics strong? Atmospherics are very strong. QRO Shall I increase power? Increase power. QRP Shall I decrease power? Decrease power. QRQ Shall I send faster? Send faster. QRS Shall I send slower? Send slower. QRT Shall I stop sending? Stop sending. QRU Have you anything for me? I have nothing for you. QRV Are you ready? I am ready. All right now. QRW Are you busy? I am busy (or: I am busy with...). Please do not interfere. QRX Shall I stand by? Stand by. I will call you when required. QRY When will be my turn? Your turn will be No.... QRZ Are my signals weak? You signals are weak. QSA Are my signals strong? You signals are strong. QSB Is my tone bad? The tone is bad. Is my spark bad? The spark is bad. QSC Is my spacing bad? Your spacing is bad. QSD What is your time? My time is.... QSF Is transmission to be in Transmission will be in alternate order or in series? alternate order. QSG Transmission will be in a series of 5 messages. QSH Transmission will be in a series of 10 messages. QSJ What rate shall I collect for...? Collect.... QSK Is the last radiogram canceled? The last radiogram is canceled. QSL Did you get my receipt? Please acknowledge. QSM What is your true course? My true course is...degrees. QSN Are you in communication with land? I am not in communication with land. QSO Are you in communication with I am in communication with... any ship or station (through...). (or: with...)? QSP Shall I inform...that you are Inform...that I am calling him. calling him? QSQ Is...calling me? You are being called by.... QSR Will you forward the radiogram? I will forward the radiogram. QST Have you received the general General call to all stations. call? QSU Please call me when you have Will call when I have finished. finished (or: at...o'clock)? QSV Is public correspondence being Public correspondence is being handled? handled. Please do not interfere. [Footnote: Public correspondence is any radio work, official or private, handled on commercial wave lengths.] QSW Shall I increase my spark Increase your spark frequency. frequency? QSX Shall I decrease my spark Decrease your spark frequency. frequency? QSY Shall I send on a wavelength Let us change to the wave length of ... meters? of ... meters. QSZ Send each word twice. I have difficulty in receiving you. QTA Repeat the last radiogram. When an abbreviation is followed by a mark of interrogation, it refers to the question indicated for that abbreviation. Useful Information Symbols Used For Apparatus alternator ammeter aerial arc battery buzzer condenser variable condenser connection of wires no connection coupled coils variable coupling detector gap, plain gap, quenched ground hot wire ammeter inductor variable inductor key resistor variable resistor switch s.p.s.t. " s.p.d.t. " d.p.s.t. " d.p.d.t. " reversing phone receiver " transmitter thermoelement transformer vacuum tube voltmeter choke coil DEFINITIONS OF ELECTRIC AND MAGNETIC UNITS The _ohm_ is the resistance of a thread of mercury at the temperature of melting ice, 14.4521 grams in mass, of uniform cross-section and a length of 106.300 centimeters. The _ampere_ is the current which when passed through a solution of nitrate of silver in water according to certain specifications, deposits silver at the rate of 0.00111800 of a gram per second. The _volt_ is the electromotive force which produces a current of 1 ampere when steadily applied to a conductor the resistance of which is 1 ohm. The _coulomb_ is the quantity of electricity transferred by a current of 1 ampere in 1 second. The _ampere-hour_ is the quantity of electricity transferred by a current of 1 ampere in 1 hour and is, therefore, equal to 3600 coulombs. The _farad_ is the capacitance of a condenser in which a potential difference of 1 volt causes it to have a charge of 1 coulomb of electricity. The _henry_ is the inductance in a circuit in which the electromotive force induced is 1 volt when the inducing current varies at the rate of 1 ampere per second. The _watt_ is the power spent by a current of 1 ampere in a resistance of 1 ohm. The _joule_ is the energy spent in I second by a flow of 1 ampere in 1 ohm. The _horse-power_ is used in rating steam machinery. It is equal to 746 watts. The _kilowatt_ is 1,000 watts. The units of capacitance actually used in wireless work are the _microfarad_, which is the millionth part of a farad, because the farad is too large a unit; and the _C. G. S. electrostatic unit of capacitance_, which is often called the _centimeter of capacitance_, which is about equal to 1.11 microfarads. The units of inductance commonly used in radio work are the _millihenry_, which is the thousandth part of a henry; and the _centimeter of inductance_, which is one one-thousandth part of a microhenry. Note.--For further information about electric and magnetic units get the _Bureau of Standards Circular No. 60_, called _Electric Units and Standards_, the price of which is 15 cents; also get _Scientific Paper No. 292_, called _International System of Electric and Magnetic Units_, price 10 cents. These and other informative papers can be had from the _Superintendent of Documents, Government Printing Office_, Washington, D. C. WIRELESS BOOKS The Admiralty Manual of Wireless Telegraphy. 1920. Published by His Majesty's Stationery Office, London. Ralph E. Batcher.--Prepared Radio Measurements. 1921. Wireless Press, Inc., New York City. Elmer E. Bucher.--Practical Wireless Telegraphy. 1918. Wireless Press, Inc., New York City. Elmer E. Bucher.--Vacuum Tubes in Wireless Communication. 1919. Wireless Press, Inc., New York City. Elmer E. Bucher.--The Wireless Experimenter's Manual. 1920. Wireless Press, Inc., New York City. A. Frederick Collins.--Wireless Telegraphy, Its History, Theory, and Practice. 1905. McGraw Pub. Co., New York City. J. H. Dellinger.--Principles Underlying Radio Communication. 1921. Signal Corps, U. S. Army, Washington, D. C. H. M. Dorsett.--Wireless Telegraphy and Telephony. 1920. Wireless Press, Ltd., London. J. A. Fleming.--Principles of Electric Wave Telegraphy. 1919. Longmans, Green and Co., London. Charles B. Hayward.--How to Become a Wireless Operator. 1918. American Technical Society, Chicago, Ill. G. D. Robinson.--Manual of Radio Telegraphy and Telephony. 1920. United States Naval Institute, Annapolis, Md. Rupert Stanley.--Textbook of Wireless Telegraphy. 1919. Longmans, Green and Co., London. E. W. Stone.--Elements of Radio Telegraphy. 1919. D, Van Nostrand Co., New York City. L. B. Turner.--Wireless Telegraphy and Telephony. 1921. Cambridge University Press. Cambridge, England. Send to the _Superintendent of Documents, Government Printing Office_, Washington, D. C., for a copy of _Price List No. 64_ which lists the Government's books and pamphlets on wireless. It will be sent to you free of charge. The Government publishes; (1) _A List of Commercial Government and Special Wireless Stations_, every year, price 15 cents; (2) _A List of Amateur Wireless Stations_, yearly, price 15 cents; (3) _A Wireless Service Bulletin_ is published monthly, price 5 cents a copy, or 25 cents yearly; and (4) _Wireless Communication Laws of the United States_, the _International Wireless Telegraphic Convention and Regulations Governing Wireless Operators and the Use of Wireless on Ships and Land Stations_, price 15 cents a copy. Orders for the above publications should be addressed to the _Superintendent of Documents, Government Printing Office, Washington, D. C._ Manufacturers and Dealers in Wireless Apparatus and Supplies: Adams-Morgan Co., Upper Montclair, N. J. American Hard Rubber Co., 11 Mercer Street, New York City. American Radio and Research Corporation, Medford Hillside, Mass. Brach (L. S.) Mfg. Co., 127 Sussex Ave., Newark, N. J. Brandes (C.) Inc., 237 Lafayette St., New York City. Bunnell (J. H.) Company, Park Place, New York City. Burgess Battery Company, Harris Trust Co. Bldg., Chicago, Ill. Clapp-Eastman Co., 120 Main St., Cambridge, Mass. Connecticut Telephone and Telegraph Co., Meriden, Conn. Continental Fiber Co., Newark, Del. Coto-Coil Co., Providence, R. I. Crosley Mfg. Co., Cincinnati, Ohio. Doolittle (F. M.), 817 Chapel St., New Haven, Conn. Edelman (Philip E.), 9 Cortlandt St., New York City. Edison Storage Battery Co., Orange, N. J. Electric Specialty Co., Stamford, Conn. Electrose Mfg. Co., 60 Washington St., Brooklyn, N. Y. General Electric Co., Schenectady, N. Y. Grebe (A. H.) and Co., Inc., Richmond Hill, N. Y. C. International Brass and Electric Co., 176 Beekman St., New York City. International Insulating Co., 25 West 45th St., New York City. King Amplitone Co., 82 Church St., New York City. Kennedy (Colin B.) Co., Rialto Bldg., San Francisco, Cal. Magnavox Co., Oakland, Cal. Manhattan Electrical Supply Co., Park Place, N. Y. Marshall-Gerken Co., Toledo, Ohio. Michigan Paper Tube and Can Co., 2536 Grand River Ave., Detroit, Mich. Murdock (Wm. J.) Co., Chelsea, Mass. National Carbon Co., Inc., Long Island City, N. Y. Pittsburgh Radio and Appliance Co., 112 Diamond St., Pittsburgh, Pa, Radio Corporation of America, 233 Broadway, New York City. Riley-Klotz Mfg. Co., 17-19 Mulberry St., Newark, N. J. Radio Specialty Co., 96 Park Place, New York City. Roller-Smith Co., 15 Barclay St., New York City. Tuska (C. D.) Co., Hartford, Conn. Western Electric Co., Chicago, Ill. Westinghouse Electric Co., Pittsburgh, Pa. Weston Electrical Instrument Co., 173 Weston Ave., Newark, N. J. Westfield Machine Co., Westfield, Mass. ABBREVIATIONS OF COMMON TERMS A. ..............Aerial A.C. ............Alternating Current A.F. ............Audio Frequency B. and S. .......Brown & Sharpe Wire Gauge C. ..............Capacity or Capacitance C.G.S. ..........Centimeter-Grain-Second Cond. ...........Condenser Coup. ...........Coupler C.W. ............Continuous Waves D.C. ............Direct Current D.P.D.T. ........Double Point Double Throw D.P.S.T. ........Double Point Single Throw D.X. ............Distance E. ..............Short for Electromotive Force (Volt) E.M.F. ..........Electromotive Force F. ..............Filament or Frequency G. ..............Grid Gnd. ............Ground I. ..............Current Strength (Ampere) I.C.W. ..........Interrupted Continuous Waves KW. .............Kilowatt L. ..............Inductance L.C. ............Loose Coupler Litz. ...........Litzendraht Mfd. ............Microfarad Neg. ............Negative O.T. ............Oscillation Transformer P. ..............Plate Prim. ...........Primary Pos. ............Positive R. ..............Resistance R.F. ............Radio Frequency Sec. ............Secondary S.P.D.T. ........Single Point Double Throw S.P.S.T. ........Single Point Single Throw S.R. ............Self Rectifying T. ..............Telephone or Period (time) of Complete Oscillation Tick. ...........Tickler V. ..............Potential Difference Var. ............Variometer Var. Cond. ......Variable Condenser V.T. ............Vacuum Tube W.L. ............Wave Length X. ..............Reactance GLOSSARY A BATTERY.--See Battery A. ABBREVIATIONS, CODE.--Abbreviations of questions and answers used in wireless communication. The abbreviation _of a question_ is usually in three letters of which the first is Q. Thus Q R B is the code abbreviation of "_what is your distance?_" and the answer "_My distance is_..." See Page 306 [Appendix: List of Abbreviations]. ABBREVIATIONS, UNITS.--Abbreviations of various units used in wireless electricity. These abbreviations are usually lower case letters of the Roman alphabet, but occasionally Greek letters are used and other signs. Thus _amperes_ is abbreviated _amp., micro_, which means _one millionth_, [Greek: mu], etc. See Page 301 [Appendix: Useful Abbreviations]. ABBREVIATIONS OF WORDS AND TERMS.--Letters used instead of words and terms for shortening them up where there is a constant repetition of them, as _A.C._ for _alternating current; C.W._ for _continuous waves; V.T._ for _vacuum tube_, etc. See Page 312 [Appendix: Abbreviations of Common Terms]. AERIAL.--Also called _antenna_. An aerial wire. One or more wires suspended in the air and insulated from its supports. It is the aerial that sends out the waves and receives them. AERIAL, AMATEUR.--An aerial suitable for sending out 200 meter wave lengths. Such an aerial wire system must not exceed 120 feet in length from the ground up to the aerial switch and from this through the leading-in wire to the end of the aerial. AERIAL AMMETER.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire_. AERIAL, BED-SPRINGS.--Where an outdoor aerial is not practicable _bed-springs_ are often made to serve the purpose. AERIAL CAPACITY.--See _Capacity, Aerial._ AERIAL COUNTERPOISE.--Where it is not possible to get a good ground an _aerial counterpoise_ or _earth capacity_ can be used to advantage. The counterpoise is made like the aerial and is supported directly under it close to the ground but insulated from it. AERIAL, DIRECTIONAL.--A flat-top or other aerial that will transmit and receive over greater distances to and from one direction than to and from another. AERIAL, GROUND.--Signals can be received on a single long wire when it is placed on or buried in the earth or immersed in water. It is also called a _ground antenna_ and an _underground aerial._ AERIAL, LOOP.--Also called a _coil aerial, coil antenna, loop aerial, loop antenna_ and when used for the purpose a _direction finder_. A coil of wire wound on a vertical frame. AERIAL RESISTANCE.--See _Resistance, Aerial._ AERIAL SWITCH.--See _Switch Aerial._ AERIAL WIRE.--(1) A wire or wires that form the aerial. (2) Wire that is used for aerials; this is usually copper or copper alloy. AERIAL WIRE SYSTEM.--An aerial and ground wire and that part of the inductance coil which connects them. The open oscillation circuit of a sending or a receiving station. AIR CORE TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Air Core._ AMATEUR AERIAL OR ANTENNA.--See _Aerial, Amateur._ ALTERNATOR.--An electric machine that generates alternating current. ALPHABET, INTERNATIONAL CODE.--A modified Morse alphabet of dots and dashes originally used in Continental Europe and, hence, called the _Continental Code_. It is now used for all general public service wireless communication all over the world and, hence, it is called the _International Code_. See page 305 [Appendix: International Morse Code]. ALTERNATING CURRENT (_A.C._)--See _Current._ ALTERNATING CURRENT TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer_. AMATEUR GROUND.--See _Ground, Amateur_. AMMETER.--An instrument used for measuring the current strength, in terms of amperes, that flows in a circuit. Ammeters used for measuring direct and alternating currents make use of the _magnetic effects_ of the currents. High frequency currents make use of the _heating effects_ of the currents. AMMETER, HOT-WIRE.--High frequency currents are usually measured by means of an instrument which depends on heating a wire or metal strip by the oscillations. Such an instrument is often called a _thermal ammeter_, _radio ammeter_ and _aerial ammeter_. AMMETER, AERIAL.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire_. AMMETER, RADIO.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire_. AMPERE.--The current which when passed through a solution of nitrate of silver in water according to certain specifications, deposits silver at the rate of 0.00111800 of a gram per second. AMPERE-HOUR.--The quantity of electricity transferred by a current of 1 ampere in 1 hour and is, therefore, equal to 3600 coulombs. AMPERE-TURNS.--When a coil is wound up with a number of turns of wire and a current is made to flow through it, it behaves like a magnet. B The strength of the magnetic field inside of the coil depends on (1) the strength of the current and (2) the number of turns of wire on the coil. Thus a feeble current flowing through a large number of turns will produce as strong a magnetic field as a strong current flowing through a few turns of wire. This product of the current in amperes times the number of turns of wire on the coil is called the _ampere-turns_. AMPLIFICATION, AUDIO FREQUENCY.--A current of audio frequency that is amplified by an amplifier tube or other means. AMPLIFICATION, CASCADE.--See _Cascade Amplification_. AMPLIFICATION, RADIO FREQUENCY.--A current of radio frequency that is amplified by an amplifier tube or other means before it reaches the detector. AMPLIFICATION, REGENERATIVE.--A scheme that uses a third circuit to feed back part of the oscillations through a vacuum tube and which increases its sensitiveness when used as a detector and multiplies its action as an amplifier and an oscillator. AMPLIFIER, AUDIO FREQUENCY.--A vacuum tube or other device that amplifies the signals after passing through the detector. AMPLIFIER, MAGNETIC.--A device used for controlling radio frequency currents either by means of a telegraph key or a microphone transmitter. The controlling current flows through a separate circuit from that of the radio current and a fraction of an ampere will control several amperes in the aerial wire. AMPLIFIERS, MULTI-STAGE.--A receiving set using two or more amplifiers. Also called _cascade amplification_. AMPLIFIER, VACUUM TUBE.--A vacuum tube that is used either to amplify the radio frequency currents or the audio frequency currents. AMPLITUDE OF WAVE.--The greatest distance that a point moves from its position of rest. AMPLIFYING TRANSFORMER, AUDIO.--See _Transformer, Audio Amplifying_. AMPLIFYING MODULATOR VACUUM TUBE.--See _Vacuum Tube, Amplifying Modulator_. AMPLIFYING TRANSFORMER RADIO.--See _Transformer, Radio Amplifying_. ANTENNA, AMATEUR.--See _Aerial, Amateur_. ANTENNA SWITCH.--See _Switch, Aerial_. APPARATUS SYMBOLS.--See _Symbols, Apparatus_. ARMSTRONG CIRCUIT.--See _Circuit, Armstrong_. ATMOSPHERICS.--Same as _Static_, which see. ATTENUATION.--In Sending wireless telegraph and telephone messages the amplitude of the electric waves is damped out as the distance increases. This is called _attenuation_ and it increases as the frequency is increased. This is the reason why short wave lengths will not carry as far as long wave lengths. AUDIO FREQUENCY AMPLIFIER.--See _Amplifier, Audio Frequency_. AUDIO FREQUENCY AMPLIFICATION.--See _Amplification, Audio Frequency_. AUDIBILITY METER.--See _Meter, Audibility_. AUDIO FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Audio_. AUDIO FREQUENCY CURRENT.--See _Current, Audio Frequency_. AUDION.--An early trade name given to the vacuum tube detector. AUTODYNE RECEPTOR.--See _Receptor, Autodyne_. AUTO TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Auto_. BAKELITE.--A manufactured insulating compound. B BATTERY.--See _Battery B_. BAND, WAVE LENGTH.--See _Wave Length Band_. BASKET WOUND COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance_. BATTERY, A.--The 6-volt storage battery used to heat the filament of a vacuum tube, detector or amplifier. BATTERY, B.--The 22-1/2-volt dry cell battery used to energize the plate of a vacuum tube detector or amplifier. BATTERY, BOOSTER.--This is the battery that is connected in series with the crystal detector. BATTERY, C.--A small dry cell battery sometimes used to give the grid of a vacuum tube detector a bias potential. BATTERY, EDISON STORAGE.--A storage battery in which the elements are made of nickel and iron and immersed in an alkaline _electrolyte_. BATTERY, LEAD STORAGE.--A storage battery in which the elements are made of lead and immersed in an acid electrolyte. BATTERY POLES.--See _Poles, Battery_. BATTERY, PRIMARY.--A battery that generates current by chemical action. BATTERY, STORAGE.--A battery that develops a current after it has been charged. BEAT RECEPTION.--See _Heterodyne Reception_. BED SPRINGS AERIAL.--See _Aerial, Bed Springs_. BLUB BLUB.--Over modulation in wireless telephony. BROAD WAVE.--See _Wave, Broad_. BRUSH DISCHARGE.--See _Discharge_. BUZZER MODULATION.--See _Modulation, Buzzer_. BLUE GLOW DISCHARGE.--See _Discharge_. BOOSTER BATTERY.--See _Battery, Booster_. BROADCASTING.--Sending out intelligence and music from a central station for the benefit of all who live within range of it and who have receiving sets. CAPACITANCE.--Also called by the older name of _capacity_. The capacity of a condenser, inductance coil or other device capable of retaining a charge of electricity. Capacitance is measured in terms of the _microfarad_. CAPACITIVE COUPLING.--See _Coupling, Capacitive_. CAPACITY.--Any object that will retain a charge of electricity; hence an aerial wire, a condenser or a metal plate is sometimes called a _capacity_. CAPACITY, AERIAL.--The amount to which an aerial wire system can be charged. The _capacitance_ of a small amateur aerial is from 0.0002 to 0.0005 microfarad. CAPACITY, DISTRIBUTED.--A coil of wire not only has inductance, but also a certain small capacitance. Coils wound with their turns parallel and having a number of layers have a _bunched capacitance_ which produces untoward effects in oscillation circuits. In honeycomb and other stagger wound coils the capacitance is more evenly distributed. CAPACITY REACTANCE.--See _Reactance, Capacity_. CAPACITY UNIT.--See _Farad_. CARBON RHEOSTATS.--See _Rheostat, Carbon_. CARBORUNDUM DETECTOR.--See _Detector_. CARRIER CURRENT TELEPHONY.--See _Wired-Wireless_. CARRIER FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Carrier_. CARRIER FREQUENCY TELEPHONY.--See _Wired-Wireless_. CASCADE AMPLIFICATION.--Two or more amplifying tubes hooked up in a receiving set. CAT WHISKER CONTACT.--A long, thin wire which makes contact with the crystal of a detector. CENTIMETER OF CAPACITANCE.--Equal to 1.11 _microfarads_. CENTIMETER OF INDUCTANCE.--Equal to one one-thousandth part of a _microhenry_. CELLULAR COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance_. C.G.S. ELECTROSTATIC UNIT OF CAPACITANCE.--See _Centimeter of Capacitance_. CHARACTERISTICS.--The special behavior of a device, such as an aerial, a detector tube, etc. CHARACTERISTICS, GRID.--See _Grid Characteristics_. CHOKE COILS.--Coils that prevent the high voltage oscillations from surging back into the transformer and breaking down the insulation. CHOPPER MODULATION.--See _Modulation, Chopper_. CIRCUIT.--Any electrical conductor through which a current can flow. A low voltage current requires a loop of wire or other conductor both ends of which are connected to the source of current before it can flow. A high frequency current will surge in a wire which is open at both ends like the aerial. Closed Circuit.--A circuit that is continuous. Open Circuit.--A conductor that is not continuous. Coupled Circuits.--Open and closed circuits connected together by inductance coils, condensers or resistances. See _coupling_. Close Coupled Circuits.--Open and closed circuits connected directly together with a single inductance coil. Loose Coupled Circuits.--Opened and closed currents connected together inductively by means of a transformer. Stand-by Circuits.--Also called _pick-up_ circuits. When listening-in for possible calls from a number of stations, a receiver is used which will respond to a wide band of wave lengths. Armstrong Circuits.--The regenerative circuit invented by Major E. H. Armstrong. CLOSE COUPLED CIRCUITS.--See _Currents, Close Coupled_. CLOSED CIRCUIT.--See _Circuit, Closed_. CLOSED CORE TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Closed Core_. CODE.-- Continental.--Same as _International_. International.--On the continent of Europe land lines use the _Continental Morse_ alphabetic code. This code has come to be used throughout the world for wireless telegraphy and hence it is now called the _International code_. It is given on Page 305. [Appendix: International Morse Code]. Morse.--The code devised by Samuel F. B. Morse and which is used on the land lines in the U. S. National Electric.--A set of rules and requirements devised by the _National Board of Fire Underwriters_ for the electrical installations in buildings on which insurance companies carry risks. This code also covers the requirements for wireless installations. A copy may be had from the _National Board of Fire Underwriters_, New York City, or from your insurance agent. National Electric Safety.--The Bureau of Standards, Washington, D. C., have investigated the precautions which should be taken for the safe operation of all electric equipment. A copy of the _Bureau of Standards Handbook No. 3_ can be had for 40 cents from the _Superintendent of Documents_. COEFFICIENT OF COUPLING.--See _Coupling, Coefficient of_. COIL AERIAL.--See _Aerial, Loop_. COIL ANTENNA.--See _Aerial, Loop_. COIL, INDUCTION.--An apparatus for changing low voltage direct currents into high voltage, low frequency alternating currents. When fitted with a spark gap the high voltage, low frequency currents are converted into high voltage, high frequency currents. It is then also called a _spark coil_ and a _Ruhmkorff coil_. COIL, LOADING.--A coil connected in the aerial or closed oscillation circuit so that longer wave lengths can be received. COIL, REPEATING.--See _Repeating Coil_. COIL, ROTATING.--One which rotates on a shaft instead of sliding as in a _loose coupler_. The rotor of a _variometer_ or _variocoupler_ is a _rotating coil_. COILS, INDUCTANCE.--These are the tuning coils used for sending and receiving sets. For sending sets they are formed of one and two coils, a single sending coil is generally called a _tuning inductance coil_, while a two-coil tuner is called an _oscillation transformer_. Receiving tuning coils are made with a single layer, single coil, or a pair of coils, when it is called an oscillation _transformer_. Some tuning inductance coils have more than one layer, they are then called _lattice wound_, _cellular_, _basket wound_, _honeycomb_, _duo-lateral_, _stagger wound_, _spider-web_ and _slab_ coils. COMMERCIAL FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Commercial_. CONDENSER, AERIAL SERIES.--A condenser placed in the aerial wire system to cut down the wave length. CONDENSER, VERNIER.--A small variable condenser used for receiving continuous waves where very sharp tuning is desired. CONDENSER.--All conducting objects with their insulation form capacities, but a _condenser_ is understood to mean two sheets or plates of metal placed closely together but separated by some insulating material. Adjustable Condenser.--Where two or more condensers can be coupled together by means of plugs, switches or other devices. Aerial Condenser.--A condenser connected in the aerial. Air Condenser.--Where air only separates the sheets of metal. By-Pass Condenser.--A condenser connected in the transmitting currents so that the high frequency currents cannot flow back through the power circuit. Filter Condenser.--A condenser of large capacitance used in combination with a filter reactor for smoothing out the pulsating direct currents as they come from the rectifier. Fixed Condenser.--Where the plates are fixed relatively to one another. Grid Condenser.--A condenser connected in series with the grid lead. Leyden Jar Condenser.--Where glass jars are used. Mica Condenser.--Where mica is used. Oil Condenser.--Where the plates are immersed in oil. Paper Condenser.--Where paper is used as the insulating material. Protective.--A condenser of large capacity connected across the low voltage supply circuit of a transmitter to form a by-path of kick-back oscillations. Variable Condenser.--Where alternate plates can be moved and so made to interleave more or less with a set of fixed plates. Vernier.--A small condenser with a vernier on it so that it can be very accurately varied. It is connected in parallel with the variable condenser used in the primary circuit and is used for the reception of continuous waves where sharp tuning is essential. CONDENSITE.--A manufactured insulating compound. CONDUCTIVITY.--The conductance of a given length of wire of uniform cross section. The reciprocal of _resistivity_. CONTACT DETECTORS.--See _Detectors, Contact_. CONTINENTAL CODE.--See _Code, Continental_. COULOMB.--The quantity of electricity transferred by a current of 1 ampere in 1 second. CONVECTIVE DISCHARGE.--See _Discharge_. CONVENTIONAL SIGNALS.--See _Signals, Conventional_. COUNTER ELECTROMOTIVE FORCE.--See _Electromotive Force, Counter_. COUNTERPOISE. A duplicate of the aerial wire that is raised a few feet above the earth and insulated from it. Usually no connection is made with the earth itself. COUPLED CIRCUITS.--See _Circuit, Coupled_. COUPLING.--When two oscillation circuits are connected together either by the magnetic field of an inductance coil, or by the electrostatic field of a condenser. COUPLING, CAPACITIVE.--Oscillation circuits when connected together by condensers instead of inductance coils. COUPLING, COEFFICIENT OF.--The measure of the closeness of the coupling between two coils. COUPLING, INDUCTIVE.--Oscillation circuits when connected together by inductance coils. COUPLING, RESISTANCE.--Oscillation circuits connected together by a resistance. CRYSTAL RECTIFIER.--A crystal detector. CURRENT, ALTERNATING (A.C.).--A low frequency current that surges to and fro in a circuit. CURRENT, AUDIO FREQUENCY.--A current whose frequency is low enough to be heard in a telephone receiver. Such a current usually has a frequency of between 200 and 2,000 cycles per second. CURRENT, PLATE.--The current which flows between the filament and the plate of a vacuum tube. CURRENT, PULSATING.--A direct current whose voltage varies from moment to moment. CURRENT, RADIO FREQUENCY.--A current whose frequency is so high it cannot be heard in a telephone receiver. Such a current may have a frequency of from 20,000 to 10,000,000 per second. CURRENTS, HIGH FREQUENCY.--(1) Currents that oscillate from 10,000 to 300,000,000 times per second. (2) Electric oscillations. CURRENTS, HIGH POTENTIAL.--(1) Currents that have a potential of more than 10,000 volts. (2) High voltage currents. CYCLE.--(1) A series of changes which when completed are again at the starting point. (2) A period of time at the end of which an alternating or oscillating current repeats its original direction of flow. DAMPING.--The degree to which the energy of an electric oscillation is reduced. In an open circuit the energy of an oscillation set up by a spark gap is damped out in a few swings, while in a closed circuit it is greatly prolonged, the current oscillating 20 times or more before the energy is dissipated by the sum of the resistances of the circuit. DECREMENT.--The act or process of gradually becoming less. DETECTOR.--Any device that will (1) change the oscillations set up by the incoming waves into direct current, that is which will rectify them, or (2) that will act as a relay. Carborundum.--One that uses a _carborundum_ crystal for the sensitive element. Carborundum is a crystalline silicon carbide formed in the electric furnace. Cat Whisker Contact.--See _Cat Whisker Contact_. Chalcopyrite.--Copper pyrites. A brass colored mineral used as a crystal for detectors. See _Zincite_. Contact.--A crystal detector. Any kind of a detector in which two dissimilar but suitable solids make contact. Ferron.--A detector in which iron pyrites are used as the sensitive element. Galena.--A detector that uses a galena crystal for the rectifying element. Iron Pyrites.--A detector that uses a crystal of iron pyrites for its sensitive element. Molybdenite.--A detector that uses a crystal of _sulphide of molybdenum_ for the sensitive element. Perikon.--A detector in which a _bornite_ crystal makes contact with a _zincite_ crystal. Silicon.--A detector that uses a crystal of silicon for its sensitive element. Vacuum Tube.--A vacuum tube (which see) used as a detector. Zincite.--A detector in which a crystal of _zincite_ is used as the sensitive element. DE TUNING.--A method of signaling by sustained oscillations in which the key when pressed down cuts out either some of the inductance or some of the capacity and hence greatly changes the wave length. DIELECTRIC.--An insulating material between two electrically charged plates in which there is set up an _electric strain_, or displacement. DIELECTRIC STRAIN.--The electric displacement in a dielectric. DIRECTIONAL AERIAL.--See _Aerial, Directional_. DIRECTION FINDER.--See _Aerial, Loop_. DISCHARGE.--(1) A faintly luminous discharge that takes place from the positive pointed terminal of an induction coil, or other high potential apparatus; is termed a _brush discharge_. (2) A continuous discharge between the terminals of a high potential apparatus is termed a _convective discharge_. (3) The sudden breaking-down of the air between the balls forming the spark gap is termed a _disruptive discharge_; also called an _electric spark_, or just _spark_ for short. (4) When a tube has a poor vacuum, or too large a battery voltage, it glows with a blue light and this is called a _blue glow discharge_. DISRUPTIVE DISCHARGE.--See _Discharge_. DISTRESS CALL. [Morse code:] ...---... (SOS). DISTRIBUTED CAPACITY.--See _Capacity, Distributed_. DOUBLE HUMP RESONANCE CURVE.--A resonance curve that has two peaks or humps which show that the oscillating currents which are set up when the primary and secondary of a tuning coil are closely coupled have two frequencies. DUO-LATERAL COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance_. DUPLEX COMMUNICATION.--A wireless telephone system with which it is possible to talk between both stations in either direction without the use of switches. This is known as the _duplex system_. EARTH CAPACITY.--An aerial counterpoise. EARTH CONNECTION.--Metal plates or wires buried in the ground or immersed in water. Any kind of means by which the sending and receiving apparatus can be connected with the earth. EDISON STORAGE BATTERY.--See _Storage Battery, Edison_. ELECTRIC ENERGY.--The power of an electric current. ELECTRIC OSCILLATIONS.--See _Oscillations, Electric_. ELECTRIC SPARK.--See _Discharge, Spark_. ELECTRICITY, NEGATIVE.--The opposite of _positive electricity_. Negative electricity is formed of negative electrons which make up the outside particles of an atom. ELECTRICITY, POSITIVE.--The opposite of _negative electricity_. Positive electricity is formed of positive electrons which make up the inside particles of an atom. ELECTRODES.--Usually the parts of an apparatus which dip into a liquid and carry a current. The electrodes of a dry battery are the zinc and carbon elements. The electrodes of an Edison storage battery are the iron and nickel elements, and the electrodes of a lead storage battery are the lead elements. ELECTROLYTES.--The acid or alkaline solutions used in batteries. ELECTROMAGNETIC WAVES.--See _Waves, Electric_. ELECTROMOTIVE FORCE.--Abbreviated _emf_. The force that drives an electric current along a conductor. Also loosely called _voltage_. ELECTROMOTIVE FORCE, COUNTER.--The emf. that is set up in a direction opposite to that in which the current is flowing in a conductor. ELECTRON.--(1) A negative particle of electricity that is detached from an atom. (2) A negative particle of electricity thrown off from the incandescent filament of a vacuum tube. ELECTRON FLOW.--The passage of electrons between the incandescent filament and the cold positively charged plate of a vacuum tube. ELECTRON RELAY.--See _Relay, Electron_. ELECTRON TUBE.--A vacuum tube or a gas-content tube used for any purpose in wireless work. See _Vacuum Tube_. ELECTROSE INSULATORS.--Insulators made of a composition material the trade name of which is _Electrose_. ENERGY, ELECTRIC.--See _Electric Energy_. ENERGY UNIT.--The _joule_, which see, Page 308 [Appendix: Definitions of Electric and Magnetic Units]. FADING.--The sudden variation in strength of signals received from a transmitting station when all the adjustments of both sending and receiving apparatus remain the same. Also called _swinging_. FARAD.--The capacitance of a condenser in which a potential difference of 1 volt causes it to have a charge of 1 coulomb of electricity. FEED-BACK ACTION.--Feeding back the oscillating currents in a vacuum tube to amplify its power. Also called _regenerative action_. FERROMAGNETIC CONTROL.--See _Magnetic Amplifier_. FILAMENT.--The wire in a vacuum tube that is heated to incandescence and which throws off electrons. FILAMENT RHEOSTAT.--See _Rheostat, Filament_. FILTER.--Inductance coils or condensers or both which (1) prevent troublesome voltages from acting on the different circuits, and (2) smooth out alternating currents after they have been rectified. FILTER REACTOR.--See _Reactor, Filter_. FIRE UNDERWRITERS.--See _Code, National Electric_. FIXED GAP.--See _Gap_. FLEMING VALVE.--A two-electrode vacuum tube. FORCED OSCILLATIONS.--See _Oscillations, Forced_. FREE OSCILLATIONS.--See _Oscillations, Free_. FREQUENCY, AUDIO.--(1) An alternating current whose frequency is low enough to operate a telephone receiver and, hence, which can be heard by the ear. (2) Audio frequencies are usually around 500 or 1,000 cycles per second, but may be as low as 200 and as high as 10,000 cycles per second. Carrier.--A radio frequency wave modulated by an audio frequency wave which results in setting of _three_ radio frequency waves. The principal radio frequency is called the carrier frequency, since it carries or transmits the audio frequency wave. Commercial.--(1) Alternating current that is used for commercial purposes, namely, light, heat and power. (2) Commercial frequencies now in general use are from 25 to 50 cycles per second. Natural.--The pendulum and vibrating spring have a _natural frequency_ which depends on the size, material of which it is made, and the friction which it has to overcome. Likewise an oscillation circuit has a natural frequency which depends upon its _inductance_, _capacitance_ and _resistance_. Radio.--(1) An oscillating current whose frequency is too high to affect a telephone receiver and, hence, cannot be heard by the ear. (2) Radio frequencies are usually between 20,000 and 2,000,000 cycles per second but may be as low as 10,000 and as high as 300,000,000 cycles per second. Spark.--The number of sparks per second produced by the discharge of a condenser. GAP, FIXED.--One with fixed electrodes. GAP, NON-SYNCHRONOUS.--A rotary spark gap run by a separate motor which may be widely different from that of the speed of the alternator. GAP, QUENCHED.--(1) A spark gap for the impulse production of oscillating currents. (2) This method can be likened to one where a spring is struck a single sharp blow and then continues to set up vibrations. GAP, ROTARY.--One having fixed and rotating electrodes. GAP, SYNCHRONOUS.--A rotary spark gap run at the same speed as the alternator which supplies the power transformer. Such a gap usually has as many teeth as there are poles on the generator. Hence one spark occurs per half cycle. GAS-CONTENT TUBE.--See _Vacuum Tube._ GENERATOR TUBE.