Back Aa

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

Close

<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> <h3>OFF TO THE WOODS</h3></div> For days the town hummed with the excitement that followed the daring robbery of the truck belonging to Mr. Fennington, but as time passed and there seemed little prospect of bringing the robbers to justice, interest died down. But the radio boys never abated their resolve to do all in their power to recover the stolen merchandise, although at that time they were kept so busy in high school, preparing for a stiff examination, that they had little time for anything else. “It’s getting so bad lately that I don’t even get time to enjoy my meals,” grumbled Jimmy, one sunny spring afternoon. “Swinging an oar a la Ben Hur would be just a little restful exercise after the way we’ve been drilling the last week.” “Get out!” exclaimed Joe. “Why, you wouldn’t last two hours in one of those galleys, Doughnuts. They’d heave you over the side as excess baggage once they got wise to you.” 128 “After two hours of rowing in one of those old galleys, he’d be glad to get heaved overboard, I’ll bet,” put in Herb, grinning. “I think Jimmy would rather drown any day than work that hard.” “Huh! I don’t see where you fellows get off to criticize,” retorted the harassed youth. “I never saw any of you win gold medals for hard and earnest work.” “Lots of people deserve medals who never get them,” Bob pointed out. “Yes. But, likewise, lots of people don’t deserve ’em who don’t get ’em,” retorted Jimmy, and for once appeared to have won an argument. “I guess you’re right at that,” conceded Bob. “But, anyway, I’m going to pass those examinations no matter how hard I have to work. It will pretty near break my heart, but it can’t be helped.” The others were equally determined, and they dug into the mysteries of Horace and Euclid to such good effect that they all passed the examinations with flying colors. After that came a breathing space, and just at that time a golden opportunity presented itself. Mr. Fennington, Herbert’s father, had become interested, together with several other business men of Clintonia, in a timber deal comprising 129 many acres of almost virgin forest in the northern part of the state. He was going to look over the ground personally, and when Herb learned of this, he urged his father to take him and the other radio boys along for a brief outing over the Easter holiday. When his father seemed extremely dubious over this plan, Herb reminded him that Mr. Layton had taken them all to Mountain Pass the previous autumn, and that it would be only fair to reciprocate. “But the Lookers are up in that part of the country, too,” said Mr. Fennington. “Aren’t you fellows scared to go where Buck Looker is?” he added, with a smile lurking about his mouth. “Oh, yes, we’re terribly afraid of that!” answered Herb sarcastically. “We’ll take our chances, though, if you’ll only let us go with you.” “Well, well, I’ll see,” said his father, and Herb knew that this was practically equivalent to surrender. Accordingly he hunted up his chums and broached the project to them. “Herb, your words are as welcome as the flowers in May,” Bob told him, with a hearty slap on the back. “If this trip actually works out, we’ll forgive you all last winter’s jokes, won’t we, fellows?” “It’s an awful lot to ask of a fellow, but I suppose we can manage it,” said Joe, and Jimmy, 130 after pretending to think the matter over very seriously, finally said the same. They were all overjoyed at the prospect of such a trip, and had little difficulty in getting the consent of their parents. Mr. Fennington eventually consented to take the radio boys with him, and there ensued several days of bustle and excited packing. At length all was ready, and they found themselves, one bright spring morning, installed in a big seven-passenger touring car en route for Braxton Woods, as the strip of timberland was called. “This is the life!” chortled Jimmy, as the miles rolled away behind. “Fresh air, bright sun, the song of birds, and—doughnuts!” and he produced a bulging paper bag full of his favorite dainty. “How do you get that way?” asked Joe severely, although he eyed the bag hungrily. “The ‘song of doughnuts!’ You’re the only Doughnut that I ever heard of that could sing, and you’re no great shakes at it.” “Oh, you know what I meant!” exclaimed Jimmy. “At least, you’re thicker than usual if you don’t.” “Do you hear that, Joe?” laughed Bob. “The boy’s telling you that you’re thick. Are you going to stand for that?” “He knows it’s true. And, anyway, he doesn’t dare talk back for fear I won’t give him one of 131 these delicious little morsels,” said Jimmy placidly. “How about it, Joe?” “That’s taking mean advantage of a poor fellow who’s practically dying of starvation,” said Joe. “Give me a doughnut, and I won’t talk back—until after I’ve eaten it, anyway.” “That’s all right then,” said his plump friend. “After you’ve eaten one, you’ll feel so grateful to me that you’ll regret all the low-down things you’ve ever said about me.” “Oh, you’re the finest pal any fellow ever had,” declared Joe. “How many doughnuts have you left, Jimmy?” “Something tells me that you don’t mean all you say,” said Jimmy suspiciously. “Just the same, I’ll take a chance and give you another one. They won’t last long at the rate they’re going; I can tell that without half trying.” “Well, a short life but a merry one,” said Bob. “Come across with another, Jimmy, will you?” “You know I love you too much to refuse you anything, Bob,” said Jimmy. “Just the same, I’m going to hold out another for myself, and then you big panhandlers can finish them up. I’ve just had four, but I suppose those will have to last me for the present.” “Say, that’s tough—only four!” exclaimed Herb, in mock sympathy. “What will you ever do until lunch time, I wonder?” 