AT THE WIRELESS STATION
"Why, it's this way," explained Larry. "We are vaudeville performers.
Tim's specialty is dancing, and I can tell you, because he's too modest to
say it himself, that he's a peach. Whenever he appears, he just knocks
them off their seats. He's a riot."
"Cut it out," protested Tim. "Leave that to the press agent."
"It's straight goods, just the same," declared Larry. "As for little me,
I've got a knack of twisting myself into knots, and then, too, I do a
little whistling. And because of that they call me on the posters and in
the theater programs the Canary Bird Snake. Kind of mixed up, isn't it?"
The radio boys were tremendously interested. The stage had for them the
touch of mystery and glamour that appeals to youth, and it was an unusual
treat for them to be talking on familiar terms with characters such as
they had only seen hitherto in the glare of the footlights.
"It must be great," said Bob, "to go all over the country as you do and
see all there is to be seen."
"Oh, like everything else, theatrical life has its ups and downs," replied
Larry. "It's all right when they hand you applause, but not such fun when
they throw eggs, especially if the eggs are old. We've never had that
experience yet though, and here's hoping that we never shall. There's lots
of hard work connected with it, and Tim and I have to work a good many
hours each day to keep ourselves in trim. Then, too, when you're playing
one night stands and have to get up before daylight to catch a train,
which in rube towns often turns out to be just a caboose attached to a
freight, it isn't any fun. And it's less fun when you happen to get snowed
in for a day or two, as has happened to us several times. But you get paid
for all that when your turn goes big and the audience is friendly and
gives you a good hand. Oh, it isn't all peaches and cream, but take it
altogether we have a pretty good time."
"That is, when we're working," put in Tim. "It isn't much fun though when
the ghost doesn't walk every Saturday night."
The boys looked a little puzzled and Larry undertook to enlighten them.
"Tim means when the pay check doesn't happen to come along," he said. "In
other words, when we're out of a job. You see we're both pretty young in
the profession and we aren't as well known as we hope to be later on. We
have to take what we can get on the small-time circuits, and we know that
if we make good there we'll get on the big-time circuit sooner or later.
Just now things are slack in the theatrical line as they always are in
summer. We've got our lines out for a job in the fall, but nothing
definite has come of it yet. So we thought we'd come down to the seashore
for a few weeks and get a little of the sea air into our lungs."
"But we didn't figure on getting as much sea water into our stomachs as we
did this afternoon," laughed Tim. "I can taste it yet. I don't think I'll
want any salt on my victuals for a month to come."
Just then Mrs. Layton appeared and announced that supper was ready, and
they all obeyed the call with alacrity, Bob's chums being included in the
invitation.
The meal was excellent, as Mrs. Layton's always were, and there was a
great deal of jollity as it progressed. Larry was very droll and kept the
boys in roars of laughter as he told of some of the funny incidents in his
experience, and Tim was not far behind him.
After the meal was over, nothing would do but that Larry and Tim should go
through some of their performances for the entertainment of the company.
This they did, and though they were handicapped by the absence of the
usual stage properties, Larry not having his stage suit with him and Tim
being without his clog dancing pumps, the spectators were delighted. Larry
tied himself into a mystifying tangle of knots, and his whistling was so
sweet and melodious that it roused his audience to the heights of
enthusiasm. And Tim's graceful dancing was a revelation of the
possibilities of the Terpsichorean art.
Then the radio boys took their turn and gave their visitors a radio
concert that was wonderful in its variety and beauty. The night happened
to be unusually free of the annoying static that is the bugbear of the
wireless, and every note of the music was as clear and sweet as though the
performers were only a few yards away. Tim and Larry listened as though
they were entranced, and when the concert was finished they were as
enthusiastic "fans" as the radio boys themselves.
"It's simply wonderful!" exclaimed Larry. "It's the first time I've ever
had the chance to 'listen in,' but you can bet it won't be the last."
"I'll tell you what," proposed Bob. "We're going over to the wireless
sending station to-morrow morning to see the operator there, Mr. Harvey.
He's the finest kind of a fellow, and he'll be glad to see you. Suppose
you and Tim come along with us."
"Surest thing you know!" ejaculated Larry, and Tim acquiesced with equal
enthusiasm.
They parted for the night with a feeling on both sides of warm liking and
esteem and a looking forward to a most enjoyable time on the following
day.
The next morning the radio boys set out shortly after breakfast, met Larry
and Tim at a point previously agreed upon, and together took their way
toward the wireless station.
Mr. Harvey was alone when they entered, and jumped to his feet with hands
extended in greeting and a face beaming with welcome.
"What good wind blew you over here?" he exclaimed, as he shook their hands
heartily.
"We came because we wanted to see you, and also because we wanted to show
our friends here something of the way the wireless works," said Bob.
He introduced Larry and Tim and Mr. Harvey welcomed them so warmly that
they felt at once at home.
"So these are the young men you boys pulled out of the water yesterday,"
he said. "It's mighty lucky for them that you happened to be around."