--A vacuum tube used to set up oscillations. As a matter of fact it does not _generate_ oscillations, but changes the initial low voltage current that flows through it into oscillations. Also called an _oscillator tube_ and a _power tube._ GRID BATTERY.--See _Battery C._ GRID CHARACTERISTICS.--The various relations that could exist between the voltages and currents of the grid of a vacuum tube, and the values which do exist between them when the tube is in operation. These characteristics are generally shown by curves. GRID CONDENSER.--See _Condenser, Grid._ GRID LEAK.--A high resistance unit connected in the grid lead of both sending and receiving sets. In a sending set it keeps the voltage of the grid at a constant value and so controls the output of the aerial. In a receiving set it controls the current flowing between the plate and filament. GRID MODULATION.--See _Modulation, Grid._ GRID POTENTIAL.--The negative or positive voltage of the grid of a vacuum tube. GRID VOLTAGE.--See _Grid Potential._ GRINDERS.--The most common form of _Static,_ which see. They make a grinding noise in the headphones. GROUND.--See _Earth Connection._ GROUND, AMATEUR.--A water-pipe ground. GROUND, WATERPIPE.--A common method of grounding by amateurs is to use the waterpipe, gaspipe or radiator. GUIDED WAVE TELEPHONY.--See _Wired Wireless._ HARD TUBE.--A vacuum tube in which the vacuum is _high,_ that is, exhausted to a high degree. HELIX.--(1) Any coil of wire. (2) Specifically a transmitter tuning inductance coil. HENRY.--The inductance in a circuit in which the electromotive force induced is 1 volt when the inducing current varies at the rate of 1 ampere per second. HETERODYNE RECEPTION.--(1) Receiving by the _beat_ method. (2) Receiving by means of superposing oscillations generated at the receiving station on the oscillations set up in the aerial by the incoming waves. HETERODYNE RECEPTOR.--See _Receptor, Heterodyne._ HIGH FREQUENCY CURRENTS.--See _Currents, High Frequency._ HIGH FREQUENCY RESISTANCE.--See _Resistance, High Frequency._ HIGH POTENTIAL CURRENTS.--See _Currents, High Potential._ HIGH VOLTAGE CURRENTS.--See _Currents, High Potential._ HONEYCOMB COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ HORSE-POWER.--Used in rating steam machinery. It is equal to 746 watts. HOT WIRE AMMETER.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire._ HOWLING.--Where more than three stages of radio amplification, or more than two stages of audio amplification, are used howling noises are apt to occur in the telephone receivers. IMPEDANCE.--An oscillation circuit has _reactance_ and also _resistance,_ and when these are combined the total opposition to the current is called _impedance._ INDUCTANCE COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ INDUCTANCE COIL, LOADING.--See _Coil, Loading Inductance._ INDUCTIVE COUPLING.--See _Coupling, Inductive._ INDUCTIVE REACTANCE.--See _Reactance, Inductive._ INDUCTION COIL.--See _Coil, Induction._ INDUCTION, MUTUAL.--Induction produced between two circuits or coils close to each other by the mutual interaction of their magnetic fields. INSULATION.--Materials used on and around wires and other conductors to keep the current from leaking away. INSPECTOR, RADIO.--A U. S. inspector whose business it is to issue both station and operators' licenses in the district of which he is in charge. INTERFERENCE.--The crossing or superposing of two sets of electric waves of the same or slightly different lengths which tend to oppose each other. It is the untoward interference between electric waves from different stations that makes selective signaling so difficult a problem. INTERMEDIATE WAVES.--See _Waves._ IONIC TUBES.--See _Vacuum Tubes._ INTERNATIONAL CODE.--See Code, International. JAMMING.--Waves that are of such length and strength that when they interfere with incoming waves they drown them out. JOULE.--The energy spent in 1 second by a flow of 1 ampere in 1 ohm. JOULE'S LAW.--The relation between the heat produced in seconds to the resistance of the circuit, to the current flowing in it. KENOTRON.--The trade name of a vacuum tube rectifier made by the _Radio Corporation of America._ KICK-BACK.--Oscillating currents that rise in voltage and tend to flow back through the circuit that is supplying the transmitter with low voltage current. KICK-BACK PREVENTION.--See _Prevention, Kick-Back._ KILOWATT.--1,000 watts. LAMBDA.--See Pages 301, 302. [Appendix: Useful Abbreviations]. LATTICE WOUND COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ LIGHTNING SWITCH.--See _Switch, Lightning._ LINE RADIO COMMUNICATION.--See _Wired Wireless._ LINE RADIO TELEPHONY.--See _Telephony, Line Radio._ LITZENDRAHT.--A conductor formed of a number of fine copper wires either twisted or braided together. It is used to reduce the _skin effect._ See _Resistance, High Frequency._ LOAD FLICKER.--The flickering of electric lights on lines that supply wireless transmitting sets due to variations of the voltage on opening and closing the key. LOADING COIL.--See _Coil, Loading._ LONG WAVES.--See _Waves._ LOOP AERIAL.--See _Aerial, Loop._ LOOSE COUPLED CIRCUITS.--See _Circuits, Loose Coupled._ LOUD SPEAKER.--A telephone receiver connected to a horn, or a specially made one, that reproduces the incoming signals, words or music loud enough to be heard by a room or an auditorium full of people, or by large crowds out-doors. MAGNETIC POLES.--See _Poles, Magnetic._ MEGOHM.--One million ohms. METER, AUDIBILITY.--An instrument for measuring the loudness of a signal by comparison with another signal. It consists of a pair of headphones and a variable resistance which have been calibrated. MHO.--The unit of conductance. As conductance is the reciprocal of resistance it is measured by the _reciprocal ohm_ or _mho._ MICA.--A transparent mineral having a high insulating value and which can be split into very thin sheets. It is largely used in making condensers both for transmitting and receiving sets. MICROFARAD.--The millionth part of a _farad._ MICROHENRY.--The millionth part of a _farad._ MICROMICROFARAD.--The millionth part of a _microfarad._ MICROHM.--The millionth part of an _ohm._ MICROPHONE TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Microphone._ MICROPHONE TRANSMITTER.--See _Transmitter, Microphone._ MILLI-AMMETER.--An ammeter that measures a current by the one-thousandth of an ampere. MODULATION.--(1) Inflection or varying the voice. (2) Varying the amplitude of oscillations by means of the voice. MODULATION, BUZZER.--The modulation of radio frequency oscillations by a buzzer which breaks up the sustained oscillations of a transmitter into audio frequency impulses. MILLIHENRY.--The thousandth part of a _henry._ MODULATION, CHOPPER.--The modulation of radio frequency oscillations by a chopper which breaks up the sustained oscillations of a transmitter into audio frequency impulses. MODULATION, GRID.--The scheme of modulating an oscillator tube by connecting the secondary of a transformer, the primary of which is connected with a battery and a microphone transmitter, in the grid lead. MODULATION, OVER.--See _Blub Blub._ MODULATION, PLATE.--Modulating the oscillations set up by a vacuum tube by varying the current impressed on the plate. MODULATOR TUBE.--A vacuum tube used as a modulator. MOTION, WAVE.--(1) The to and fro motion of water at sea. (2) Waves transmitted by, in and through the air, or sound waves. (3) Waves transmitted by, in and through the _ether,_ or _electromagnetic waves,_ or _electric waves_ for short. MOTOR-GENERATOR.--A motor and a dynamo built to run at the same speed and mounted on a common base, the shafts being coupled together. In wireless it is used for changing commercial direct current into direct current of higher voltages for energizing the plate of a vacuum tube oscillator. MULTI-STAGE AMPLIFIERS.--See _Amplifiers, Multi-Stage._ MUTUAL INDUCTION.--See _Induction, Mutual._ MUSH.--Irregular intermediate frequencies set up by arc transmitters which interfere with the fundamental wave lengths. MUSHY NOTE.--A note that is not clear cut, and hence hard to read, which is received by the _heterodyne method_ when damped waves or modulated continuous waves are being received. NATIONAL ELECTRIC CODE.--See _Code, National Electric._ NATIONAL ELECTRIC SAFETY CODE.--See _Code, National Electric Safety._ NEGATIVE ELECTRICITY.--See _Electricity, Negative._ NON-SYNCHRONOUS GAP.--See _Gap, Non-Synchronous._ OHM.--The resistance of a thread of mercury at the temperature of melting ice, 14.4521 grams in mass, of uniform cross-section and a length of 106.300 centimeters. OHM'S LAW.--The important fixed relation between the electric current, its electromotive force and the resistance of the conductor in which it flows. OPEN CIRCUIT.--See _Circuit, Open._ OPEN CORE TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Open Core._ OSCILLATION TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Oscillation._ OSCILLATIONS, ELECTRIC.--A current of high frequency that surges through an open or a closed circuit. (1) Electric oscillations may be set up by a spark gap, electric arc or a vacuum tube, when they have not only a high frequency but a high potential, or voltage. (2) When electric waves impinge on an aerial wire they are transformed into electric oscillations of a frequency equal to those which emitted the waves, but since a very small amount of energy is received their potential or voltage is likewise very small. Sustained.--Oscillations in which the damping factor is small. Damped.--Oscillations in which the damping factor is large. Free.--When a condenser discharges through an oscillation circuit, where there is no outside electromotive force acting on it, the oscillations are said to be _free._ Forced.--Oscillations that are made to surge in a circuit whose natural period is different from that of the oscillations set up in it. OSCILLATION TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer._ OSCILLATION VALVE.--See _Vacuum Tube._ OSCILLATOR TUBE.--A vacuum tube which is used to produce electric oscillations. OVER MODULATION.--See _Blub Blub._ PANCAKE OSCILLATION TRANSFORMER.--Disk-shaped coils that are used for receiving tuning inductances. PERMEABILITY, MAGNETIC.--The degree to which a substance can be magnetized. Iron has a greater magnetic permeability than air. PHASE.--A characteristic aspect or appearance that takes place at the same point or part of a cycle. PICK-UP CIRCUITS.--See _Circuits, Stand-by._ PLATE CIRCUIT REACTOR.--See _Reactor, Plate Circuit._ PLATE CURRENT.--See _Current, Plate._ PLATE MODULATION.--See _Modulation, Plate._ PLATE VOLTAGE.--See _Foliage, Plate._ POLES, BATTERY.--The positive and negative terminals of the elements of a battery. On a storage battery these poles are marked + and - respectively. POLES, MAGNETIC.--The ends of a magnet. POSITIVE ELECTRICITY.--See _Electricity, Positive._ POTENTIAL DIFFERENCE.--The electric pressure between two charged conductors or surfaces. POTENTIOMETER.--A variable resistance used for subdividing the voltage of a current. A _voltage divider._ POWER TRANSFORMER.--See _Transformer, Power._ POWER TUBE.--See _Generator Tube._ PRIMARY BATTERY.--See _Battery, Primary._ PREVENTION, KICK-BACK.--A choke coil placed in the power circuit to prevent the high frequency currents from getting into the transformer and breaking down the insulation. Q S T.--An abbreviation used in wireless communication for (1) the question "Have you received the general call?" and (2) the notice, "General call to all stations." QUENCHED GAP.--See _Gap, Quenched._ RADIATION.--The emission, or throwing off, of electric waves by an aerial wire system. RADIO AMMETER.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire._ RADIO FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Radio._ RADIO FREQUENCY AMPLIFICATION.--See _Amplification, Radio Frequency._ RADIO FREQUENCY CURRENT.--See _Current, Radio Frequency._ RADIO INSPECTOR.--See _Inspector, Radio_. RADIOTRON.--The trade name of vacuum tube detectors, amplifiers, oscillators and modulators made by the _Radio Corporation of America_. RADIO WAVES.--See _Waves, Radio_. REACTANCE.--When a circuit has inductance and the current changes in value, it is opposed by the voltage induced by the variation of the current. REACTANCE, CAPACITY.--The capacity reactance is the opposition offered to a current by a capacity. It is measured as a resistance, that is, in _ohms_. RECEIVING TUNING COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance_. RECEIVER, LOUD SPEAKING.--See _Loud Speakers_. RECEIVER, WATCH CASE.--A compact telephone receiver used for wireless reception. REACTANCE, INDUCTIVE.--The inductive reactance is the opposition offered to the current by an inductance coil. It is measured as a resistance, that is, in _ohms_. REACTOR, FILTER.--A reactance coil for smoothing out the pulsating direct currents as they come from the rectifier. REACTOR, PLATE CIRCUIT.--A reactance coil used in the plate circuit of a wireless telephone to keep the direct current supply at a constant voltage. RECEIVER.--(1) A telephone receiver. (2) An apparatus for receiving signals, speech or music. (3) Better called a _receptor_ to distinguish it from a telephone receiver. RECTIFIER.--(1) An apparatus for changing alternating current into pulsating direct current. (2) Specifically in wireless (_a_) a crystal or vacuum tube detector, and (_b_) a two-electrode vacuum tube used for changing commercial alternating current into direct current for wireless telephony. REGENERATIVE AMPLIFICATION.--See _Amplification, Regenerative_. RECEPTOR.--A receiving set. RECEPTOR, AUTODYNE.--A receptor that has a regenerative circuit and the same tube is used as a detector and as a generator of local oscillations. RECEPTOR, BEAT.--A heterodyne receptor. RECEPTOR, HETERODYNE.--A receiving set that uses a separate vacuum tube to set up the second series of waves for beat reception. REGENERATIVE ACTION.--See _Feed-Back Action._ REGENERATIVE AMPLIFICATION.--See _Amplification, Regenerative._ RELAY, ELECTRON.--A vacuum tube when used as a detector or an amplifier. REPEATING COIL.--A transformer used in connecting up a wireless receiver with a wire transmitter. RESISTANCE.--The opposition offered by a wire or other conductor to the passage of a current. RESISTANCE, AERIAL.--The resistance of the aerial wire to oscillating currents. This is greater than its ordinary ohmic resistance due to the skin effect. See _Resistance, High Frequency._ RESISTANCE BOX.--See _Resistor._ RESISTANCE COUPLING.--See _Coupling, Resistance._ RESISTANCE, HIGH FREQUENCY.--When a high frequency current oscillates on a wire two things take place that are different than when a direct or alternating current flows through it, and these are (1) the current inside of the wire lags behind that of the current on the surface, and (2) the amplitude of the current is largest on the surface and grows smaller as the center of the wire is reached. This uneven distribution of the current is known as the _skin effect_ and it amounts to the same thing as reducing the size of the wire, hence the resistance is increased. RESISTIVITY.--The resistance of a given length of wire of uniform cross section. The reciprocal of _conductivity._ RESISTOR.--A fixed or variable resistance unit or a group of such units. Variable resistors are also called _resistance boxes_ and more often _rheostats._ RESONANCE.--(1) Simple resonance of sound is its increase set up by one body by the sympathetic vibration of a second body. (2) By extension the increase in the amplitude of electric oscillations when the circuit in which they surge has a _natural_ period that is the same, or nearly the same, as the period of the first oscillation circuit. RHEOSTAT.--A variable resistance unit. See _Resistor._ RHEOSTAT, CARBON.--A carbon rod, or carbon plates or blocks, when used as variable resistances. RHEOSTAT, FILAMENT.--A variable resistance used for keeping the current of the storage battery which heats the filament of a vacuum tube at a constant voltage. ROTATING COIL.--See _Coil._ ROTARY GAP.--See _Gap._ ROTOR.--The rotating coil of a variometer or a variocoupler. RUHMKORFF COIL.--See _Coil, Induction._ SATURATION.--The maximum plate current that a vacuum tube will take. SENSITIVE SPOTS.--Spots on detector crystals that are sensitive to the action of electric oscillations. SHORT WAVES.--See _Waves._ SIDE WAVES.--See _Wave Length Band._ SIGNALS, CONVENTIONAL.--(1) The International Morse alphabet and numeral code, punctuation marks, and a few important abbreviations used in wireless telegraphy. (2) Dot and dash signals for distress call, invitation to transmit, etc. Now used for all general public service wireless communication. SKIN EFFECT.--See _Resistance, High Frequency._ SOFT TUBE.--A vacuum tube in which the vacuum is low, that is, it is not highly exhausted. SPACE CHARGE EFFECT.--The electric field intensity due to the pressure of the negative electrons in the space between the filament and plate which at last equals and neutralizes that due to the positive potential of the plate so that there is no force acting on the electrons near the filament. SPARK.--See _Discharge._ SPARK COIL.--See _Coil, Induction._ SPARK DISCHARGE.--See _Spark, Electric._ SPARK FREQUENCY.--See _Frequency, Spark._ SPARK GAP.--(1) A _spark gap,_ without the hyphen, means the apparatus in which sparks take place; it is also called a _spark discharger._ (2) _Spark-gap,_ with the hyphen, means the air-gap between the opposed faces of the electrodes in which sparks are produced. Plain.--A spark gap with fixed electrodes. Rotary.--A spark gap with a pair of fixed electrodes and a number of electrodes mounted on a rotating element. Quenched.--A spark gap formed of a number of metal plates placed closely together and insulated from each other. SPIDER WEB INDUCTANCE COIL.--See _Coil, Spider Web Inductance._ SPREADER.--A stick of wood, or spar, that holds the wires of the aerial apart. STAGGER WOUND COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ STAND-BY CIRCUITS.--See _Circuits, Stand-By._ STATIC.--Also called _atmospherics, grinders, strays, X's,_ and, when bad enough, by other names. It is an electrical disturbance in the atmosphere which makes noises in the telephone receiver. STATOR.--The fixed or stationary coil of a variometer or a variocoupler. STORAGE BATTERY.--See _Battery, Storage._ STRAY ELIMINATION.--A method for increasing the strength of the signals as against the strength of the strays. See _Static._ STRAYS.--See _Static_. STRANDED WIRE.--See _Wire, Stranded_. SUPER-HETERODYNE RECEPTOR.--See _Heterodyne, Super_. SWINGING.--See _Fading_. SWITCH, AERIAL.--A switch used to change over from the sending to the receiving set, and the other way about, and connect them with the aerial. SWITCH, LIGHTNING.--The switch that connects the aerial with the outside ground when the apparatus is not in use. SYMBOLS, APPARATUS.--Also called _conventional symbols_. These are diagrammatic lines representing various parts of apparatus so that when a wiring diagram of a transmitter or a receptor is to be made it is only necessary to connect them together. They are easy to make and easy to read. See Page 307 [Appendix: Symbols Used for Apparatus]. SYNCHRONOUS GAP.--See _Gap, Synchronous_. TELEPHONY, LINE RADIO.--See _Wired Wireless_. THERMAL AMMETER.--See _Ammeter, Hot Wire_. THREE ELECTRODE VACUUM TUBE.--_See Vacuum Tube, Three Electrode_. TIKKER.--A slipping contact device that breaks up the sustained oscillations at the receiving end into groups so that the signals can be heard in the head phones. The device usually consists of a fine steel or gold wire slipping in the smooth groove of a rotating brass wheel. TRANSFORMER.--A primary and a secondary coil for stepping up or down a primary alternating or oscillating current. A. C.--See _Power Transformer_. Air Cooled.--A transformer in which the coils are exposed to the air. Air Core.--With high frequency currents it is the general practice not to use iron cores as these tend to choke off the oscillations. Hence the core consists of the air inside of the coils. Auto.--A single coil of wire in which one part forms the primary and the other part the secondary by bringing out an intermediate tap. Audio Amplifying.--This is a transformer with an iron core and is used for frequencies up to say 3,000. Closed Core.--A transformer in which the path of the magnetic flux is entirely through iron. Power transformers have closed cores. Microphone.--A small transformer for modulating the oscillations set up by an arc or a vacuum tube oscillator. Oil Cooled.--A transformer in which the coils are immersed in oil. Open Core.--A transformer in which the path of the magnetic flux is partly through iron and partly through air. Induction coils have open cores. Oscillation.--A coil or coils for transforming or stepping down or up oscillating currents. Oscillation transformers usually have no iron cores when they are also called _air core transformers._ Power.--A transformer for stepping down a commercial alternating current for lighting and heating the filament and for stepping up the commercial a.c., for charging the plate of a vacuum tube oscillator. Radio Amplifying.--This is a transformer with an air core. It does not in itself amplify but is so called because it is used in connection with an amplifying tube. TRANSMITTER, MICROPHONE.--A telephone transmitter of the kind that is used in the Bell telephone system. TRANSMITTING TUNING COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ TUNING.--When the open and closed oscillation circuits of a transmitter or a receptor are adjusted so that both of the former will permit electric oscillations to surge through them with the same frequency, they are said to be tuned. Likewise, when the sending and receiving stations are adjusted to the same wave length they are said to be _tuned._ Coarse Tuning.--The first adjustment in the tuning oscillation circuits of a receptor is made with the inductance coil and this tunes them coarse, or roughly. Fine Tuning.--After the oscillation circuits have been roughly tuned with the inductance coil the exact adjustment is obtained with the variable condenser and this is _fine tuning._ Sharp.--When a sending set will transmit or a receiving set will receive a wave of given length only it is said to be sharply tuned. The smaller the decrement the sharper the tuning. TUNING COILS.--See _Coils, Inductance._ TWO ELECTRODE VACUUM TUBE.--See _Vacuum Tube, Two Electrode._ VACUUM TUBE.--A tube with two or three electrodes from which the air has been exhausted, or which is filled with an inert gas, and used as a detector, an amplifier, an oscillator or a modulator in wireless telegraphy and telephony. Amplifier.--See _Amplifier, Vacuum Tube._ Amplifying Modulator.--A vacuum tube used for modulating and amplifying the oscillations set up by the sending set. Gas Content.--A tube made like a vacuum tube and used as a detector but which contains an inert gas instead of being exhausted. Hard.--See _Hard Tube._ Rectifier.--(1) A vacuum tube detector. (2) a two-electrode vacuum tube used for changing commercial alternating current into direct current for wireless telephony. Soft.--See _Soft Tube._ Three Electrode.--A vacuum tube with three electrodes, namely a filament, a grid and a plate. Two Electrode.--A vacuum tube with two electrodes, namely the filament and the plate. VALVE.--See _Vacuum Tube._ VALVE, FLEMING.--See _Fleming Valve._ VARIABLE CONDENSER.--See _Condenser, Variable._ VARIABLE INDUCTANCE.--See _Inductance, Variable._ VARIABLE RESISTANCE.--See _Resistance, Variable._ VARIOCOUPLER.--A tuning device for varying the inductance of the receiving oscillation circuits. It consists of a fixed and a rotatable coil whose windings are not connected with each other. VARIOMETER.--A tuning device for varying the inductance of the receiving oscillation currents. It consists of a fixed and a rotatable coil with the coils connected in series. VERNIER CONDENSER.--See _Condenser, Vernier._ VOLT.--The electromotive force which produces a current of 1 ampere when steadily applied to a conductor the resistance of which is one ohm. VOLTAGE DIVIDER.--See _Potentiometer._ VOLTAGE, PLATE.--The voltage of the current that is used to energize the plate of a vacuum tube. VOLTMETER.--An instrument for measuring the voltage of an electric current. WATCH CASE RECEIVER.--See _Receiver, Watch Case._ WATER-PIPE GROUND.--See _Ground, Water-Pipe._ WATT.--The power spent by a current of 1 ampere in a resistance of 1 ohm. WAVE, BROAD.--A wave having a high decrement, when the strength of the signals is nearly the same over a wide range of wave lengths. WAVE LENGTH.--Every wave of whatever kind has a length. The wave length is usually taken to mean the distance between the crests of two successive waves. WAVE LENGTH BAND.--In wireless reception when continuous waves are being sent out and these are modulated by a microphone transmitter the different audio frequencies set up corresponding radio frequencies and the energy of these are emitted by the aerial; this results in waves of different lengths, or a band of waves as it is called. WAVE METER.--An apparatus for measuring the lengths of electric waves set up in the oscillation circuits of sending and receiving sets. WAVE MOTION.--Disturbances set up in the surrounding medium as water waves in and on the water, sound waves in the air and electric waves in the ether. WAVES.--See _Wave Motion_. WAVES, ELECTRIC.--Electromagnetic waves set up in and transmitted by and through the ether. Continuous. Abbreviated C.W.--Waves that are emitted without a break from the aerial. Also called _undamped waves_. Discontinuous.--Waves that are emitted periodically from the aerial. Also called _damped waves_. Damped.--See _Discontinuous Waves_. Intermediate.--Waves from 600 to 2,000 meters in length. Long.--Waves over 2,000 meters in length. Radio.--Electric waves used in wireless telegraphy and telephony. Short.--Waves up to 600 meters in length. Wireless.--Electric waves used in wireless telegraphy and telephony. Undamped.--See _Continuous Waves_. WIRELESS TELEGRAPH CODE.--See _Code, International_. WIRE, ENAMELLED.--Wire that is given a thin coat of enamel which insulates it. WIRE, PHOSPHOR BRONZE.--A very strong wire made of an alloy of copper and containing a trace of phosphorus. WIRED WIRELESS.--Continuous waves of high frequency that are sent over telephone wires instead of through space. Also called _line radio communication; carrier frequency telephony, carrier current telephony; guided wave telephony_ and _wired wireless._ X'S.--See _Static._ ZINCITE.--See _Detector._ WIRELESS DON'TS AERIAL WIRE DON'TS _Don't_ use iron wire for your aerial. _Don't_ fail to insulate it well at both ends. _Don't_ have it longer than 75 feet for sending out a 200-meter wave. _Don't_ fail to use a lightning arrester, or better, a lightning switch, for your receiving set. _Don't_ fail to use a lightning switch with your transmitting set. _Don't_ forget you must have an outside ground. _Don't_ fail to have the resistance of your aerial as small as possible. Use stranded wire. _Don't_ fail to solder the leading-in wire to the aerial. _Don't_ fail to properly insulate the leading-in wire where it goes through the window or wall. _Don't_ let your aerial or leading-in wire touch trees or other objects. _Don't_ let your aerial come too close to overhead wires of any kind. _Don't_ run your aerial directly under, or over, or parallel with electric light or other wires. _Don't_ fail to make a good ground connection with the water pipe inside. TRANSMITTING DON'TS _Don't_ attempt to send until you get your license. _Don't_ fail to live up to every rule and regulation. _Don't_ use an input of more than 1/2 a kilowatt if you live within 5 nautical miles of a naval station. _Don't_ send on more than a 200-meter wave if you have a restricted or general amateur license. _Don't_ use spark gap electrodes that are too small or they will get hot. _Don't_ use too long or too short a spark gap. The right length can be found by trying it out. _Don't_ fail to use a safety spark gap between the grid and the filament terminals where the plate potential is above 2,000 volts. _Don't_ buy a motor-generator set if you have commercial alternating current in your home. _Don't_ overload an oscillation vacuum tube as it will greatly shorten its life. Use two in parallel. _Don't_ operate a transmitting set without a hot-wire ammeter in the aerial. _Don't_ use solid wire for connecting up the parts of transmitters. Use stranded or braided wire. _Don't_ fail to solder each connection. _Don't_ use soldering fluid, use rosin. _Don't_ think that all of the energy of an oscillation tube cannot be used for wave lengths of 200 meters and under. It can be if the transmitting set and aerial are properly designed. _Don't_ run the wires of oscillation circuits too close together. _Don't_ cross the wires of oscillation circuits except at right angles. _Don't_ set the transformer of a transmitting set nearer than 3 feet to the condenser and tuning coil. _Don't_ use a rotary gap in which the wheel runs out of true. RECEIVING DON'TS _Don't_ expect to get as good results with a crystal detector as with a vacuum tube detector. _Don't_ be discouraged if you fail to hit the sensitive spot of a crystal detector the first time--or several times thereafter. _Don't_ use a wire larger than _No. 80_ for the wire electrode of a crystal detector. _Don't_ try to use a loud speaker with a crystal detector receiving set. _Don't_ expect a loop aerial to give worthwhile results with a crystal detector. _Don't_ handle crystals with your fingers as this destroys their sensitivity. Use tweezers or a cloth. _Don't_ imbed the crystal in solder as the heat destroys its sensitivity. Use _Wood's metal,_ or some other alloy which melts at or near the temperature of boiling water. _Don't_ forget that strong static and strong signals sometimes destroy the sensitivity of crystals. _Don't_ heat the filament of a vacuum tube to greater brilliancy than is necessary to secure the sensitiveness required. _Don't_ use a plate voltage that is less or more than it is rated for. _Don't_ connect the filament to a lighting circuit. _Don't_ use dry cells for heating the filament except in a pinch. _Don't_ use a constant current to heat the filament, use a constant voltage. _Don't_ use a vacuum tube in a horizontal position unless it is made to be so used. _Don't_ fail to properly insulate the grid and plate leads. _Don't_ use more than 1/3 of the rated voltage on the filament and on the plate when trying it out for the first time. _Don't_ fail to use alternating current for heating the filament where this is possible. _Don't_ fail to use a voltmeter to find the proper temperature of the filament. _Don't_ expect to get results with a loud speaker when using a single vacuum tube. _Don't_ fail to protect your vacuum tubes from mechanical shocks and vibration. _Don't_ fail to cut off the A battery entirely from the filament when you are through receiving. _Don't_ switch on the A battery current all at once through the filament when you start to receive. _Don't_ expect to get the best results with a gas-content detector tube without using a potentiometer. _Don't_ connect a potentiometer across the B battery or it will speedily run down. _Don't_ expect to get as good results with a single coil tuner as you would with a loose coupler. _Don't_ expect to get as good results with a two-coil tuner as with one having a third, or _tickler_, coil. _Don't_ think you have to use a regenerative circuit, that is, one with a tickler coil, to receive with a vacuum tube detector. _Don't_ think you are the only amateur who is troubled with static. _Don't_ expect to eliminate interference if the amateurs around you are sending with spark sets. _Don't_ lay out or assemble your set on a panel first. Connect it up on a board and find out if everything is right. _Don't_ try to connect up your set without a wiring diagram in front of you. _Don't_ fail to shield radio frequency amplifiers. _Don't_ set the axes of the cores of radio frequency transformers in a line. Set them at right angles to each other. _Don't_ use wire smaller than _No. 14_ for connecting up the various parts. _Don't_ fail to adjust the B battery after putting in a fresh vacuum tube, as its sensitivity depends largely on the voltage. _Don't_ fail to properly space the parts where you use variometers. _Don't_ fail to put a copper shield between the variometer and the variocoupler. _Don't_ fail to keep the leads to the vacuum tube as short as possible. _Don't_ throw your receiving set out of the window if it _howls_. Try placing the audio-frequency transformers farther apart and the cores of them at right angles to each other. _Don't_ use condensers with paper dielectrics for an amplifier receiving set or it will be noisy. _Don't_ expect as good results with a loop aerial, or when using the bed springs, as an out-door aerial will give you. _Don't_ use an amplifier having a plate potential of less than 100 volts for the last step where a loud speaker is to be used. _Don't_ try to assemble a set if you don't know the difference between a binding post and a blue print. Buy a set ready to use. _Don't_ expect to get Arlington time signals and the big cableless stations if your receiver is made for short wave lengths. _Don't_ take your headphones apart. You are just as apt to spoil them as you would a watch. _Don't_ expect to get results with a Bell telephone receiver. _Don't_ forget that there are other operators using the ether besides yourself. _Don't_ let your B battery get damp and don't let it freeze. _Don't_ try to recharge your B battery unless it is constructed for the purpose. STORAGE BATTERY DON'TS _Don't_ connect a source of alternating current direct to your storage battery. You have to use a rectifier. _Don't_ connect the positive lead of the charging circuit with the negative terminal of your storage battery. _Don't_ let the electrolyte get lower than the tops of the plates of your storage battery. _Don't_ fail to look after the condition of your storage battery once in a while. _Don't_ buy a storage battery that gives less than 6 volts for heating the filament. _Don't_ fail to keep the specific gravity of the electrolyte of your storage battery between 1.225 and 1.300 Baume. This you can do with a hydrometer. _Don't_ fail to recharge your storage battery when the hydrometer shows that the specific gravity of the electrolyte is close to 1.225. _Don't_ keep charging the battery after the hydrometer shows that the specific gravity is 1.285. _Don't_ let the storage battery freeze. _Don't_ let it stand for longer than a month without using unless you charge it. _Don't_ monkey with the storage battery except to add a little sulphuric acid to the electrolyte from time to time. If anything goes wrong with it better take it to a service station and let the expert do it. EXTRA DON'TS _Don't_ think you have an up-to-date transmitting station unless you are using C.W. _Don't_ use a wire from your lightning switch down to the outside ground that is smaller than No. _4_. _Don't_ try to operate your spark coil with 110-volt direct lighting current without connecting in a rheostat. _Don't_ try to operate your spark coil with 110-volt alternating lighting current without connecting in an electrolytic interrupter. _Don't_ try to operate an alternating current power transformer with 110-volt direct current without connecting in an electrolytic interruptor. _Don't_--no never--connect one side of the spark gap to the aerial wire and the other side of the spark gap to the ground. The Government won't have it--that's all. _Don't_ try to tune your transmitter to send out waves of given length by guesswork. Use a wavemeter. _Don't_ use _hard fiber_ for panels. It is a very poor insulator where high frequency currents are used. _Don't_ think you are the only one who doesn't know all about wireless. Wireless is a very complex art and there are many things that those experienced have still to learn. THE END. 
