GOOD RIDDANCE
Buck did not turn up at school on the following day and the Radio
Boys thought that they could guess the reason why.
“Don’t think his beauty was improved any by the handling he got
yesterday,” laughed Jimmy. “Of course he might use the old gag that
he had run against a door in the dark, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t
go.”
“A door would hardly be likely to do to him what Bob did,” rejoined
Joe with a grin.
“Perhaps he’s down at the river looking for that shoe of his,”
chuckled Herb.
Bob himself had said nothing to the rest of his schoolmates about
the fight that he had had with Buck. It was enough that he had given
the latter the punishment he deserved. He had no liking for the
Indian practice of scalping the dead.
Lutz and Mooney were on hand as usual, but they gave the Radio Boys
a wide berth, contenting themselves with an occasional malignant
glance when chance brought them in their vicinity. But later in the
day Jimmy heard Lutz telling one of the schoolboys who had asked him
about Buck that the latter had decided to take a little vacation and
was going up into the woods for a while. The exact location of the
woods was not specified, but the fact that he had gone away at all
was so gratifying to Jimmy that he lost no time in carrying the
welcome news to his companions.
Joe at first was inclined to be incredulous.
“Too good to be true,” he declared. “To have Buck licked one day and
go away the next! Luck doesn’t come that way, like bananas—in
bunches.”
“‘Though lost to sight to memory dear,’” quoted Herb.
“It will be a mighty good thing for Clintonia if he goes away and
stays away,” affirmed Bob. “He’s been the worst element in the
town—a pest that everybody dislikes except a few of his own kind.
There doesn’t seem to be a single decent streak in his whole
make-up.”
“It would be a good thing if he had taken Lutz and Mooney along with
him,” remarked Jimmy.
“Oh, they don’t count,” replied Bob. “They’ll wriggle around as a
snake does when its head is cut off, but that’s about all. It was
Buck who thought up the low-down tricks and then relied on them to
help him carry them out.”
“Well,” said Joe, “if he’s really gone we’ll mark this day with a
white stone. And let’s hope that he’ll be gone for a good long
while.”
And this was the general verdict of the school, especially of the
younger boys whose lives Buck had made a torment by his bullying.
Nearly two weeks passed by when Mr. Layton, who had by this time
fully recovered, received a letter from Mr. Bentley, stating that he
would be in town the next day. Bob lost no time in conveying the
information to the rest of the Radio Boys, who were quite as
delighted as he was himself. Mr. Bentley’s stay was to be brief, as
he was traveling on Government business, but he would stop over
night anyway, and especially mentioned that he hoped to see all the
Radio Boys, of whom he retained so many pleasant memories from his
previous visit.
“Will we be there?” replied Joe to Bob’s question. “I’d like to see
anything that would keep me away. It isn’t every day a fellow gets a
chance to talk with a live wire like him.”
The rest of his friends were just as emphatic, and were at Bob’s
house the following night even a little before the time appointed.
There, too, was Payne Bentley, tall and bronzed and athletic,
bringing with him the breezy suggestion of a man whose life is spent
largely in the open.
He greeted the boys with the heartiness that was characteristic of
him, and they on their part showed their whole-souled pleasure in
meeting him again.
“I’ve got a little surprise for you, fellows,” said Bob. “Here it
is,” and he pushed shut a door, revealing Mr. Frank Brandon, who had
been standing behind it, and who now advanced with a smile to shake
hands with the surprised and delighted boys.
“Wasn’t it you, Joe, who said a little while ago that good luck
didn’t come, like bananas, in bunches?” asked Bob. “Well, here’s a
case that proves you’re wrong.”
“I surely was,” laughed Joe. “It was a good wind that blew them both
here at the same time.”
“You see, Frank and I are old friends,” explained Mr. Bentley, as
they all took chairs and settled down for a cosy chat. “We’re both
in the Government service, although along somewhat different lines,
and every once in a while we run across each other. I met him on the
train as I was coming here and persuaded him to drop off with me and
stay over night. And I didn’t have to persuade him very much when I
told him whom I was going to see, for he thinks you Radio Boys are
just about the real thing.”
“That’s putting it a little too strongly, I’m afraid,” replied the
delighted Bob.
“Not a bit,” protested Mr. Bentley. “I was willing to agree with him
after he told me of how you saved the ship on that stormy night and
how you pursued and captured the rascal that tried to kill his
cousin. Oh, you see I know all the deep dark secrets of your lives.
“That’s the kind of fellows we’d like to have in the Forest Service
when they get old enough,” he went on. “Frank here tells me that
he’s got his eye on you for the radio work, but if he doesn’t book
you for that, come to me and see how you like the work of a forest
ranger.”
“Speaking of forestry work,” said Bob, taking advantage of the
opening to turn the conversation away from him and his chums, “I
want to tell you, Mr. Bentley, how we enjoyed your talk over the
radio. We thought it was splendid from start to finish.”
“And that message at the end almost knocked us off our chairs with
surprise and pleasure,” put in Joe.
“So you got that, did you?” returned Mr. Bentley, smiling. “I wasn’t
dead sure that you’d be listening, but put it in on a chance. Well,
you see I’ve kept my word.”
“And mighty glad we are that you have,” said Herb. “The only trouble
with your speech that night was that it was too short. I could have
kept on listening all night.”
“I’m glad you felt that way,” replied Mr. Bentley. “I didn’t know
but what I was boring my audience stiff. If I’d only been able to
see the people I was talking to, I could have told something by the
looks on their faces. But the dead silence and the lack of response
rather got on my nerves. I’d have felt a lot more comfortable if I’d
been fighting a forest fire.”
“Rather queer idea of comfort, don’t you think?” laughed Bob.