CHAPTER XXVI.

DING-DONG’S CLUE.

Ding-dong Bell, released early from the, to him, irksome task of

stock-taking in his father’s store, was making the last adjustments on

the new shore wireless station which was to place him in communication

with his chums on Goat Island. He hummed away at the work he loved, as

busy as a bee and as active as a squirrel. The new station was in the

backyard of his home and at some distance from the house, owing to Mrs.

Bell’s nervous fears that it would attract lightning.

The boy had tried to explain to her that a properly grounded apparatus

presents no such danger, but the good lady would not be convinced; so

Ding-dong had been compelled to set up his instruments in an old tool

shed, rather than in his own room as he had fondly hoped. He was now

rigging up a “wireless alarm-clock,” connecting it with his room so that

when anyone called him he could be summoned day or night.

He was stringing the wires for this when, from the road outside, came

the sharp “chug-chug-chug” of a motorcycle. It stopped at the back of

the shed and a cheery voice hailed:

“Hello, Ding!”

“He-he-hello, yourself, Pepper,” cried Ding-dong, as, hurrying out of

the shed at the summons, he came face to face with a lad of about his

own age whose head was thatched with a mop of brilliant red hair. He had

been nicknamed Red Pepper, shortened to Pepper, and his last name was

Rodman.

The newcomer wore motor-cycling togs and was hatless. He had dismounted

from a spick-and-span-looking two-cylindered machine which stood leaning

against the fence.

“Come on in,” invited Ding-dong cordially.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink of ice-water,” responded Pepper. “I’ve just

come back from a long spin in the country and I’m mighty thirsty, I can

assure you.”

“I’ll do bub-bub-better than ice-water,” promised Ding-dong hospitably;

“how about some lemonade?”

“Oh, yum-yum,” exclaimed young Pepper joyously; “lead me to it.”

“In a jiffy. This way,” said Ding-dong, leading the way into the house,

where he soon set before his guest a big glass pitcher full to the brim

of the cold and refreshing drink. Pepper did full justice to it, tossing

off three glasses.

“My goodness, Pup-Pup-Pepper, but you must be as hot as your

nu-nu-nickname,” exclaimed Ding-dong as he watched.

“Well, I was mighty dry, for a fact,” agreed Pepper, smacking his lips;

“I feel a lot better now. I’ve ridden all the way in from beyond

Powell’s Cove, and it’s a mighty dusty trip.”

“How’d you get that tut-tut-tear in your coat?” asked Ding-dong,

regarding a rent in Pepper’s neat khaki motor-cycling coat.

“Why, that happened out at Powell’s Cove,” was the response. “I meant to

tell you about it. I was dry as an old crust out there, and I saw a

small ranch house standing quite a way back from the road. It was a

lonesome-looking sort of a place, but I judged I could get a drink

there, so I chugged up to the door.

“It was open, and not seeing anyone about, I went in uninvited. From a

room in the back I heard voices, and so I walked in there, too. There

were two men sitting at a table. One of them was explaining something to

the other, and they had on the table what looked to me like a model of a

torpedo, or something of that sort.”

Ding-dong pricked up his ears.

“A mu-mu-model of a tut-tut——”

“Yes, of a torpedo. Then, too, there were a lot of plans.”

“Her-her-hold on!” cried Ding-dong, his words tripping all over each

other in his excitement. “Wer-wer-what did the men lul-lul-look like?”

Pepper looked rather astonished.

“How do you expect me to get on with my story if you keep butting in?”

he asked in an aggrieved tone of voice.

“I’ve a per-per-particular reason,” cried Ding-dong.

“Well, one had a big black beard, an ugly-looking customer, and the

other——”

But he got no further.

“Hokey!” yelled Ding-dong, while Pepper looked on in a rather alarmed

way, as if he thought his young companion had gone suddenly insane;

“it’s Minory for a bet! Minory, the fellow that swiped the wireless

torpedo!”

“What, the one you told me about? That invention of the Professor

What’s-his-name?”

“The same fellow,” cried Ding-dong. “What a shame the professor has gone

East! I’ll wire him at once.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait and see if you haven’t made a mistake?”

asked Pepper soberly. “You know it might not be the same at all. Other

men than Minory have black whiskers. My pop has, for instance.”

“That’s so,” said Ding-dong in a chastened voice. “But go ahead, Pep,

and tell me the rest.”

“All right, I’d have finished by this time if it hadn’t been for you,”

said Pepper. “Well, the minute I appeared, both men jumped up and glared

at me as if I’d been a mountain lion or something. The black-bearded

fellow made a run for me and shouted out to know what I wanted there. I

told them I was after a drink of water, but the fellow grabbed me by the

arm. I wrenched free, but I tore my coat in doing it. That was the rent

you saw.

“You can bet I lost no time in running for the door where I’d left my

motorcycle. The black-whiskered chap came after me, but the other one

held him back.

“‘Don’t grab him, Miles,’ I heard him say. ‘He’s nothing but a fool kid.

You’re so nervous I think you’d be suspicious of a cat’.”

“Mum-Mum-Miles!” shouted Ding-dong Bell. “That was Minory’s first name!

Oh, Eureka! We’ve got him! But I beg your pardon, Pep; how did you get

away?”

“Well, they told me that if I ever said anything about them, they’d find

me out and kill me,” went on Pepper, “and they looked fierce enough to

carry out their threat. One of them asked me if I’d seen anything on the

table, and of course I said ‘No.’ I guess if I’d admitted seeing that

model or anything, I’d have been there yet.”

“I don’t der-der-doubt that a ber-ber-bit,” agreed Ding-dong. “So after

that they let you go?”

“Yes, and told me never to come near there again, and not to do any

talking if I valued my life. Of course that was just a bluff, but I made

out to be scared to death by it.”

“The wisest thing to do,” agreed Ding-dong, and then he began to speak

earnestly and rapidly.

“Say, Pepper,” he said, losing as he often did in moments of stress his

impediment of speech, “are you game to help me out on a big enterprise?”

“What do you mean?” asked the other.

“Just this. Your motorcycle will carry two, won’t it?”

“Yes, I’ve got an extension seat behind. I take my brother out on it

once in a while.”

“Will you ride me out to that ranch house while I reconnoiter?”

“When?”

“To-night.”

“Gee whiz, Ding, it’s a pretty risky thing to do, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. I’m not going into the house or anything. I just want

to prowl around and see what I can find out. Then if everything is O. K.

and Minory’s there, I’ll notify the police and he can be arrested at

once.”

“That sounds reasonable,” admitted Pepper, “but say, Ding, don’t go

putting your head into a hornet’s nest. I’ve heard you’ve got a kind of

habit of doing that.”

“Who says so? I’m as careful as—as an old lady carrying eggs to market!”

“All right then, I’ll do it. I’ll be here at seven o’clock.”

“Good boy. I won’t be able to keep still till that time arrives.”

[Illustration: The boys ... fell in a heap down the steep steps.—_Page_

264.]

The Motor Rangers' Wireless Station · 第 26 / 29 章