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Radio Boys Trailing a Voice; Or, Solving a Wireless Mystery

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<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> <h3>IN A DILEMMA</h3></div> There was a moment of stupor and paralysis as the meaning of the crash dawned upon the radio boys. Buck and his crowd had vanished and were footing it up the fast-darkening street at the top of their speed. The first impulse of the radio boys was to follow their example. They knew that none of them was responsible for the disaster, and they were of no mind to be sacrificed on behalf of the gang that had attacked them. And they knew that in affairs of that kind the ones on the ground were apt to suffer the more severely. They actually started to run away, but had got only a few feet from the scene of the smash when Bob, who had been thinking quickly, called a halt. “None of this stuff for us, fellows,” he declared. “We’ve got to face the music. I’m not going to have a hunted feeling, even if we succeeded 21 in getting away. We know we didn’t do it and we’ll tell the plain truth. If that doesn’t serve, why so much the worse for us. But at any rate we won’t be despising ourselves as cowards.” As usual, his comrades accorded him the leadership and fell in with his plan, although it was not without many misgivings that they awaited the coming of the angry proprietor of the place, who had already started in pursuit of them, accompanied by many others who had been attracted by the crash and whose numbers were being rapidly augmented. “Here are the fellows that smashed my window!” cried Mr. Larsen, the proprietor of the drygoods store, rushing up to them and shaking his fist in their faces. “Where are the police?” he shouted, looking around him. “I’ll have them arrested for malicious damage.” And while he faced them, gesticulating wildly, his face purple with anger and excitement, it may be well for the benefit of those who have not read the preceding volumes of this series to tell briefly who the radio boys are and what had been their adventures before the time this story opens. The acknowledged leader of the boys was Bob Layton, son of a prosperous chemist of Clintonia, in which town Bob had been born and brought up. Mr. Layton was a respected citizen of the 22 town and foremost in its civic activities. Clintonia was a thriving little city of about ten thousand population, situated on the Shagary River, about seventy-five miles from the city of New York. Bob at the beginning of this story was about sixteen years old, tall and stalwart and a clean-cut specimen of upstanding American youth. He was of rather dark complexion and had a pair of eyes that looked straight at one. Those eyes were usually merry, but could flash with indignation when circumstances required it. He was never on the lookout for trouble, but was always ready to meet it half way, and his courageous character together with his vigorous physique had made him prominent in the sports of the boys of his own age. He was a crack baseball player and one of the chief factors of the high school football eleven. No one in Clintonia was held in better liking. Bob’s special chum was Joe Atwood, son of the leading physician of the town. Joe was fair in complexion and sturdy in makeup. He and Bob had been for many years almost inseparable companions, Bob usually acting as captain in anything in which they might be engaged, while Joe served as first mate. The latter had a hot temper, and his impulsiveness sometimes got him into trouble and would have involved him in scrapes 23 oftener if it had not been for the cooler head and steadying influence of Bob. Two other friends of the boys who were almost always in their company were Herb Fennington, whose father kept a large general store in the town, and Jimmy Plummer, son of a respected carpenter and contractor. Herb was of a rather indolent disposition, but was jolly and good-natured and always full of jokes, some of them good, others poor, which he frequently sought to spring on his companions. Jimmy was a trifle younger than his mates, fat and round and excessively fond of the good things of life. His liking for that special dainty had gained him the nickname of “Doughnuts,” and few of such nicknames were ever more fittingly bestowed. Apart from the liking that drew them together, the boys had another link in their common interest in radio. From the time that this wonderful new science had begun to spread over the country with such amazing rapidity, they had been among the most ardent “fans.” Everything that they could read or learn on the subject was devoured with avidity, and they were almost constantly at the home of one or the other, listening in on their radio sets and, lately, sending messages, in the latter of which they had now attained an unusual degree of proficiency. 24 In decided contrast to Bob and his friends was another group of Clintonia youth, between whom and the radio boys there was a pronounced antipathy. The leader of this group was Buck Looker, a big overgrown, hulking boy, dull in his studies and a bully in character. His two special cronies were Carl Lutz, a boy of about his own age, and Terry Mooney, both of them noted for their mean and sneaking dispositions. Buck lorded it over them, and as his father was one of the richest men in the town they cringed before him and were always ready to back him up in any piece of meanness and mischief. The enthusiasm of Bob and his friends for radio was fostered by the help and advice of the Reverend Doctor Dale, the clergyman in charge of the Old First Church of Clintonia, who, in addition to being an eloquent preacher, was keenly interested in all latter-day developments of science, especially radio. Whenever the boys got into trouble with their sets they knew that all they had to do was to go to the genial doctor and be helped out of their perplexities. An incident that gave a great impetus to their interest in the subject was the offering of prizes by Mr. Ferberton, the member of Congress for their district, for the best radio sets turned out by the boys of his congressional district by their own endeavors. Bob, Joe, and Jimmy entered 25 into this competition with great zest. Herb with his habitual indolence kept out of it. While the boys were engrossed with their radio experiments an incident happened in town that led them into many unexpected adventures. An automobile run by a visitor in town, a Miss Nellie