RADIO'S LONG ARM
"Well, fellows," said Bob, when they were together that evening, according
to agreement, "this is the last evening we'll have without lessons for
some time to come, so we'd better make the most of it."
"Don't mention lessons, Bob," implored Jimmy. "Oh, my, how I hate 'em!"
and he groaned dismally.
"You'll soon be doing them, old timer, whether you like them or not," said
Joe. "It's going to be a tough term for me, too. I'll be taking up
geometry this term, and they say that's no cinch."
"Nothing's a cinch for me, worse luck," said Jimmy, dolefully. "Everything
I do seems to be hard work for me."
"That's tough luck, too," said Bob, gravely, "because you hate work so
much, Doughnuts."
"There isn't anybody in the world hates it more," confessed Jimmy,
shamelessly. "But that's all the good it ever does me. Why wasn't I born
rich instead of good looking?"
"Give it up," said Bob. "You'll have to ask me easier ones than that,
Jimmy, if you expect to get an answer. But as far as I can see, people
that are rich don't seem to be especially happy, anyway. Look at old
Abubus Boggs. He's probably the richest man in Clintonia, but nobody ever
accused him of being happy."
"I should say not!" exclaimed Joe. "He goes around looking as though he
had just bitten into an especially sour lemon. Everybody hates him, and I
don't suppose that makes any one happy."
"Maybe that does make old Abubus happy, there's no telling," said Jimmy,
reflectively. "But I know I wouldn't change places for all his money."
"There you are!" exclaimed Bob, triumphantly. "You don't realize how well
off you are, Doughnuts."
"Maybe not," conceded Jimmy. "School isn't so bad after you once get
started, but I hate to think of settling down to the old grind after that
wonderful summer at Ocean Point."
"But we'll have the radio just the same," Joe pointed out. "That's one of
the good things about it; you can take it with you wherever you go."
"Yes, I was reading an article in one of the radio magazines a little
while ago about that," said Bob. "The article was written by a trapper in
the northern part of Canada. He told how he had set up his outfit in the
center of a howling wilderness and had received all the latest news of the
world in his shack, not to mention music of every kind. He said that the
natives and Indians thought it must be magic, and were looking all over
the shack for the spirit that they supposed must be talking into the
headphones. That trapper was certainly a radio fan, if there ever was one,
and he wrote a mighty interesting letter, too."
"I should think it would be interesting," said Herb. "I'd like to read it,
if you still have it around."
Bob rummaged around in a big pile of radio magazines and finally found
what he was looking for. The boys read every word of the letter, and were
more than ever impressed by the wonderful possibilities of radiophony.
No longer would it be necessary for an exploring expedition to be lost
sight of for months, or even years. Wedged in the Arctic ice floes, or
contending with fever and savage animals in the depths of some tropical
jungle, the explorers could keep in touch with the civilized world as
easily as though bound on a week end fishing trip. The aeroplane soaring
in the clouds far above the earth, or the submarine under the earth's
waters, could be informed and guided by it. Certainly of all the wonders
of modern times, this was the most marvelous and far-reaching.
Something of all this passed through the boys' minds as they sat in
ruminative silence, thinking of the lonely man in the wilderness with his
precious wireless.
"I suppose we should feel pretty lucky to be around just at this stage of
the earth's history," said Bob, thoughtfully. "We're living in an age of
wonders, and I suppose we're so used to them that most of the time we
don't realize how wonderful they really are."
"That's true enough, all right," agreed Joe. "When you step into an
automobile these days, you don't stop to think that a few years ago the
fastest way to travel was behind old Dobbin. The old world is stepping
ahead pretty lively these days, and no mistake."
"It can't step too fast to suit me," said Herb. "Speed is what I like to
see, every time."
"Oh, I don't know," said Jimmy, lazily. "Why not take things a little
easier. People had just as much fun out of life when they weren't in such
a rush about everything. I take things easy and get fat on it, while Herb
is always rushing around, and it wears him down until he has the same
general appearance as a five and ten cent store clothespin."
"I wouldn't want to look like a three and nine cent store pin-cushion,
anyway," said Herb, indignantly. "That's about your style of beauty,
Doughnuts."
"Well, I never expect to take any prizes in a beauty show, so that doesn't
make me mad," said Jimmy, calmly.
"If you weren't so blamed fat, I'd have half a mind to throw you out the
window, you old faker," said Herb, threateningly.
"Couldn't do it," said Jimmy, briefly. "In the first place, I'm too heavy;
and in the second place, Bob wouldn't let you."
"I'll bet Bob would be glad to see you thrown out. How about it, Bob?" and
Herb appealed to his friend.
"I wouldn't want you to throw him out of either of these windows,"
answered Bob, seriously. "There are valuable plants on the lawn below, and
I'd hate to see them damaged. But if you want to take him out and drop him
from the hall window, I'm sure nobody will have any objections."
"Oh, I can't be bothered carrying him that far," said Herb. "Guess I might
as well let him live a while longer, after all."
"That's very nice of you," said Jimmy, sarcastically. "But you know you
couldn't do it, anyway. All I'd have to do would be to fall on you, Herb,
and it would be curtains for little Herbert."
"I think they're both afraid of each other, Joe," said Bob, turning to his
friend. "What's your opinion?"
"Looks that way to me, too. They remind me of a couple of cats that stand
and yell at each other for an hour, and then walk off without mixing it
after all."
"Well, we're not going to go to mauling each other just to amuse you two
Indians, that's certain," said Herb. "Let's shake hands and show the world
we're friends, Jimmy."
"Righto!" agreed his good-natured friend, and they laughingly shook
hands.
"We'd better save our scrapping for Buck Looker and his friends," said
Bob. "I suppose they'll be up to some kind of mischief as soon as we get
back to school again. They seem never to learn by experience."
"They're too foolish and conceited to learn much," observed Joe. "They
probably think they know all there is to know already."
"In spite of that, we may be able to teach them a trick or two," said
Herb. "But whether you fellows know it or not, it's getting pretty late,
so I think I'll go and hit the hay. Who's coming my way?"
"I suppose we might as well all beat it," returned Joe, rising. "If we
don't see each other to-morrow, I suppose we'll all meet at the dear old
high school on Monday morning. Three silent cheers, fellows."
"Consider them given," laughed Bob. "But we'll have plenty of fun, too, so
why mind a little hard work?"
After hunting in odd corners for their caps, the boys finally found them
all and departed gayly on their way, only slightly depressed by the
imminence of the fall term at high school.