A Mystery and Cub's "Goat"
Cub hastened to his father and gave him a rapid narrative of events as
they had been received by wireless.
"Well, that's interesting, to say the least," observed Mr. Perry with a
look of curious amusement.
Cub waited a few moments for further comment, but as it was slow coming,
he asked impulsively:
"What are we going to do?"
"What do you think we ought to do?" inquired the man at the wheel,
looking sharply at his son.
"I don't know; I'm stumped," was the boy's reply.
"That's a frank admission. First time I've known you to admit such
absolute defeat. Do you think we'd better turn about and go back home?"
"No," Cub replied with a revival of decision in his tone of voice.
"Well, shall we stop, turn to the right or left, or go ahead?"
There was a slump to indecision again. Cub looked foolish. His father was
making sport of him and he did not know how to answer intelligently. In
desperation, however, he replied:
"Go ahead."
"What for?" asked Mr. Perry. "Shall we dash to the rescue and face those
four men, who probably are armed with pistols?"
"No, of course not. Anyway, we don't know where they are. They may be
twenty-five miles from here, for all we know."
"Then we'll have to give up the search if you don't get any more messages
from him," declared the boy's father.
"That's so," Cub admitted. "And if those men captured him and took him
away in their boat, this affair will have to remain a mystery in our
lives forever afterward."
"You'd better go back to the cabin and see if Bud and Hal got any more
messages from him," suggested Mr. Perry.
"That's the only hope left," said Cub as he turned to go.
But this "last hope" proved to be vain. Bud and Hal were both still
listening-in, but with little suggestion of expectancy on their
countenances.
"Anything more?" inquired the tall youth, unwilling to put his question
in negative form, in spite of the fact that his better judgment would
have dictated it thus.
Both listeners shook their heads.
"Then that's the end of our search," Cub declared with a crestfallen and
disgusted look.
"Why?" asked Bud.
"Answer the question yourself; it's easy,"
"I don't see why we should give up just because we've run up against an
obstacle a little worse than any we've met before," said Hal.
"All right," Cub challenged. "Let's see what you propose to do."
"Well," Hal responded slowly; "we could go on till we found--"
He stopped and looked foolish.
"Found what?" asked Cub. "The island? How would you do that without
something to guide your radio compass?"
"That's so"; Hal admitted, with another foolish look.
"It's too bad," Bud broke in, with tone well suited to his words.
"I suppose the next thing for us to do is to look for a tie-up for the
night." said Hal indicating his sense of defeat by his change of subject.
"I think father is doing that now," replied Cub. "Guess I'll go and see
what his idea is on that subject."
By this time the Catwhisker was several miles beyond Grindstone Island
and was winding its way through a labyrinthine group to the north of
Grandview. The scenery here was so enchanting that Cub and his father
speedily agreed that the first convenient, unclaimed natural harbor that
they discovered ought to be adopted as theirs for the night.
The season was well opened, and there were many boats on the river, so
many, indeed, that it seemed strange that any live, intelligent person
could be marooned on one of those islands, however vast their number,
without being able to call attention to his distress. However, there were
main highways in this, as in any other, semi-wilderness, and doubtless
some of the by-ways were less accessible, if not less inviting and in the
nature of things, less frequently visited.
This company of "rescue tourists" had motored through the Lake of the
Thousand Islands before, and hence were not at a loss at any time how to
find their way. The spectacle, therefore, of a hit-and-miss, crazy-quilt
arrangement of long, round, high, low, green, bare islands, many of them
decked with a wealth of firs, pines, tamaracks, oaks, maples, bushes and
flowers, was not new to them. However, it was not long after their
decision to look for a mooring place when they found an ideal cove and
tied the Catwhisker to an overhanging bent, gnarled, contorted pine tree.
No camp was made on the shore, as they had no intention of remaining at
this place longer than until the next break of day. All hands were pretty
tired after supper, but Hal decided he must listen-in for a while before
going to bed. So he donned a pair of phones and began to tune for an
evening program, when a call, clear and distinct, addressed to him,
suddenly held his attention.
It was from the now mysterious "V A X", the "Island Crusoe". Hal answered
it and then received the following message:
"Thanks awfully for your good intentions, but I didn't need any help.
