The Golden Boys Rescued by Radio

THE POCKET RADIO.

“There, that’s done. Got that condenser ready, Jack?”

“I’ll have it in a jiffy, Bob. The wire’s come unsoldered and I’ve got to fix it but it won’t take but a minute.”

“All right, but make it snappy. I’m on pins to know whether the thing’s going to work.”

The two boys, Bob and Jack Golden, aged nineteen and eighteen respectively, had been hard at work for nearly three weeks in their laboratory in the basement of their home in Skowhegan, Maine, a small town some hundred miles north of Portland, on the Kennebec River. It was now nearly ten o’clock at night and they had been hard at work since early morning in an endeavor to bring their labors to an end before going to bed.

“There, she’s fixed,” Jack declared, with a sigh of relief as he placed a small soldering iron in its place over the work bench.

“Good. Now you take your set up to the bedroom and we’ll give it a try out. If it only works, it’ll be the best thing we’ve ever done, Jack boy,” and Bob threw his arms about his brother’s neck and gave him a hearty hug.

“Save the pieces,” Jack laughed as he turned to the bench and picked up a small wooden case which he slipped into his coat pocket. Then from a small drawer he took a brass cylinder about seven inches long and slightly over an inch thick. Caps, which had the appearance of silver, but were composed of an alloy, the secret of which was known only to the two boys, closed the ends of the cylinder. Some three feet of fine wire was soldered to the center of each cap. From the same drawer he took a small round object closely resembling the ear piece of a head telephone.

“I’ll call you in about ten minutes,” he said as he started toward the door. “That is, I’ll try to,” he added turning with his hand on the knob.

As soon as his brother had closed the door Bob set to work assembling his outfit similar, in all respects, to that which Jack had taken with him. The small wooden case he put in an outside coat pocket pushing the two wires which led from it through the lining of the coat. These he quickly attached to the brass cylinder which he then slipped into his inside pocket. The little telephone receiver, which was designed to serve as a transmitter as well, he connected by two wires to the two terminals at one end of the case and slipped it into the same pocket. As he stood there there was nothing visible about him to indicate that he carried on his person their latest invention.

“There, I guess there’s nothing more to do except wait,” he said aloud as he sat down in a chair.

While he is waiting will be as good a time as any other to introduce the two boys to any who have not read the previous volumes of this series.

Bob and Jack Golden were sons of a well-to-do manufacturer and lumberman, Mr. Richard Golden. Their home was in the little town of Skowhegan on the Kennebec River. The boys, being of an inventive turn, their father had fitted up for them, in the basement of the home, a combined workshop and laboratory. Here they spent many hours of their vacations and more than one useful invention had resulted from their labors. The most important was undoubtedly an entirely new type of storage cell. This cell, though small enough to be carried in the pocket, was yet powerful enough to run a motor boat or an automobile for a long time.

“It’s about time I was getting that call,” Bob thought as he glanced at his watch for the tenth time since Jack had left. “It’s been more than ten minutes. Guess I’d better go up and see what’s up.”

But just as he started to rise from his chair a faint but distinct buzzing sound caught his ear.

“There he is now,” he thought as he quickly pulled the receiver from his pocket and held it to his ear.

“Hello, Bob. Can you hear me?” The words were as distinctly audible as if his brother had been standing at his side.

“Fine,” he replied holding the small receiver, which, by pressing a button on the side of the case, he had converted into a transmitter, a few inches from his mouth. “It seems to work all right at this end. Can you hear me?”

Pressing the button again he held the receiver to his ear once more.

“Plain as day,” came the delighted voice of his brother. “I’ll be down in two shakes of a dog’s tail.”

Bob had hardly disconnected the wires and taken the case and cylinder from his pockets when Jack burst into the room.

“Whoop la, she’s a go all right,” the younger boy shouted as he caught hold of his brother and for a moment the two delighted boys executed an Indian war dance about the room.

“We’d better not make too much noise,” Bob cautioned as out of breath he threw himself into a chair. “I expect the folks are in bed by this time and they may think the house is on fire,” he laughed.

“But to think that we’ve hit it at last after trying more than twenty different things,” Jack declared as he too sat down. “It seems too good to be a fact, but those selenium plates are evidently just the thing. They catch the waves just as well and perhaps better than aerials.”

“They seem to is right,” agreed more cautious Bob. “But remember we’ve tried them for only a comparatively few feet. How they will work at a long distance is another question.”

“Of course that’s so,” agreed Jack thoughtfully, “but, for the life of me, I can’t see why they won’t catch them just as well at a long distance as at a short. Anyhow we’ll know before long. I’ll take my bike and go up to the lake first thing in the morning and we’ll give them another try.”

“That’s the ticket, and now I move we hit the hay for a few hours’ sleep, I’m about played out working all day and most of the night the way we’ve been doing lately,” Bob said as he switched off the light.

The two boys had indeed as Jack put it, “been burning the candle at both ends,” and they no more than touched their pillows before they were sound asleep. Nor did they awake until their sister, Edna, called them.

“Come on there, you sleepy heads. Think I’m going to keep breakfast waiting for you all day?” she cried as she sprinkled a few drops of water on Jack’s face.

“Who called out the fire department?” the latter muttered as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“It needs more than a fire department to get your eyes open,” Edna laughed as she gave Bob a similar treatment. “You’ve got just three minutes to get down to the table or you get nothing to eat,” and with the ominous threat she ran from the room.

“Guess she means it,” Bob yawned as he threw the bed clothes to one side.

They made it with ten seconds to spare, but, as Jack declared, “a miss is as good as a mile.”

“Thought I’d scare you into hustling,” Edna declared as she placed a huge plate of hot cakes in front of them.

“I’ll call you in about fifteen minutes,” Jack said a few minutes later as he stood in front of the house ready to mount his motor cycle.

“Better make it twenty,” Bob laughed. “You’ll have Switzer on your trail if you go to burning the road before you get out of town.”

“He’ll have a swell time catching me,” Jack declared as he started.

The motor cycle made not the slightest sound as he sped down the street. The putt-putt of the usual gas engine was absent as the wheel was equipped with a powerful electric motor driven by one of their new cells.

Lake Wesserunsette, a beautiful sheet of water, nearly five miles long, lies to the north of Skowhegan and about six miles distant. Here the Goldens had a summer cottage situated near the shore of the lake in the midst of the tall pines. “The Shadow of the Pines” as they had named the cottage, was a large comfortably furnished house and during July and August the family spent much of their time there. But this summer they were a little later than usual and had not as yet opened the house.

“Just sixteen minutes,” Jack declared after a glance at his watch, as he leaned the motor cycle against the steps of the front porch.