A yell of derisive delight went up from the smaller youths of the crowd
as Mart Walters went toppling into the water. Mart did not have a real
friend in Rockley Cove, and the little fellows Welcomed an opportunity
for showing their dislike.
Tom, however, promptly on his feet was making for the spot where Mart
was puffing and splashing about, when two of his friends in bathing
attire anticipated his helpful action, reached Mart, and led him,
blinded and dripping, onto dry land.
Mart was a sight. All the starch was taken out of him, and out of his
clothes. He did not linger to renew the conflict. He only shook his fist
at Tom with the half Whimpered words:
"I'll fix you, Tom Barnes, see if I don't! This will be a sorry day for
you."
"Who started it?" demanded Tom bluntly.
"I'll get even with you for this treatment," threatened Mart direfully,
sneaking off.
"You've made an enemy for life of that fellow, Tom," declared Ben.
"Well, he never was very friendly towards me," responded Tom. "Where's
the wire? I've got it," and he picked it up from the ground where it had
dropped. "I'm sorry this thing occurred, but he brought it on himself.
Come on, Ben."
"You're going to stay and have some fun, aren't you, Tom?" inquired one
of the swimmers.
"Can't, boys--that is, just now. I've got something to attend to. See
you again."
Tom and Ben had not proceeded fifty feet, however, when a hurried call
halted them. Tom's younger brother came running towards them.
"Oh, Tom!" he hailed breathlessly, "I've run all the way from the house.
I've got a message for you."
"What is it, Ted?"
"Mr. Edson was passing the house and told me to find you and ask you to
come down to the tower as soon as you could."
"All right, Ted," replied Tom. "I wonder what's up?"
"Why?" questioned Ben.
"I saw Mr. Edson early this morning down at the Point, and thought I'd
got him to talk himself out for a week to come asking him so many
questions about the wireless."
"Are you going to drop rigging out your plant at the old oak till you
see him?"
"We'll have to. It may be something important Mr. Edson wants to see me
about. You come too, Ben."
"Had I better?"
"You want to, don't you?"
"Well, I guess!" replied Ben with undisguised fervor. "I've envied the
way he's posting you in this wireless ever since I first saw his
outfit."
The boys pursued their way to Sandy Point, passing the old blasted oak.
Here Tom took pains to stow the coil of wire safely in a tree. Resuming
their walk they neared Sandy Point twenty minutes later.
The Point was a high but level stretch of shore with one or two small
houses in its vicinity. It was really a part of Rockley Cove, but the
center of the village was half a mile inland.
A high metal framework designated the Point, and could be seen from
quite a distance. This, however, was no recent construction nor a beacon
point, nor originally erected for its present use as a wireless station.
It had served as a windmill for a farmer who once operated an
eighty-acre tract of land. One night his house and barns burned down.
For years the spot was abandoned. Recently, however, the Mr. Edson Tom
had alluded to had come to Rockley Cove and established "Station Z" at
the old windmill.
He had built a room or tower as he called it midway up the windmill
structure. This was reached through a trap door by a fixed iron ladder.
The height and open construction of the windmill enabled the setting of
upper wireless paraphernalia in a fine way, and the whole layout was
found especially serviceable in carrying out Mr. Edson's ideas.
The operator was at the window of the little operating room he had
built, and waved a cheery welcome to his two young friends. Tom and Ben
were up the ladder speedily and through the trap door.
"Did you send for me, Mr. Edson?" inquired Tom.
"Yes, Tom," replied the operator, "and I'm glad you came so promptly.
I've got to leave Rockley Cove on short notice."
"Oh, Mr. Edson, I am very sorry for that!" declared Tom.
"I regret it too, especially so far as you are concerned," admitted Mr.
Edson.
"I was getting on finely," said Tom in a disappointed tone.
"No reason why you shouldn't continue," declared the operator
encouragingly. "You have been strictly business all along, Tom. I want
to commend you for it, and I have sent for you to make you a business
proposition."
"A proposition?" repeated Tom wonderingly.
"Yes. You have got so that there is very little about the outfit here
that you do not understand. The transmitting and receiving end of it is
old history to you. In fact I am going to leave you here in entire
charge of the station."
"Oh, Mr. Edson!" exclaimed Tom, "I am afraid you rate me too highly."
"Not at all. You have got sense, patience, and you want to learn. As you
know, my starting the station here was a private enterprise, but it was
no idle fad. I expected to work something practicable and profitable out
of it. You can carry on the work."
"Why are you giving it up, sir, if I may ask?"
"I received a letter only an hour since, with an unexpected offer of a
very fine position with one of the operating wireless companies in
Canada. They expect me at a conference in New York City Friday, and I do
not doubt that I shall close an engagement with them. As I have told
you, I have very little capital. In fact, about all my surplus has been
invested in the station here."
Ben was looking around the place with his usual devouring glance. Tom
felt that some important disclosure was about to be made and was duly
impressed.
"There is a good chance for a live young fellow in a business that can
send a message hundreds of miles in a few seconds," continued Mr. Edson.
"The business is now only in its infancy, and those who get in first
have the best chance. The only hope here of the international circuit is
to make a killing."
"What do you mean by a killing, Mr. Edson?" inquired the big-eyed,
interested Ben.
"Catching a stray message and making a home shot with it. The fellow who
saved an ocean liner last week by sending help quick, just when needed,
got more pay in one hour than many people earn in a lifetime. Now then,
Tom, as to my proposition."
"Yes, sir," nodded Tom, eagerly.
"I want you to buy me out."
"To buy you out?" repeated Tom slowly and in a puzzled way.
"That's it."
"You mean with money?" put in the ever-attentive Ben.
"It's got to be money, I am obliged to say," replied Mr. Edson. "I shall
need all the ready cash I can get hold of in taking my new position, for
I have a lot of debts to clean up. Between you and me, Tom, I can sell
the outfit here to certain people, but it would throw you out. Of
course, I don't expect you, a boy to have any great amount of money to
invest, but I had an idea that some of your relatives or friends might
help you."
Tom was silent, deeply thoughtful for a minute or two. His eyes wandered
wistfully over the apparatus that so fascinated him. Then, very
timorously, he asked:
"How much would it take, Mr. Edson?"
"One hundred dollars to you, Tom," said Mr. Edson.
Ben squirmed. Tom's voice was quite tremulous as he inquired:
"How soon would you have to have the money?"
"By next Tuesday."
"Will you give me till then to--to try?" asked Tom.
"Surely. I hope you can make it, Tom. I like you very much. You are the
right sort, and I think you should be encouraged in your interest in the
wireless. I'll show you just what the equipment here is."
Ben voted the hour that followed the most interesting of his life. For
the first time in his career he began to get a faint conception of spark
lengths, spark voltage, condensers, circuits, vibrators, grounds,
concentric radiations, wire cores and armatures. He had been dabbling
for over a week with both Morse and the Continental alphabets, and when
Tom mentioned the possibility of establishing a sub-station at the Dixon
home instead of at the old blasted oak, Mr. Edson was quite encouraging,
and offered to contribute some of the equipment necessary to carry out
the idea.
The expert operator engrossed the attention of the boys. It was a ramble
in a field of rare delight as they passed from one part of the wireless
mechanism to another.
"Now then, sit down, boys, for a few minutes," said Mr. Edson at length.
"I don't want you to buy a pig in a poke. There are a couple of
attachments that go with the station, and you should know about them."
"Attachments?" repeated Ben.
"What are they, Mr. Edson?" inquired Tom with curiosity.
"Spooks," was the ominous reply.