Sorry to have troubled you. I did have a wager with that other fellow,
but not the kind he described. It was the first big contest in the
history of radio. I gave odds of four to one and am the winner. We both
went to the island together and each put up an independent receiving and
sending set. My part of the contest was to induce someone to come to the
rescue of me as an island prisoner; his part was to head off any such
rescue. He admitted I won after it was certain you were headed for us,
and then we both lost our nerve and ducked. Good-bye."
Bud and Cub took the hint, from Hal's eager and almost awed manner, that
something unusual was coming in through the ether and donned phones in
time to catch the latter half of the message. This was sufficient to give
them a clear understanding of the situation. After the "good-bye" finish,
Hal made a desperate effort to hold the "Island operator" for further
conversation, but could get no reply. At last he gave it up and they
turned their attention to discussion of the situation.
"Well, I wonder if that's the last well hear from him," said Bud as he
removed the phones from his ears, while the other two boys did likewise.
"More of a puzzle than ever, isn't it?" Cub remarked.
"Why, don't you believe the explanation he telegraphed to us?" Hal
inquired.
"I do not," the tall youth replied positively.
"Why not?" Hal persisted. "Doesn't it satisfy your lordship?"
"Cut it out, Tee-hee," the alleged "lordship" ordered. "You make me
sore."
"Then I'll rub on some salve."
"If you do, you'll get your fingers burnt," Cub retorted.
"I always thought you were a hot one. But that doesn't answer the
question before us."
"No, because we don't know how to settle it," Cub admitted. "If we knew
what we're talkin' about, we wouldn't be batting this nonsense back and
forth. We can't hit the nail on the head, so we just fan the air. By the
way, what did that fellow say before Bud and I began to listen-in?"
Hal reviewed the first half of the statement received by him. Then Mr.
Perry, who had just returned from ashore, where he had been testing the
security of the tie-up, entered the cabin.
"What's the trouble, boys?" he asked, noting the studied expression of
their faces.
"No trouble, exactly," Cub replied. "Just another mystery."
"That's interesting," the yachtsman commented. "Tell me about it."
"You get my goat, dad," Cub declared.
Mr. Perry laughed.
"Why do I get your goat, Bob?" he asked.
"Because the more mystery there is floating around, the better
pleased you are."
"Is that so? Well, what's the mystery now?"
"You tell 'im, Hal," requested the youth of the "goat-got affliction".
Hal did as requested. Quiet of several moments followed.
"Well?" Mr. Perry interrogated.
"Well!". repeated Cub vociferously. "Is that all you can say?"
"I'd like to return your goat, Bob, but I don't see how I can," Mr. Perry
announced provokingly.
"In other words, you don't see anything startling about that fellow's
last performance," Cub inferred.
"No--o, nothing startling," his father replied slowly.
"What do you make out of it, then?"
"I don't know that I make anything out of it, except a lot of nonsense."
"You think it's a joke?"
"I wouldn't call it anything but a lot of nonsense until I know more
about it."
"But doesn't it make you impatient to find out what it all means?"
Cub demanded.
"No, not in the least. I got over that long ago, my son. Don't let any
such habit grip you; it'll wear your nerves out, and then you won't have
any lead-in to connect your antennae with your brains."
"Ha, ha, ha," laughed the man's youthful audience in chorus, even Cub
appreciating the illustration.
"When did you begin to study radio, Mr. Perry?" asked Bud.
"Oh, I've been learning rapidly ever since I was thrown into the company
of you hams," was the reply. "But don't let me get you off the question."
"The question--what was the question?" asked Cub, digging his fingers
into his rather lengthy locks of hair.
"Mystery, wasn't it?" reminded Mr. Perry.
"Yes, that's it," Bud replied. "The mystery of the Radio Robinson Crusoe
in the Lake of the Thousand Isles."
"That sounds interesting, but it's mostly a poetic, or ecstatic, jumble
of words," said Mr. Perry. "And right there is the secret of many a
mystery. It's clothed in a maze of language. Remove the maze, and it
begins to look simple."
"Where is the maze of language in this affair?" Cub challenged.
"From what I've heard, the whole affair seems to have consisted
principally of language. Now, I tell you what we'll do. We'll go to bed
early and have a good sleep. In the morning, we'll shake this affair up
in a sieve and see if we can't get rid of everything but the main lumps
of the facts. Then we'll size them up and see what we can make of them.
In my opinion, we can get at the bottom of what you choose to regard as a
profound mystery."
"If you do, pa, you'll return my goat," said Cub.
"It's up to you, Bob," was his father's reply. "I've no desire to keep
him in my stable."