"I'll say it was," agreed Larry, and Tim nodded vigorously.
"How did you happen to hear of it?" asked Bob.
"Hear of it?" Brandon Harvey repeated. "All the beach is ringing with it.
All the hotels are buzzing with it. If you'll look at the morning papers
from the city, you'll find they all have a full account of it with
comments on the pluck and presence of mind of the fellows who did it. You
can't get away with that stuff without having it known, no matter how
modest you are."
"Making lots of fuss about a trifle," muttered Bob.
"Trifle," laughed Harvey. "Just the same kind of a trifle as that you
pulled off the night you saved the ship and captured the man who had
knocked me out. Have they told you about that?" he asked, turning to Larry
and Tim.
"Not a word," replied Larry.
"Never breathed it," declared Tim.
"Just like them," asserted Brandon Harvey, and then went on to tell them
of that dreadful night when the storm was raging; how they had found him
knocked senseless on the floor and the safe looted; how they had sent the
signals that had saved the ship from destruction; how they had pursued
the robber and captured him after a hand to hand tussle and recovered the
loot.
"Well, now about the wireless," interposed Bob, anxious to change the
subject. "These friends of ours are a new addition to the army of fans and
we want to put them next to some of the wonders of radio."
"It's a great army all right," laughed Harvey, "and we're always glad to
welcome new recruits. They're coming into the ranks by thousands every
day. Nobody can keep count of them, but they must run into the millions.
"And they're great in quality as well as quantity," he continued, warming
to his favorite subject. "The President of the United States has a radio
receiving set on his desk. There's one in the office of every one of the
ten Cabinet members. The Secretary of the Navy is sending out wireless
messages every day to vessels scattered in all parts of the globe. The
head of the army is keeping in touch by radio with every fort and garrison
and corps area in the United States. On last Arbor Day the Secretary of
Agriculture talked over the radio to more people than ever heard an
address in the history of the world. But there," he said, breaking off
with a laugh, "if I once get going on this line I'll never know when to
stop. So I'll say it all in one sentence--the radio is the most wonderful
invention ever conceived by the mind of man."
"You don't need to prove it to us," laughed Bob. "It's simply a miracle,
and we become more convinced of that every day. I'm mighty glad I was born
in this age of the world."
The boys crowded around Mr. Harvey as he explained to Larry and Tim in as
simple a way as possible the radio apparatus of the station.
"When I press this key," he said, "an electrical spark is sent up into the
antenna, the big wire that you see suspended from the mast over the
station, and is flung out into space."
"Travels pretty fast, doesn't it?" asked Larry, to whom all this was new.
"Rather," laughed Mr. Harvey. "It can go seven and a half times around the
world while you are striking a match."
"What!" exclaimed Larry incredulously. "Why, the circle of the earth is
about twenty-five thousand miles."
"Exactly," smiled Harvey. "And that spark travels at the rate of one
hundred and eighty-six thousand miles a second."
"You're sure you don't mean feet instead of miles?" suggested Tim
dubiously.
"It's miles all right," laughed Harvey. "Electricity travels at the same
rate as the light that comes to us from the sun and stars."
"What becomes of this electrical impulse after it gets started on that
quick trip?" asked Larry. "How does the fellow on the other end get what
you're trying to tell him."
"That fellow or that station has another antenna waiting to receive my
message," replied Harvey. "The signal keeps on going through the ether
until it strikes that other antenna. Then it climbs along it until it
reaches the receiving set and registers the same kind of dot or dash as
the one I made at this end. It's like the pitcher and catcher of a
baseball battery. One pitches the ball and the other receives the same
ball. At one instant it's in the pitcher's hand and the next it has
traveled the space between the two and is resting in the catcher's hand.
Sounds simple, doesn't it?"
"Sounds simple when you put it that way," laughed Larry. "But I have a
hunch that it isn't as simple as it sounds."
"Well, to tell the truth, it isn't quite as simple as that," confessed
Harvey. "There's a whole lot to learn about receiving and transmitting and
detectors and generators and condensers and vacuum tubes and all that. But
my point is that there's nothing of the really essential things that are
concerned in getting entertainment and instruction from radio that can't
be learned with a little application by any one of ordinary
intelligence."
"I wonder if I'm in that class," said Larry quizzically, and there was a
general laugh.
Another half hour was spent with great profit and interest in the sending
station and then the boys arose to go.
"How are you getting along with that regenerative set?" asked Mr. Harvey
of Bob.
"Pretty well, thank you," answered Bob. "It's the proper adjusting of the
tickler that's giving me the most trouble."
"Be careful not to increase it too far," warned Harvey. "If you do, the
vacuum tube oscillates and becomes a small generator of high frequency
current and in that way will interfere with other near-by stations. Then,
too, the speeches and music will be mushy instead of being clear. Drop in
again when you have time and we'll talk the matter over a little
further."
The visitors bade their host farewell and trooped out into the bright
sunshine. Larry and Tim were enthusiastic over the new world into which
they had been introduced.
