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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!