7899	----	[Illustration: "THERE IT IS!" CRIED JOE, AS THE MUSIC SUDDENLY BURST UPON THEIR EARS] THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS OR WINNING THE FERBERTON PRIZE BY ALLEN CHAPMAN FOREWORD BY JACK BINNS It is very appropriate at this moment when radio has taken the country by storm, and aroused an enthusiasm never before equaled, that the possibilities for boys in this art should be brought out in the interesting and readable manner shown in the first book of this series. Radio is still a young science, and some of the most remarkable advances in it have been contributed by amateurs--that is, by boy experimenters. It is never too late to start in the fascinating game, and the reward for the successful experimenter is rich both in honor and recompense. Just take the case of E. H. Armstrong, one of the most famous of all the amateurs in this country. He started in as a boy at home, in Yonkers, experimenting with home-made apparatus, and discovered the circuit that has revolutionized radio transmission and reception. His circuit has made it possible to broadcast music, and speech, and it has brought him world-wide fame. He had no elaborate laboratory in which to experiment, but he persevered and won out. Like the Radio Boys in this story, he was confronted with all kinds of odds, but with true American spirit he stuck to his task and triumphed. The attitude of the government toward the wireless amateur is well illustrated by the expressions of Secretary of Commerce Herbert Hoover, and is summed up in his declaration, "I am for the American boy." No other country in the world offers such opportunities to boy experimenters in the radio field. The government realizes that there is always a possibility of other important discoveries being made by the boy experimenters, and that is the reason it encourages the amateur. Don't be discouraged because Edison came before you. There is still plenty of opportunity for you to become a new Edison, and no science offers the possibilities in this respect as does radio communication. Jack Binns March 30th 1922 CONTENTS I. THE AUTO CRASH II. TAKING CHANCES III. WONDERS OF WIRELESS IV. MYSTERIOUS FORCES V. CROOKED WORK VI. A PRACTICAL OBJECT LESSON VII. IN THE DARK VIII. GETTING A START IX. WORK AND FUN X. A STEALTHY RASCAL XI. CLEVER THINKING XII. FORGING AHEAD XIII. THRASHING A BULLY XIV. ON THE VERGE XV. THE FINISHING TOUCH XVI. SWEETS OF VICTORY XVII. THE FERBERTON PRIZE XVIII. FRIENDLY RIVALS XIX. A SPLENDID INSPIRATION XX. THE TIME OF THEIR LIVES XXI. THE VOICE THAT STUTTERED XXII. THE STOLEN SET XXIII. BATTERING IN THE DOOR XXIV. ON THE TRAIL XXV. THE PRIZE THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS CHAPTER I THE AUTO CRASH "How about it, Joe?" asked Bob Layton of his chum, Joe Atwood, as they came out of school one afternoon, swinging their books by straps over their shoulders. "Going up to Dr. Dale's house to-night?" "You bet I am," replied Joe enthusiastically. "I wouldn't miss it for a farm. I'm keen to know more about this wireless business, and I'm sure the doctor can tell us more about it than any one else." "He sure does get a fellow interested," agreed Bob. "He isn't a bit preachy about it, either. Just talks to you in words you can understand. But all the time you know he's got a lot back of it and could tell you ten times as much about it if you asked him. Makes you feel safe when you listen to him. Not a bit of guesswork or anything like that." "What are you fellows chinning about?" asked Jimmy Plummer, one of their schoolmates, who came up to them at that moment. "You seem all worked up about something." "It's about that talk Dr. Dale is going to give us to-night on the wireless telephone," answered Bob, as he edged over a little to give Jimmy room to walk beside them. "You're going, aren't you? The doctor said he wanted all the boys to come who could." "Do you suppose there'll be any eats?" asked Jimmy, who was round and fat, and who went by the nickname of "Doughnuts" among his mates because of his fondness for that special delicacy. "Always thinking of that precious stomach of yours!" laughed Bob. "Jimmy, I'm ashamed of you. You're getting so fat now that pretty soon you won't have to walk to school. You can just roll there like a barrel." "You string beans are only jealous because I get more fun out of eating than you do," declared Jimmy, with a grin. "But eats or no eats, I'm going to hear what the doctor has to say. I got a letter the other day from a cousin of mine out in Michigan, and he told me all about a set that he'd made and put up himself. Said he was just crazy about it. Wanted me to go into it so that he and I might talk together. Of course, though, I guess he was just kidding me about that. Michigan's a long way off, and it takes more than a day to get there on a train." "Distance doesn't make much difference," declared Bob. "Already they've talked across the Atlantic Ocean." "Not amateurs?" objected Joe incredulously. "Yes, even amateurs," affirmed Bob. "My dad was reading in the papers the other night about a man in New Jersey who was talking to a friend near by and told him that he was going to play a phonograph record for him. A man over in Scotland, over three thousand miles away, heard every word he said and heard the music of the phonograph too. A ship two thousand miles out on the Atlantic heard the same record, and so did another ship in a harbor in Central America. Of course, the paper said, that was only a freak, and amateur sets couldn't do that once in a million times. But it did it that time, all right. I tell you, fellows, that wireless telephone is a wonder. Talk about the stories of the Arabian Nights! They aren't in it." There was a loud guffaw behind the lads, accompanied by snickers, and the friends turned around to see three boys following them. One of them, who was apparently the leader of the trio, was a big, unwieldy boy of sixteen, a year older and considerably larger than Bob and Joe. His eyes were close together, and he had a look of coarseness and arrogance that denoted the bully. Buck Looker, as he was called--his first name was Buckley--was generally unpopular among the boys, but as he was the son of one of the richest men of the town he usually had one or two cronies who hung about him for what they could get. One of these, Carl Lutz, an unwholesome looking boy, somewhat younger than Buck, was walking beside him, and on the side nearer the curb was Terry Mooney, the youngest of the three, a boy whose, furtive eyes carried in them a suggestion of treachery and sneakiness. "What's the joke, Buck?" asked Bob coldly, as he looked from one to the other of the sniggering faces. "You're the joke," answered Buck insolently; "that is, if you believe all that stuff I heard you pulling off just now. You must be easy if you fall for that." "I wasn't talking to you," replied Bob, restraining himself with some difficulty. "But since you've butted in, perhaps you'll tell me just what it is that's so funny about the wireless telephone." "The whole thing is bunk, if you ask me," replied Buck with the confidence that so often goes with ignorance. "Telephoning without wires! You might as well talk of walking without legs." This argument seemed to him so overpowering that he swelled out his chest and looked triumphantly at his two companions, whose faces instantly took on the same expression. "You made a ten strike that time, Buck," declared Lutz, clapping him on the shoulder. "Hit the target right in the bull's-eye," chimed in Terry, with a smirk. Bob and Joe and Jimmy looked at each other, and, despite their resentment, had all they could do to keep from breaking into laughter. Buck noticed their amused expression, and his coarse face grew red and mottled. "Well," he demanded, "what have you got to say to that? Am I right or ain't I?" "You're wrong," replied Joe promptly. "Dead wrong. You're so far from the truth that you couldn't see it with a telescope. You're talking like a ham sandwich." "Look out what you're saying, Joe Atwood, or I'll make you sorry for it," threatened Buck, as he clinched his fist, an ugly look coming into his eyes. "I apologize," said Joe. "That is, I apologize to the ham sandwich." Bob laid a restraining hand on his friend's arm. "Easy, Joe," he counseled. "Listen, Buck," he went on. "Did you ever hear of Marconi?" "Sure, I did," replied Buck. "He's the fellow that had the fight with Julius Caesar. The one that Cleopatra was dippy about." "No," said Bob patiently. "You're thinking of Mark Antony. He's been dead for more than eighteen hundred years. The man I mean is a very live one. He's the inventor of wireless telegraphy." "Never heard of him," muttered Buck sullenly. "Well, since you never heard of him, we'll mention some one else," continued Bob. "I was only going to say that he's a pretty brainy fellow, and he believes in the wireless telephone. Then there's Edison. Perhaps you've heard of him?" "Of course I have," blurted Buck furiously. "Say, what are you trying to do? Make a fool of me?" "Nature's done that already," Joe put in, but Bob checked him. "I'm simply trying to show," Bob explained, "that if we're 'easy,' as you call it, in 'falling for that stuff,' there are a lot of able men in the United States who are in the same boat with us. In fact there isn't a man of brains and education in the country who doesn't believe in it." "Do you mean to say that I haven't any brains?" cried Buck in a fury. "Not exactly that," replied Bob. "But perhaps you don't use what brains you have. That happens sometimes, you know." "I guess a fellow's got a right to his own opinions," blustered Carl Lutz, coming to the rescue of his discomfited leader. "Of course he has," retorted Joe. "But when it's that kind of opinion he ought to put on the soft pedal. Any one has a right to have a club foot or a hunched back or cross eyes, but he doesn't usually go round boasting of them." "You're a wise bunch, I'll tell the world," sneered Buck in lieu of a more stinging retort. "Not at all," replied Joe. "It's you that claim to be wiser than Edison and the rest of them. But you mustn't think because you have water on the brain that you're the whole ocean." The air was full of electricity and matters were tense between the two groups when a diversion came in the form of a halloo from the other side of the street, and Herb Fennington, a special friend of Bob and Joe, came running over to greet them. They stopped for a moment, and Buck and his cronies passed on, favoring Bob, Joe and Jimmy with malignant scowls as they did so. "Hello, Herb!" called Bob, as the latter came up to them, a little breathless from running. "Hello, fellows!" returned Herb, as he looked after Buck and his companions. "What's up with Buck and his gang? Looked as if there was going to be a fight about something." "Not so bad as that, I guess," replied Bob, with a laugh, "though Buck did look as though he'd like to take a swing at us." "I only wish he had," grunted Joe. "That fellow certainly gets me mad, and I wouldn't mind at all having some excuse for pitching into him." "What was it all about?" asked Herb, with lively curiosity. "He heard us talking about the wireless telephone and butted in," explained Bob. "Practically told us we were fools for believing that there is such a thing." Herb laughed outright. "Sounds like Buck," he commented. "What he doesn't know would fill a book." "A whole library you mean," corrected Joe. "A library then," agreed Herb, as the boys resumed their walk, which had now brought them close to the business part of the town. "But say, fellows, forget about Buck and listen to this. It's a good one that I heard yesterday. Why is--" He was interrupted by a shout from Bob. "Look," he cried, "look at that auto! It's running wild!" Their startled eyes followed the direction of Bob's pointing finger. An automobile was describing curious antics in the middle of the street. It made short dashes here and there, hesitated, zigzagged. Then it turned suddenly toward the curb, dashed on the sidewalk and amid a crash of broken glass plunged through the plate glass windows of a store. CHAPTER II TAKING CHANCES There was a moment of stupefaction on the part of the boys at the suddenness of what promised to be a tragedy. Then in a flash they came to life. "There was a girl in that auto!" cried Bob, as he dashed toward the store, the others following close on his heels. "Hurry up, fellows. She may be badly hurt." "More likely killed," muttered Joe. "Don't see how any one could live through that." The store through whose windows the car had dashed was the largest paint and hardware store in the town. The crash had resounded far and near, and people were rushing toward it from all directions. The boys reached the place first, however. They opened the door and raced in, only to be greeted with a heavy volume of smoke, through which flickered tongues of fire. In the midst of a mass of débris was standing the wrecked auto. The gasoline tank had been smashed by the impact, and the contents, luckily a small amount, had been scattered over the place and come in contact with a stove. The flames had spread to a large part of the paints and oils and other inflammable materials that the store contained. One of the clerks in the place had been hit and stunned by the car, while two others, together with the proprietor and a customer, were making desperate attempts to beat out the flames. Bob's quick eye caught sight of a case of hand grenades standing near the entrance, and his qualities of leadership came into play at once. "Grab those grenades, you, Herb, and, you, Jimmy," he cried, "and throw them where they're most needed. Come with me, Joe, and get that girl out of the car. Quick!" In a twinkling, Herb and Jimmy were hurling the grenades at the points where the fire seemed to have gained most headway, while Bob and Joe worked their way over the mass of boxes and wrecked fixtures to the place where the runaway automobile had ended its mad rush. The plate glass windows had reached almost to the ground, so that the automobile with its great momentum had easily surmounted the sills and reached nearly the middle of the store. One wheel had been torn off, the windshield was shattered into fragments, and the front of the machine had been crushed in. In the driver's seat, still with her hand on the wheel, was the figure of a girl. No sound came from her, and from the way her body drooped forward, limp and motionless, it was evident that she was either unconscious or dead. The boys feared the worst, especially when they saw a stream of blood trickling down from a wound near her temple. They worked at top speed, trying to reach her and draw her out from the driver's seat. But the bent and tangled mass of wreckage held her captive, and it was only after other willing hands had come to their assistance that they were able to lift her from the car. They bore her to a point just outside the door, and laid her on some boxes that were hurriedly placed side by side. Her eyes were closed and she was deadly pale, the whiteness of her face being accentuated by the blood that dripped from her wound. She was a young girl, apparently no more than twenty, and was quietly though tastefully dressed. It was evident that she still breathed, and a slight fluttering of the eyelids indicated that she was returning to consciousness. Directly across the street was the Sterling House, named after its proprietor, and Mrs. Sterling, a motherly looking woman, who was among those who crowded around to look and help, recognized the girl at once. "Why, she's one of our guests!" she exclaimed. "Her name is Berwick--Miss Nellie Berwick--and she's been staying with us for the last three days. Some of you bring her across to her room, and some one else hurry and get a doctor. Oh, there's Dr. Ellis now!" she exclaimed with great relief, as she descried a tall figure in the crowd hurrying to the side of the injured girl. Under the doctor's directions, Bob and Joe, assisted by two others, lifted the girl and carried her across to the hotel. And while they are engaged in this work of helpfulness, it may be well for a better understanding of our story to sketch briefly the careers of Bob and Joe and their friends and the surroundings in which they had been brought up. Bob Layton was the son of Henry Layton, the leading druggist and chemist of the town. Bob had been born and brought up in Clintonia, which was a thriving town of about ten thousand inhabitants in an Eastern state, about seventy-five miles from New York City. It was located on the Shagary river, a stream that afforded abundant opportunities for boating, fishing, and swimming, and was a source of endless pastime and recreation for the boys. Bob, at the time this story opens, was fifteen years old, of rather dark complexion, and was tall and well-developed for his age. He was vigorous and athletic and a lover of outdoor sports. His magnetism and vitality made him a "live wire," and he was the natural leader among the boys with whom he associated. His nature was frank and friendly, and he was extremely popular with all those who were worth while. With that he had a quick temper, which he had learned, however, to keep under control. He never looked for trouble, but at the same time he never side-stepped it, and any one who tried to bulldoze and impose on him speedily found that he had picked out the wrong person. Joe Atwood, Bob's special chum, was a boy of about the same age and was the son of Dr. Atwood, a prominent and respected physician of the town. Between him and Bob a warm friendship existed, and where one was found the other was certain to be not very far off. He had a fair complexion with merry blue eyes, that, however, could flash fire on occasion. As has already been seen in his interchanges with Buck Looker, he had a "quick trigger" tongue, and was likely to say a thing first and regret it afterward, because he had gone perhaps too far. Bob, as the more self controlled of the chums, served as a sort of check on the impulsiveness of his friend, and had many times kept him out of trouble. Joe shared Bob's fondness for athletic sports, and, like him, was a leading spirit in the baseball and football teams of the town. Another thing that drew the boys together was their keen interest in anything pertaining to science. Each had marked mechanical ability, and would at any time rather put a contrivance together by their own efforts than to have it bought for them ready made. It was this quality that had made them enthusiastic regarding the wonders of the wireless telephone. Herbert Fennington was a year younger than the others and the son of one of the principal merchants of Clintonia. He was lively, full of fun and jokes and an all-around "good fellow." Jimmy Plummer was fourteen, round, fat, lazy, and good-natured, and a great lover of the good things of life. His father was a carpenter, thrifty, respected and a good citizen. As the boys all lived on West Main Street, a pleasant, shaded street about a quarter of a mile from the business center of the town, and within a few doors of each other, they were naturally thrown much together both in the daytime and when in the evenings they foregathered at each other's homes to study together the lessons for the next day or to indulge in a few hours of fun and recreation. The boys reached the hotel with their helpless burden and carried the girl upstairs to her room, where Mrs. Sterling had everything in readiness for her reception. Then the doctor took her in hand and the boys withdrew to the lobby of the hotel, where they planned to wait for a few minutes until the results of the doctor's examination could become known. Now for the first time since the excitement began they had time to think of themselves, and when they looked at each other they could hardly forbear from laughing outright at the picture they presented. They were begrimed with smoke and grease, their clothes were rumpled and soiled, and Bob's sleeve had been split from shoulder to elbow, where it had been caught by a jagged strip of the material of the wrecked car. "You look like a stoker from the hold of an ocean steamer," gibed Joe, as he looked at the unkempt figure of his friend. "It's dollars to doughnuts that you look just as bad," responded Bob, with a grin, as he made a break for the washroom, followed by his chum. In the work of washing themselves, they found that it was not only their clothes and appearance that had suffered. Each had a number of scratches and blisters that they had not felt during the stirring period of rescue but that now made their presence known. But these, after all, were trifles, and they took them as simply a part of the day's work. They had only a few minutes to wait before the tall figure of the doctor emerged from the sick room and descended the stairs. The expression on his face reassured them, as they hurried forward to hear his verdict. "There's no danger," he declared, as soon as he came within speaking distance, "though how she got off as easily as she did is almost a miracle. The crushed front and top of the machine acted as a sort of protection for her. The cut on the side of the face must have been made by a splinter of flying glass from the windshield. What she is suffering principally from is shock, and that's no wonder. Even one of you rough and ready youngsters," he added with a smile, "would find it a shock to go flying through a plate glass window." "Sure thing," said Bob in reply. "I'm mighty glad to know that things aren't any worse with her. I didn't think when we rushed in that we'd find her alive at all." "You boys deserve great credit for the quickness and decision with which you acted," the doctor said gravely. "The fire might have reached her in a few seconds more. I'm told that the auto caught fire just after you got her out. "By the way," he added, as he started to leave the hotel, "she has been told of the way you rescued her, and she is very grateful. She wanted me to let you come in so that she could thank you in person, but in her present weakened state I didn't think it advisable. I told her, though, that I would speak to you about it, and that if you so desired you could call on her tomorrow." "We'll be glad to," answered Bob, and Joe nodded his assent as the doctor with a wave of the hand went down the steps. The boys followed him a moment later and went across the street to view the scene of the wreck. The fire had been put out, and the local fire company, which had been summoned to the scene, was rolling up the hose and getting ready to depart. The proprietor and clerks of the store, with the aid of volunteers, had drawn the wreck of the partly burned automobile from the store, and it stood in the street, a melancholy ruin. It was clear that as an auto its day of usefulness was over. A large crowd still lingered about the spot, discussing the accident, which by its unique features had thoroughly stirred up the town. It was not often that an auto took a flying leap into a store and the story of why and how it happened was sure to furnish a topic of discussion for many days to come. Bob and Joe, as two of the principal figures in the event, were surrounded at once and besieged with questions. Many were the commendations also that were showered upon them for their courage and presence of mind. "Oh, that wasn't much," protested Bob. "We just happened to be close at hand when the auto went crazy. Anybody else would have done the same." "Of course they would," broke in Buck Looker, who with his cronies was standing close by. "People are making an awful fuss about a little thing, it seems to me. How about the work we did in helping to put out the fire?" "Did you?" asked Jimmy Plummer. "That's news to me. Look at your hands and clothes. They haven't got a mark on them. I saw you standing around outside, and you didn't lift a finger." "You keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you," cried Buck angrily. "You're getting altogether too fresh." Jimmy was about to retort, but just then there came an interruption. CHAPTER III WONDERS OF WIRELESS "How are you, boys?" asked a pleasant voice, and the lads looked up to see Dr. Amory Dale, the pastor of the "Old First Church" of Clintonia, standing beside them. Most of them responded cordially, for they liked and respected him. There was no stiffness or professionalism about him to make them feel that they were being held at a distance. He was comparatively young, somewhere in the early thirties, and had the frame and bearing of an athlete. There were rumors that he had been a star pitcher on his college baseball nine and a quarterback on a football eleven whose exploits were still cherished in the memory of his institution. He was a lover of the out-of-doors and there was a breeziness and vitality that radiated from him and made him welcome wherever he went. He kept in touch with modern science, and it was said that he would have embraced a scientific career if he had not felt it his duty to enter the pulpit. "You boys seem to have had a strenuous time of it," he said, as he looked with an amused smile at the torn and soiled clothes of Bob and Joe as well as the scratches and blisters that marked them. "I hear that you covered yourself with glory. Tell me more about it." They went into all the details they knew, passing over as rapidly as possible their own part in the affair, and Dr. Dale listened attentively. "Good work," he commented. "The occasion came and you were equal to it, and that's all that can be asked of anybody. I think I'll step over to the Sterling House now and see if I can be of any help to the poor girl who has had such a trying experience. By the way, boys, I hope you won't forget about that wireless talk up at my house to-night. I'm looking for you all to come if possible, and I'll do my best to see that you have a good time." "We're sure of that," replied Bob, with a smile. "And we haven't been thinking of much else since you first asked us to come. In fact, we were talking about it just before the accident." "That's good," replied the doctor. "You coming too, Buckley?" he asked, turning to Buck, who with his cronies was standing grouchily a little apart from the others. Buck stammered something which could be hardly understood, but which was interpreted by the doctor as a negative. The minister did not press the matter, but with a pleasant wave of the hand that included them all he went across the street. "He's a brick, isn't he?" remarked Bob, as he looked after him. "You bet he is," agreed Joe emphatically. "All wool and a yard wide," was Herb's tribute, as the boys, having gathered up their books, which in the excitement had been thrown wherever they happened to fall, resumed their walk toward their homes, leaving Buck and his mates glowering after them. There was no lack of animated conversation around their supper tables that night. Bob's parents made no secret of the fact that they were proud of their son's part in the day's work. Joe, too, found himself made much of in the family circle, not only by his father and mother, but by his sister Rose, who hovered about him forestalling his wants and showing him a deference that would have been highly flattering if it had not been also somewhat embarrassing. Rose, a year or so younger than Joe, was all aflutter with the romantic possibilities of the affair. A young girl in distress! Joe to the rescue! What could be more interesting? "Was she pretty, Joe?" she asked. "Blest if I know," her brother answered briefly. "Pass me some more of that roast veal, Sis. It goes right to the spot." With a sigh, Rose complied. Joe was so practical! Herb and Jimmy came in for a modified share of applause because of the help they had rendered by their prompt and efficient handling of the fire grenades, which had held the flames under control until the fire department could get to the place and complete the job. The minister's house adjoined the big stone church, which was on West Main Street and divided the business from the residential part of the street. It was a roomy, capacious structure, and at about eight o'clock that night it became a place of pilgrimage for a large number of the boys of the town. Buck Looker and his cronies were conspicuous by their absence, but this was a relief rather than a privation. Bob and his friends were among the first comers. They were warmly greeted by Dr. Dale and ushered into the large living room of the parsonage. The portières had been drawn back between the front and back rooms so that nearly the whole ground floor was thrown into one big room. Extra chairs had been brought in so that there were accommodations for a large number. There were no grown people in the gathering, for the doctor had especially confined his invitation to the boys, who, he knew, would feel more at ease in the absence of their elders. "There's Talley's wagon," remarked Jimmy, as he noted the presence at the curb of a vehicle bearing the name of the leading caterer of the town. "I'll bet we're going to have some eats." "And you've just come from the supper table!" exclaimed Bob. "He's like a trolley car," chaffed Joe. "You can always crowd more into it." "Don't you know the doctor's going to give you a feast of reason?" asked Herb with mock gravity. "Reason's all right," admitted Jimmy, "but there isn't much nourishment in it." "How about a flow of soul?" asked Bob. "Nothing against it," Jimmy answered, "but a flow of lemonade has its good points too." From the time the boys entered the room their eyes were fixed on a box-like contrivance that was placed on a table close up against the wall of the further room. It had a number of polished knobs and dials and several groups of wires that seemed to lead in or out of the instrument. Connected with it was a horn such as was common enough in the early days of the phonograph. There were also several pairs of what looked like telephone ear pieces lying on the table. They eyed it with intense curiosity, not unmixed with awe. They had already heard and read enough of the wireless telephone to realize that it was one of the greatest marvels of modern times. It seemed almost like something magical, something which, like the lamp of Aladdin, could summon genii who would be obedient to the call. The rooms were comfortably filled when Dr. Dale, with a genial smile, rose and took up his stand near the table. "Now, boys," he said, "I've asked you to come here to-night so that we can talk together and get a little better idea of some of the wonders of the world we are living in. One of those wonders and perhaps the most wonderful of all is the wireless telephone," and here he laid his hand on the box beside him. "Most of you have heard of it and want to learn more about it. I'm going to try to explain it to you just as simply as I possibly can. And I'm not going to do all the talking either, for I want you to feel free to ask any questions you like. And before I do any talking worth mentioning, I'm going to give you a little idea of what the wireless telephone can do." The boys watched him breathlessly as he handled two of the knobs at the side of the box. A moment later they heard the clear, vibrant notes of a violin playing a beautiful selection from one of the operas. The music rose and swelled in wonderful sweetness until it filled the room, with the delicious melody and held all the hearers entranced under its spell. It was evident that only the hand of a master could draw such exquisite music from the instrument. The doctor waited until the last notes had died away, and smiled with gratification as he saw the rapt look on the faces of his visitors. "Sounds as if it were in the next room, doesn't it?" he asked. "But that music came from Newark, New Jersey." "Gee," whispered Jimmy to Bob, alongside whom he was sitting, "that's nearly a hundred miles from here." "But there's no need of confining ourselves to any place as near as that," continued the doctor. "What do you say to listening in on Pittsburg? That's only a trifle of four hundred miles or so from here." "He calls four hundred miles a trifle!" breathed Jimmy. "Pinch me, somebody. I must be dreaming." Joe on his other side pinched him so sharply that Jimmy almost jumped from his chair. "Lay off there," he murmured indignantly. "S-sh," cautioned Bob, for by this time the doctor had made another adjustment. Then into the room burst the stirring strains of the "Stars and Stripes Forever" played by a band that had a national reputation. The rhythm and dash and fire of the performance were such that the boys had all they could do to keep their seats, and, as it was, their feet half unconsciously beat time to the music. "Hit you hard, did it?" smiled Dr. Dale, who, to tell the truth, had been keeping time himself. "Well, I don't wonder. I'd hate to see the time when music like that wouldn't shake you up. But now we'll go a few hundred miles farther and see what Detroit has to give us." Jimmy was past speech by this time and could only look at his comrades in helpless wonder. Then the twang of a banjo sounded through the rooms and to the thrumming of the strings came a voice in rich negro dialect "It rained all night the day I left, The next day it was dry, The sun so hot I froze to death Susanna, don't you cry." CHAPTER IV MYSTERIOUS FORCES The boys broke out in roars of laughter in which the doctor joined heartily. "You see how it is," he said, as the song came to an end. "There's hardly anything you can think of that you can't hear over the wireless telephone. It takes you anywhere you want to go in a fraction of a second. In the last few minutes, we've covered quite a section of the United States, and with a still stronger instrument we could go right out to the Pacific coast and hear the barking of the sea lions at the Golden Gate." "Wonder if we could hear the barking of the hot dogs at Coney Island," whispered the irrepressible Herb, who would have his joke. Bob nudged him sharply and Herb subsided. "And you can pick out any kind of entertainment you want," the doctor went on. "The great stations from which this music was sent out have programs which are published every day, together with the exact time that the selections will be given. At a given minute you can make your adjustment and listen to a violin solo, a band concert, a political speech, a sermon, or anything else that you want. If it doesn't please you, you can shut it off at once, which is much easier and pleasanter than getting up and going out from an audience. "We'll have some more selections later on in the evening," he continued, "but now I want to explain to you how this thing is done. I can't hope to do much more than touch the surface of the subject to-night, for I don't want to tire you out, and there'll be plenty of other nights and days when I hope you boys will call upon me for any information that you want and I can give. "Of course the whole thing is based on electricity, the most wonderful thing that perhaps there is in the whole physical world. Nobody knows what electricity is--Mr. Edison himself doesn't know. We only know that it is a wonderful fluid and that the ether is full of it. But though we don't know what it is, scientific men have learned how to develop and use its energy, and among other things they have harnessed it in the service of the wireless telephone. "Take for instance a quiet lake. It may seem absolutely still, but if you throw a stone in it you start a number of ripples that keep spreading further and further out until they break on the shore. So if you hit a drum with a stick, sound waves are stirred up that keep spreading out very much like the ripples on the lake. "Now electricity is something like that. It doesn't begin to act until you do something to it. The impulse to ripple is in the quiet lake all the time, but it doesn't ripple until you throw the stone in it. The sound quality is in the drum, but you don't hear it until you hit the drum with a stick. So you've got to put into the ether something that disturbs the electricity in it, something that stirs it up, and then this disturbance makes waves that travel on, just as the waves on the lake follow one another and just as the sound waves from the drum keep pushing each other along. "A man named Hertz discovered a way of stirring up this energy, snapping it, you might say, as a man snaps a whip. It was found that these waves could be made long enough and strong enough to go all the way across the Atlantic Ocean, in fact to go around the world. "Around the world!" murmured Jimmy, and again he was tempted to ask somebody to pinch him, but remembered his previous experience and stopped just in time. "Now," continued the doctor, "you may ask what this has to do with the voice, for it is with the voice that one talks over the 'phone. The whole principle of the wireless telephone is based on the fact that sound can be transformed into electricity and then can be transformed back into sound again. I know," he said, with a smile, "that that sounds very much like saying that you can make eggs into an omelet and then get the omelet back into separate eggs again"--here there was an audible snicker from the boys--"but that is very much like what is done by the wireless, although it doesn't exactly fit the case. "Now see what a wonderful increase in power you get the moment the sound waves are changed into electric waves. Sound goes at the rate of one thousand and ninety feet a second. Electrical energy travels at the rate of one hundred and eighty-six thousand miles a second. In other words it could go around the world more than seven times in a single second. "When you speak into a telephone, unless you are greatly excited, you don't use more than a fiftieth part of the power of your voice. But by the time that sound has been caught up and churned, as it were, into electrical energy it is more than a hundred thousand times as loud and strong. "Suppose now, just as an illustration, that you were going to telephone to Europe. You'd pick up the 'phone and give your message. That sound would go in the form of a tiny electrical impulse into one of the great sending stations on the Atlantic Coast, we'll say, and there it would be caught up by a powerful lot of electrical machines, amplifiers, alternators, and others, that would keep making it stronger and stronger until finally it was flung out into space from the ends of the great wires or antennae. Out and out it would go until it struck a lot of wires on the other side of the ocean. Then it would go through another process that would gradually change the electrical impulse back into sound again, and the man at the other end of the telephone would hear your voice, just as one does now when you 'phone to any one in this town." He paused for a moment, and there was a long drawn breath on the part of his auditors that testified to the rapt attention with which they had followed him into this fairyland of science. "So much for the theory and principle of the wireless," resumed the doctor. "Of course I've only scratched the surface, and if I talked to you all night there'd be still lots left to say. But we only need to know a little about it to put it to practical use. And it is the practical use of the wireless telephone that I'm especially interested in for the sake of you boys. I'm satisfied that there's hardly anything that could give you more pleasure or more benefit than for each of you to have one of these contrivances in your own home. It's a wonderful educator, it helps to develop your interest in science, and what will perhaps appeal to you most of all, you can have more fun with it than anything else I know of." Here Bob put in a question that was in the minds of many of the others. "Does it cost very much, Doctor?" he asked. "Not very much," the doctor replied. "Of course, some of the more powerful ones with vacuum tubes and other high class improvements run into the hundreds of dollars. But some very good receiving sets--and that's all you could use at the start, for it takes considerable time and you have to get a license before you are permitted to transmit--cans be bought for from twenty-five to seventy-five dollars." There was a little gasp at this, some of which was due to a feeling of disappointment. It seemed beyond the range of what they could save up from their pocket money, and while the parents of some of them were well to do, others came from simple and frugal homes where every dollar had to be carefully counted. The doctor was quick to note the expression on many faces, and took pains at once to remove any feeling of discouragement. "But don't let that bother you at all," he said, "for with a little thought and planning any one of you will be able to build a telephone receiving set for himself at hardly any cost at all. In fact, I'd much rather have you build one than buy one, for in that way you'll get an understanding of the whole thing that otherwise you might not get at all. You'd be surprised perhaps if I told you that this set here was built by me and I wouldn't exchange the experience I've had in putting it together for a good deal of money." "But you knew how to do it," put in Joe, "while we don't know the first thing about it. We wouldn't know how to start, even, let alone finish one." "I was coming to that," returned Dr. Dale, smiling. "As some of you know, I've fitted up a workshop in the barn behind this house where I do a good deal of tinkering in my spare hours. Now I'm going to ask you boys to come out there next Saturday and see me build a wireless receiving set from A to Z. You'll be surprised