Berwick, got out of her control and dashed through the window of a store. Bob and Joe, who happened to be at hand, rescued the girl from imminent peril, while Herb and Jimmy did good work in curbing the fire that followed the accident. How the boys learned of the orphan girl’s story, got on the track of the rascal who had tried to swindle her and forced him to make restitution; what part the radio played in bringing the fellow to terms; how they detected and thwarted the plans of Buck Looker and his cronies to wreck their sets; are told in the first volume of this series entitled: “The Radio Boys’ First Wireless; Or, Winning the Ferberton Prize.” That summer the chums went to Ocean Point on the seashore, where many of the Clintonia folks had established a little bungalow colony of their own. What adventures they met with there; what strides they made in the practical work of radio; how they were enabled by their knowledge and quick application of it to save a storm-tossed ship on which members of their own families were voyaging; how they ran down 26 and captured the scoundrel Cassey who had knocked out with a blackjack the operator at the sending station and looted his safe—these and many more incidents are narrated in the second volume of this series entitled: “The Radio Boys at Ocean Point; Or, The Message That Saved the Ship.” While the summer season was yet at its height, the boys had occasion to rescue the occupants of a rowboat that had been run down by men in a stolen motor boat. The two rescued youths proved to be vaudeville actors, and the boys grew very friendly with them. The injury that crippled one of them, Larry Bartlett; the false accusation brought against him by Buck Looker; the way in which the boys succeeded in getting work for Larry at the sending station, where his remarkable gift of mimicry received recognition; how they themselves were placed on the broadcasting program, and the clever way in which they trapped the motor-boat thieves; are told in the third volume of the series, entitled: “The Radio Boys at the Sending Station; Or, Making Good in the Wireless Room.” The coming of fall brought the boys back to Clintonia, where, however, the usual course of their studies was interrupted by an epidemic that made necessary for a time the closing of the 27 schools. This gave the radio boys an opportunity to make a trip to Mountain Pass, a popular resort in the hills. Here they came in contact with a group of plotters who were trying to put through a nefarious deal and were able to thwart the rascals through the use of radio. By that same beneficent science too they were able to save a life when other means of communication were blocked. And not the least satisfactory feature was the utter discomfiture they were able to visit upon Buck Looker and his gang. These and many other adventures are told in the fourth volume of the series, entitled: “The Radio Boys at Mountain Pass; Or, The Midnight Call for Assistance.” And now to return to the radio boys as they stood facing the angry storekeeper amid a constantly growing throng of curious onlookers. They had been in many tighter fixes in their life but none that was more embarrassing. “I’ll have them arrested!” the storekeeper repeated, his voice rising to a shrill treble. “Now look here,” replied Bob. “Suppose you cut out this talk of having us arrested. In the first place, we didn’t break your window. In the second place, if we had it wouldn’t be a matter of arrest but of making good the damage.” “All right then,” said Mr. Larsen eagerly, 28 catching at the last word. “Make good the damage. It will cost at least two hundred dollars to replace that window.” “I think you’re a little high,” returned Bob. “But that doesn’t matter. I didn’t say that we’d make the damage good. I said that if we’d broken it, it would be a matter of making good. But we didn’t break it, and that lets us out I’ll say.” “It’s easy to say that,” sneered the merchant. “How do I know that you didn’t break it? It would of course be natural for you to try to lie out of it.” “It wouldn’t be natural for us to lie out of it,” replied Bob, controlling his temper with difficulty. “That isn’t our way of doing things. Why do you suppose we stayed here when it would have been perfectly easy for us to get away? It wasn’t a snowball we threw that broke your window. It was one thrown by the fellows we were fighting with.” “Always the other fellow that does it!” replied the storekeeper angrily. “Who was that other fellow or fellows then? Tell me that. Come on now, tell me that.” Bob kept silent. He had no love for Buck Looker and his gang, who had always tried to injure him, but he was not going to inform. 29 “See,” said Mr. Larsen, misunderstanding his silence. “When I ask you, you can’t tell me. You’re the fellows that did it, all right, and you’ll pay me for it or I’ll have you put in jail, that’s what I’ll do.” “I saw the fellows who were firing snowballs in this direction,” spoke up Mr. Talley, a caterer, pushing his way through the throng. “I nearly bumped into them as they were running away. Buck Looker was one of them. I saw his face plainly and can’t be mistaken. The others I’m not so sure of, but I think they were Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney. “For my part, Mr. Larsen,” he continued, “I don’t see how a snowball could break that heavy plate-glass window, anyway. My windows are no heavier, and they’ve often had snowballs come against them without doing any harm. Are you sure it wasn’t something else that smashed the glass?” “Dead sure,” replied Larsen. “Come inside and see for yourself.” He led the way into his store, and Mr. Talley, the boys, and a number of others crowded in after him. “Look,” said Larsen, pointing to a piece of dress goods that had been hanging in the window. “See where the snow has splashed against it? 30 There’s no question that a snowball did it. You can see the bits of snow around here yet if you’ll only look.” This was true and the evidence seemed conclusive. But just then Bob’s keen eyes detected something else. He stooped down and brought up quite a large sharp-edged stone which still had some fragments of snow adhering to it and held it up for all to see. “Here’s the answer,” he said. “This stone was packed in the snowball, and that is why it smashed the window!” <hr class='major' /> <div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> 31 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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