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."