to see how much can be done with a few things that cost very little money and with a lot of things that don't cost any money at all. How about it, boys?" It was almost with a whoop that the invitation was accepted by his eager hearers, and the minister smiled with gratification at their enthusiasm. "Now that's all the talking I'm going to do tonight," he said. "And as talking's rather dry work, I'm going to have a little refreshment. Will you boys join me?" Would they join him? They would and they did, and the havoc they wrought on the sandwiches and cake and ice-cream that were brought in and passed around was something to be remembered. Jimmy in particular ate until his eyes bulged and fully sustained his previous reputation. And while they ate, the doctor turned on one lively selection after another, finishing with a selection from a jazz band that sent them into a frenzy of laughter. They were still tingling with it as they finally said good-night to the doctor and started on their way home. "Oh, you wireless telephone!" exclaimed Herb. "Isn't it a wonder?" ejaculated Joe. "Wonder!" repeated Bob. "It's a miracle!" CHAPTER V CROOKED WORK "We've got to get busy right away and rig up wireless telephones of our own," continued Bob. "Of course they won't be anything like the doctor's, but they ought to be good enough for us to get a lot of fun out of them." "You bet we will," agreed Joe. "Gee, I can't wait to get at it! If it wasn't so late I believe I'd start in figuring on it to-night." "Count me in on it too," chimed in Jimmy. "In a week or so we'll be sending messages everywhere. I'll be talking maybe to that cousin of mine in Michigan." "Come out of your trance, Jimmy," laughed Bob, clapping him on the shoulder. "Things don't move so fast as that. It'll be a good long time before you'll be sending any messages. You'll have to learn all about receiving them first; and believe me there's a good deal to learn about that. Then before you can send any messages you have to pass an examination and get a license. But for quite a time we'll have our hands full and our ears full with attending to the receiving end of the game. One step at a time is the rule in radio, as well as in anything else that's worth while." "I didn't know that," replied Jimmy, somewhat dashed by the information. "I had an idea that we could send just as soon as we got our sets made." "How about you, Herb?" asked Bob. "You're in it with the rest of us too, aren't you?" "With both feet," replied Herb. "I think that the wireless is the greatest thing that ever happened. But I don't know about making one for myself. I'm all thumbs when it comes to doing any mechanical work. You fellows are handy with tools, but I have all I can do to keep out of my own way. I guess I'll ask my dad to buy me a set and let it go at that." "That's what you think now," replied Joe, "but I'll bet when you see the rest of us getting busy, you'll pitch in too and make your own machine. Besides, from what the doctor says, it doesn't take a genius to put the thing together." They separated for the night with their heads still full of the wonders they had heard and seen, and the enthusiasm, was still with them when they woke the next morning. At the breakfast tables the conversation was divided between their experience of the night before and the newspaper account of the auto accident. A good deal of space was devoted to the latter, and it was gratifying to learn that although the damage to the store had been considerable the loss was covered by insurance and that the young lady whose automobile had crashed into the store had not been seriously injured and was expected to be around again in a few days. The coolness and courage with which Bob and Joe had acted and the part played by Herb and Jimmy in checking the spread of the flames were not overlooked. The comment that went with it was warm and appreciative, so much so in fact that, while the boys were not wholly displeased with it, they felt, as Joe expressed it, that the reporter was "spreading it on too thick" and feared that they would have to undergo no end of "joshing" from their mates. Their lessons in school that day did not receive all the attention that was due them, for their minds were taken up pretty fully by the events of the last twenty-four hours. But three o'clock came at last, and with it came the reminder that they were to call on their way home at the Sterling House, in order to see Miss Berwick, in accordance with her request of the day before. Bustling, motherly Mrs. Sterling greeted Bob and Joe with a smile, as they made known their errand. "So here are the young heroes that the paper has been making so much fuss about," she said mischievously, and Bob and Joe blushed to their ears. "Just wait a minute until I run up and see if Nellie is ready to receive you." "If it's too late, we can wait until another day," said Bob. "Oh, no," replied Mrs. Sterling. "She's been looking forward to your coming all day and has spoken about it a number of times. She is very anxious to thank you both, and I'm sure it will do her good to see you. The doctor was here this morning and said it would be all right. Of course, it won't do to stay too long, for the poor lamb is still rather nervous after her accident, and no wonder. Just wait here a minute." She disappeared, but a moment later was at the head of the stairs motioning to them to come up. They were ushered into a bright, sunny room, where they found Miss Berwick resting in an easy chair, propped up with pillows. She was a pretty girl with blue eyes and brown hair and regular features. Her age appeared to be about twenty. Her face was pale, as was natural under the circumstances, but it lighted up with a friendly and grateful smile as the party, entered. She extended her hand to the boys in turn, as Mrs. Sterling introduced them. "You must excuse my not rising," she said, "but I've had a rather nerve-racking experience, as no one knows better than yourselves. I want to thank you with all my heart for the way you came to my help when I was unable to help myself." "Oh, you make too much of it, Miss Berwick," Bob replied, and Joe assented with a nod of his head. "We just had the good luck to be close at hand, and if we hadn't done it, somebody else would." "That doesn't change the fact that you did it," replied the girl. "And you took a chance of losing your lives. The gasoline tank might have exploded and killed us all." "We're mighty glad that you came out of it as well as you did," said Bob warmly. "It's almost a miracle that you weren't killed," added Joe. "I suppose I deserve a severe scolding for having caused all this excitement and damage," was the response. "I don't know what on earth caused the accident. There seemed to be something the matter with the steering gear. Then I got excited and dizzy and tried to stop the machine. What I think happened was that I put my foot on the accelerator when I meant to put it on the brake. Then when I saw that the car was plunging toward the window, I either fainted or was made unconscious later from the shock. After the first awful crash I didn't know anything more until I woke in this room and found the doctor bending over me." "You're a stranger to this town, aren't you?" asked Bob, with an idea of getting her mind off the subject, which he could see was beginning to excite her. "Mrs. Sterling was telling us that you had only been here for a few days." "Yes," responded the girl. "I live in the town of Lisburn, about ten miles from here. I'm all alone in the world"--here a shade of sadness passed over her expressive face. "My father and mother are dead and I live with an aunt of mine. I never had any brothers or sisters. My father died some months ago and left me some property, and it was in connection with that matter that I came to Clintonia. This is the county seat, you know, and I wanted to consult the records in the office of the County Clerk. There seems to be a terrible tangle about the whole thing. Perhaps it was because I became so nervous over the matter that things went wrong yesterday." "I'm sorry, that you've had so much trouble," said Bob sympathetically, "and I hope that it will all come out right in a little while." "If it were just a little confusion or mistake, it probably would," replied Miss Berwick, with a touch of despondency in her manner. "But there's dishonesty involved. I know there is, but I don't see how I'm going to prove it." "Do you mean that somebody's trying to cheat you out of your property?" asked Bob, with quickened interest. "It must be the meanest kind of a rascal that would swindle an orphan," put in Joe indignantly. "I'm afraid there are only too many of that kind in the world," replied the girl, with a faint smile in which there was no trace of mirth. "You see I've never had the least bit of business training and I suppose I would be easy prey. But I'm afraid I'm boring you with my troubles," she added, catching herself up suddenly. "Not at all," replied Bob, as Joe also made a gesture of dissent. "In fact I hope you'll go right ahead and tell us all about it. Of course we don't know much about law, but our fathers have lived in this town for years and know almost everybody in the county, and they may be able to be of some service to you. Who is the rascal that you think is trying to cheat you out of your property?" "I don't suppose you know him," replied the girl, visibly cheered by the sympathy and interest of the boys. "His name is Cassey--Dan Cassey, and he lives in the town of Elwood, only a few miles from Lisburn. He held a mortgage of four thousand dollars on my father's house. When father was taken with his last illness he was very anxious that the mortgage should be paid so that he could leave the house to me free and clear. He had enough money in the bank to pay it and he had me draw it out and keep it in the house. He intended to settle the matter himself, but death came to him before he could attend to it. "I knew what his wishes were, and as soon as the funeral was over I went to see Cassey and told him that I wanted to pay off the mortgage. I saw his eyes glisten when I told him that I had the money at home to do it with. Of course, I realize now that I ought to have had a lawyer attend to the business for me, but, as I say, I have never had any experience in business and I had a general idea that most men were honest and that there'd be no trouble about it. Cassey made an appointment for me to come to his office the next day with the money. When I went there he was alone. He usually has a stenographer, but I suppose he had sent her away so that there would be no witnesses. I gave him the money in bills." "Then of course you got a receipt for it," interrupted Bob. "No, I didn't," replied the young girl, her face flushing. "Oh, don't think that I didn't have sense enough to ask for one," she said, as she saw the boys look at each other in surprise. "I did ask him for one, but he said that the mortgage itself would be a sufficient receipt and he would go over to the bank where he kept it in his safety deposit box and get it for me. Then he looked at his watch, and seemed surprised when he saw that it was past banking hours and too late to get it that day. He said he was awfully sorry, but that he would get it for me the next day and made an appointment for me to call and get it at his office. He seemed so sorry that he wasn't able to give it to me on the spot that I took it for granted that it would be all right and agreed to come the next day and get it. "I did go about noon the following day, but he wasn't there. His stenographer said that he had been suddenly called away to Chicago by a telegram. I asked her when he would be back, and she said that she didn't know. Then I asked her if he had left any word or any papers for me and she said he hadn't. I told her of my having been there the previous day and of having paid him the money, and she looked at me in surprise and said she didn't know a thing about it. Then--" Just at that moment Mrs. Sterling came in, and behind her was the tall form of Dr. Ellis. "Time's up, boys," the physician said, with a genial smile. "This young patient of mine can't have company very long at a time just at present. It will be all right though to drop in some other time, if Miss Berwick so desires." "Indeed I do," said the young girl, as the boys, in compliance with the doctor's suggestion, arose to go. "And we surely will be glad to come," responded Bob for himself and his friend. "We are keen to hear the rest of that story." They said good-bye and went downstairs and out into the street. "Why didn't the doctor wait just five minutes more?" grumbled Joe. "He couldn't have picked out a worse minute to butt in. I'm just crazy to know how the thing came out." "So am I," agreed Bob. "But I've heard enough already to feel sure that that fellow Cassey is a double-dyed crook. He simply saw that he had an inexperienced girl to deal with and he made the most of it." "I'd like to punch his nose for him," growled Joe savagely, making a swing in the air at an imaginary opponent. "Same here," agreed Bob, "but that wouldn't get back her four thousand. To think of a man turning a trick like that at the expense of a young girl who had just lost her father! It doesn't seem as though there could be such a mean fellow in the world!" "Well, however it may seem, there is evidently one who is mean enough." CHAPTER VI A PRACTICAL OBJECT LESSON The chums were joined outside the hotel by Herb and Jimmy, who had waited for them during their interview. To them they narrated what they had learned of Miss Berwick's story. Their friends shared their own indignation and were quite as keen as themselves to hear the end of the story. "What did you say the fellow's name was?" asked Herb, as the quartette walked along Main Street. "Cassey, she said it was--Dan Cassey," replied Bob. "Ever hear of any one by that name?" "It sounds rather familiar," replied Herb, knitting his brows as he tried to remember. "Wait!" he said suddenly. "I've almost got it--Cassey! Cassey! Does the man stutter, do you know?" "She didn't say anything about that," replied Joe. "Why do you ask that question?" "Because," answered Herb, "I remember a man of that name a few weeks ago calling at dad's store to get a bill of goods. The reason I remember was the way he stuttered when dad was making out the bill. He tried and tried to say something, and his eyes bulged out and his cheeks got all puffed and red while he was trying to get it out. Then he stopped and whistled, and that seemed to help him, for then he went right on talking, only stopping once in a while to whistle again and get a fresh start. I had to get out of the store to keep from bursting out laughing. I remember I felt rather sorry for the fellow at the time, but if he's the fellow who's trying to do Miss Berwick out of her money, nothing's too bad for him." "Suppose you ask your father what he knows about him," suggested Bob eagerly. "He may know something that may prove of some help to the girl, either in getting her money back or putting the fellow in jail." "I'll do it," agreed Herb. "By the way, fellows, I dropped into Dave Slocum's place yesterday afternoon and found out that he had a whole stock of material for making wireless telephone sets. Said a salesman from New York talked him into it, and he was wondering how he was going to get rid of them. Thought he'd been stocked up with more than he could sell, all through the salesman's slick tongue. I told him not to worry, that the boys would be standing in line before long and would clean him out of stock. He seemed to think I was kidding him, but he brightened up just the same." "Dave's got a pleasant surprise coming to him," grinned Joe. "Just our bunch alone will make quite a hole in his stock." "You bet," agreed Bob, as, having reached his gate, he said good-bye to his mates and went in. "Don't forget to ask your dad about that Cassey fellow," he called out after Herb. That Herb did not forget was proved when he overtook his friends the next morning on the way to school. "I asked dad about Cassey," were his first words, after greetings had been exchanged. "He said he thought very likely the man was the one you had in mind, for this stuttering fellow came from Elwood and his first name was Daniel. It's hardly likely there'd be two men of the same name in that little town." "Did your father know anything about what kind of fellow he was?" asked Joe. "Dad said that he had the reputation of being tricky and hard-fisted," answered Herb. "But as far as he knew he hadn't been caught in anything yet that could put him in jail. He went up in the air when I told him about Miss Berwick, and said he'd like to get hold of the fellow and break his neck. He thinks Miss Berwick ought to get a good lawyer and bring the rascal into court. But at the same time he thinks she may have a hard time proving her case, as she hasn't any receipt or any witnesses. She could simply say she'd paid him and he could say she hadn't. All he'd have to do would be to stand pat and put it up to her to prove her case. And how is she going to do it?" "Do you mean to say that he could get away with a thing as raw as that?" asked Joe, in a white heat. "He might," declared Bob. "Things just as rank have been pulled off again and again. But at any rate she ought to get after him right away. She's a dead loser as things stand, and if she can only get the rascal in court she may have a chance. Perhaps he hasn't covered his trail as well as he thinks he has, and when a good lawyer gets to questioning him the truth may come out. In any case it's the only way that will give her a ghost of a chance." The days passed by swiftly until Saturday came and with it the opportunity the boys had looked forward to of going to Dr. Dale's workshop and getting a few practical points on the making of a wireless telephone set. They found the doctor at a bench that he had rigged up in his barn. On the wall was arranged a large variety of tools and on the bench were strewn several coils of wire and a number of objects the name and use of which the boys did not know. The doctor, who was in his shirt sleeves, extended a hearty welcome to the boys, who ranged themselves about him, and whose numbers were constantly augmented by newcomers until the barn was well filled. "What I want to do to-day, boys," he said, "is to show you how easy and simple it is to put up a wireless telephone receiving set without having to spend very much money. "Now the first thing you have to get and put up is the aerial," he remarked, as he unwound a large coil of copper wire. "You want about a hundred or a hundred and twenty feet of that. You can extend it horizontally for about fifty feet, say, for instance, from the side or back of your house to the barn or the garage, and then have it go up as high as it can go. The upper end doesn't have to be in the outer air, for the sound will come along it if it's in the attic. Still it's better to have it outside if possible. The lower end of the wire has to be connected with the ground in some way, and you can fix that by attaching it to a water pipe or any other pipe that runs into the ground. A good way is to let it down the side of the house and put it through the cellar window and fasten it to a pipe. "After you have your aerial you want to get the rest of the apparatus together. The first thing to do is to get a baseboard which will serve as the bottom of the receiving box. Something like this," and he put his hand on a board about eighteen inches long, twelve inches wide, and about an inch thick. "This is the platform, as it were, on which the different parts of the apparatus are to rest. "Now since your ear alone can't detect the waves that are coming to and along your aerial, you have to have a sort of electrical ear that will do this for you. Here it is," and he picked up a piece of crystal and a wire of phosphor bronze. "When this wire comes in contact with this bit of crystal the mysterious waves become audible vibrations. "But this isn't enough. You've got to get in tune with the sending station in order to understand the sounds you hear. When your vibration frequency is the same as that from which the message is sent, you can hear as clearly as though the voice or instrument were in the next room. Now here's a piece of a curtain pole that's about a foot and a half long. You see that I've wound around its entire length, except for about a half inch at either end, a coil of wire. This is called the inductance coil. You will notice that the wire is covered with cotton except for this little strip of wire extending lengthwise where I've scraped the cotton off with sandpaper so as to accommodate the sliding contacts. These sliding contacts can be made from curtain rings with holes punched in them, through which are passed copper rivets. These rivets press against the bare path of the coil and can be moved to and fro until you find the exact point where your set is in tune with the sending station." CHAPTER VII IN THE DARK "Now," continued Dr. Dale, as he glanced round the circle of eager faces, alight with interest in the subject, "we're getting pretty close to the time when one picks up the receiver and begins to listen in. "But as the electric vibrations, if left alone, would have a good deal of trouble in passing through the telephone receiver, we must have a condenser to help them out. This is very easily made by gluing a piece of tinfoil about one and a half inches square to each side of a sheet of mica. Then you must have two strips of tinfoil, one extending from each side of the mica. If you haven't any mica, a sheet of ordinary writing paper will do, though the mica is better. "The telephone receiver you will have to buy, as a satisfactory one can't very well be made by an amateur. The receiver ought to have a high resistance to get the best results. "There," he said, as he laid the telephone receiver on the bench, "those are the essential things you have to have in order to make a set of your own. With these things only, it will of course be a simple set and have a limited range. There are a hundred improvements of one kind or another that you'll learn about as you get more expert, and these can be added from time to time. But the special thing I wanted to prove to you to-day was that it would take only a very small expenditure of money to get this material together. You see how many things I've used that any one of you can find about the house, such as tinfoil, curtain poles, curtain rings, wood for the box, and so on. The wire needed for your tuning coil and your aerial can be obtained for less than a dollar. The detector, including the crystal, can be got for another dollar. An excellent receiver can be bought for two dollars. A few minor things will be needed at perhaps five or ten cents each. Altogether the cost of the set can be brought within five dollars." This was good news to the boys, many of whom began at once a mental calculation as to the amount of their pocket money, while others began to figure on odd jobs that might bring them in the required amount, in the event that their parents would not supply the money. With a few deft movements the doctor attached the various parts of the apparatus to their proper places on the baseboard. There was not time that day to put up the aerial, but he gave them practical illustrations of how to use the detector by pressing the point of the wire firmly against the crystal, how to slide the rings back and forth until they found the point of greatest loudness and clearness, and all other points essential to using the set successfully. Not all the boys caught on to all that was involved, but to the majority it was made reasonably clear. To Bob and Joe, who had followed every point of the demonstration with the keenest attention, the operation of the receiving set was made as clear as crystal, and they had no doubt of their ability to construct a set for themselves. Herb's attention had wandered somewhat, because in the back of his mind there still lurked the idea of buying a set ready made. Jimmy had been somewhat distracted by looking about in various parts of the barn to see if he could detect the presence of any "eats," and his ideas were somewhat hazy in consequence. "Well, boys," at last said the doctor, with a smile, "I guess we'll call it a day. But remember that if at any time you are puzzled and want more information all you have to do is to come and ask me. I'll gladly lay aside my work any time to help you youngsters out." The boys thoroughly appreciated the doctor's cordiality and the demonstration that he had given them, and most of them took occasion to tell him so as they said good-bye to him and filed out of the extemporized workshop. "He certainly does make things clear," said Bob enthusiastically, as he and his friends made their way toward their homes. "Not only that, but he makes you want to do them," said Joe. "After seeing and hearing him this afternoon, I'd ten times rather make a set than buy one." Jimmy agreed with them, and even Herb seemed ready to reconsider the idea of getting one ready made, though he was not yet quite prepared to surrender. "All of you come over to my house to-night," said Bob, as they neared their homes. "We haven't got the materials yet, but we can go over again what the doctor told us to-day and make sure that we've got it all straight in our minds. What one forgets, the other may remember. Then when we do get the stuff we can put a little snap and speed into making the set." "That will be bully," replied Joe, and the others agreed with him. "For my part," Joe continued, "I count every day lost that we have to go without it. I sure am becoming a radio fan." It turned out that Herb was prevented from coming by unexpected company but the others were there. Their talk that night was animated and enthusiastic, so much so in fact that the time passed more quickly than they imagined, and they were surprised when the clock struck eleven. "By the way," said Jimmy, as he was preparing to leave with the rest, "I had a run in with Buck Looker when I was coming here to-night, and he said he was going to lay for me and do me up." "He did, did he?" asked Bob. "What was he sore about?" "Oh, he's had a grouch ever since the day of the fire," replied Jimmy. "You remember that when he spoke of the work he'd been doing to help put out the fire, I spoke up and said that he hadn't done a thing. He's had it in for me ever since. He bumped against me on purpose to-night just as I was coming in the gate, and when I called him down for it he said he was going to lay for me and change my face." "The big bully!" exclaimed Bob. "Just wait here a minute while I go into the next room." The adjoining room was dark and commanded a view of the street in front, while Bob himself could look out of the window without being seen. Some large shade trees were on the other side of the street, and as Bob's eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he could dimly descry three forms lurking in the shadows. One of them he felt sure was Buck, and he felt reasonably certain that the others were Carl Lutz and Terrence Mooney, Buck's boon companions. "I guess Buck and his gang are hanging around all right," he announced, as he returned to the other room and reported his discovery. "But he's going to get a little surprise party. I tell you what we'll do. You go out of the front door alone, Jimmy. Joe and I will stand there in the light from the hall lamp and say good-night. Then we'll close the door, and you stand on the stoop a minute, buttoning your coat, and then go slowly down the walk. That will give Joe and me a chance to slip around through the back in the darkness and get behind the bushes near the gate. Leave the rest to us." "And what we'll do will be a plenty," added Joe. Jimmy thought well of this plan, and agreed to do his part. They followed out this program to the letter. As Jimmy came down the walk, the lurking figures across the street came out from the shadow of the trees and over toward him. "I've got you now, Jimmy Plummer," snarled the voice of Buck Looker. "I told you I was going to take some of the freshness out of you, and now I'm going to tan your hide." "Does it take three of you to do it?" asked Jimmy. "None of your lip now," growled Buck, as he clenched his fist. "I'm going to have the fun of doing it myself." With one spring Bob vaulted over the low fence. "You've got another guess coming, Buck Looker," he said coolly. The bully started back in surprise and consternation, which was not diminished when Joe followed his friend's example and stood at his side. "What are you butting in for?" Buck snapped, as soon as he recovered his breath. "Because I choose to," answered Bob. "Because I won't stand by and see you hit a fellow half your size. If it's fighting you're looking for, I'll give you all the fighting you want right here and now. If your gang want to mix in, Joe will take care of Lutz and Jimmy can look after Mooney. But I'll take you on myself. How about it? Is it a go?" He advanced on Buck, and before his flashing eyes those of the bully wavered and fell. "I--I'll settle with you some other time," he stammered, retreating toward the middle of the street. "No time like the present," challenged Bob, but as Buck, muttering threats, still continued to retreat, while his cronies slunk away with him, Bob gave a little laugh and came back to his friends. "All right, Jimmy," he chuckled. "I guess your face won't be changed to-night. Buck seems to have changed his mind." CHAPTER VIII GETTING A START The idea of having their own radio outfit and being able to hear all the wonderful things going on in the air about them so fascinated the boys that they could talk or think of little else. Even Jimmy Plummer became so excited that his mother declared he was actually forgetting to eat, a statement that his father flatly refused to believe at first, until he escorted his rotund son to the nearest scale and discovered the astonishing fact that he had really lost two pounds. "You see how it is, Dad," said Jimmy, mournfully. "If you don't give me the money to get some wireless stuff I'll just pine away and die." "It wouldn't hurt you to pine away about twenty pounds, anyway," said his father, with a twinkle in his eye. "But I suppose if you've set your heart on it I might as well come across now as later and save myself from being pestered to death. How much do you suppose you'll need to get started?" "The other fellows are figuring that about five dollars apiece will buy most of the things we'll need--at first, anyway," he added, with a careful eye to the future. "All right, here it is," said Mr. Plummer. "And I suppose the next thing we know you'll be breaking your neck falling off the roof while you're trying to put up aerials, or whatever it is they call the contraptions." "Leave that to me," said Jimmy. "And I'll bet you'll get lots of fun out of this too, Dad, when we get it going." "Well, maybe so," said his father. "But I don't take much stock in the whole business. Some wonderful things happen these days, though, and you may be able to change my mind." "I'm sure I will," said Jimmy, with conviction. "And if you had heard what I did at Doctor Dale's house, I'll bet you'd want a radio outfit as much as I do." "Well, go ahead and see what you can do, Son. If you can really get the thing working, so much the better." The next day Jimmy lost no time in hunting up his friends and telling them of his good fortune. He found that the others had not been far behind him in procuring the necessary cash. That afternoon they all descended on the hardware store, whose proprietor had laid in a stock of the materials that would be likely to be needed in the construction of simple radio outfits. The hardware merchant was glad to see them, but somewhat surprised also. "Gosh!" he exclaimed, when he learned what the boys had come for. "When that salesman from New York talked me into stocking up with all that stuff, I never thought I'd get a sale for it in the next ten years. And now here's all you youngsters coming in here after it with money in your fists." "Yes, and you'd better lay in a whole lot more of it, Dave," said Bob Layton. "It won't be long before everybody in this town will be wanting a wireless radio outfit." "Well, I guess I've got enough in the store now to start you fellows on your way," said Dave Slocum, the proprietor. "Now, what all do you need?" There followed a time of much consultation and anxious questioning before all the enthusiastic young experimenters were satisfied that they were getting the most useful things their limited amount of capital would buy. Dave Slocum sold more feet of copper wire in that one afternoon than he had in the previous five years, not to mention insulators, resistance wire, detectors, head sets, and all the other paraphernalia necessary to the beginner. At last all the various purchases were tied into neat bundles, and the excited boys swarmed out into the street. "Let's go to my house and get started right away," proposed Bob. "It will be quite a job to get the aerial strung, and the sooner we do it the better it will suit me." The others were of the same mind, and they made the distance to the Layton home "on the jump" with Jimmy puffing valiantly in the rear in a desperate endeavor to keep up with his more active comrades. "Gee!" he exclaimed, staggering up the steps to the cool veranda, "you fellows must think I'm a candidate for Marathon runner at the next Olympic games, the way you hit it up coming here." "I don't know about the Marathon race," said Joe, "but I do think we could enter you in the long distance pie-eating contest, without having any doubts of your winning away out in front of the field." "Well, I don't want to boast, but I think I could do myself proud," admitted Jimmy. "I don't think I ever really got enough pie to satisfy me yet." "Never mind about pies now," said Herb. "The question before the house is to get an aerial strung from Bob's house to the barn. What's the best way to get up on the roof, Bob?" "There's a trap door in the roof not far from the chimney," replied Bob. "I was thinking that we could make a mast and lash it to the chimney. That would give us one secure anchorage for the aerial, and the other we can fasten to the roof of the barn easily enough." "What are we going to make the mast out of?" inquired Joe. "There's a nice piece of four by four lumber out in the barn," replied Bob. "I was thinking that we could leave it square at the bottom and plane it off round at the top, so as to look better. I don't see why that won't fill the bill all right." "Sounds all right," said Herb, and, with Bob leading, all four boys piled out to the big barn back of the house. Bob produced his scantling and hunted up a big plane. Then the boys set to with a will, and in a short time had the rough timber nicely smoothed off, with a slight taper toward the top. Then they screwed in a large hook, bought for the purpose, and after providing themselves with a generous length of rope, repaired to the roof of the house. As Bob had told them, there was a large scuttle leading from the attic onto the roof, and one after another they clambered out through this. The roof sloped gently at this point, and while they found it necessary to be careful, they had little difficulty in reaching the chimney. Before erecting the mast they fastened one end of the aerial over the hook in it. The aerial consisted of a single, number fourteen, hard drawn copper wire, insulated at each end by an earthenware insulator having two hooks embedded in it. One of these hooks went over the hook in the mast, while the other had the end of the wire attached to it. A similar insulator was provided at the other end of the wire, thus preventing its becoming grounded to the house or barn. Having hooked up one end of their aerial, the boys erected the mast against the chimney, and lashed it firmly in position with the rope they had brought up. "There!" exclaimed Bob, when everything was fixed to his liking, "that mast looks as though it might stay put a while. Now let's rig up one on the barn, and we'll have the first part of our job done, anyway." Clambering back to the scuttle, the boys dropped through to the attic floor and hurried downstairs. It was beginning to get dark, and as they wanted to get the aerial up while daylight lasted, everything went with a rush. Poor Jimmy thought more than once of his father's prophecy that he would lose weight in such strenuous activities, but he was as anxious to receive the first radio signals as any of the others, so he followed the headlong pace the others set without a murmur. Of course there was no convenient chimney on the barn to act as a support for the mast, but they finally rigged up a mast at one end of the barn, nailing it securely to the siding boards. Then they drew the copper wire through the hook in the insulator until there was just a little slack, cut off the wire, and wound it securely. Then they all gazed with pride at their handiwork, and had the comfortable feeling that comes of work well done. "Hooray!" shouted Jimmy. "That's what I call a good job, and it didn't take us such a long time, either." "Yes, but that's only the beginning," said Joe. "I only wish we had more time to-night. I feel as though I'd like to keep right on now and not stop until we're actually receiving." "You'd be pretty hungry if you tried to do it," remarked Jimmy. "To hear you talk, you'd think making a receiving set was about as hard as taking a run around the block." "It isn't much harder than for you to take a run around the block," laughed Herb. "You were puffing like a steam engine while we were coming up from the store this afternoon. If you don't cut down on the eats, Doughnuts, you'll have to get around in a wheel chair. You won't even be able to walk, let alone run." "There you go," complained Jimmy, in an aggrieved tone. "Just because I'm not as skinny as you fellows, you think that I eat more than you do. Nobody could eat more than you do, Herb, and live to tell the story." "I don't have to tell any stories along that line," retorted Herb, with a laugh. "My friends do that for me." "I'll bet they do," grumbled Jimmy. "I get some result out of what I eat, anyway, and that's more than you can say." "Oh, I can say it, all right, but probably nobody would believe me," admitted Herb. "Right you are, Herb, old boy!" "When you two fellows are all through arguing, maybe we can go up and hook on our leading-in wire to the aerial," said Joe, impatiently. "We ought to get that much done before dark, anyway." "I don't know about that, Joe," objected Bob. "It's almost dark now, and we could do it better and easier in the