"The most wonderful thing in the world," was their verdict.
They spent the rest of the morning on the beach, and before they parted,
Larry had secured a promise from the radio boys to come over to a dance
that was to be held the next night at the hotel where he and Tim were
stopping.
"Jolliest kind of fellows, aren't they?" said Joe.
"They sure are," agreed Herb. "I should think that free and easy life of
theirs would be just one round of enjoyment."
"I wouldn't exactly say that," remarked Bob. "Two or three times I have
noticed a look of worry in Larry's eyes as though something were weighing
on his mind."
This arrow, shot at a venture, was indeed correct, for Larry was far from
being as care free as the boys imagined. The fact that he was out of work
at present worried him, naturally. But this would have but little weight
with him had it not been for his sick mother at home. That mother had
worked for years in his behalf, following the death of his father, whose
affairs were so involved at his death that there was little money left to
support his wife and child. The mother had kept up a brave heart, however,
and done the best she could for herself and her idolized son. The strain
of being both bread-winner and mother had told, however, and now she was
in ill health. Larry, since he had entered upon a profession, had sent to
her all that he possibly could in order to maintain her in comfort, but
just now the source of supply had stopped and there was no knowing at
what time it would be resumed. He knew that his mother had very little
money on hand at the time, and her condition of health made Larry her only
resource.
The radio boys kept their engagement, and the dance was a jolly affair at
which they enjoyed themselves thoroughly. The only drawback to a perfect
evening was the fact that Buck Looker and Carl Lutz were there also, but
this did not bother them much in the early part of the evening.
The last dance had just been concluded and the ardent dancers were
clamoring for one more encore, when a disturbance rose at one end of the
room that attracted general attention. The radio boys hurried to the spot
in question to find Buck and Lutz talking excitedly while Larry and Tim
were standing near them with flushed and indignant faces. The manager of
the hotel and a house detective were also in the group.
"I tell you that those are the fellows who did it," Buck was vociferating,
while he pointed to Larry and Tim. "They were the ones closest to me when
I missed my watch and stickpin, and I had just looked at my watch the
minute before. If you search them you'll find the goods on them. My friend
here lost his at the same time."
"It's false!" cried Larry.
"If there weren't ladies here, I'd cram the story down your throat!"
exclaimed Tim, his eyes blazing.
"That's a serious charge you're making, young man," said the manager to
Buck.
"They've got them," said Buck sullenly. "Search them and you'll find I'm
right."
"See here," cried Larry. "If this fellow were the only one concerned I
wouldn't condescend to satisfy him. But I have some friends here,"
indicating the radio boys, "and for their sakes I'm going to establish my
innocence beyond any doubt. Come right in to one of the private rooms here
and search me thoroughly. As for this fellow," glaring at Buck, "I'll
settle with him at another time."
The party adjourned to a room, and a thorough search resulted in showing
that none of the missing articles was on Larry or Tim.
"Now I'll settle with you," cried Larry, making a rush at Buck. But he was
restrained by the house detective who held him while Buck and his crony
slunk away.
The radio boys gathered around their new friends and condoled with them
over the unfounded accusation.
"He'll pay me for that yet," declared Larry, who had been wrought up to a
high pitch of excitement.
"Here's hoping you'll get a hack at him," said Joe. "Did you notice that
there wasn't a word of apology for having made a false charge against
you?"
"Did you ever know him to do a decent thing?" asked Bob scornfully.
"That's Buck Looker to a dot."
The next morning Bob was over at Joe's bungalow when Mr. and Mrs. Rockwell
called with Mary to thank the Atwoods for the care they had given Mary
when she was brought from the water, and also to express their gratitude
to the boys, whose quickness and resource had saved her life.
Mary, a pretty girl, had entirely recovered, and was profuse in her thanks
to Bob and Joe, which were echoed by her parents, who laid so much stress
upon their bravery that the boys blushed to the ears.
"You are making altogether too much of it," Bob protested, and Joe
agreed.
"It is impossible to do that," said Mr. Rockwell, and Mrs. Rockwell nodded
her head vigorously.
"The only thing I am sorry about," said Bob, "is that we have not been
able to catch the fellows in the motor boat who ran the rowboat down. They
ought to be sent to jail on the double quick."
"It turns out," said Mr. Rockwell, "that they were not only heartless
brutes, but thieves as well. We found out yesterday that the boat had been
stolen from Mr. Wentworth, who is one of the guests at the hotel where we
are stopping. They left an old rowboat in its place. Mr. Wentworth has put
the police on the track of the thieves, but as yet nothing has been heard
of them. I am afraid they have made good their escape."
"I only hope," declared Bob, "that I may live long enough to get my hands
on the throat of one or both of them."
"I'd like that privilege," returned Mr. Rockwell warmly, "but I am afraid
the chances are slim. They may be hundreds of miles away by this time."
"Well," said Joe, "the arm of the law is long and it may reach them yet."
"Here's hoping," said Bob.