THRASHING A BULLY
After that the boys saw a good deal of Edna and Ruth Salper. The
latter were thoroughly good sports and entered into the fun of the
moment with such enthusiasm that the radio boys declared they were
lots more fun than a good many of the fellows they knew.
They went nutting together, tramped through the woods, read together
the latest discoveries in the radio field, until the girls became
almost as great enthusiasts as the boys.
The boys were often asked to visit the Salper home, but it was seldom
that they took advantage of these invitations.
"It would be pleasant enough," Herb declared, "if only grouchy Mr.
Salper were not always around to put a damper on the sport."
As a matter of fact, on the rare occasions when they happened to meet,
Mr. Salper hardly uttered a word, but it was this very silence of his
that made the boys uneasy.
"I feel sometimes," Jimmy remarked, "as if I'd like to put a tack on
his chair, just to see if he'd say 'ouch' when it stuck into him."
"He'd probably say a sight worse than that," Bob replied, with a
laugh,
However, they were having too good a time to allow Mr. Salper and his
grouches to interfere much with them.
They became familiar figures at the sending and receiving station, and
the operator always received them cordially. They often had long and
interesting discussions which were not only delightful to the boys but
extremely helpful as well.
"It seems," said Jimmy, with a grin, "as if all the radio inventors
were running a race with each other to see who can get the greatest
number of inventions on the market in the shortest space of time."
"You said something that time, boy," the operator replied ruefully.
"The smart fellows are keeping us dubs on the jump trying to catch up
with them. Not that I intend to put you in the 'dub' class with
myself," he added, with a grin.
"I only wish we knew half as much about the game as you do," Bob
returned heartily. "I think we'd be mighty well satisfied."
One day when the radio boys had left Edna and Ruth Salper and were
tramping through the woods alone, they spoke of the operator
admiringly.
"He sure does know a lot about radio," said Joe. "He must stay up all
night studying."
"Guess that's what's the matter with him," remarked Bob, soberly. "He
spends too much of his time indoors, boning. He should get out in the
open more."
"Looks as if a little fresh air might tone him up some," Herb
admitted. "He looks as if a breath of air might blow him away."
"If I looked as thin as he does, I'd go see a doctor," said Jimmy
emphatically.
It was a fact that the operator at the station, while looking far from
strong when the boys had first seen him, had grown thinner and thinner
and paler and paler until now he seemed to be positively going into a
decline.
Because they had a sincere regard for Bert Thompson, the boys had
tried to lure him out into the open, but he had been proof against all
their blandishments. And after a while the boys had given up trying.
"If he wants to kill himself," Bob had grumbled, "I suppose we'll have
to let him have his own way about it."
And now at this particular time when the boys were at peace with the
world, something suddenly happened that gave them a rude jolt.
Talking happily of improvements they expected to apply to their new
radio outfit, they came suddenly upon--Buck Looker and his crowd.
To say they were surprised would not have half expressed it. They were
dumbfounded and mad--clear through. So here were these rascals,
turning up as they always did, just in time to spoil the fun.
That Buck and his cronies had been talking about them was evident from
the fact that at the appearance of the radio boys they stopped short
in what they were saying and looked sullenly abashed. And from their
confusion Bob guessed that the meeting was as much a surprise to the
"gang" as it was to themselves.
The boys would have gone on without speaking, hoping to avoid trouble
if it was possible, but Buck hailed them boisterously.
"Say, what are you guys doing here?" he asked, sneeringly, thrusting
himself almost directly in front of Bob, so that the latter would be
forced to step aside in order to pass him.
"That's what I'd like to ask you," returned Bob, feeling himself grow
hot all over. "Get out of my way, Buck. You're cramping the scenery."
"Aw, what's your awful rush?" asked Buck, refusing to move, while Carl
Lutz and Terry Mooney sidled over to the bully, keeping a wary eye on
Bob's right fist, nevertheless.
"Say, get out of here, Buck Looker, and get quick!" It was Joe who
spoke this time, and any one not as stupid as Buck Looker would have
known it was time to do as he was told.
But because of the fire that had burned to the ground his father's
disreputable cottage in the woods and which he and his followers had
blamed upon the radio boys, Buck Looker thought himself safe in
taunting the latter as much as he wished. He assumed that they would
not dare resent anything he said or did, for fear he would make public
the matter of the fire and accuse them openly.
It was a chance of a lifetime for Buck--or so he thought--and he was
determined not to over-look it. So his manner became more insulting
than ever and his face took on a wider grin as his glance shifted from
Bob to Joe.
"So you're in a hurry, too, are you?" he sneered. "Going to set some
more houses on fire, eh?"
He turned to his cronies with a grin and they piped up together as if
by a prearranged signal:
"Firebrands!"
This undeserved insult was more than the radio boys could stand, and
all stepped forward with clenched fists.
"You take that back, Buck Looker!" cried Joe, with flashing eyes.
"Take back nothing!" answered the bully.
"Yes, you will!" broke in Bob, and caught Buck by the arm.
At once the bully aimed a savage blow at Bob's head. But the latter
ducked, and an instant later his clenched fist landed upon Buck's chin
with such weight that the bully was sent over backward into the snow.
At the instant when Buck made his attack on Bob, Terry Mooney tried to
hit Joe with a stick he carried. Joe promptly caught hold of the
stick, and, putting out his foot, sent Terry backward into a
snowdrift. Seeing this, Carl Lutz started to run away, but both Herb
and Jimmy went after him and knocked him flat.
"You let me alone! I didn't do anything!" blubbered Carl, who was a
thorough coward.
"You can't call me a firebrand," answered Herb, and while fat Jimmy
sat on the luckless Carl, Herb rammed some snow into his ear and down
his neck.
While this was going on both Buck and Terry had scrambled to their
feet, and then began a fierce fight between that pair and Bob and Joe.
Blows were freely exchanged, but soon the radio boys had the better of
it, and when Terry's lip was bleeding and swelling rapidly, and Buck
had received a crack in the left eye and it was also swelling, all
three of the cronies were only too glad to back away.
"Have you had enough?" demanded Bob, pantingly.
"If you haven't, we'll give you some more," added Joe.
"You just wait! We'll get square with you some other time," muttered
Buck. And thereupon he and his cronies lost no time in sneaking away
into the woods.
"Of all the mean fellows that ever lived!" cried Herb.
"I guess they'll leave us alone--for a while, anyway," came from Joe,
as he felt of his shoulder where he had received a blow.
"I wonder what those fellows are doing around here, anyway," said Bob
thoughtfully. "Do you suppose they're putting up at the Mountain Rest
Hotel, too?"
"More than likely," answered Joe, gloomily. "Perhaps they've been
driven out of Clintonia, too, on account of the epidemic. I heard
quite a number of the other young folks were getting out. The whole
town is pretty well scared."
"They are sure trying their best to make trouble for us," added Jimmy.
"That fire in the woods was just nuts for them," said Bob, with a
frown. "They've been trying for a long time to get something on us,
and now they think they've got it. They think we're afraid to beat 'em
up now as they deserve, for fear they'll tell everybody we set that
old shack on fire."
"It was a funny thing," remarked Joe, musingly, "how that fire
started, anyway."
"Oh, what's the use of worrying?" added Herb, carelessly. "I reckon
the memory of that licking will keep Buck quiet for a while. Say, that
was a fine piece of work you did, Bob! The memory lingers."
Bob grinned.
"How about yourselves?" he asked, adding, with a gleam in his eyes: "I
didn't notice Terry Mooney and Carl Lutz looking very happy!"