daylight. What do you say if you all come around after supper and we'll dope out a wiring diagram and maybe make a start on building the tuning coil." Joe reluctantly consented to this, and the four companions separated for the time being, after promising to return to Bob's house that evening. And true to their promise, the boys had all returned to the Layton home by eight o'clock that evening, full of enthusiasm for the task that lay before them. Mr. Layton was mildly interested in the radiophone project, but after a few questions he retired to the library with the evening paper, leaving the boys to their own devices. CHAPTER IX WORK AND FUN "Well, fellows," said Bob, "here we are, all set for a busy evening. What shall we do first?" "What I'd suggest," said Jimmy, "would be for everybody to have a little milk chocolate, just to start things off right," and he produced a huge bar of that toothsome confection and passed it around, with an earnest invitation to everybody to "help himself." "It isn't such a bad idea, at that," admitted Bob, breaking off a chunk that made Jimmy gasp. The others imitated his example, and by the time the bar of chocolate got back to Jimmy it had shrunken so greatly that the last named individual gazed at it mournfully. "Gee whillikins!" he exclaimed, "you fellows certainly do like chocolate, though, don't you?" "I do, anyway," said Herb, laughing at the rueful expression on his friend's face. "Have you got any more when that's gone, Doughnuts?" "No, I haven't. But if I had you can bet I'd hold on to it," said Jimmy. "How do you expect me to work if I don't have anything to keep my strength up?" "Who said we expected you to work?" demanded Joe. "I'm sure we wouldn't be so foolish, would we, fellows?" "Oh, I don't know," retorted Jimmy. "You're foolish enough for anything else, so why not that?" "Well, if you say so, I suppose that settles it," said Joe. "But, anyway, as long as Jimmy was so careless as not to bring more candy along, I suppose we'd better get to work." "Shall we get the tuning coil started?" suggested Bob. "It will take us quite some time to do that, but we might get the core wound to-night, anyway." As there was no objection to this, they all went down to the cellar, where Bob had rigged up a work bench and had a pretty complete stock of tools. Jimmy's father had made them a wooden form on which to wind the wire. This core was nothing but a plain cylinder of wood, about three inches in diameter and ten inches long. For Christmas, the year before, Mr. Layton had given Bob a small but accurately made bench lathe, operated by a foot pedal, and Bob mounted the roller between the lathe centers, holding one end in the chuck jaws. Then he produced a narrow roll of stout wrapping paper, such as is used for winding around automobile tires, and a bottle of shellac, together with a small, fine-haired brush. "First thing," he said, "we want to wind a few layers of shellacked paper on this core. Suppose I turn the core, you let the paper unwind onto it, Joe, and you can shellac the paper as it unrolls, Herb." "That leaves me with nothing to do but boss the job," said Jimmy, "and I don't see why I can't do that as well lying down as standing up, so here goes," and he stretched out luxuriously on an old sofa. "This must have been put here just for me, I guess," he continued, with a sigh of perfect contentment. "Get busy, you laborers, and flash a little speed." "We haven't got time to come and throw you off that sofa just now," said Bob. "But as soon as we get through with this job you'll vacate pretty quick. Are you fellows ready to start now?" "I've been ready for the last half hour," said Joe. "Start that jigger of yours going, and let's see what happens." Bob put a dab of shellac on one end of the paper to get it started, stuck the end on the wooden core, and then started winding the paper onto it at a slow speed. Joe moved the roll of paper back and forth to wind it smoothly and evenly, while Herb shellacked for all he was worth, giving himself almost as liberal a dose of the sticky gum as he gave the paper. It was not long before the core was neatly wrapped, and Bob stopped his lathe. "That looks fine," he said, eyeing the job critically. "Now, while that shellac is drying out a bit, let's see if we can't coax Doughnuts to get up off that couch." All three boys made a dive for their luckless companion, but he was up and off before they could reach him, with a nimbleness that would not have disgraced a jack rabbit. "No, you don't!" he exclaimed. "I beat you to it. I suppose it makes you feel jealous to see me resting once in a while, instead of slaving my head off as usual. If you Indians had your way I'd be worn to a shadow in no time." "It's easy to see we don't have our way much, then," laughed Herb. "You've got a long way to go before you get in the shadow class, Jim." "It can't be too far to suit me," responded that youth. "But what I want to know is, is that tuning coil wound yet? Seems to me you take a lot of time to do a simple thing like that." "You'd better sing small, or first thing you know you'll find yourself in the coal bin," threatened Joe. "How about throwing him in just for luck, fellows?" "You've got a funny idea of what luck is," said Jimmy. "I never did care much for coal bins. Thank you just the same." "You're welcome," retorted Joe. Then to Bob: "Do you think we can wind the wire on now, Bob?" "Why, I guess so," said Bob, testing the shellac with his finger. "It's getting pretty tacky now; so if we wind the wire on right away the shellac will help to hold it in place when it dries." "Well, start up the old coffee mill, then," said Herb. "If we can get the wire on as slick as we did the paper, it won't be half bad." But the wire was a more difficult thing to work, as they soon found. It required the greatest care to get the wire to lie smooth and close without any space between coils. More than once they had to unwind several coils and rewind them before they finally got the whole core wound in a satisfactory manner. But at last it was finished, all coils wound smooth and close, and the boys gazed at it with pardonable pride. "That doesn't look as bad as it might, does it?" said Bob. "I should say not!" exclaimed Joe. "The last time I was in New York I saw a coil like that in an electrical store window. I didn't know then what it was for, but as far as I can remember, it didn't look much better than this one." "We probably couldn't have made as good a job of it if Bob hadn't had that lathe," said Herb. "Well, I don't know," said Bob. "It would have taken us longer, but I think we could have done it about as well in the end. Now that we've got the core wound, we'll have to mount it with a couple of sliding contacts, but I guess we'd better not try to do anything more to-night. It's getting pretty late. And, besides, mother said she'd leave an apple pie and some milk in the ice box, and I'm beginning to feel as though that would taste pretty good." CHAPTER X A STEALTHY RASCAL "Did you really say pie, Bob?" asked Jimmy in a rapturous voice. "And apple pie at that? Or was it all only a beautiful dream?" "There's only one way to find out, and that's to go and see," said Bob. "Last man up gets the smallest piece," and he made a dash for the stairs, closely followed by the others. Poor Jimmy, in spite of a surprising burst of speed on his part, was the last one up, and arrived out of breath, but ready to argue against Bob's dictum. "Don't you know that if there's a small piece it's up to the host to take it?" he asked Bob, who by that time had secured the pie and was cutting it. "If you were really polite you wouldn't eat any of that pie at all. You'd give all your time to seeing that we had plenty." "Yes, but I'm not that polite," said Bob. "I think I deserve credit for not waiting till you had all gone home and then eating the whole thing myself. That's probably what you'd do, Doughnuts, if you were in my place." "I wouldn't either," disclaimed Jimmy indignantly. "Of course he wouldn't eat it after we'd gone," grinned Herb. "And if you coax me real hard, I'll tell you why." "All right, I'll bite," said Joe. "Why wouldn't Doughnuts eat the pie after we'd gone home?" "Because he would have eaten it all before we even got here," replied Herb, with a shout of laughter. "Ask me a harder one next time." "I suppose you think that's real smart, don't you?" remarked Jimmy sarcastically. "But I don't care what you say, as long as there is pie like this in the world," and he bit off a huge mouthful with an expression of perfect ecstasy on his round countenance. "It is pretty easy to take," admitted Herb, as he proceeded to dispose of his share in a workmanlike manner. "This is regular angel's food, Bob." "Yes, it was made especially for me," said Bob, trying to look like an angel, but falling considerably short of the mark. It is hard for any one to look very angelic with a big piece of apple pie in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. "Suppose you cut out the angel business and hand me over another piece of that pie," suggested Jimmy. "If you're an angel, Bob, I hope to die a horrible death from slow starvation, and I can't say any more than that, can I?" "You'd better speak nicely to me, or you won't get another piece," threatened Bob, holding a wedge of pie temptingly in Jimmy's direction. "Am I an angel, Doughnuts, or not? Yes--pie. No--no pie." "Of course you are, Bob, and you know I always loved you." Bob passed him the pie, and Jimmy clutched it securely. "Thanks, you big hobo," he grinned. "There's gratitude for you," said Bob, appealing to the others. "He knows the pie is all gone now, so he thinks he can insult me and get away with it." "So I can," said Jimmy complacently. "You know you could never get along without my advice and help, Bob. You need somebody around you with brains, to make up for Joe and Herb." "That pie must have gone to your head," said Joe. "We'd better try to get him home where they can take care of him, Herb. He'll probably be telling us he's Napoleon, if we let him get a little crazier." "I'm going right away, anyway," said Jimmy, hunting back of the door for his cap. "I worked so hard making that tuning coil that I'm all in. I'll need a good night's sleep to set me on my feet again. So long, fellows," and he went away whistling. The others followed soon after, after agreeing to meet the next afternoon to mount the tuning coil. As Bob and Joe were on their way home from school the following day they caught sight of Miss Berwick sitting on the porch of the hotel, enjoying the bright spring sunshine. She nodded to them brightly and invited them to come up on the porch. They were quick to accept the invitation, and as they dropped into seats beside her they were glad to note that there was more color in her cheeks than when they had seen her last. "No need of asking whether you are feeling better," remarked Bob. "One can tell that by just looking at you." "Oh yes," replied Miss Berwick with a smile. "I'll soon be as well as ever, thanks to the good doctoring and nursing I've had." "It was too bad that the doctor came in just when he did the other day," said Joe. "We were keen to hear the rest of your story about that fellow Cassey. Has anything turned up to tell you where he is and what he is doing?" "Not a thing," replied the girl, with a tinge of sadness in her tone. "From the moment I paid him that money, I've never laid eyes on him. For some days after he was said to have left for Chicago, I haunted his office, hoping that with every mail there might be a letter either to me or his stenographer explaining the matter and setting it right. I tried to get his Chicago address, but his stenographer said she didn't know it, and I think it likely enough she was telling the truth. I've looked through the records here to see if he had transferred the mortgage, but it still stands in his name, as far as the records go. I have clung to the hope that possibly he had written to me and that the letter had gone astray. But I guess I'm just fooling myself. I'm going to put the whole thing in the hands of a lawyer and have Cassey brought to justice if I can. But I'm afraid it'll be a case of locking the stable door after the horse is stolen." "Don't get downhearted," urged Bob. "I have an idea that you'll get your money or the mortgage. Slicker rascals than he have been caught, no matter how carefully they covered their tracks. There's usually one little thing they've forgotten that leads to their getting nabbed at last." "Let's hope so," replied Miss Berwick, but none too confidently. "But now tell me something about yourselves. It isn't fair that my troubles should take up all the conversation." The boys told her of their radio experiments, and she listened with the keenest interest. "That reminds me," she said. "I noticed a radio telephone set in this man Cassey's office. His stenographer told me that that was his one recreation." "You find them everywhere," replied Bob. "They'll soon be a feature in almost every home and business office. But we'll have to go now," he said, as he rose to his feet, while Joe followed his example. "Good afternoon. And don't forget what I said. I feel you'll get your money or you'll get your mortgage." CHAPTER XI CLEVER THINKING The radio boys were at Bob's house on the dot, all but Jimmy, who to his great disgust had to do some work for his father, and so could not come. "I suppose we'll have to try to get along someway without his valuable assistance," said Herb. "When he told me he couldn't get here this afternoon he certainly felt sore about it." "I guess I know how he feels, all right," said Joe. "It would pretty near break his heart not to be able to work on this radio stuff now. I'm crazy for the time to come when we can pick our first message or music out of the air." "I guess you're no more anxious for that to happen than we are," said Bob. "Let's go downstairs and see what we can do." They all made their way to Bob's workroom in the basement, where they found the core well dried and the wire as firmly set on it as the most particular workman could desire. "Good enough!" exclaimed Bob, examining the core with loving pride. "We'll get this set up in a jiffy, and then we can make the condenser." Working together, the boys soon had two square blocks sawn out as end pieces, and they centered the core on these and screwed it fast. Then they drilled holes in the two upper corners of the square end pieces to fit two brass rods they had bought at the hardware store. These rods carried each a small sliding spring, or contact, which rubbed along the length of the tuning coil, one on each side. After they had bolted the brass rods securely in place, the coil was ready for use, except that the boys had first to scrape off the insulating enamel in the path of the sliding contacts, so that they could reach the copper coils. A sharp pen knife soon effected this, and the boys found themselves possessed of a neat, substantial tuning coil, at a cost of only a fraction of what it would have been if they had had to buy a coil already made. And in addition they had the satisfaction that comes of a good job well done, which more than compensated them for the labor involved. "That begins to look like business," exulted Joe. "We'll be putting Mr. Edison out of business pretty soon." "Yes, it's lucky he can't see that tuning coil," laughed Bob, "he'd be looking up the want ads in the papers, sure." "Oh, that coil won't be a patch on the condenser we're going to make," declared Herb. "I know we've got to have a condenser, but I'm blessed if I really understand what it is for," said Joe. "I know the doctor told us about it, but I guess I didn't get a very clear idea of what it was all about." "I'm not very clear on it either," admitted Bob. "But from what he said and what I've read, it seems to be a sort of equalizer, for the electric current, storing it up when it's strong and giving it out when it's weak. It prevents the current getting too strong at times and burning something out." "That's the way I understood it, too," said Herb. "And Dr. Dale said that in the larger sets they have what they call a variable condenser, so that they can get more or less damping action according to the strength of the incoming current waves." "I guess I get the idea," said Joe. "But it's a pretty complicated thing when you first tackle it, isn't it?" "Yes, but it's just like almost anything else, probably--it's easy when you know how," said Bob. "It tells here how to make the condenser," said Herb, who had been looking over an instruction book that the boys had bought. "But it says the best thing to use for the plates is tinfoil. Now, where are we going to get the tinfoil from, I'd like to know!" "If you want to know real badly, I'll tell you," said Bob. "Right out of that box over in the corner. Just wait a minute and I'll show you." Bob stepped swiftly over to the box in question and produced a big ball of tinfoil, composed of separate sheets tightly packed together. "When I was a kid I used to collect this stuff and sell it to the junkman," he said. "This ball never got big enough for that, and I forgot all about it until a few days ago when I happened to come across it and thought that it would be just the thing for us to use now. We can easily peel off all the sheets we need, I guess. Some of them are damaged, but there are enough whole ones to do our trick." "Gee, that's fine!" said Joe. "Pry off some, Bob, and let's see if it will serve." With his knife Bob pried away at likely looking places, and soon had several large sheets off. These, when smoothed out, looked good enough for any purpose. "How many does the book say we'll need, Herb?" asked Bob. "It says eight or ten, each one about four inches square," answered Herb. "And it says they have to be separated by paraffined paper. How are we going to get hold of some of that?" "Paraffine wax is what they use to seal fruit jars," said Joe. "We ought to be able to get some of that easy enough." "Mother had a big cake of it last summer!" cried Bob. "Maybe she has some of it left. Wait here and I'll ask her," and he dashed up the stairs three steps at a time. In a few minutes he returned, having obtained not only the wax but a small sauce pan in which to melt it. "I thought I'd bring this along, so as to have it," he said; "but it's so near supper time that I don't think we'll have a chance to do much more--right now, anyway. What do you say if we knock off now and do some more work this evening after supper?" "Gee, I never thought it was that late," said Herb. "If Jimmy had been here, I suppose he would have been talking about supper for the last hour or so, and we'd have known what time it was." "Well, I'll be here for one," said Joe, "and I'll stop at Jimmy's house on the way home and tell him to get around, too." "I'll come too," said Herb. "And, Joe, while you're about it, tell Jimmy to be sure and bring another chunk of chocolate, only bigger than the one he had last night." "I'll be sure to mention that," grinned Joe. "But I don't think he'll do it, just the same." Bob went upstairs with them, and Herb and Joe went away together, after promising to come back as soon after supper as possible. After they had gone, Bob could not resist the temptation to go down and gaze with an approving eye on the shiny new tuner they had made, and dream of the many wonderful sounds that would soon come drifting in through that gleaming bit of mechanism. CHAPTER XII FORGING AHEAD The Laytons had hardly finished supper that evening before Jimmy's cheery whistle was heard outside, and Bob jumped up to let him in. "Come in, old timer," Bob called to him. "Where's the rest of the bunch?" "Oh, I guess they'll be along pretty soon," said Jimmy. "I guess I'm a bit early, but I was so anxious to get around that I couldn't wait to come at a respectable time. I suppose I should be boning down for to-morrow's lessons, but I'd never be able to get my mind on them until we get our outfit going." "I feel the same way," said Bob. "But at the rate we're going now it won't be very long." "Joe told me you finished the tuning coil this afternoon," said Jimmy. "I don't understand how you ever did it without my being here to tell you how, though." "Oh, we managed to patch it up some way," laughed Bob. "Come on down and look at it, and see if it's good enough to suit you." "Lead me to it," said Jimmy, and the two boys went downstairs. "Say, that's a pippin," said Jimmy, as Bob switched on the light and he caught sight of the finished tuner. "I couldn't have done it better myself. You've certainly made a first class job of it." "We thought it wasn't so bad," admitted Bob modestly. "Especially when one stops to think that you weren't here to give us the benefit of your advice." "That's the most surprising thing about it," said Jimmy. "But now that I'm here to-night, why, we can go right ahead and get a lot done. Seems to me it must be about time for Joe and Herb to show up." As though in answer to this thought, they heard a tuneful duet, and a moment later came a vigorous ring on the doorbell. "You go up and let them in, will you, Doughnuts?" said Bob. "I want to melt this paraffine and get things started right away." "Sure I will!" And Jimmy hastened off, returning a few minutes later with the missing members of the quartette. "It's about time you got here," said Jimmy. "Bob and I were wondering if we'd have to do all the work by our lonesome, as usual." "Gee, you don't know what work means," returned Joe scornfully. "Last evening you pretty near wore a hole in that old couch resting on it, and this afternoon you were enjoying yourself, helping your father instead of coming here and doing a little honest work for a change." "Oh, yes, I enjoyed myself a lot!" exclaimed Jimmy. "I sawed enough one inch planks this afternoon to make either one of you loafers cry for help! And then you talk about my having enjoyed myself!" "Well, if you worked so hard, maybe your dad gave you enough money for it to buy a respectable piece of chocolate with instead of that measly little sample you brought around last night," said Herb. "You're right he did, and here it is," said Jimmy. And from under his coat he produced an immense slab of delicious looking chocolate that must have weighed all of a pound. The shout that went up from his three friends might well have startled the family upstairs. "Jimmy, we've got to hand it to you; you're a good sport," cried Bob, laughing. "I never really thought you'd ever bring any more, after the way we ate what you had last night." "I'm glad that you admit that you ate more than your share," said Jimmy, severely. "But I thought I'd bring enough around to-night, hoping there might be a little piece left over for me." "I think that since he's so generous we ought to let him have a real big piece," said Joe. "Yes," grinned Herb. "But remember that chocolate candy is about the worst thing a fat person can eat. It might be better for Doughnuts, after all, if we took this away from him right away. I'd rather get sick myself eating it than see him get any fatter." "Say, how do you get that way?" demanded Jimmy in an aggrieved tone. "I've never been able yet to get hold of enough candy to make me too fat, and if I should, I'm the one that ought to worry about it." "It looks to me as though there's enough there for all of us for a week," said Bob. "Let's break it up and put it in this box over here, and then anybody who wants any can help himself." "That's fair enough," said Jimmy. "But I'll bet anything it won't last this bunch any week. If you were all like me it might, but I suppose that's too much to ask." "I don't think that's asking very much, do you, fellows?" said Joe, with an exasperating grin. "Wow!" exclaimed Herb, laughing. "That has all the appearance of a dirty dig, Joe. If I were you I wouldn't let him have a scrap of that chocolate, Jimmy." "I suppose I shouldn't. I ought to let him chew on a piece of that paraffine that Bob's melting. He's so foolish sometimes that I don't think he'd ever know the difference." "Well, we can't all of us be wise," said Joe. "But I've got a hunch that I'd rather have the chocolate, so here goes," and he helped himself to a generous piece. "When are you going to have that wax cooked good and tender, Bob?" "Suppose you leave the wax to me, and you get busy cutting out some squares of tinfoil and paper," suggested Bob. "This wax will be done a long time before you're ready for it." "All right, I'll do it," said Joe. "I don't suppose there's anybody in the world can beat me at cutting out squares of paper. There may be some things I can't do, but I sure shine at that." "Yes, I guess you can do that all right," admitted Bob. "But I can't be real sure until you give us a demonstration." "Here goes, then," replied Joe. "How big do they want to be?" "Four inches square, the book says, and I suppose the man that wrote it knew what he was talking about," said Bob. "That will do to start on, anyway." Joe carefully measured a square of paper to the required dimensions, and then used it as a pattern in cutting out the others. He soon had a number of neat squares ready, which he handed to Bob, who immersed them in the melted wax. While the paper was soaking this up, Joe cut out a corresponding number of tinfoil squares, leaving a projecting tongue on each one to serve as a terminal. "You're an expert at carpenter work, Doughnuts," said Bob. "If you feel as ambitious as usual you can cut a couple of squares out of that oak plank over in the corner. We'll need them for end pieces to this condenser." "Oh, that will be lots of fun," said Jimmy, who had been casting longing glances toward the old sofa. "I'd a good deal rather saw some more wood than take it easy. How big shall I make them?" "About five inches each way, I should say," answered Bob, reflectively. "That will give us room to drill holes in each corner to put the clamping bolts through. In that drawer under the table you'll find some drills. I think a three-sixteenth drill ought to be all right. There are four brass bolts in that bag on the table, and you can measure them and see what size drill you'll need. I bought them for three-sixteenth, anyway." "You go ahead and cut out the pieces, Jimmy," said Herb. "I'll do the real hard work, like measuring the bolts and picking out the drill. Then when you get the end pieces cut out, the drill will be all ready for you to put the holes through." Jimmy gave him a withering glance, but rolled up his sleeves and set to work. Once started he made the sawdust fly, and before very long had two stout looking pieces of solid oak cut out. "Where's your drill, Herb?" he inquired then. "Don't tell me you haven't got that ready yet!" "All ready and waiting," was the reply, and Herb handed over the required tool. "Go to it, and see that you make a first class job of it." Clamping both pieces of wood in the vise, Jimmy ran the sharp hand drill through in a workmanlike manner, and then viewed his work with pardonable pride. "There you are," he said. "If this condenser doesn't condense, it won't be because it hasn't got two good end pieces, anyway." "It's funny that you should have to condense electricity," said Herb, with a twinkle in his eye. "It's just the same as milk, isn't it?" "Yes, it isn't," said Bob. "Another wise remark like that, and you'll find yourself out in the wide, wide world, young fellow." "I should say so," said Joe. "That was a fierce one, Herb." "Well, I'll promise to be good," returned Herb. "But I still think that was a pretty fine joke, only you fellows haven't got enough sense of humor to appreciate it." "We've got sense enough not to appreciate it, anyway," said Jimmy. "It's weakened me so that I'll have to have another piece of chocolate to brace me up," and he suited the action to the word. "When you've all had all the candy you want, we can go ahead and make this condenser," said Bob. "Don't let me hurry you, though." "No chance of your hurrying me," replied Jimmy. "I'm so all in now I can hardly move. But Herb and Joe will do anything you want them to. They've been taking it easy, right along, so they shouldn't mind working a little now." "Jimmy has done more work to-night than I've seen him do altogether in the last six months," said Joe. "So we'd better let him rest himself awhile now. He's apt to get sick if we don't." "Well, I guess this paper has soaked up all the wax it's going to, so we can go ahead with the rest of it," said Bob, as he started fishing squares of impregnated paper out of the saucepan. He laid one sheet on one of the blocks that Jimmy had cut out, and on top of that laid a sheet of tinfoil, then another sheet of paper and one of tinfoil, alternating in this way until he had a number of sheets lined up. The little tabs or projections on each sheet of tinfoil he arranged in opposite directions, so that half of them could be attached to a wire on one side of the condenser and half to a wire on the other side. Then he placed the other wooden block on top of the whole thing, passed the four screws through, one at each corner, and tightened them up evenly. This squeezed all superfluous paraffine from between the plates, and held the whole assembly very securely and neatly. "That looks fine so far," said Jimmy, critically. "But how do you mean to connect up all those tabs on the plates?" "I guess about the only way will be to solder them," replied Bob. "I used to have a soldering iron around here somewhere." He rummaged in the big drawer under the bench and soon produced the iron, which he then proceeded to heat over a gas flame. "While that iron's heating, I might as well follow Jimmy's example and rest," said Bob, throwing himself down on the sofa. "I've been thinking we haven't heard much lately of Buck Looker or any of his gang. Has anybody heard what he's up to now?" "I saw him only this afternoon," said Joe. "He had Lutz and Mooney with him, of course, and they all looked at me as though they'd like nothing better than to heave a brick at me when I wasn't looking. Buck asked me how the wireless 'phone was coming along, and when I told him that we had our aerial up and expected to be receiving stuff within a few days, he seemed surprised." "What did he say?" asked Herb. "Oh, he just predicted that we'd never get it working, and as I didn't feel like arguing with him, I started on. I hadn't gone far though when that little sneak, Terry, yelled after me: 'Hey, Atwood, don't forget that all that goes up must come down.' The others snickered, and I had half a mind to go back and make him tell me what he meant. But then I thought he wasn't worth bothering with, and I went on home. What do you suppose he meant, anyway?" Bob thought a moment before replying. "You say you told him that we had our aerial up?" he asked, at length. "Yes, I did tell him that." "Well, it would be just like them to try to pull down our wires, if they thought they could get away with it. Maybe that's what Terry meant about 'all that goes up must come down.' What do you think?" "Say!" exclaimed Joe, leaping to his feet, "I'll bet that was just what he meant, the little sneak. But he'd never have nerve enough to try anything like that himself." "Maybe not. But I think Buck Looker might," said Bob. "If he does, I only hope I'll have the luck to catch him at it." "Those fellows need a good licking, and it's up to us to give it to them," said Herb indignantly. "I'm game to do my share any time." "Oh, well, it may have been just some nonsense of Terry's. But we'd better be on our guard, anyway," said Bob, rising to get the soldering iron. "Whew! but this is hot now, all right. I'll let it cool a bit, and get the condenser ready for soldering." CHAPTER XIII THRASHING A BULLY Stripping a length of copper wire, Bob nipped off two short lengths with his pliers and fastened them to opposite sides of the condenser with small staples. Then he brought all the tinfoil plate terminals on each side in contact with the wire on that side, and connected the terminals with their respective wires with a small drop of solder on each. Then he produced a roll of ordinary bicycle tire tape and wound the whole thing neatly in this, leaving only the ends of the two copper wires projecting a distance of perhaps a quarter of an inch. "There!" he exclaimed, "we can solder our other wires up to them when we come to connect up the set. It isn't very fancy, but it ought to do the work." "Gee, Bob, you must have been studying up on this," said Jimmy. "To look at your work, any one would think you'd been doing this all your life." "I did look it up after you fellows went home last night," admitted Bob. "This condenser isn't made just the way they say, but the principle is the same, and I guess that is the main thing." "We won't worry about how it's made if it only works," said Joe, "and I guess it will do that all right." "We'll hope so, anyway," said Bob. "But there's only one way to find out, and that's to hook our set up and see if we get signals through. And if we do--oh boy!" "I'll bet it will work like a charm," said Jimmy enthusiastically. "We haven't got to make much more now, have we?" "We've got to make a panel and mount all these inventions on it," said Herbert. "That won't take very long," said Bob. "Of course, we can't do it to-night, but to-morrow's Saturday, and if we get started early we may be able to fix things up so that we can hear something to-morrow night. Saturday night is the time they usually send out the biggest number of musical selections, and if we have luck we may be able to listen in on them." "Wow!" exclaimed Herb. "Won't that be the greatest thing that ever happened? You can't start too early to suit me." "Nine o'clock's early enough," said Bob. "Everybody come around here then and we'll make things hum. There's still plenty to do, but we ought to get it finished before that." The boys were so excited at the prospect of actually operating their set the following evening that they could hardly sit still two minutes at a time. They laughed and joked and speculated on what would be the first thing they would hear through the air, and finally Bob's guests started home in an hilarious mood. Bob himself cleaned up his bench a bit after the others had gone, and then went upstairs to his bedroom, which had a window in the rear of the house. He had just started to undress when he thought he heard a peculiar noise outside. At once the thought of what Joe had said about his encounter with Buck Looker and his companions leaped into his mind, and he crossed swiftly to the window and looked out. It had been cloudy all the evening, but now, the clouds were beginning to break away, allowing bursts of moonlight to shine through at intervals. When Bob first looked out of the window, the moon was obscured by a ragged patch of cloud and he could barely make out the dim outline of the barn. But as the cloud passed on and the moon began to shine through the thinning fringe of vapor, Bob saw an indistinct figure on the roof, and as the moon came out more strongly he could see that the figure was tinkering with the end of the aerial that was fastened to the barn. Bob had no difficulty in recognizing Buck Looker, and without more ado he made for the back stairs leading down to the kitchen. Hot rage was in his heart and a resolve to have it out with the bully once and for all. Noiselessly he unfastened the kitchen door and passed out into the night, approaching the barn with as little noise as an Indian. Buck Looker was entirely unconscious of his approach, and was still fussing with the aerial when Bob's voice reached him, pleasant enough, but with a steely note in it that almost made the bully lose his hold on the roof. "Hello, Buck!" said Bob. "What are you doing up there?" For a few moments the shock of hearing Bob's voice so unexpectedly unnerved Buck completely, and he could do nothing but peer down at Bob with an expression of guilt and dismay on his coarse face. "Why--why--" he gasped at last, making an effort to pull himself together. "Why, you see, Bob, I--I just thought I'd like to see how you fastened this thing up. Lutz and I were thinking of putting one up ourselves, and we wanted to find out how to do it," he went on, glibly. "Come on down off that roof and take your medicine," said Bob, ignoring this flimsy excuse. "You've had a licking coming to you for a long time, and now you're going to get it." "Maybe you'll be sorry when I do come down," blustered Buck. "You let me alone though, and I won't hurt you." "Shut up and come down," said Bob grimly. "You've got to come down sooner or later, and you can bet I'll be waiting here for you when you arrive." The bully hesitated for a time, but his position on the roof was precarious, and he saw that Bob was in earnest and meant to wait for him. He summoned up what little courage he could, therefore, and came slowly down a ladder that he had reared against the side of the barn furthest from the house. Bob waited until Looker was fairly on the ground before making a move. While descending the ladder Buck had made up his mind to run for it as soon as he reached the ground, for he had little liking for an encounter with Bob, although many times he had talked big about what he was going to do to him some day. But Bob had no intention of letting him escape so easily, and as Buck put his foot on the ground and turned with the intention of running, Bob was on him with the fury of a wildcat. Buck was prepared for this too, and when he saw that he was fairly cornered started to fight back. Looker was bigger and heavier than Bob, and for a time held his own, but Bob had the memory of more than one wrong to avenge, and a gallant spirit that took no heed of blows received so long as he could punish his enemy. For many minutes they fought back and forth, giving and taking in fierce fashion. Buck landed one or two heavy blows, but Bob only shook his head and bored in more fiercely than ever. He rained blows on the retreating bully, who was soon getting enough and more than enough. At length Bob saw an opening, and quick as a flash a fist shot up and caught Looker square under the jaw. The bully's head rocked back, his knees sagged under him, and he dropped limply to the ground. Panting, Bob stood over him, waiting for Looker to get to his feet again, but when after a few seconds the bully opened his eyes, there was no sign of fight left in them. "Get up, you big blowhard!" panted Bob. "I'm not through with you yet." But Buck Looker was through, abjectly and entirely through. "Have a heart, Bob," he whined. "I don't want to fight any more. My jaw feels as though it was broken." "I hope it is!" said Bob. "You big bully! What do you mean by climbing up on my barn and trying to wreck my aerial?" "I won't ever try to