132 “I’m wondering the same thing myself; but I’m used to suffering whenever I’m with you fellows, so I suppose I’ll have to grin and bear it somehow.” “I don’t see why you didn’t bring some more, while you were about it,” complained Bob. “You might have known that wouldn’t be half enough.” “It will be a long time before I buy any more for you Indians, you can bet your last dollar on that,” said Jimmy, in an aggrieved voice. “You’ve been going to school a number of years, now, but you still don’t know what ‘gratitude’ means.” “The only one that should be grateful is yourself, Doughnuts,” Joe assured him. “You know if you had eaten that whole bag full of doughnuts that you’d have been heading a funeral to-morrow or next day. It’s lucky you have us around to save you from yourself.” While Jimmy was still framing an indignant reply to this there was a loud report, and the driver quickly brought the big car to a halt. “Blowout,” he remarked laconically, walking around to view a shoe that was flat beyond the possibility of doubt. It was not an unmixed evil to the boys, however, for they welcomed the chance to get out and stretch their cramped muscles. They helped the driver jack up the wheel 133 and change shoes, and in a short time they were ready to proceed. Back they climbed into their places, and with a rasp of changing gears they were on their way once more. Braxton Woods lay something over a hundred miles from Clintonia, but the roads were good most of the way, and they had planned to reach their destination that evening. When they had covered sixty miles of the distance, Mr. Fennington consented to stop for the lunch for which the boys had been clamoring for some time. They took their time over the meal, building a fire and cooking steak and frying potatoes. “Gee, this was a feast fit for a king!” exclaimed Jimmy, when it was over. The boys lay down on the newly sprouted grass, but had hardly got settled when the driver, who appeared restless, summoned them to proceed. “We’ve got a long way to go yet,” he said, “and the last fifteen miles are worse than all the rest of the trip put together. The road is mostly clay and rocks, and at this time of year it’s apt to be pretty wet. I don’t want to have to drive it after dark.” Mr. Fennington was also anxious to get on, so their rest was a brief one, and they were soon on their way again. 134 The radio boys laughed and sang, cracked jokes, and waved to passing cars, while the mileage record on the speedometer mounted steadily up. The sun was still quite a way above the western horizon when they reached the place where the forest road branched off from the main highway. The driver tackled this road cautiously, and they soon found that his description of it had not been overdrawn. It was a narrow trail, in most places not wide enough for two cars to pass, and they wondered what would happen should they meet another car going in the opposite direction. But in the whole fifteen miles they met only one other motor, and fortunately that was at a wide place in the road. The scent of spring and growing things was strong in the air, and compensated somewhat for the atrocious road. The boys were often tossed high in the air as the car bumped over logs and stones, or came up with a lurch out of some deep hole. But they hung on to each other, or whatever else was most convenient, and little minded the rough going. After one particularly vicious lunge, however, the heavy car came down with a slam, and there was a sharp noise of snapping steel. With a muttered exclamation the driver brought his car to a halt and climbed out. “Just as I thought!” he exclaimed. “A spring 135 busted, and the nearest garage twenty miles away. Now we’re up against it for fair!” “Do you mean that we can’t go on?” asked Mr. Fennington anxiously. “It will be dark in another hour.” “I know it will,” replied the chauffeur. “But what can we do about it?” “Can’t we make a temporary repair?” suggested Bob. “We can’t have much further to go now.” “Well, I’m open to suggestions, young fellow,” growled the driver. “If you can tell me how to fix this boiler up, go to it. It’s more than I can do.” Bob and the others made a thorough examination of the damage, and they were not long in concocting a plan. Bob had brought with him a small but very keen-edged ax, and it was the work of only a few minutes to cut a stout limb about six inches in diameter from a tree. With this, and a coil of heavy rope that was carried in the car for emergencies, they proceeded to make the temporary repair. <hr class='major' /> <div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> 136 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2