69CHAPTER VIILEARNING 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 about70Hartmann, 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 hustle71some 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.”72
“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 all73chip 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.”74
“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 your75specialty, 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 he76compared 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.
77CHAPTER VIIIA 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.”78
“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 exchanged79greetings, 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.”80
“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.81
“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 all82the 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 close83quarters 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 he84did 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.
85CHAPTER IXLARRY 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 and86Hayes 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 were87decorated 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?”88
“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 half89as 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 a90little 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 out91with 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 when92the 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.93
“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.
94CHAPTER XA 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.”95
“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 it96to 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 Larry97exhausted 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 first98the 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 was99whirled 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 your100friend 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.101
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.
102CHAPTER XILIGHT 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.103“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.”104
“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.”105
“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 for106the 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,” admitted107Brandon. “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!” he108exclaimed, 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.109
“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. When110this 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 to111have 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 could112do 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.”