monkey with it again, honest I won't!" whined Buck. "You'd better not," advised Bob grimly. "And when you see your friends, tell them I'll do the same to them that I've done to you if they come around here. They'd better keep off these premises unless they're looking for trouble." "I'll tell them to keep hands off," promised Buck, nursing his injured jaw. "Will you promise not to hit me if I get up?" "Yes, get up and get out of here," said Bob, disgustedly, and he turned his back contemptuously on the bully and started for the house. As he turned his back, Buck scrambled to his feet with a look of malignant hatred on his face and looked about him, apparently in search of some object he could use as a weapon. Fortunately there was nothing handy that he could use as such, and after stealthily shaking his fist at Bob he sneaked off toward town, one hand still holding his injured jaw. After washing his face in cold water, Bob saw that he had received only a few minor scratches and bruises. "I guess I taught that big bully a lesson that he won't forget in a hurry," he reflected. "It will be a long time before he or any of his sneaking friends will come tampering with our wireless again. He's had that licking coming to him for a long time, and I'm glad I was lucky enough to be the one to give it to him." Tired out by the encounter, Bob turned in and slept soundly until awakened by the morning sun streaming in through the open window. CHAPTER XIV ON THE VERGE Bob felt sore and stiff as a result of the moonlight battle, but he showed little visible sign of it, although there was enough to excite questioning at the breakfast table. Bob narrated what had taken place, and the family was very indignant over Buck's invasion of their property. "If you hadn't given young Looker such a sound trouncing I would make a complaint to his father," said Mr. Layton. "But under the circumstances I guess there is no need to say anything further about it. His misdeeds seem to have brought their own punishment somewhat sooner than is usual," he added, with a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, I don't think he'll come bothering around here in a hurry, Dad," said Bob. "I always thought he had a streak of yellow in him, and now I'm sure of it." "Most bullies have," observed Mr. Layton, as he rose to go down to the store. "I'm glad you caught him at it before he had a chance to do any damage, because I'm getting interested in that radio business myself. If you boys really get it going with the apparatus that you've made yourselves you'll deserve a lot of credit." "Well, we'll soon know whether it works or not," said Bob. "We hope to have it in shape to test out to-night." "So soon?" said Mr. Layton, surprised. "That will be fine! I hope you won't be disappointed," and he went out on his way down to the store. He had been gone hardly half an hour when Bob heard a cheerful chorus of whistles outside, and knew that his friends had arrived bright and early, as they had promised. "Here we are, right on the job," said Jimmy, as Bob opened the door for them. "But say, what's happened to you? You look as though you'd been in a fight." "There's nothing surprising about that, because I have been in a fight," replied Bob, grinning. "With whom?" they all asked at once. "An old friend of ours--dear old Buck Looker," responded Bob. "Well, what--what--when did you see him to fight with him?" stuttered Jimmy. "It all happened last night after you fellows had gone home," said Bob, and then gave them an account of how he had surprised the bully and the fight that had followed. "Well!" exclaimed Joe, drawing a long breath when Bob had finished, "I'm glad you gave him a good licking, Bob. I envy you because you had the chance first. I'd like to get a look at Buck now." "I imagine he'll keep out of sight for a few days," returned Bob. "I don't think I improved his beauty any." "I wonder if he had time to damage the aerial any," said Herb. "Have you taken a look at it yet, Bob?" "No, I haven't been up," said Bob. "We might do that now, I suppose." Accordingly the four boys climbed up on the barn, using the same ladder that Buck Looker had used the night before. They found that Buck, with his customary lack of brains, had failed to provide himself with a pair of wire cutters, with which he could have easily clipped the aerial, but instead had tried to unwind the wire from the insulator eyelet with his fingers. He had succeeded in getting it partially unfastened before Bob had interrupted him, but it took the boys only a few moments with a pair of pliers to rewind it, leaving everything as strong as before. "That just shows how little brain power that fellow has," said Joe. "What good would it have done him if he had got the aerial down? It wouldn't have taken us long to put it up again." "Just for the satisfaction of boasting about it, I suppose," said Herb. "But I guess he won't say much, about this affair. He'll calm down for some time to come, anyway." "We'd never have heard the last of it from that bunch if they had been able to put something over on us," said Bob. "But never mind that crowd now. Let's get to work on our panel and see if we can't get things hitched up in time for the Saturday evening concert. I'm crazy to get the thing actually finished now." "No more than I am," said Joe. "Let's go!" His three chums all felt very much at home in Bob's workroom, and knew where to find the various tools almost as well as Bob did himself. Jimmy was given the job of sawing a panel board out of an oak plank, while the others busied themselves with stripping the insulation from lengths of wire and scraping the bared ends to be sure of a good, clean connection. Bob also cleaned and tinned his soldering iron, in preparation for the numerous soldered joints that it would be necessary to make. "It seems to me you rest an awful lot in between strokes, Doughnuts," said Herbert to that perspiring individual. "Why don't you keep right on sawing until you get through? It seems to me that would be a lot better than the way you're doing it." "If you don't like the way I'm doing this, just come and do it yourself," was the indignant reply. "I'd like to see you saw through twenty inches of seven-eighths oak without stopping. You always seem to get all the soft jobs, anyhow. Whenever there's anything real hard to do, like this job, for instance, it gets wished on me." "That's because we know you like hard work," said Bob, laughing. "Well, I get it whether I like it or not," complained Jimmy. "But it's almost done now, so I'll finish it quickly and prevent any of you fellows having to do some real work." "Jimmy's certainly good at that, you have to admit it," said Joe. "I could just stand here all day and admire the way he does it." But for once the fat boy refused to rise to the bait, and kept doggedly on until at last he had a neat twenty inch square cut out of the big plank. "There you are, Bob," said Jimmy, panting. "Now see if you can't find some heavy job for these two Indians here." "I'd like to, first rate," laughed Bob, "but I guess you've about finished up the last of the hard jobs. Of course, we've still got to drill a lot of holes in that piece of wood, but that's easy enough." "If you give me your word it's easy, I'll tackle it," said Herb. "Where do we want the holes, Bob?" "I don't know yet," said Bob. "We've got to arrange the different parts on the panel first, and find out just where we want them before we drill a single hole. I don't want to have to change things around after we put holes in the board and spoil the appearance of it." He laid the board on the bench, and arranged the tuning coil, the crystal detector, the condenser, and the terminals for the head phone plugs in what he thought should be their proper positions, and then called for advice on this layout. "If anybody can think of a better way to set these things up, let him speak now or forever hold his peace," said he. "That looks all right to me," returned Joe, eyeing the outfit critically. "But we'll have to raise the panel up an inch or two so as to give room underneath for wires and connections, shan't we?" "Right you are!" exclaimed Bob. "There's another job for you, Jimmy. We'll have to have two cleats to go underneath and raise the whole business up." "I thought it was about time for something else to come along for me," grumbled Jimmy. "Just when I was thinking of lying down and resting, too." "Oh, that's nothing," laughed Herb. "There never is a time when you're not thinking of lying down and resting, so don't let that worry you." "Of course there are other times," said Joe, while Jimmy was still struggling to find a crushing answer to Herb's attack. "I'm surprised at you, Herb! How about all the times he's thinking of getting up and eating!" "Gosh, that was a bad mistake," said Herb, with mock seriousness. "I did you an injustice, Doughnuts, and I apologize." "You two will never get to be old," said Jimmy, picking up his trusty saw. "You're altogether too smart to live, I'm afraid." "Oh, I don't think there's any need to worry about that," said Bob, casually, coming to Jimmy's aid. "I think myself they'll probably live to be a hundred." "Wow!" exclaimed Joe. "That was a wicked wallop, Bob." "It's no more than you deserve," said Jimmy. "A good wallop with the business end of a gas pipe would be about the best thing that could happen to some people." "I'm glad he doesn't mean us, Joe," said Herb, with a wink at his friend. "Never mind whom I mean," said Jimmy. "Here are your cleats, so you can get busy and screw them on to the back of that panel. I'll lie down on the couch and watch you to see that you don't make any mistakes." "No danger of that," said Herb. "I couldn't make a mistake if I tried. Wait till I get hold of a screw driver and watch my speed." "You'll probably make a mistake without trying," said Jimmy, "but I suppose there's no use trying to give you good advice, so go ahead." However, Herb justified his modest estimate of himself this time, for he soon had the cleats strongly fastened to the back of the panel, raising it two inches, which gave plenty of clearance for wires and screw heads underneath. "That will make a better job of it, anyway," said Bob. "I was figuring on running the wires on the top side, but if we put them underneath it will look neater, although it will take longer to do it." "We might as well do it up brown now that we've got this far," said Joe, and the others were of the same opinion. The boys arranged the various pieces of apparatus to their satisfaction, and then drilled holes through and bolted them securely to the back. This also took a little more time than merely to screw them to the face of the panel, but made a more secure and lasting piece of work. They were still drilling holes and clamping down nuts when Mrs. Layton called down to tell them that lunch was ready. "Gosh! is it lunch time already?" exclaimed Joe. "It seems as though we had hardly got started yet." "I guess it is, just the same," said Bob. "Let's wash our hands, and eat." "This seems like rubbing it in, though," protested Herb. "We've almost been living here at your house lately, Bob, and now we're putting your mother to the trouble of getting lunch for us. I think we ought to go home and come around later." "Oh, nonsense," said Bob. "Mother's got everything all ready now, and she'd feel bad if you didn't stay. Come on up," and he set the example by making for the stairs. "Oh, well, if you insist," said Herb. "But I bet when Mrs. Layton sees what we do to the eats, she'll never ask us again." "Oh, she's used to seeing them disappear pretty fast," said Bob, "and I don't think anything will surprise her now." Mrs. Layton made the outside boys welcome with a few cheery words, and all sat down to a lunch in which fresh sliced ham, hot biscuits, and honey played a conspicuous part. Mrs. Layton was famous as a good cook, and it is certain that the present patrons of her art did not lack in appreciation. Before they got through, the table was swept almost clear of eatables, and even the insatiable Jimmy appeared satisfied, so much so that he appeared to have difficulty in rising with the others. "I guess we don't have to tell you how much we enjoyed everything, Mrs. Layton," said Herb. "Actions speak louder than words, you know." "I'm glad you liked it," she said. "I guess you'll all be able to get along till supper time now," she added, with a smile. "Let's go out on the grass awhile," proposed Jimmy. "I've got to lie down and rest a bit before I can do anything else. You slaves can work if you want to, but not for little Jimmy." It must be confessed that the others felt about the same way, so they all went out and lay on the soft grass under a big apple tree that grew near the kitchen door. "Ah, this is the life!" sighed Jimmy, as he stretched out luxuriously on his back and gazed up at the cloud-flecked sky. "It isn't so bad," admitted Bob, biting on tender blades of young grass. "But I'd enjoy it more if we had our outfit together and working." "It won't take long to finish it now, do you think?" asked Joe. "Not unless we strike a snag somewhere," said Bob. "After we get everything assembled, we've still got to run our leading-in wire down to my bedroom. But I don't think that will take us very long." "By ginger, I just can't loaf around until we do get it working!" exclaimed Joe, springing to his feet. "Come on, fellows, let's get busy. We can take it easy after we have everything fixed up." "I'm with you," said Bob. "I feel the same way myself." Herb jumped up too, but the only sound from Jimmy was a raucous snore ending in a gurgle. "Poor old Jimmy!" said Bob. "We've had him working hard the last few days, and I suppose he's tired out. Let him sleep awhile." So Jimmy was left to blissful slumber, and the others returned to their fascinating task. CHAPTER XV THE FINISHING TOUCH The three chums set to work with a will, cutting, stripping, and soldering wires, and while the afternoon was still young they made their last connection and found themselves possessed of a real honest-to-goodness radio receiving outfit, not quite so beautifully finished and polished off as a set bought readymade in a store, perhaps, but still serviceable and practical. "Hooray!" shouted all three together, so loudly that the sound reached Jimmy, still lying on the grass, and roused him from his blissful slumber. "What's the matter here?" he asked a few moments later, coming sleepily down the stairs. "Is the place on fire, or what?" "No, but we've got the whole set together at last, and we thought we were entitled to a yell or two," explained Bob. "Gee, that's fine! I didn't mean to sleep so long. Why didn't you wake me sooner?" "You seemed to be enjoying that snooze so much that we hated to disturb you," said Bob "There wasn't very much you could have done, anyway." "Well, I certainly feel a lot better," said Jimmy, with a prodigious yawn. "What's the next thing on the program?" "All we've got to do now is to hook up our leading-in wire and ground wire and we'll be all set," said Bob. "I've got a fine big table in my bedroom, and I was thinking that that would be a fine place to mount all our things and keep them together." This was agreeable to all concerned, so they repaired forthwith to Bob's room. This was situated on the top floor, and, as it happened, almost under the scuttle leading onto the roof. This made it comparatively easy to connect up with the antenna, as all they had to do was to bring the leading-in wire through the frame of the scuttle, drill a hole through the attic floor and the ceiling of Bob's room, and drop the insulated leading-in wire through. To make it perfectly safe, they surrounded the wire, where it passed through the scuttle and ceiling, with a fire proof asbestos bushing or sleeve. In this work they received some advice from Dr. Dale, who chanced to drop in. All this work took some time, and it was nearly dark when they had made all their connections, including the ground connection to a water pipe. On one corner of Bob's big table they had inserted a small knife-blade switch in the leading-in wire, so that the set could be disconnected from the aerial when not in use, or during storms so as to guard against lightning. When all was finished the boys viewed the result of so many hours of hard work and planning with mingled feelings of delight at its business-like appearance and apprehension that, after all, it might not work. "Gee, I'm almost afraid to try it," said Bob. "But we've got to find out what rotten radio constructors we are some time, so here goes," and he produced his set of head phones. So did Joe and Herb, but Jimmy was struck with a sudden unpleasant thought. "Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "I've gone and left my set home. I'll get it and come back as soon as I can," and he dived precipitately out of the room. "He didn't need to be in such a hurry," laughed Bob. "We could have taken turns with ours." "Well, let's connect up, anyway, and see if we can hear anything," said Joe. "There's no use waiting until Jimmy gets back. It won't take him a long while, and likely enough he'll be back before we raise any signals, anyway." "Well, pull up your chairs, and we'll plug in," said Bob, adjusting the ear phones over his head. "I saw in this morning's paper that the Newark broadcasting station was going to send out an orchestra concert this afternoon, and if our set is any good we ought to hear part of it." They all adjusted their ear phones and then drew up chairs and inserted the plugs in the spring sockets designed for their reception. They had connected four pairs of these sockets in parallel, so that all four head sets could be used at once. Now was the crucial moment, and the boys waited breathlessly for some sound to come out of the air to them. CHAPTER XVI SWEETS OF VICTORY Bob set one of the sliders about at the middle of the tuning coil, and set the other--the one connected to the leading-in wire--about opposite. Then he adjusted the sharp pointed wire on the detector until the point was just touching the crystal. Still there was no sound in the ear phones, and the boys looked at one another in bitter disappointment. Bob moved the antenna slider slowly along the tuning coil, and suddenly, faint, but very clear, the boys heard the opening chords of an overture played by a famous orchestra nearly a hundred miles away! Sweet and resonant the distant music rose and fell, growing in tone and volume as Bob manipulated the contacts along the coil. The boys sat spellbound listening to this miracle, to this soul stirring music that seemed as though it must surely be coming from some other world. Hardly breathing, they listened until the last blended chords whispered away into space, and then looked at each other like people just awakened from a dream. Bob was the first to speak. "I think we can call our set a success, fellows," he said, with a quiet smile. "Bob, that was simply wonderful!" cried Joe, jumping up and pacing about the room in his excitement. "Why, we can sit here and hear that orchestra just as well as though we were in the same hall with it. It seems like a fairy tale." "So it is," said Bob. "Only this is a fairy tale that came true. I wish Jimmy had been here to listen in with us." "He's here now, anyway," said a familiar voice, and Jimmy burst into the room, puffing and blowing. "Does it work, fellows? Tell me about it." "I should say it did work!" replied Joe. "We just heard a wonderful selection played by a big orchestra. It must be the Newark broadcasting station, as they had promised a concert for this afternoon." "I missed it, then, didn't I?" said Jimmy, with a downcast face. "Yes, but they'll play something else pretty soon," said Herb. "Plug in with your ear phones, and maybe you'll hear something to cheer you up." "It will take quite a good deal," said Jimmy, "after hoofing it all the way to my house and back on the double quick. I'll bet that trip took ten pounds off me, if it took an ounce." "That won't hurt you any," said Joe, with a total lack of sympathy for his friend's trials. "Hurry up and plug in here, so that we'll be ready for the next number on the program." "Oh, all right, all right," said Jimmy, adjusting his phones. "If I'm not ready, just tell 'em to wait." The absurdity of this idea raised a laugh, which was suddenly cut short as the first notes of a rousing march came ringing into the earphones. Every note was true and distinct as before, with practically no interference, and when the last note had died away the boys rose and as though actuated by one impulse, executed an impromptu war dance. When they had quieted down somewhat, Bob rushed downstairs and brought his mother up to hear her first radio concert. She was rather incredulous at first, but when the first notes of a violin solo reached her ears, her expression suddenly changed, and when the selection was over she was almost as enthusiastic as the boys themselves. "That was simply wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I never imagined you would be able to hear anything half as distinctly as that." "I'll bet you never thought you'd hear anything over our home-made set, now did you?" accused Bob. Mrs. Layton looked a trifle guilty. "I never thought you'd get it working so soon nor so perfectly," she confessed. "But now that you have, I certainly congratulate you." They all listened for some time for something else to come in over the aerial, but apparently the concert was over, for they could hear nothing but a confused murmur, with here and there some fragment of a sentence coming out clear above the general confusion. This was probably due to the sending being so distant as to be almost beyond their range. Just before supper time they heard a message from a ship at sea, and Joe, Herb, and Jimmy could hardly tear themselves away to go home to supper. They finally got started, however, promising to return as soon as they could after supper, so as to be in time for the evening concert. After they had gone, Bob called up Doctor Dale, and told him of the successful outcome of their experiment. The minister was delighted. "That's great work!" he exclaimed heartily. "So the set works well, does it?" "Yes, sir, it certainly does," said Bob. "Of course it's not as good as yours, and we can't tune out interference very well. But it does all that I hoped it would, and more. I wish you could get around to hear it when you get a chance." "I tell you what I'll do," said the doctor. "I have an expert radio man visiting me here this evening. How would it be if I dropped around some time during the evening, and brought him with me?" "Fine!" exclaimed Bob, delighted at the prospect of talking with an experienced radio man. "We'll all be looking for you, sir." Bob was delighted over the doctor's promise, and told his friends about it as soon as they arrived that evening. They were all equally pleased. "He can tell us just what we need to know," commented Joe. "You can dig a lot of stuff out of books, but lots of times just the question you want answered doesn't seem to be in them." The boys had just raised the Newark station, end were listening to the first number on the program, a soprano solo, when the minister and his friend arrived. He introduced the stranger as Mr. Brandon, and the latter immediately made himself at home. "I hear you fellows got your set working first crack out of the box," he said, as they were going upstairs. "You're luckier than I was with my first one, because I had a lot of trouble before I got my first signal through. I fooled around a long time before I found out what the trouble was, too." "What was it?" asked Bob. "I finally found that the water pipes were insulated from the street pipes, as they are in some houses, so that I really didn't have any ground at all, even though my ground wire was connected with a pipe in the bathroom. I might have been looking for the trouble yet if a friend of mine hadn't given me a tip what to look for." By this time they had reached Bob's room, and Dr. Dale and Mr. Brandon inspected the boys' outfit with great interest. "Pretty good for beginners, isn't it, Brandon?" said the minister at length, when they had gone over the thing at length and Bob had explained the way they had made the different units. "I should say so," acquiesced the expert. "They've made up one of the neatest amateur jobs I've seen in a long time. Let's see how it sounds." He and the doctor donned head phones, and Mr. Brandon manipulated the tuning coil and the crystal detector with a deftness that spoke of long experience. He showed the boys how they might get even clearer and louder tones than any they had yet obtained by adjusting the detector until the best possible contact was obtained with the crystal. "You could hear better with a more elaborate set, of course," he said, "but you get mighty good results with what you've got. Of course, you're range is limited to less than two hundred miles with this set, and your tuning range is limited, too. But you've made a fine start, and with this as a foundation you can go on adding equipment, if you like, until you have a first class receiving station." "Yes, and after we get a little more experience, we want to try our hand at sending, too," said Joe. "Well, that's a more complicated undertaking," said Mr. Brandon. "But there's no reason why you shouldn't, if you are willing to go to the trouble to learn the international code and take an examination. You have to be able to receive ten words a minute, you know, to get a license." "I suppose you're an expert both sending and receiving," said Bob. "I ought to know something about it by this time," said Mr. Brandon. "Uncle Sam has me working for him now as radio inspector, so I'm supposed to know something about it." "Mr. Brandon was with the aviation radio branch of the service during the war," explained Dr. Dale, "and he has seen radio telephony develop from almost nothing to what it is to-day." "Yes, it was the war that speeded up the growth of radio," said Mr. Brandon. "It revolutionized war in the air, and made it possible to control the movements of airplanes in a way that had never, been dreamed of before." "You must have had some mighty interesting and exciting work," ventured Herb. "All of that," admitted Dr. Dale's friend, with a smile. "Once our whole station was wrecked by a bomb dropped on it from an enemy plane. Luckily, we all had time to duck out before the bomb landed, but there wasn't anything left of our fine station but a big hole in the ground and bits of apparatus scattered around over the landscape. There were very few dull moments in that life." "It doesn't sound very dull," said Bob, laughing. "I can assure you it wasn't," said the radio expert. "But in the case I was telling you about, our airmen brought down the fellow who had dropped the bomb, which made us feel a little better." "There's some interesting stuff coming in now," said Dr. Dale, who had been listening in at the receiving set. "They're sending out news bulletins now, and I'd advise you to listen for a bit. It's away ahead of reading a newspaper, I assure you." "Besides being easier on the eyes," grinned Mr. Brandon. "Let's hear what it's all about." Sitting at ease, they heard many important news items of the day recorded. There was a little interference from an amateur sender, but they finally managed to eliminate this almost entirely by manipulation of the tuning coil. "I know that fellow," said Brandon. "I was inspecting his outfit just a few days ago. He's got a pretty good amateur set, too. He's located in Cooperstown, not twenty miles from here." "My, you must know every station in this part of the country!" exclaimed Joe, surprised. "It's my business to know them all," said Brandon. "And if anybody takes a chance and tries to send without a license, it's up to me to locate him and tell him what's what." "It must be hard to locate them, isn't it?" asked Jimmy. "Sometimes it is," returned the radio inspector. "I'm tracing down a couple now, and hope to land them within a few days." The little company had some further interesting talk, and then, as it was getting rather late, Dr. Dale and his friend rose to go. "I'm glad to have met all you fellows," said the radio expert, shaking hands all around. "If there's anything I can do to help you along at any time, Dr. Dale can tell you where to find me, and I'll be glad to be of service." The boys thanked their visitor heartily, and promised to avail themselves of his offer in case they found that they needed help. Then Bob saw the visitors to the door, and returned to his friends. "We're mighty lucky to have met a man like that, who knows this game from start to finish," said Joe. "I'd give a lot to know what he does about it." "You never will know as much," said Jimmy. "Mr. Brandon is a smart man." "Meaning that I'm not, I suppose?" said Joe. "Well, there's no need of my being smart as long as you're around with your keen young mind." "It's nice of you to say so," said Jimmy, choosing to ignore the sarcasm in Joe's tone. "I never expected to hear you admit it, though." "I'll have to get you two Indians a pair of boxing gloves, and let you settle your arguments that way, pretty soon," came from Bob. "Nothing doing," said Jimmy. "Boxing is too much like work, and it's time to go home, anyway," and he rose to look for his hat. "Anybody coming my way?" "Well, if there were any more messages coming in, I'd ask Bob to let me stay all night," said Joe. "But as it is, I suppose I might as well go, too. Coming, Herb?" "Yes, I suppose I'll have to." "Not at all," put in Jimmy. "I'm sure Mrs. Layton would just love to have you two fellows planted on her for a life time." "Nothing doing!" declared Bob, laughing. In a few moments three tuneful whistlers were making their way homeward, with hearts elated at the success of their first venture into the wide field of radio telephony. CHAPTER XVII THE FERBERTON PRIZE For several days nothing of special interest happened in Clintonia. Buck Looker made his appearance about the streets, one eye covered by a black patch. This he explained to his cronies by telling them that he wore the patch to keep out the sun, but even they had to take this with a large grain of salt, as Bob's friends took pains to let the real cause of Buck's trouble be known. Buck knew that he was not 'getting away' with his excuse, and the knowledge made him more surly and unpleasant than before. In the course of a few days he was able to discard the patch, but unfortunately he could not discard his mean and revengeful nature so easily, and his mind was continually occupied with plans to "get even." "We'll put that crowd out of business some way, you see if we don't," said Buck to Carl Lutz. "I'd like to do it, all right, but I don't see just how we're going to manage it," replied Lutz. "If Bob Layton can lick you, he can lick any of our bunch, so we don't want to get into trouble with them until we've got a sure thing." Buck agreed heartily with this unsportsmanlike attitude, but had more confidence in fortune. "Don't worry about that," he said. "We'll get our chance all right! And then won't we rub it into Bob Layton and his crowd!" and his face wore even a more ugly and sinister look than usual. For the next few days the boys' radio set was in much demand. Of course all their immediate relatives had to listen in, as it is called, and they also invited many of their friends, both boys and girls, to try it. "Oh, it's too wonderful for anything," declared Joe's sister Rose. "To think of getting all that music from such a distance!" "Yes, and that splendid sermon Sunday afternoon!" exclaimed Mrs. Plummer. "I declare, if Dr. Dale doesn't look out they'll make it so nobody will have to go to meeting any more." "I've certainly got to hand it to you boys," was Doctor Atwood's comment. "I didn't think you could really do it. This radio business is going to change everything. Why, a person living away off in the country can listen in on the finest of concerts, lectures, sermons and everything else. And pick up all the very latest news in the bargain." One day Bob had to go out of town on an errand for his father and he was allowed to take Joe along. At the out-of-town railroad station they quite unexpectedly ran into Nellie Berwick. The girl had recovered from the shock of the automobile accident but looked much downcast. "No, I haven't heard from Dan Cassey yet," she said, in reply to a question from Bob. "Then he didn't come back?" questioned Joe. "No--or, if he did, he is keeping in hiding. I guess my money is gone," and the girl heaved a deep sigh. "The rascal, the dirty rascal!" was Bob's comment, after they had left Miss Berwick. "Oh, how I would like to hand him over to the police!" "Yes, but give him a good licking first," added his chum. While Buck Looker was still racking his brains for an appropriate form of punishment for Bob and his chums, a most interesting thing happened to the radio boys. The Representative in Congress of the district in which Clintonia was located, Mr. Ferberton, came out with an offer of a prize of one hundred dollars for the best amateur wireless outfit made by any boy in his district, and a second prize of fifty dollars. It was stipulated that the entire set, outside of the head phones, must be made by the boy himself, with out any assistance from grown-ups. A time limit of three weeks was allowed, at the end of which time each set submitted was to be tried out by a committee composed of prominent business men and radio experts, and the prizes awarded to those getting the best results and making the neatest appearance. It may be imagined what effect this offer had on the four radio boys. The announcement was made at the high school one day, and from that time on the boys were engrossed with the idea of winning the coveted prize. "Just think of the honor it would be, let alone the hundred dollars," said Bob. "Whoever wins that prize will be known through the entire State." "I wouldn't care much who got the honor, so long as I got first prize," said Jimmy, avariciously. "What I couldn't do with all that money--yum, yum!" "Yes, or even fifty dollars wouldn't be anything to sneeze at," said Joe. "I give you fellows notice right here that you'll have to step mighty lively to beat yours truly to one of those fat plums." "Gee, you'll never have a chance," said Jimmy. "Why, my set will be so good that it will probably win both prizes. Nobody else will have a look in." "All you'll win will be the nickel plated necktie for trying," said Herb. "If you really want to see the winner of the first prize, just gaze steadily in my direction," and he grinned. "I'm not saying anything, but that doesn't prove that I'm not thinking a lot," said Bob. "Never leave little Bob Layton out of it when there's a prize hanging around to be picked." "It would be just like your beastly luck to win it," said Jimmy. "There won't be much luck about this, I guess," said Joe. "By the time the judges get through picking the winner, the chances are it will take a pretty nifty set to pull down first prize--or second, either, for that matter," he added. "There's a lot of fellows trying for it, I hear." "Well, as far as we four go, we all start even," continued Bob. "All that we know about radio we learned together, so nobody has a head start on the other." "That doesn't help me much," said Herb. "What I need is a big head start. I think I'll enjoy myself working the set we have already, and let you fellows slave your heads off trying for prizes. I know I'd never win one in a thousand years, anyway." "Oh, you might--in a thousand years," put in Jimmy, wickedly; "not any sooner than that, though." "Oh, who asked you to put in your two cents' worth, you old croaker?" said Herb, giving Jimmy a poke in his well padded ribs. "I'll win that prize just as well by not working as you will by working. You know you're too fat and lazy, to make up a set all by your lonesome." "I'm not too lazy to try, anyway," returned the fat boy, "and that's more than some people can say." "He's got you there, Herb," laughed Bob. "Why don't you start in and make a try for it, anyway?" "Nothing doing," said Herb. "If I took the trouble to make a wireless outfit good enough to cop that prize, I'd expect them to pay me a thousand dollars for it instead of a measly little hundred." "To hear you talk, anyone would think that hundred dollar bills grew on trees," said Joe. "I'll bet any money you never saw a hundred dollars all at one time, in your life." "To tell you the truth," said Herb, "I don't really believe there's that much money in the whole world. I must admit I've never seen it, anyway." "You'll see it when I show it to you," said Jimmy, with more show of confidence, it must be admitted, than he really felt. "Well, remember we're all pals," said Herb. "If you win that prize, Jimmy, I get half, don't I?" "Yes, you don't. I might blow you to an ice cream soda, but outside of that, my boy--nothing doing." One day the hardware dealer of whom they had purchased their supplies called Bob, Joe and Jimmy into his establishment. "Got something to show you," he declared importantly. "New box set, just from New York, and sells for only twenty-two fifty. Better than any you can make. Want to try it? There's a concert coming in from Springfield right now." "Yes, sir, we'd like to try it, and it's good of you to let us," answered Bob. "But we believe in making our own sets. That's more than half the fun." "Yes, but just wait till you hear this box set," urged the dealer. "Then maybe you'll want to own one. A professional set is always better than an amateur one, you know." The boys didn't know but they did not say so. They followed the man to a back room of his establishment, where the box set rested on a plain but heavy table. "There are the ear phones, help yourselves," he said. "I've got to wait on that customer that just came in." The three radio boys proceeded to make themselves at home around the table. They adjusted the ear phones and listened intently. There was not a sound. "Guess the concert is over," observed Doughnuts. "Wait till I make a few adjustments," put in Bob, and proceeded to tune up as best he could. He had been reading his book of instructions carefully of late, so went to work with a good deal of intelligence. "There it is!" cried Joe, as the music suddenly burst upon their ears. "Listen, fellows! They are playing Dixie!" "And it sounds mighty good," added Jimmy enthusiastically. "But no better than it would on our set at home," put in Bob, quickly. "Not a bit," added Joe, loyally. The three lads listened to another selection and then the storekeeper joined them. "Isn't that grand?" said he. "I'll bet you can't make a box as good as that." "Maybe