Returning Cub's "Goat"
In the morning after breakfast Mr. Perry called a conference on deck for
the purpose of discussing "the mystery and Cub's goat", as Hal put it.
"Yes," said Bud, his sense of humor stimulated by this allusion; "all Mr.
Perry has to do to return Cub's goat is to prove there isn't any mystery
about the affair."
"I didn't say I was going to do that," objected the adult member of
the party.
"What--return the goat or disprove the mystery?" asked Bud.
"Now you're getting facetious," broke in Cub.
"Not necessarily," objected Mr. Perry. "I didn't promise, or have in
mind, to do either of those things. The fact of the matter is, a mystery
represents the state or condition of mind of the person mystified. Now, I
am not mystified over this affair at all; hence there is no mystery in
it, so far as I am concerned."
"Then explain it to us," Bud challenged.
"Oh, no; I didn't mean I could do that."
"Then you must be mystified," Bud argued.
"Suppose you have a difficult example to do at school, and finally after
working at it a long time you have to confess you can't do it--does that
mean it's a mystery and you are mystified?"
This was a poser for the boys. They had never looked at a subject of this
kind on any such light.
"Cub, you're the highbrow of our bunch," said Hal after some moments of
puzzled silence.
"Oh, get away with that stuff," Cub protested, but, somehow, a faint
glimmer of satisfaction at the "compliment" shone in his countenance.
"No, I won't, either," Hal insisted. "It's true. This thing is too much
for Bud and me. You've got to settle it for us."
Cub "swelled up" a little with importance at this admission. He was
sitting in a camp chair with his feet resting on the taffrail, it being
a habit of his to rest his feet on something higher than his head, if
possible, whenever seated. Now, however, there seemed to be a demand
for superior head-work, so he lowered his feet, straightened up his
back, and said:
"Well."--speaking slowly--"I don't want to get in bad with my father by
trying to prove I know more than he does, but my argument would be that
all of life is not arithmetic."
"Good!" exclaimed Hal, eager to defend his belief in things mysterious,
and Bud signified his approval in similar manner.
"Yes, that isn't bad at all," admitted Mr. Perry, glad to have stimulated
his son's mind into action. "But if we can't explain this affair with
mathematics, maybe we can explain it by some other element of human
education."
"What, for instance?" asked Cub. "Not by readin', 'ritin', or
'rithmetic."
"No, we'll exclude the three R's for the present, although all of them
may figure in our work before it is finished."
"Well," mused Cub; "the others are history, geography, spelling--"
"Why didn't you stop with geography?" asked his father.
"Geography!" exclaimed Bud. "How can you use that to explain a mystery?"
"It depends on whether geography is involved," Mr. Perry replied. "In
this case it seems to me that geography is a very important element. We
may have to know considerably more about the geography of the Thousand
Islands in order to solve this so-called mystery. Now, mind you, I don't
mean to say that we're going to get at the bottom of this affair, but I
do want to suggest that if it is to be solved by any systematic process,
the first elements to be employed in the process are a little geography
and a little arithmetic. With this in view, I would suggest that you get
busy with your wireless outfit and see what you can find out."
The three boys gazed curiously at Cub's father and then at one another in
a puzzled manner.
"Haven't I given you enough hint?" asked Mr. Perry. "I don't want to do
the work myself--in fact, I couldn't if I wished to, for I can't send a
wireless message; but if I could, I know exactly what I'd do."
"We might send a broadcast to all other amateurs and find out if any of
them can help us," Hal suggested.
"How could they help us?" asked Bud skeptically.
"I'm sure I can't tell you," replied Mr. Perry. "But you have a dandy
field to work on. All you need is a little imagination; then begin to do
a little head-work, and before you know it you'll have a lead to work on.
And let me add something more. There are two things in this world, which,
working together, can knock a mystery into a cocked hat more successfully
than anything else in the world that I know of."
"I bet I know what they are," Cub volunteered, eagerly.
"Mathematics and imagination," almost shouted Hal in a wild scramble of
mind to beat Cub with the answer.
The latter cast a wrathful glance at the saucy youth who had broken in
ahead of him.
"Tee-hee!" laughed Bud with fitting imitation of Hal's characteristic
vocal merriment.
As for Tee-hee, that worthy individual preserved his dignity for
the nonce.
"Well," laughed Mr. Perry; "You've hit the nail on the head, but I
venture to say you can't explain why mathematics and imagination can put
a mystery to rout."
Hal confessed he was unable to explain.
"It's too much highbrow for me," he said. "And I bet it's too much
highbrow for Cub."
The latter said nothing. Evidently he was thinking hard. He leaned back
in his camp chair and hoisted his feet upon the rail again.
"Well, let's quit the highbrow field and get down to business," suggested
Mr. Perry. "If we're able to put this thing through along mathematical
lines, I bet you boys will have enough imagination to tell me why
mathematics and imagination can put any mystery on earth to rout."
"I'm goin' to get busy with the spark gap," Cub announced suddenly, as he
sprang to his feet.
"You've got a big thing ahead of you, boys," announced the owner of the
Catwhisker. "I venture to say there are some big surprises in store for
you. For instance, you're likely to find the newspapers of the United
States and Canada giving considerable space to this affair."
"How are they going to get hold of it?" asked Bud.
"There's where you're short of imagination, my boy. How many amateurs do
you suppose were listening in and got the messages between you and those
two radio contestants?"
"I bet there were a hundred if there was one," declared Hal.
"And were they interested?"
"Were they?" exclaimed Cub. "Every last one of 'em was wild with
curiosity."
"And did they talk about it to anybody?"
"They didn't talk about anything else," Bud opined.
"And didn't you suppose some of those amateurs know some newspaper
reporters?"
"We fellows all know several reporters," said Cub, with an
appreciative grin.
"All right," said Mr. Perry, significantly. "Now, all I have to say to
you boys is, watch the headlines whenever you get near a news stand."
The three radio boys now repaired to the cabin, while the owner of the
yacht busied himself about matters of nautical interest to him on deck.
"You've got to hand it to my father for one thing," Cub declared as he
seated himself near the radio table and hoisted his feet thereupon. "He
sure has some imagination."
"And some mathematics, too, the way he subtracts mist from mystery every
time our brains get lost in a fog," Hal added, with a self-appreciative
"tee-hee."
Cub and Bud also laughed in spite of Hal's excusable self-appreciation.
"Do you know, I don't feel nearly so mystified as I did before that talk
with your father began," Bud announced.
"It's the mathematics and imagination getting their work in," Cub
explained with a wink.
"It sounds funny, and yet, I can't help feeling there's something to it,"
Hal remarked.
"Well," said Cub, bringing his feet down from the table with enough noise
to rivet a conclusion; "you may call it addition, or subtraction, or
multiplication, or division, or algebra, or geometry, or trigonometry, or
calculus--does that complete the list?--I'm going to make my imagination
leap across the spark gap; so here goes."
He snapped the aerial switch into sending, began to "jiggle" the
key alphabetically, and the spark leaped with successive spits
across the gap.
"Cub's got his goat back," Hal remarked with a knowing look at Bud.
The latter grinned and nodded his concurrence.