"Mr. Barnes, I believe?"
"Yes, I am Tom Barnes," said the young wireless operator of station Z.
Tom was in the old windmill tower, and had been tidying up generally. He
had just come from dinner, and was alone in the operating room.
He had checked himself in the middle of a whistling tune to survey a
head and then the shoulders and body of a stranger, coming up through
the trap door.
The intruder was a keen-eyed, sharp-featured man of about thirty, very
neatly dressed, and very erect and soldierly in his general appearance.
He nodded briskly to Tom, crossed the room, and, uninvited, sank into
the nearest chair.
"Glad I found you," he said, and then took a close survey of Tom and of
the furnishings of the room. "Heard about you at the town, and being
somewhat interested in these new-fangled wireless ideas, I thought you
wouldn't mind a casual visitor."
"No, indeed," answered Tom readily. "I am only too glad to meet anybody
who is interested as to our little station here."
"It's quite a plant," declared the stranger. "Tell me something about
it, will you?"
An enthusiastic boy like Tom was only too ready to enter into a general
description of the parts and utilities of the apparatus. The stranger
listened intently, approbatively too, it seemed to Tom. He followed the
indication of Tom's finger as it pointed out this and that attachment of
the general operating device; and arose and looked closer as Tom
explained in detail and very clearly some intricate features of the
mechanism.
"That's pretty interesting," voiced the man at length, "and you seem to
know your business."
"Oh, I'm only a novice, a mere amateur," insisted Tom modestly.
"What's that now?" inquired the visitor, reaching a careless hand very
near to the coherer.
"Look out!" shouted Tom warningly.
"What's the trouble?" calmly interrogated the man.
"Danger. You'll get a hard shock if you touch that."
"I'll be careful," pledged the stranger, and to Tom's amazement with a
deft expert touch he dislodged the cap of one of the glass tubes. "I
say, my friend," he added, gazing down into the cup critically, "you'd
get much better action if you'd mix in some fine brass filings here. The
old stuff is pretty well corroded."
"I had noticed that," said Tom, "and have sent to the city for new
material."
"There's another point worth your attention," resumed the man, pointing
up at the secondary circuit. "A double coil to that condenser would
strengthen your current."
Tom stared at the speaker in a vague way. He was a good deal surprised
and also suspicious at the facility with which this avowed seeker for
information exhibited a profound knowledge of the very subject under
discussion.
"You seem to know something about it," observed Tom.
The man did not reply. He busied himself with a fixed and calculating
glance through the roof skylight up at the metal nets and spirals.
"Very good," he said, half aloud, "and kept in very fair order, too."
"I'm glad to hear you say it, Mr ----?"
"I am expecting a friend who will introduce us," said the stranger, with
a peculiar smile. "Ah, there he is now."
He moved to the window, and in quite a friendly fashion waved his hand
to an occupant of an automobile that had just driven up from the beach
road.
Tom at once recognized it as the Morgan machine. Its owner alighted, and
a minute later came up the ladder.
"Glad to see you, Barnes," he hailed cheerily, shaking hands with the
young wireless operator. "You didn't wait for me at the village as
agreed, Mr. Mason," he added, addressing Tom's guest.
"I fancied I had better come on ahead and get an unprejudiced view of
the proposition," observed Mr. Mason.
"Strike you all right?" intimated the magnate pleasantly.
"Capital," answered the stranger with emphasis.
"That's good. Barnes, this is Mr. Mason, inspector for the International
Wireless Company, of New York."
"Oh," said Tom, a little dubiously and a trifle flustered.
"I knew how you were interested in this wireless business, Barnes,"
resumed Mr. Morgan, "and I spoke to my friend here of the independent
station you were running."
"Which I wish to take into the service, you included," broke in Mr.
Mason in a clear, straightforward way. "I hear of some good work you
have done here. The location can be made an important one, and, if you
are ready for it, I'll talk business with you."
"There is not much doubt about the utility of the station here,"
observed Mr. Morgan. "Barnes saved me half my fortune through an
intercepted wireless. He has my unqualified recommendation and support,
Mr. Mason."
"So you told me," returned the wireless professional in a brusque,
business-like way. "Practically you own the apparatus here, Mr. Barnes?"
he questioned.
"Yes, sir," announced Tom.
"Is there any lease on the site?"
"You mean the old tower here?"
"Yes."
"No, sir. It belongs to the house that burned down about a year ago, and
is entirely out of commission as a windmill."
"I see."
"The man who owns the place gave Mr. Edson full permission to use the
old wreck free of charge as long as he liked."
"The company would like a formal lease for two years. Do you think you
could arrange that?"
"Oh, yes, I am sure of it," replied Tom.
"Very well. Offer him a trifle--say fifty dollars for the term. Now
then, as to your outfit here. Would you be willing to turn over your
right and interest here to the company at a fair price, in consideration
of a contract for two years establishing you here as their accredited
operator?"
Tom's face changed to all colors. His eye sparkled.
"Mr. Mason," he said frankly, "you take my breath away!"
The wireless professional smiled indulgently. Mr. Morgan rested a
friendly, encouraging hand on Tom's shoulder.
"The equipment here," continued Mr. Mason, making a swift mental
calculation, "is not worth a great deal. The installation, however, cost
something. I shall recommend the company to offer you five hundred
dollars for the outfit."
Tom gasped now. Business was business, and he realized that the
keen-faced man of affairs who was talking to him was too shrewd to throw
anything away or buy a bad bargain. For all that, he was fairly stunned
at the good fortune that had come to him.
"I will be glad to do as you suggest," he said, choked up from varied
emotions.
"Good!" cried Mr. Mason. "The papers will be sent to you soon as I can
report to headquarters. In the meantime, you can negotiate for the lease
we spoke about I will have a contract forwarded to you, accompanying
full instructions as to your duties as our representative."
"What will you pay Barnes?" inquired Mr. Morgan, a practical business
man on all occasions.
"Sixty dollars a month," was the reply.
"Don't fall off your chair, Barnes!" laughed Mr. Morgan, "You're going
to reach bigger things than that in the wireless line, I predict."
"There was one thing," said Tom a little anxiously; "I have a friend, a
chum, who knows almost as much as I do about the business."
Mr. Mason took out his memorandum book.
"What is his name?" he inquired.
"Ben Dixon."
"Very good. We'll start him with a commission as substitute and relief
man. I intended to send one of our men for the shift, but if you think
this young Dixon can do the work, I will recommend him."
"I am sure of it," declared Tom.
"Good-bye, Barnes," said Mr. Morgan, as he and his companion prepared to
leave the tower. "I have a little something I wish to add to your bank
account when you come up to the house again."
"Please don't mention such a thing, Mr. Morgan," pleaded Tom.
"And, remember, call on me as a ready friend whenever I can help you in
any way," went on the gentleman; and then he and Mr. Mason went away.
"My!" was all Tom could say when he returned to the tower, and flung
himself into a chair in a dazed, overwhelmed way. "My! it all seems like
a dream!"