we'll make something better," said Bob. "You come up to our place some day and listen to what we have." "Then you don't think you want a box?" And the shopkeeper's voice indicated his disappointment. "Not just yet anyway," answered Bob. "We'd rather buy the parts from you and make our own," added Joe. "Besides, we want to try for the Ferberton prizes." "Oh, that's it. Well, when you want anything, come to me," concluded the dealer. CHAPTER XVIII FRIENDLY RIVALS The radio boys, Herb excepted, finally decided each to make his own set without any consultation with any of the others, and submit it to be judged strictly on its merits. "Three weeks ought to give us plenty of time," said Bob. "I'm going to do a lot of experimenting before I start in to make the real set. Of course, the one we've already got belongs to all of us equally, and you fellows know you can come and use it any time you feel like it." "Your mother will be putting us out if we spend much more time at your house," replied Joe. "It seems as though we have just about been living there lately." "Oh, don't let that worry you," said Bob. "You know you're welcome at any time. Besides, we won't have to put all our time on the new sets, either. We can have plenty of fun in the evening with our present one." The boys finally agreed to build their sets each by himself, and to say nothing about any features or improvements that they might incorporate in it. They were all enthusiastic over their chances, although they knew that the winners would have to overcome a lot of first-class opposition. Herb felt sorry at times that he had not started a set of his own, but his was an easy-going disposition that took things as they came, and while the other boys were studying all the books they could find on the subject and consulting Dr. Dale, Mr. Brandon having departed, he was listening to music and talk over the original set, and enjoying himself generally. "You go ahead and have all the fun you want now," said Joe one time, when Herb was teasing him about working so hard. "My fun will come later." "Yes--if you win the prize," said Herb. "But if you don't, you won't be any better off than I am, and you'll be out all your work besides." "Not a bit of it," denied Joe. "Even if I don't win either prize, my set will be returned to me after the judging is over, and I'll have that to show for my trouble, anyway." "Maybe you will, if they don't tear it all apart while they're looking it over," said Herb. "Aw, forget it," advised Joe. "If I don't get anything out of it but the experience, I won't think that I've wasted my time." "Well, that's the spirit, all right," said Herb. "Go to it. But you ought to have heard the concert I heard last evening while you slaves were working your heads off." "Yes, but when I get this outfit of mine working, I'll be able to hear everything a lot better than you can with the set we've got now," said Joe. "I've got some good kinks out of a radio magazine that I'm going to put in mine, and it's going to be a regular humdinger." "Oh, all right, all right," said Herb, laughing. "That's the very thing that Jimmy was telling me only this afternoon. He's putting a lot of sure fire extras on his set, too. I don't think there will be enough prizes to go around." "I don't care whether there are or not, so long as I get one," said Joe, with frank selfishness. "One is all I want." "That's probably exactly one more than you'll get," grinned Herb. "But you may astonish us all by working up something really decent. Funny things like that do happen, sometimes." "'It's easier to criticize than to create,'" quoted Joe. "Likewise, 'he who laughs last, irritates.' If those two wise old sayings don't hold you for a while, I'll try to think up a few more for you." "Oh, don't bother, that's plenty," laughed Herb. "It doesn't take many of those to satisfy me." "Well, I'll have to leave you to your troubles," said Joe. "Now that I've got this idea in my noodle, I won't be able to rest until I get it worked up. "Say, wait a minute," said Herb. "I heard a swell joke to-day, and I know you'll enjoy it. There was an Irishman and a Jew--" but at this formidable opening Joe rushed out, slamming the door behind him. "Well, it's his loss," thought Herb. "But it is a crackerjack story, just the same. I'll have to go and find Bob and tell it to him." He found Bob hard at work at his bench downstairs. "Hey, Bob, want to hear a good joke?" he asked. "Nope," said his friend, with discouraging brevity. "Gee!" exclaimed Herb, "you're as bad as Joe. You neither of you seem to appreciate high-class humor any more." "Oh, we appreciate high-class humor all right," said Bob, with a wicked grin. "It's only your kind that we can't stand for." "Bang!" exclaimed Herbert. "That settles it. Any one of you knockers who wants to hear that story now will have to come to me and ask for it." "That's all right, Herb. Just you hold on to it until we do. Maybe it will improve with a little aging." "This story is so good that it can't be improved. But I'm going home now, so if you want to give yourself the pleasure of hearing it, you'd better say so right away." "No, I'll get along somehow without it," answered Bob. "But maybe Jimmy would like to hear it. Have you tried it on him?" "No, and what's more, I'm not going to. I've lost my confidence in that story now. I guess it can't be so good after all." "Probably not," agreed Bob gravely. "Oh, get out!" cried Herb. "I'm going home!" and he departed indignantly, slamming the door behind him. CHAPTER XIX A SPLENDID INSPIRATION "Say, fellows, I've been thinking about something," said Bob seriously, so seriously, in fact, that the three boys who had been lolling on the grass turned over and regarded him with interest. "Gosh, did you hear what he said?" asked Herb, with a grin. "He's got an idea, fellows. Hold your hats, I bet it's a bear." "Spill it, Bob," came from Jimmy, lazily. "Gee, he sure is a wonder, that boy," said Joe, regarding his friend admiringly. "I've never known him to run out of ideas yet. Not but what some of 'em are rotten," he added, grinning. The next minute he dodged a clump of moist earth thrown his way by the good-natured Bob, the result being that the missile landed square upon Jimmy's unoffending head. The boys roared while poor Jimmy patiently brushed the dirt off, inquiring in injured accents what the big idea was, anyway. "Good work, fellows," crowed Herb joyfully. "That's bully slap-stick work all right. You have a movie star beat a mile already." "Say, cut out the comedy, will you, Herb?" asked Joe impatiently. "I want to hear about this great idea of Bob's." "I didn't say it was great, did I?" demanded Bob modestly. "It's just an idea, that's all." "Well, shoot," demanded Herb laconically. Bob was silent for a moment, wondering just how he could best express the thought that had suddenly come to him; just a little afraid that the others might laugh at him. And where is the boy who does not dread being laughed at more than anything else in the world? The day had been unusually warm for the time of the year, and the radio boys, turning their backs upon the town, had started out for a long hike into the woods. The heat, together with a visit to the doughnut jar just before meeting the boys, had wearied Jimmy, and he had been the first to suggest a rest. And so, having come across a talkative little brook, hidden deep in the heart of the woodland, the boys had been content to follow Jimmy's suggestion. Sprawled on the mossy ground in various ungraceful, though comfortable positions, the boys lazily watched the hurrying little brook, throwing a pebble into it now and then and talking of the thing that almost always filled their minds these days--their radio outfits. At last, urged on by the boys, Bob made public his idea. "Why, I was just thinking--" he said slowly. "I was just thinking how awfully slow things must be for the poor shut-ins--" "What?" demanded Herb curiously. Bob frowned. It bothered him to be interrupted, especially when it was hard to express what he felt. "Shut-ins," he repeated impatiently. "People who can't get out and have fun like us fellows." "Oh, you mean cripples like Joel Banks," said Herb with relief. "Gee, did you just find that out?" murmured Jimmy, turning over on his stomach and wondering if he really ought to have eaten that last doughnut. "Some folks are awful stupid." Herb showed a strong desire to avenge this insult, but Joe quelled the threatened riot. "Cut out the rough stuff, can't you, fellows?" he asked disgustedly. "Give Bob a chance." "Well," Bob continued during the temporary quiet that ensued, "I was just thinking what a mighty fine thing it would be for these poor folks who never have any fun if they could have a radio attachment in their own houses so that no matter how crippled they were, they could listen to a concert or the news, or any old thing they wanted to, without going outside their houses." "It sure would be fine," said Joe, a little puzzled as to what Bob was driving at but loyally certain that, whatever the idea, his chum was sure to be in the right. "I don't get you at all," complained Jimmy, finally deciding that he really should have left that last doughnut alone, there was beginning to be a mighty uncomfortable sensation somewhere in the center of his being. "Radio probably would be a fine thing for cripples but, gee, we're not cripples--yet." "Who said anything about us?" demanded Bob, disgruntled. "I never said we were cripples, did I?" "Well, spill the rest of it," groaned Jimmy as he shifted from one side to the other in the hope of relieving the pain that gnawed at his vitals. "What's the big idea?" "I was wondering," said Bob, sitting up and growing excited as his vague plan began to take shape, "if we couldn't get some of these poor folks together and give 'em the time of their lives." The boys stared at him and Herb shook his head sorrowfully. "Gone plain loco," he explained to the other boys, with a significant tap on his forehead. "They say life's pretty hard inside that asylum, too." "Loco, nothing!" cried Joe, beginning to understand Bob's idea and growing excited in his turn. "You're the one that's loco, you poor fish, only you haven't sense enough to know it. Where would we give this entertainment, Bob? At your house?" he asked, turning to his chum while Herb grinned at the suffering Jimmy. "Now, they've both got it," he said dolefully. "Well, I wish 'em joy of it," grumbled Jimmy. "Why, I thought of that at first," Bob said in reply to Joe's question. "Only with our instruments we have to use the ear pieces so that only a few could listen at a time." "That would be pretty slow for the rest of them," Joe finished understandingly. Bob nodded eagerly. "Sure thing," he said, sitting up and flinging the hair back out of his eyes. "I knew you'd catch the idea, Joe." "Say, I know what we'll do," broke in Herb excitedly. "How about taking all these poor lame ducks to Doctor Dale's house. He has a horn attachment--" "And they could all hear the concert at once! Hooray!" cried Jimmy, momentarily forgetting his pain in excitement. "You've got a pretty good head piece after all, Bob." "Yes, and a minute ago you were laughing at me," said Bob, aggrieved. "Well, say," cried Joe, who was ever a boy of action, "what's the matter with our getting busy on this right away? Let's go and see Doctor Dale--" "What's your big rush?" Jimmy protested feebly, appalled by the prospect of immediate action. "There's a lot of things we don't know about this business yet." "Sure, sit down and talk it over," urged Herb placatingly. "No use gettin' all worked up over this thing, you know. Say," he added, with a sudden light in his, eye, "that reminds me of a joke I heard." But a roar of protest from the other boys drowned his voice. "Gag him, some one, can't you?" Joe's voice was heard above the uproar. "The last joke he tried to work off on us was so old it had false teeth." "Gee," cried Herb, finally released and disgruntled. "It's plain to be seen real humor is wasted on this gang." The boys let it go at that and eagerly plunged into a discussion of the proposed concert. "Who do we know that we can invite?" Joe asked practically. "The only 'shut in' I know is poor old Joel Banks. He's a fine old boy--went all through the Civil War with colors flying. He's awfully old now, and so crippled with rheumatism he can't leave the house." "Fine!" crowed Herb irrepressibly. "Here's the first of our lame lucks." "Joel Banks isn't any lame duck! I'll have you know that right now," cried Joe hotly. "He's one of the finest old gentlemen you ever want to see, and a hero at that. My dad says he would take his hat off to him any day in the week." "All right, all right," said Herb quickly. "Don't go off the handle. I didn't know you were so strong for the old boy. Who's next on the list?" he asked, turning to Bob. "Why," said Bob uncertainly, "I know quite a few poor kids who were crippled in that infantile paralysis epidemic--" "Sure, so do I," broke in Jimmy, interested. "How about little Dick Winters and his sister?" "Fine!" cried Bob. "And I know a couple more I could pick up. Now let's see! That makes--Gee, how many is it?" "About five;" Joe figured for him. "That's enough, isn't it." "Y-yes," said Bob doubtfully. "Only your friend, the old war veteran, might not like to be squeezed in with a lot of kids, that way." "I can fix that easily," said Jimmy, importantly. "What's the matter with asking Aunty Bixby?" "Who's she?" asked Bob, with interest. "She's an old lady, a sort of spinster, I guess," Jimmy explained. "She lives all by herself, and I guess she gets kind of lonesome sometimes. She's kind of deaf, though," he added doubtfully. "Deaf!" repeated Bob, with a frown. "How can she listen to radio then, if she's deaf?" "Oh, she has a trumpet," Jimmy hastened to explain. "She sticks it in her ear like this," and he made a gesture with his hands at the same time distorting his face into such a comical imitation of a deaf person doing his best to listen that the other boys shouted with laughter. "Oh, she can hear, all right," Jimmy finished confidently. "Well, then, that makes six," said Bob briskly. "Now we've got to make up our minds how we are going to get them to Doctor Dale's house." "Maybe dad will let me take the big car," said Joe, his eyes shining with the sheer daring of the thought. "He is so crazy about radio himself these days that he will pretty nearly stand on his head to help anybody who takes an interest in it." "I guess all our dads are bricks about radio," declared Jimmy stoutly. "Mine said the other night he was mighty glad to have a youngster that had sense enough to pick out something really good to waste his time on." "Waste, is right," said Herb and then stared upward through the trees as Jimmy's indignant stare was fixed upon him. "Stop scrapping, fellows," said Bob, jumping to his feet and shaking off some of the twigs and damp earth that stuck to him. "Let's get busy and find Doctor Dale. If he won't let us have his house then this thing is all off." "Swell chance, his not letting us have his house," said Jimmy, getting painfully to his feet and shaking himself for all the world like a fat puppy dog. "He's the greatest sport going." "He sure is," Bob agreed as they swung off at a great pace through the woods. "If it hadn't been for him we probably wouldn't have known anything about radio." For a while they were quiet, their minds busy with plans for perfecting their own radio outfits, their imaginations athrill with anticipation of the wonders they were yet to perform. Then Herb suddenly broke into their dreams with a very practical question. "Boys, I just happened to think--" "'Happened' is right," murmured Jimmy, with a grin. "Even if Joe does get his dad's car," Herb went on, unmoved, "it's only a seven passenger, and there will be ten of us, counting the lame ducks." "Oh, that'll be all right," said Bob confidently. "We'll hire a jitney of some sort down at the livery." Thereupon they all plunged into a lively discussion of plans for the concert, and so absorbed were they that they found themselves walking down Main Street before they had any idea that they were near the town. As they neared the big stone church on the corner they espied a familiar figure mounting the steps of the parsonage. "Hooray!" shouted Bob, starting on a run down the street. "Just in the nick of time, fellows. There's the doctor himself!" CHAPTER XX THE TIME OF THEIR LIVES Doctor Dale heard their shout and waited with his genial smile till the four boys came panting up to him. "We've got a sort of idea, Doctor Dale," explained Bob, stammering in his eagerness. "And--and we would like to speak to you about it if you have time." "I can always spare some for you boys," the doctor assured him heartily. "Come on in, fellows, and let's hear about this idea. Something connected with radio, I suppose?" "Yes, sir," answered Bob, as Doctor Dale opened the parsonage door and the boys crowded eagerly after him into the cozy study. The doctor listened with interest while Bob outlined the plan to him, assisted by frequent interruptions from the other boys. And if the chums had expected enthusiasm from this good friend of theirs, they were certainly not disappointed. The doctor was jubilant over the idea and readily consented to giving his time unreservedly for the purpose of making the affair a great success. They set the date of the concert for the next day, which was Saturday, and added the names of several others to the list of those to be invited. A few minutes later the minister's callers departed gleefully, a warmer feeling than ever in their hearts for Doctor Amory Dale. "You've got the right idea, boys," the latter called after them, standing at the top of the steps to see them off. "Give happiness to others and you will find true happiness for yourselves." So far everything had gone swimmingly, and when the next morning the boys arose to find the sun shining brightly they thought that the fates had been almost too good to them. "Something sure will happen before night," Jimmy muttered gloomily, as he made his way down to the dining room, from which issued a tempting aroma of bacon. "It's all too good to be true." But then, Jimmy always did feel grumpy before breakfast. The boys each found his own family as enthusiastic as Doctor Dale had been about the great plan, and Bob's mother even hugged him impulsively as she passed behind his chair. Bob was almost ashamed of the happiness that welled in his heart. Of course a fellow of fifteen was too big to be hugged as a general thing, but, somehow, one's mother was different. After breakfast he started down town to see about the jitney, met Joe on the way, and the two boys went on together, talking excitedly of their preparations. "Dad says I can have the big car and the garage man will run it," Joe informed him gleefully. "Gee, I was never so surprised in my life. All he said was 'take it, my son, and Heaven grant you never want it for a worse purpose.' Great old sport, dad is." "Gee, that's great," said Bob. "Now if we can only find some old bus that looks as if it will stand up for a mile or two, everything will be dandy." After much kicking of tires and anxious examination, the boys did actually manage to find a Ford machine that promised, with more or less reservations, to do its duty, and, after engaging it with a driver for one-thirty that afternoon, they walked importantly from the shop, much to the amusement of the garage man. "Fine set of kids," he muttered, shaking his head admiringly as he returned to the machine that he was repairing. "Always full of pep and ginger whenever you see 'em. They'll go a long way, those kids will." In spite of various gloomy predictions, at one-thirty that afternoon there was still not a cloud in the sky and the breath of the sun smote downward almost as hotly as it would in midsummer. Gayly the four boys started off in the two cars, eager to pick up the poor shut-ins of their acquaintance and give them the time of their lives. Their first stop was at the lonely little cottage of Joel Banks, Civil War veteran. His housekeeper let them in, a quaint little woman with pink cheeks and white hair and a spotless white apron tied around her comfortable waist. When the boys made known their errand to her she departed in a flutter of pleased surprise to prepare "the colonel" for his treat. In a few moments more the old gentleman appeared, leaning heavily upon the housekeeper, a stout cane grasped stiffly in his knotted fingers. He gazed at the boys for a moment with dim eyes, then suddenly a gleam shot into them and he smiled. "Reckoning on giving me a treat, are you, boys?" he asked. Something must have caught in his throat, for he cleared it hastily. "Well, that's mighty fine of you. Been a long time since anybody took that much interest in old Joel Banks." Joe introduced his friends in hurried, boy fashion, and a moment later they were helping the old gentleman out of the house and into the automobile, at the same time pouring into his interested ears such tales of the marvels of radio telephony that it was a wonder they did not talk the veteran deaf. In the confusion Bob managed to whisper instructions to Joe. "We'll put the kids in your car," he said hurriedly. "There will be more room for them, and then they won't bother the old folks. And have the man drive slowly," he added. "This old bus isn't long on springs, and I don't want to jolt 'em up too much. Take it easy, Joe." "All right," agreed the latter, and a moment later they were gliding cautiously over the smooth roads on their way to the home of little Dick Winters and his sister Rose. The children were deliriously happy at the prospect of a little change and excitement, and there were tears in their mother's eyes as she helped the boys lift the children into the comfortable back seat of the Atwood car. "God bless those boys!" whispered the woman, as the two cars sped away down the road. Still further on the boys picked up several more crippled boys and girls, and then turned off a hot and dusty side road to call for Aunty Bixby. Secretly the boys were a little afraid of this formidable old woman, and they wondered rather nervously whether or not she would break up the party. When Jimmy, who was sitting beside Bob in the flivver, pointed out the white, ivy-grown house where the old woman lived, Bob nudged him nervously. "Remember, you've got to take care of her," he said, noticing that Jimmy himself looked rather worried. "You were the one who spoke about her--" "Gee, you don't need to rub it in, do you," growled the fat boy as he squeezed himself through the door and stepped gingerly onto the dusty road. "Better let me go in alone. She might get scared if she saw the whole bunch of us, and maybe she wouldn't come at all." In his heart Bob thought that that might not be such a terrible thing, but he kept quiet. A fellow ought to be thankful for small blessings. Think how much worse it would be if he, and not Jimmy, were forced to break the news to Aunty Bixby. The big car came to a stop beside the Ford, and all the boys watched with interest as Jimmy ascended the steps of the porch, rang the bell, and a moment later, disappeared into the house. But as the time passed and he still failed to emerge they began to get a little uneasy about him. Finally Bob let himself out of the car and went to consult with Joe and Herb. They had just about decided to make a raid upon the house and rescue poor Jimmy when the subject of discussion himself appeared, looking very red and flustered and out of sorts. The boys were about to make a concerted rush upon him, but he waved them back violently. "She's coming," he said in a hoarse tone somewhere between a whisper and a shout. "Get back there, you fellows." They got back just in time to see Aunty Bixby herself emerge. Bob gave one look and his heart sank into his boots. "Gee!" he muttered and there was anger in his eye. "Just wait till I get Doughnuts Plummer alone somewhere." Meanwhile Aunty Bixby was limping down upon them with all sails set, her stiff silk dress billowing out about her and her little hat set securely on her determined head, while Jimmy puffed along behind her. With rare presence of mind Bob jumped out, opened the door of the car and offered to assist the old woman. His reward was a cold stare that made him feel like a baby caught with the jelly jar. "No, thank you, young man," said Aunty Bixby. "I am quite capable of climbing into this--er--horrible thing, unassisted." Bob shot a wild glare at Jimmy, who hovered in the background, but at the look of utter misery on the latter's face, even Bob's hard heart was softened. As the old woman rustled into the car Joel Banks moved over courteously, but there was a gleam of amusement in his eye that puzzled Bob. How could he know that the old gentleman was having the time of his life? Bob nudged Jimmy, bidding him do his duty and introduce the two old people, and, to do poor Jimmy justice, he really did do his best. But Aunty Bixby could not get the name straight, even with the assistance of her ear trumpet. "Not that it matters in the least," said the old woman irritably, settling back with a grim expression on her face. "Now if you will take my advice and get started, young man, I would be very much obliged to you." As the chauffeur felt for the starter and threw in the clutch Bob was desperately conscious of the old woman's accusing gaze on the back of his head. "Say," he growled at Jimmy, huddled miserably in the seat beside him, "you sure did play a bonehead trick this time. She'll just spoil the fun for all of us." "Ah, cut it out," retorted Jimmy, wriggling uncomfortably. "She really isn't half bad once you get to know her." "Neither is poison," snorted Bob, as the car chugged wearily once or twice, then settled down to business. "If we ever get out of this alive, we'll be lucky." However, maybe it was the sunshine, or maybe it was Joel Banks' conversation that wrought the change in her. Be that as it may, Aunty Bixby unbent surprisingly in the next few minutes. Bob and Jimmy kept an interested eye on the back seat where Joel Banks patiently shouted dry jokes into the old woman's trumpet to the accompaniment of the latter's amused cackle. "You see!" Jimmy said proudly. "I told you she wasn't half bad if you only got to know her." And then, just when they were within half a mile of their destination the miserable thing happened. There was a sharp explosion and an ominous whistling of escaping air. The driver stopped the car, got out and regarded the flat tire with a frown of despair. "Now what's the matter?" demanded Aunty Bixby, irritably adding, with an air almost of triumph: "I always did say I hated the dratted things." How the chauffeur managed to get that tire changed the boys never afterward knew. Somehow or other he accomplished it and finally the car reached Doctor Dale's house without any further mishaps. They found the doctor awaiting them, and in his courteous way he welcomed the guests of the afternoon, welcoming each one in turn and helping the radio boys to see that each one was made as comfortable as possible. Little Dick Winters and Rose and even the older crippled boys were a trifle awed by the dignity of the occasion and the strangeness of their surroundings, but beneath the boys' merry joking and the doctor's friendly manner they soon got rid of this feeling and prepared to enjoy themselves to the limit. Mr. Joel Banks was intensely interested in the radio apparatus, asking intelligent questions, to which the boys eagerly replied. So interested were they in the mechanical end that Dr. Dale finally informed them that if they expected to listen in at any concert that afternoon they had better get to it without further delay. Aunty Bixby, listening anxiously through her ear trumpet, nodded emphatically at this suggestion. "Yes," she said in her high, chronically irritable voice, "let's get along with it. I want to see what that horn-shaped contraption can do. Looks to me like nothin' so much's an old fashioned phonygraph." "It's far more wonderful than any phonograph," the doctor told her good-naturedly. Then turning to Bob, directed: "Let her go, Bob. It's just time to catch that concert in Pittsburgh." Bob obeyed, and then the fun began. For an hour that seemed only a minute in length all listened to a concert of exquisite music both vocal and instrumental, a concert given by some of the world's great artists and plucked from the air for their benefit. Once Aunty Bixby dropped her trumpet and was heard to murmur something like "drat the thing!" But Jimmy gruntingly got down on his knees and retrieved the instrument from its hiding place under a chair. Then, finding she had missed part of a violin selection, the old woman exclaimed irritably. "There, I missed that. Have them play it over again!" The boys looked at each other, then looked suddenly away, trying their best to control the corners of their mouths. However, when the concert was over and the last soprano solo, flowing so truly through the horn-shaped amplifier, died away into silence they saw that Aunty Bixby's bright old eyes were wet. "Drat the thing!" she said, feeling blindly for a handkerchief. "Never heard tell o' such foolishness, making a body cry about nothing!" Joel Banks sat with a knotted hand over his eyes, dreaming old dreams of days long past, days when he was young and athrill with the joy of living. "How about a little dance music now?" asked Bob, glancing over at Doctor Dale, who nodded his consent. "Surely," he replied. "We have to have some dance music nowadays to please the young folks." The little cripples received this suggestion with enthusiasm and fairly shouted with delight as the snappy tune of the latest fox trot floated into the room. "That's the stuff!" shouted Dick Winters, and the boys grinned at him. Later they had a minstrel show that sent them all into gales of laughter. Joel Banks and Aunty Bixby were as sorry as the young folks when it was over. Then suddenly, without warning, the stirring strains of the Star Spangled Banner filled the room, played by a master band. Suddenly, as though by some common instinct, all eyes were turned upon Joel Banks. There was a light in the old veteran's eyes, a straightening of his whole sagging figure. He tried to rise, faltered, felt two pairs of strong young arms lifting him, supporting him, as Bob and Joe sprang to his aid. He stood there, his hand at stiff salute, in his old eyes the fire of battle, until the last stirring note died away and the music was still. Then he sank into a chair, shaking his old head feebly. "Those were the days!" he muttered under his breath. "Those were the good old days!" And so the concert finally came to a close and the boys took their happily weary guests home through the mellow late afternoon, promising to do the whole thing over some day. "They sure seemed to enjoy themselves," said Bob as the radio boys started toward home. "Aunty Bixby is a nice old lady, and as for Joel Banks--" "Say, isn't he a dandy?" Joe demanded, and this time Herb and Jimmy chimed in: "He sure is!" CHAPTER XXI THE VOICE THAT STUTTERED The following Saturday evening the radio boys were once more assembled at Bob's house. They were in high spirits, having prepared all their lessons for the following Monday, and were out for an evening's fun with their radio outfit. It was too early for the regular concert to start, but they were experimenting with the set, shifting the sliders around on the tuning coil in an effort to catch some of the messages sent out by near-by amateurs. It was sometimes great fun to listen in on these conversations, and often they wished that they had a sending set so that they could answer some of the remarks passed out by the ambitious senders. For some time they had picked up nothing of interest, and were wishing for the time to come when the concert was to start, when suddenly a voice they had never heard before came out of the air. The boys gazed at each other in astonishment for a few moments, and then broke into irrepressible laughter. For the voice belonged to a man who stuttered terribly, and the effect was ludicrous indeed. The strange voice rasped and stuttered its difficult way along, until some one who possessed a sending as well as a receiving set, interrupted. "Hey there!" it said. "You're engine's missing, old timer. Let it cool off a bit and then try again." This was evidently heard by the stutterer, for he became excited, and that did not help him much. "S-s-shut up, y-y-you big b-b-boob," he finally managed to get out, in an infuriated tone. "I may be a boob, but I can talk straight, anyway," replied the amateur. This so infuriated the stuttering man that he was absolutely unable to say anything for a few moments, while the boys, with much merriment, waited expectantly for the forthcoming answer. "S-s-s-shut up, w-w-will you?" exploded the unfortunate stutterer at last. "J-j-just you w-w-w-w--" but he was unable to finish the sentence until he stopped and gave vent to a long whistle, after which he was able to proceed. At the sound of the whistle Bob suddenly stopped laughing and sat up straight in his chair. "Say, fellows!" he exclaimed, "do you remember what Herb told us about the man named Dan Cassey?" "Jerusalem!" exclaimed Joe, "I remember Herb said he stuttered and had to whistle to go on, and if that doesn't describe this bird I'll eat my hat!" Jimmy and Herb himself caught the idea, at the same time, and they gazed speculatively at each other. There was more recrimination between the stutterer and his tormentor, and the boys listened attentively, hoping to get some clue to the whereabouts of the afflicted one's station. But they could get no hint of this, and finally the voice ceased, leaving them full of hope but with little that was definite to found their suspicions on. "Of course, it may not mean anything at all," said Bob. "This Dan Cassey isn't the only man in the world who stutters." "No, but there can't be many who are as bad as he is," said Joe, grinning at the recollection, even though his mind was occupied with more serious thoughts. "But it will certainly be worth our while to try to locate this person and find out what name he answers to." The others were of the same opinion, and they listened for some repetition of the voice in the hope that its possessor might drop some clue to his identity, but although they missed most of the concert by trying to catch the talk of the object of their interest, they heard no further word of him that evening nor for many more to come. The next morning but one when Bob joined his companions it was plain to see that he was bursting with news. "Say, fellows," was his salutation, "did any of you read in the morning papers of the big Radio Show that is opening up in New York City?" They had to confess that they were innocent of any such knowledge. "It opens to-morrow," went on Bob. "They say it's going to be one of the biggest things that ever happened. A regular rip-roaring, honest-to-goodness show. They'll have all the latest improvements in radio sets and all kinds of inventions and lectures by men who know all about it, and automobiles that run by wireless without any drivers--" "For the love of Pete," interrupted Joe, "go a little easy and let us take it in a little at a time. Any one would think you were the barker at a sideshow. Where is this wonderful thing to be?" "On the roof of one of the big New York hotels," answered Bob. "I forget the name just now, but it's one of the biggest in the city. What do you say, fellows, to taking it in? We ought to get all sorts of ideas that will help us in making our sets." "Count me in," replied Joe promptly. "That is, if my folks will let me go, and I think they will." "Don't leave out little Jimmy," remarked that individual. "Me too," added Herb. "That is, if dad will see it the same way I do." "I guess our folks won't kick," Bob conjectured confidently. "I notice that they're getting almost as much interested in the game as we are. Besides we won't have to stay in the city over night. The show's in the afternoon as well as the evening and we can be home before ten o'clock." "We'll put it up to them anyway," replied Joe. They did "put it up" to their parents with such effect that their consent was readily obtained, though strict promises were exacted that they would spend only the afternoon in the city and take the early evening train for home. It was a hilarious group that made their way to the city the next day, full of eager expectations of the wonders to be seen, expectations that were realized to the full. From the moment the boys crowded into the jammed elevators and were shot to the enclosed roof in which the exhibition was held they enjoyed one continuous round of pleasure and excitement. The place was thronged, and, as a matter of fact, many late comers were turned away for lack of room. But the boys wound in and out like eels, and there were very few things worth seeing that eluded their eager eyes. Impressions crowded in upon them so thick and fast that it was not until later that they were fully able to appreciate the wonders that were being displayed for their benefit. They listened to talks from men skilled in radio work, they wandered about to the many booths where information was given about everything connected with wireless, they studied various types of coils, transformers, vacuum tubes, switches, aerials, terminals, everything in fact that ambitious young amateurs could wish to know. There was the identical apparatus with its marvelously sensitive receiver, which, while installed in Scotland, had correctly registered signals from an amateur radio station in America. A little later they stood entranced in the Convention Hall before a new, beautifully modeled radio amplifier, so massive that the volume of music it poured forth actually seemed to cause vibration in the walls of the great room in which they stood. One of the most interesting features was the radio-controlled automobile. The crowd before this almost incredible invention was so dense that the operator was handicapped in his demonstration. The car was about seven feet in length, with a cylindrical mass of wire rising about six feet above its body. It was upon this that the swiftly moving car caught signals from antennae stretched across the hall. The boys watched, fascinated, as the inventor, opening and closing the switches in its mechanism by use of a radio wave of one hundred and thirty-five metres in length, caused the small car to back out of its garage and run about the hall without a driver, delivering papers and messages, afterward returning to the garage. Then they saw the transmitters that could shoot radio messages into space, and hung entranced over the moving pictures of what happens in a vacuum tube. Nothing escaped them, and they "did" the show thoroughly, so thoroughly in fact that at the end they were, as Joe expressed it, "all in." "Gee, I knew that show was going to be great," remarked Bob happily, as they were returning home on the train. "But I didn't have any idea that it was going to be such a whale." "It was a pippin," agreed Joe, as he snuggled back still further in his seat. Jimmy sighed gustily. "What's the matter, Doughnuts?" asked Bob. "I was just pitying," replied Jimmy, "the poor boobs who didn't see it." "And that's no joke!" said Joe. "Seeing all those things is going to be a big help toward winning those prizes." "Who said I was joking?" retorted Jimmy. "I wasn't. That show was the dandiest thing I ever saw." CHAPTER XXII THE STOLEN SET Meanwhile, Bob, Joe and Jimmy were working like beavers on their prize sets, and were making great progress. Mr. Ferberton's offer had aroused great interest in the town, and several other boys were working for the coveted prizes. The knowledge of this only spurred the radio boys to greater efforts, and they began to acquire a deeper insight into the mysteries of radio work with every day that passed. They began to talk so learnedly of condensers and detectors that Herb wished more than once that he had started to make a set of his own, and he was at last driven in self defense to study up on the subject so as not to be left too far behind. Almost two weeks had passed since they first started work on the prize sets when one evening Doughnuts came rushing into Bob's workroom with woe writ large on his round countenance. "What do you think, Bob!" he burst out. "Some crook has stolen my set." "Stolen your set!" echoed Bob. "What in the world do you mean?" "Just that," went on poor Jimmy. "I had it in my father's shop back of the house. I was working on it last night, and when I went out this evening, it was gone." "Was anything else stolen?" asked Bob. "No. That's the funny thing about it," replied Jimmy. "Nothing was touched but my set." "Then it looks to me as though Buck Looker or one of his crowd had taken it," said Bob, after thinking a few minutes. "You know they have it in for us, and they'd do anything to harm us." "Yes, but if that's so, why should they steal my set instead of yours or Joe's?" argued Jimmy. "Probably because it was easier to steal yours," said Bob. "We keep our sets in the house, while yours, being in a shed at the back, would be a lot easier to get away with." "Jimminy crickets! I'll bet you're right," exclaimed Jimmy. "It would be just the kind of dirty trick they'd be likely to play, too." "If it's Buck Looker and his crowd that's responsible for this, we'll have your set back or know the reason why," said Bob, throwing down his tools. "Let's go around and get the others, and we'll have a council of war." A peculiar whistle outside their friends' houses brought them out at once, and when they were all together Jimmy told them about his misfortune. They were as indignant as Bob, and had little doubt that Buck Looker was the author of the outrage. "It's dollars to doughnuts that gang's got it," said Bob. "Now, when a thing needs to be done, it's usually best to do it right away. We've got to get Jimmy's set back, and I've got an idea where we can find it." "Where?" they all asked in chorus. "Well, you know that crowd often hang out in that shack back of Terry Mooney's house--the place that his father built to keep an automobile in, and then could never get enough money to buy the automobile. They spend a lot of their time there. And if they've taken Jimmy's outfit, that's the place they'd naturally keep it. They wouldn't want to take it into any of their homes, because then their folks wound likely find out about it and make them give it up." "Gee, I believe you're right!" exclaimed Joe. "Let's go there right away and accuse them of it." "Better yet, let's go there and take it away from them," proposed Bob, with a grim set to his mouth. "Are you with me?" For answer they all started off in the direction of Terry Mooney's house, and as they went, Bob outlined a plan of attack. "We'll scout around first, and see if they're in the place," he said. "If they are, we may be able to get a look inside and see if there is any sign of Jimmy's outfit. If they've got it, we can decide the best way to take it away from them after we get there." CHAPTER XXIII BATTERING IN THE DOOR Ten minutes of brisk walking brought the radio boys to their goal. The Mooney family inhabited a large but dilapidated house, in the rear of which was the small building that the head of the Mooney family had erected in a moment when his enthusiasm had far outrun his bank account. He had never been able to buy a car to put in the building, and his son and his cronies had found it an ideal place to meet, smoke cheap cigarettes, and plot mischief. As they neared this shack, the radio boys kept in the shadows and approached noiselessly, it being Bob's plan to take the gang by surprise, if possible. Besides, he wanted to be absolutely sure that Jimmy's stolen set was in the building before making any further move. Noiselessly as shadows, the boys crept up to the shack until they were close enough to hear voices inside. They could easily recognize Buck Looker's arrogant voice, and at times the whining replies of Terry and Carl. There was only one small window in the building, and that was covered by a square of cloth. At the end of the shack opposite the window were two large doors, both closed. An electric light cord had been strung from the house, supplying current to one or more lamps inside the shack. The four radio boys prowled about the building, trying to find some place from which they could get a view of the interior. At last Joe found a place where a crack in a plank allowed them to see in. All three of the gang were inside, seated on rickety chairs about a rough pine table. And on this table, sure enough, was the missing radio outfit! Jimmy clenched his fists when he saw this, and was for an immediate attack. But Bob had a more crafty scheme in his head. "Here's a better stunt," he said, drawing his friends off to a little distance so that they could talk without running the chance of being overheard. "If we break in on them, they might make trouble for us later," said Bob. "But if we put their light out first, we'll be able to get hold of Jimmy's outfit without their really knowing who's doing it." "Cut the electric light cord, you mean?" said Joe, getting the idea like a flash. "That's the idea," said Bob. "Suppose you cut the cord, Jimmy, and the second you do, we'll all rush those front doors. They've probably got 'em locked but if we land heavily enough I don't think that will stop us. I'll make for the table and grab Jim's outfit, and when you hear me whistle twice you'll know I've got it, and we'll get out. They'll probably be fighting each other in the dark for a while before they even know we're gone." "Bob, I take off my hat to you," said Joe admiringly. "We'll work it just as you say." Doughnuts had a pair of wire cutters with him, which he had used when working on his set. Silent as ghosts, the four friends crept back to the shack, and Jimmy carefully separated the two wires of the cable and caught one of them between the jaws of his cutter. "When the light goes out, we rush," whispered Bob. "Give us a few seconds to get set, Jimmy, and then cut!" Bob, Joe, and Herb withdrew about ten feet from the big front doors and waited tensely for the light to go out. A scarcely audible click, and the shack was plunged in darkness. Like projectiles shot from a gun, the boys hurled themselves against the doors, landing with a crashing impact that shattered the lock into fragments and tore one of the doors bodily from its rusty hinges. Shouts of terror rose from the panic-stricken bullies inside, taken completely by surprise with no idea of what had come upon them. The radio boys scattered them head over heels as they made for the table, and the shack was a pandemonium of shouts, cries, and the crash of overturned chairs. It was the work of only a few seconds for Bob to reach Jimmy's radio set, and having secured this, he whistled twice to signify success, and made for the door. Meanwhile, as he had foreseen, the bullies, tangled in a heap on the floor, were grappling with each other, pounding away at whatever came handiest to their fists. The radio boys, having got what they came after, left the gang struggling in the dark, and made their way back to Jimmy's house, doubled up with laughter at times, as they thought of the ludicrous discomfiture of their foes. CHAPTER XXIV ON THE TRAIL "Gosh!" exclaimed Herb, wiping tears of merriment from his eyes. "I'll never forget this night if I live to be a hundred. Oh, my, but that was rich!" "Those fellows will learn after a while that it doesn't pay to get gay with this bunch," said Joe. "I think we let them off easy for stealing Doughnuts' outfit, as it is. We might have landed them a few swift ones while we were there." "They saved us even that trouble," Bob pointed out. "They were punching each other hard enough to suit any one." "That's right," said Joe, laughing. "I guess by this time they're sorry they stole that set." "I'm mighty grateful to you fellows for helping me get this back," said Jimmy, looking lovingly at his set, which had escaped with hardly a scratch. "When I found it was gone, I pretty nearly gave it up for lost." "'One for all and all for one,'" quoted Bob. "We'll teach Buck Looker and his set to let us alone, if it's possible to teach them anything. But I suppose we might as well run along now, because it's getting pretty late." "I happen to know that there's a big pan of rice pudding in the ice box," said Jimmy. "It may be late, but it's never too late for that, is it?" "Lead us to it!" the other three chanted in unison, and in a short time the rice pudding was only a memory. Then the boys said good-night and parted, each to his own home, well satisfied with the result of their adventure. Bob and Joe were walking down Main Street the next day, when they met Buck Looker and Carl Lutz, both looking very much the worse for wear. Joe stopped and gazed at them in apparent astonishment. "Why, what have you fellows been doing, anyway?" he inquired. "You look as though you had had an argument with a steam roller." "Yes, and the steam roller must have won," grinned Bob. "You know well enough what happened to us," growled Buck Looker malignantly. "If ever you fellows come around our clubhouse again, we'll make you wish you hadn't." "Clubhouse?" queried Joe innocently. "What does he mean, Bob? I didn't know he and Lutz had a clubhouse." "I mean that garage back of the Mooney's place," said Buck irately. "That's our clubhouse, and you fellows had better not try any rough house there again, or there'll be trouble." "Oh, I know the place he means," said Bob, after making a pretence of puzzled thinking. "He means that tumbled-down shack where Mr. Mooney keeps his garden tools. I'm sure we'd never want to go near a place like that, would we, Joe?" "Of course not," said Joe. "I wouldn't ask a respectable dog to go near that place." Looker and Lutz had been growing angrier all the time during this dialogue, but after their recent experiences with the radio boys they did not quite dare resort to open hostilities. But if looks could have killed, Bob and Joe would have dropped dead on the spot. "If you've got anything to say, now's the time to say it," said Bob, gazing steadily at the bullies with a look in his eyes that made them shift uneasily. "We're in a big hurry, or we'd tend to you right now," blustered Buck. "Come on, Carl. We'll fix them some other time." "No time like the present, you know," said Joe. But the two bullies had little inclination for a fair fight, as they had a pretty shrewd suspicion of how they would fare in that event. With ugly sidewise looks they passed on, leaving Bob and Joe in possession of the field. "They're beginning to think we're bad medicine," said Joe. "A little more training, Bob, and they'll even be afraid to talk back to us." "Looks that way, doesn't it," said Bob, laughing. The two radio boys went on to their destination, which was the hardware store, where they both wanted to buy some wire and other supplies. What was their surprise, when they went inside, to find Frank Brandon, the radio inspector, talking to the proprietor. As the boys entered, Brandon glanced at them, and then, as recognition came into his eyes, he extended his hand. "Hello, there!" he exclaimed. "How have you been since I saw you? How's the wireless coming on?" "It's O K," said Bob. "We're both trying for the Ferberton prize, you know." "That's fine," said Brandon heartily. "The prizes are to be given out pretty soon, aren't they?" "Yes. And we're both hoping that if one of us doesn't get it, the other will," said Joe. "If neither one gets it, it won't be anything against you," said Brandon. "I hear there are a lot of sets entered, and some of the fellows who have made them have been at the game a lot longer than you have." "We're doing a lot of hoping, anyway," said Bob. "Are they keeping you pretty busy these days?" "I should say so," said the radio inspector. "There's one fellow in particular that I'm having a lot of trouble with. I've got his location approximately, but in the neighborhood where he should be I haven't been able to locate any antennae to indicate the presence of a radio station. Usually it's easy enough, but this fellow seems to be a sly fox." "How in the world do you locate an unauthorized station, anyway?" queried Bob. "In each district in which there is a radio inspector we have what we call directional finders. These consist of a combination of a loop aerial and a compass and a radio receiving set. We have complete maps of the district. When the man we're after is sending, we swing the loop aerial around until the signals reach their loudest tone. Then a reading is taken on the compass. This action is repeated several times, after which we turn the loop so as to tune out all sound. During the silent period a line is drawn on the map at right angles to the direction of the loop. This line indicates the direction from which the sounds are coming. This takes place at the same time at all three stations, and where the lines on the map intersect is the point where the offender can be found." "But I suppose that location isn't very exact, is it?" asked Bob. "No; but it's usually exact enough," said Brandon. "We go to the place indicated on the map, and look about in the neighborhood for aerials. Anybody owning them has to show his license, if he has one, and if he hasn't--well, that's the man we're after." "Simple enough," commented Bob. "But when you don't know how it's done, it seems like looking for a needle in a haystack." "Yes, and by all the rules it should be easier than usual to locate this offender," said the radio inspector, "because he has a peculiarity that marks him out." "I'll bet I know what it is, too," said Bob quickly. "You do?" said Brandon, surprised. "He stutters badly, and then has to whistle before he can go on, doesn't he?" said Bob. "That's the man, all right," said Brandon. "Do you know anything about him?" "Well, if he's the man we think he is, we don't know much good about him," said Bob, and he proceeded to tell Brandon about Dan Cassey and the mean way he had tricked Nellie Berwick and stolen her money. "So you see you're not the only one looking for the stuttering man," said Bob, in conclusion. "We'd like pretty well to find out where he is ourselves." "But what makes you think this man I'm looking for is the same one you're after?" asked Brandon. "In the first place, there aren't many people who stutter so badly," said Bob. "And in the second place, Miss Berwick told us that she saw some radio apparatus on his desk when she was in his office." "That certainly goes a long way in hitching up the two," said the inspector thoughtfully. "Now," he continued, after studying a few minutes longer, "I have a proposition to make. I've checked up my calculations, and I'm going to have another try at locating this man to-morrow. As you're both interested in finding him, too, why not go with me and help me? Between the three of us we ought to find him." "Nothing could suit me better!" exclaimed Bob. "How about you, Joe?" "Fine," replied his chum. "To-morrow's Saturday, so we can go all right. But don't forget that we want to be back when the prize winners are announced," he said, struck by a sudden thought. "Oh, it won't take us very long to get on the ground," said Brandon. "I figure this man we're after is somewhere in Lansdale, and you know that isn't more than a two hours' run by automobile. If we haven't found him by the time you should be leaving in order to get back here on time, you two can come back by train, and I'll stay there. But if we get an early start I think the three of us, working together, should locate our man pretty quickly. Lansdale isn't a very large place, you know." "I can start as early as you like," said Bob. "How about you, Joe?" "That goes for me, too," said Joe. "Set your own time, Mr. Brandon." "Well, then, suppose you both meet me at Hall's garage at eight sharp to-morrow morning," proposed Frank Brandon. "I'll hire a good car and be all ready to start by that time." "We'll be there on the dot," promised Bob, and they all shook hands on the bargain. Bob and Joe made their purchases, said goodbye to the radio inspector, and left the store excitedly discussing their chances of locating the rascal Cassey and perhaps recovering Nellie Berwick's stolen money. When they parted to go home, each renewed his promise to be on time the following morning, and went his way filled with hope that at last the scoundrel would perhaps be brought to justice. "But I wish we could be sure that that old rascal would be caught up with and be made to give back Miss Berwick's money," reflected Bob, as he turned in at his own home. "She's in Clintonia again. I saw her at a distance to-day." CHAPTER XXV THE PRIZE But before going to bed that night, Bob had an idea which he proceeded at once to put into execution, with the result that there were some lively telephone exchanges and considerable excitement in various quarters. The fruit of his work was seen the following morning, when, on reaching Hall's garage, Mr. Brandon, instead of finding only the two boys waiting for him, found also Miss Nellie Berwick and a Mr. Edgar Wilson, a keen, wide-awake lawyer of Clintonia, whom Miss Berwick had retained to look after her interests. "I tried to get you also on the telephone last night, Mr. Brandon," Bob explained, after introductions had been made, "but I couldn't find you in. So I took the liberty of asking Miss Berwick and Mr. Wilson to go along with us on the chance that we might round up Dan Cassey." "That's all right," responded Mr. Brandon warmly. "The boys have already told me, Miss Berwick, of the dastardly trick that fellow played on you, and I shall be only too happy to have you and your lawyer go along with us. It would give me the keenest satisfaction to see that fellow get his deserts." Miss Berwick thanked him heartily and the party took their places in the automobile, which held five persons comfortably and was of a modern type. That it was speedy was soon proved by the way it sped along the road under the skillful guidance of Mr. Brandon. A rain two days before had laid the dust, and the roads were in perfect condition. In a surprisingly short time they had come in sight of Lansdale, a little village on the coast. They stopped at the post-office and Brandon climbed out of the car and went in. The postmaster eyed him warily, and was at first somewhat disinclined to give any information, but the sight of the badge that proclaimed Mr. Brandon a government official unloosed his tongue and he talked freely. "Know anybody about here by the name of Cassey?" asked Mr. Brandon. "Cassey? Cassey?" repeated the postmaster ruminatively. "No, there's nobody of that name around here. Or if there is, he's never been to this office to get his mail." "The man I'm speaking of stutters--stutters badly," said the inspector. "Is there any one like that in town?" "Just one," replied the postmaster. "And he stutters enough for a dozen. Worst case I ever knew. Gets all tangled up and has to whistle to go on. But his name's Reddy." "Has he been here long?" pursued the inspector. "Oh, a matter of a month or two," was the reply. "Never saw him before this year. Thought perhaps he was one of the early birds of the summer visitors that was rushing the season." "Where does he live?" asked Mr. Brandon. "Just a little way up the street," replied the postmaster. "Come to the window here and I'll show you the house." He pointed out a little cottage of rather dilapidated aspect, above which the keen eye of Mr. Brandon saw the end of an aerial. He thanked the postmaster and went out to his party. "I think we have our game bagged all right," he remarked, and rejoiced to see the light that came into Miss Berwick's eyes, "but of course I'm not sure as yet." He told them the result of his inquiries, and they were delighted. "I tell you what I think we had better do," he suggested. "I propose that we leave the automobile here and go up to the house on foot. Three of us will go in, while Miss Berwick and Mr. Wilson will stay out of sight at the side of the house until they get the sign to enter. The surprise may lead to confession and restitution if properly managed." The others signified their consent to this and proceeded toward the house. Miss Berwick and her lawyer stood at the side, where they could not be seen from the door, and the inspector, followed by the boys, mounted the steps and rang the bell. There was a moment's delay and then the door opened. A short thick-set man stood there with his hand on the knob. He wore large horn glasses, which may have been because of defective sight or possibly as a disguise. The eyes behind the glasses were furtive and shifty, and the mouth was mean and avaricious. "Is this Mr. Reddy?" asked the inspector politely. "Th-th-that's my name," answered the man. "W-what can I do f-f-for you?" "That depends," replied Mr. Brandon. "I called to see you on a matter of business. May I come in?" The man eyed his visitors with a look of apprehension and annoyance, but finally assented with a nod of his head and led the way into a small and meagerly furnished living room. "I see that you have a radio set here," remarked Mr. Brandon, seating himself and looking around the room. "Y-y-y-yes," stuttered the man. "W-what about it?" The inspector threw back his coat and showed his badge. At the sight of this symbol of authority the man gave a violent start. "I happen to be a radio telephone inspector," explained Mr. Brandon. "O-oh," said the man, visibly relieved that it was no worse. "W-why do you want to see me?" "Because you've been violating the government regulations," replied the inspector sternly. "There have been a number of complaints against you, and you've got yourself into serious trouble." As he spoke he crossed his legs, which was the sign agreed on, and unseen by the man who during this conversation had had his back toward the boys, Bob tiptoed out to the street and beckoned to Miss Berwick and her lawyer, who followed him promptly and softly into the room. "I'm s-s-sorry," the man was saying at the moment. "I d-d-d-didn't mean--" Just then Bob slammed the door shut with a bang. The man jumped, and as he turned about came face to face with Miss Berwick, who stood regarding him with a look of scorn. So startled was the man that his glasses dropped from his nose and he had to grasp a chair to hold himself steady. His face turned a greenish hue and rank fright came into his narrow eyes. "How do you do, Mr. Cassey?" asked Miss Berwick. "Do you happen to have my mortgage with you?" "Mr. Cassey?" repeated Mr. Brandon with affected surprise. "He told me his name was Reddy. How about it?" he asked, and his voice had the ring of steel. "Have you been trying to deceive a government officer?" The detected rascal dropped weakly into the chair whose back he had been holding. He seemed near total collapse. "Come now," said Mr. Wilson, stepping forward and tapping him on the shoulder, "the game's up, Cassey. We've got you at last. The money or the mortgage, Cassey. Come across with one or the other and come across quick. It's that or jail. Take your choice." Dan Cassey, shaking in every limb, tried to temporize, and stuttered until he got red in the face and seemed on the point of apoplexy. But the lawyer was inflexible, and at last Cassey took a key from his pocket and opened a drawer from which he took a paper and handed it over to Mr. Wilson. The latter ran his eyes over it and his face lighted up with satisfaction. "It's the mortgage, all right," he said, as he handed it over to his client. "That settles his account with you, Miss Berwick, and I congratulate you. But it doesn't settle his account with the law. You contemptible scoundrel," he said, addressing Cassey, "you ought to serve a good long term for this." Cassey, utterly broken, fell on his knees at this and fairly begged for mercy. He stuttered so horribly that the boys would have had to laugh if it had not been for the tragedy of the wretched creature groveling in such abasement. Miss Berwick intervened and held a conference with her lawyer in a low voice. "Well," said the latter finally, "of course, if you refuse to make a charge against him, there's nothing to do but to let him go, though he ought to be sent to jail as a warning to others. Get up, you worm," he continued, addressing Cassey, "and thank your stars that Miss Berwick's generosity keeps you from getting the punishment you so richly deserve." They left him there in his shame and disgrace, and went back to their car, after Mr. Brandon had warned the rascal that any repetition of his minor offense would bring down swift penalty, from the government. It was a happy party that rode back to Clintonia. There were tears in Miss Berwick's eyes as she thanked again and again the boys who for the second time had done her such a signal service. And Bob and Joe had a Sense of satisfaction and exhilaration that was beyond all words to express. On their way they passed through Ocean Point, a summer colony where many of the residents of Clintonia had cottages. It was on the seashore and every foot of it was familiar to the boys, whose own parents spent a part of the summer there every year. "It won't be long now before we'll be on this old stamping ground of ours," remarked Joe, as he looked at the surf breaking on the shore. "It will be good to be here again." "Right you are," replied Bob. "And we'll bring our radio sets along. This summer will be more interesting than any we've known before." How fully that prophecy was carried out, and how exciting were the adventures that awaited the boys will be told in the second book of this series, to be entitled: "The Radio Boys at Ocean Point; Or, The Message That Saved the Ship." Herb and Jimmy were as delighted as their chums when they heard of the way that Cassey had been trapped and forced to make restitution. But many of the details had to be postponed until another time, for just now their thoughts were full of the Ferberton prize which was to be awarded that night, and for which they were busy in making their final preparations. The town hall that night was crowded, and many had to be content with standing room. Upon the platform were numerous wireless telephone sets that had been received for the competition. Mr. Ferberton himself presided at the gathering. He made a most interesting address, in which he dealt with the wonders of wireless and gave a review of its latest developments. His own set, which was one of the largest and most powerful the radio boys had ever seen, had been installed on the platform with a large horn attached, and for an hour and a half, while waiting for the prizes to be awarded, the auditors were regaled with a delightful concert. In the meantime, a committee of three radio experts had been examining the sets submitted in competition. They subjected them to various tests, taking into account the care displayed in workmanship, the ingenuity shown in the choice of materials, and the clearness of tone discerned when each in turn was connected with the aerial and put to a practical test. The choice was difficult, for many of them showed surprising excellence for amateurs. At last, however, the awards were decided on, and Mr. Ferberton, holding the list in his hand, advanced to the edge of the platform. The silence became so intense that one could almost have heard a pin drop. "The first prize," he said after a few words of introduction, "is awarded to Robert Layton." There was a roar of applause, for no one in town was more popular than Bob. "The second prize goes to Joseph Atwood," continued Mr. Ferberton, and again the hall rocked with applause. "If there had been a third prize," the speaker concluded, "it would have been awarded to James Plummer. As it is, he receives honorable mention." And Jimmy too had his share of the cheering and hand clapping. Long after the lights were out and the audience dispersed, the chums sat on Bob's porch, elated and hilarious. "I'm the only rank outsider," grinned Herb. "I take off my hat to the rest of the bunch. You're the fellows!" "You needn't take it off to me," laughed Jimmy. "I got only honorable mention, and there isn't much nourishment in that. Not half as much as there is in a doughnut. I could have used that money, too." "What are you two bloated plutocrats thinking of?" asked Herb of Bob and Joe, who had let the others do most of the talking. "Radio," replied Joe. "The most wonderful thing in the world," declared Bob. THE END * * * * * THE RADIO BOYS SERIES (Trademark Registered) By ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of the "Railroad Series," Etc. ILLUSTRATED. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS FOR EACH STORY. A new series for boys giving full details of radio work, both in sending and receiving--telling how small and large amateur sets can be made and operated, and how some boys got a lot of fun and adventure out of what they did. Each volume from first to last is so thoroughly fascinating, so strictly up-to-date and accurate, we feel sure all lads will peruse them with great delight. Each volume has a Foreword by Jack Binns, the well-known radio expert of the New York Tribune. THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS; Or, Winning the Ferberton Prize. THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT; Or, The Message That Saved the Ship. THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION; Or, Making Good in the Wireless Room. THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS; Or, The Midnight Call for Assistance. THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE; Or, Solving a Wireless Mystery. THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FOREST RANGERS; Or, The Great Fire on Spruce Mountain. GROSSET & DUNLAP. PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK * * * * * THE TOM SWIFT SERIES By VICTOR APPLETON UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS. These spirited tales, convey in a realistic way, the wonderful advances inland and sea locomotion. Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good. TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL TOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANK TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCH TOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVE GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK * * * * * THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS SERIES BY VICTOR APPLETON UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS. Moving pictures and photo plays are famous the world over, and in this line of books the reader is given a full description of how the films are made--the scenes of little dramas, indoors and out, trick pictures to satisfy the curious, soul-stirring pictures of city affairs, life in the Wild West, among the cowboys and Indians, thrilling rescues along the seacoast, the daring of picture hunters in the jungle among savage beasts, and the great risks run in picturing conditions in a land of earthquakes. The volumes teem with adventures and will be found interesting from first chapter to last. THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE WEST THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LAND THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AND THE FLOOD THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS UNDER THE SEA THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE WAR FRONT THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON FRENCH BATTLEFIELDS MOVING PICTURE BOYS' FIRST SHOWHOUSE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT SEASIDE PARK MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON BROADWAY THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS' OUTDOOR EXHIBITION THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS' NEW IDEA GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK * * * * * THE OUTDOOR CHUMS SERIES BY CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN The outdoor chums are four wide-awake lads, sons of wealthy men of a small city located on a lake. The boys love outdoor life, and are greatly interested in hunting, fishing, and picture taking. They have motor cycles, motor boats, canoes, etc., and during their vacations go everywhere and have all sorts of thrilling adventures. The stories give full directions for camping out, how to fish, how to hunt wild animals and prepare the skins for stuffing, how to manage a canoe, how to swim, etc. Full of the spirit of outdoor life. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS Or The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE Or Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST Or Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF Or Rescuing the Lost Balloonists. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME Or Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON A HOUSEBOAT Or The Rivals of the Mississippi. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE BIG WOODS Or The Rival Hunters at Lumber Run. THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AT CABIN POINT Or The Golden Cup Mystery. 12mo. Averaging 240 pages. Illustrated. Handsomely bound in Cloth. GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK * * * * * THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH SERIES By GRAHAM B. FORBES Never was there a cleaner, brighter, more manly boy than Frank Allen, the hero of this series of boys' tales, and never was there a better crowd of lads to associate with than the students of the School All boys will read these stories with deep interest. The rivalry between the towns along the river was of the keenest, and plots and counterplots to win the champions, at baseball, at football, at boat racing, at track athletics, and at ice hockey, were without number. Any lad reading one volume of this series will surely want the others. THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH Or The All Around Rivals of the School THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE DIAMOND Or Winning Out by Pluck THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE RIVER Or The Boat Race Plot that Failed THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE GRIDIRON Or The Struggle for the Silver Cup THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE ICE Or Out for the Hockey Championship THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH IN TRACK ATHLETICS Or A Long Run that Won THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH IN WINTER SPORTS Or Stirring Doings on Skates and Iceboats 12mo. Illustrated. Handsomely broad in cloth, with cover design and wrappers in colors. GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK * * * * * THE FAMOUS ROVER BOYS SERIES BY ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) American Stories of American Boys and Girls NEARLY THREE MILLION COPIES SOLD OF THIS SERIES 12mo. CLOTH. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. COLORED WRAPPERS. THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATER THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR THE ROVER BOYS IN NEW YORK THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA THE ROVER BOYS IN BUSINESS THE ROVER BOYS ON A TOUR THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL THE ROVER BOYS ON SNOWSHOE ISLAND THE ROVER BOYS UNDER CANVAS THE ROVER BOYS ON A HUNT THE ROVER BOYS IN THE LAND OF LUCK THE ROVER BOYS AT BIG HORN RANCH GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK * * * * * THE PUTNAM HALL STORIES Companion Stories to the Famous Rover Boys Series By ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS. Being the adventures of lively young fellows at a Military Academy. Open air sports have always been popular with boys and these stories that mingle adventure with fact will appeal to every manly boy. THE MYSTERY OF PUTNAM HALL Or The School Chums' Strange Discovery The particulars of the mystery and the solution of it are very interesting reading. CAMPING OUT DAYS AT PUTNAM HALL Or The Secret of the Old Mill A story full of vim and vigor, telling what the cadets did during the summer encampment, including a visit to a mysterious old mill, said to be haunted. The book has a wealth of fun in it. THE REBELLION AT PUTNAM HALL Or The Rival Runaways The boys had good reasons for running away during Captain Putnam's absence. They had plenty of fun and several queer adventures. THE CHAMPIONS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Bound to Win Out In this volume the Cadets of Putnam Hall show what they can do in various teen rivalries on the athletic field and elsewhere. There is one victory which leads to a most unlooked-for discovery. THE CADETS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Good Times in School and Out The Cadets are lively, flesh-and-blood fellows, bound to make friends from the start. There are some keen rivalries, in school and out, and something is told of a remarkable midnight feast and a hazing with an unexpected ending. THE RIVALS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Fun and Sport Afloat and Ashore It is a lively, rattling, breezy story of school life in this country, written by one who knows all about its pleasures and its perplexities, its glorious excitements, and its chilling disappointments. GROSSET and DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK