



Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net.


    [Illustration: TOM SPEEDILY GAVE THE CALL TO THE STATION AT THE
    DIXON PLACE.]




THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS

Or

A Stirring Rescue from the Deep

BY

FRANK V. WEBSTER

AUTHOR OF "AIRSHIP ANDY," "COMRADES OF THE SADDLE,"
"BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE," "BOB THE CASTAWAY," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS




BOOKS FOR BOYS

By FRANK V. WEBSTER

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.

ONLY A FARM BOY
TOM, THE TELEPHONE BOY
THE BOY FROM THE RANCH
THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER
BOB, THE CASTAWAY
THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE
THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS
THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES
THE TWO BOY GOLD MINERS
JACK, THE RUNAWAY
COMRADES OF THE SADDLE
THE BOYS OF BELLWOOD SCHOOL
THE HIGH SCHOOL RIVALS
BOB CHESTER'S GRIT
AIRSHIP ANDY
DARRY, THE LIFE SAVER
DICK, THE BANK BOY
BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE
THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS
HARRY WATSON'S HIGH SCHOOL DAYS

Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York




Copyright, 1912, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS




Contents


  - CHAPTER I--TOM BARNES' WIRELESS
  - CHAPTER II--STATION Z
  - CHAPTER III--"SPOOKS!"
  - CHAPTER IV--"DONNER"
  - CHAPTER V--A BOY WITH A MYSTERY
  - CHAPTER VI--A TIP VIA WIRELESS
  - CHAPTER VII--GRACE MORGAN
  - CHAPTER VIII--QUICK ACTION
  - CHAPTER IX--STRICTLY BUSINESS
  - CHAPTER X--A YOUNG CAPITALIST
  - CHAPTER XI--A GREAT STEP FORWARD
  - CHAPTER XII--"SUN, MOON AND STARS"
  - CHAPTER XIII--THE BLACK CAPS
  - CHAPTER XIV--TURNING THE TABLES
  - CHAPTER XV--AN UNEXPECTED RESCUER
  - CHAPTER XVI--KIDNAPPED
  - CHAPTER XVII--UP TO MISCHIEF
  - CHAPTER XVIII--THE TOY BALLOONS
  - CHAPTER XIX--A STARTLING MESSAGE
  - CHAPTER XX--THE LAUNCH
  - CHAPTER XXI--BRAVING THE STORM
  - CHAPTER XXII--THE RESCUE
  - CHAPTER XXIII--"EVERY INCH A MAN"
  - CHAPTER XXIV--THE KIDNAPPED BOY
  - CHAPTER XXV--TOM ON THE TRAIL--CONCLUSION




THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS




CHAPTER I--TOM BARNES' WIRELESS


"What's that new-fangled thing on the blasted oak, Tom?"

"That, Ben, is a wireless."

"Oh, you don't say so!"

"Or, rather the start of one."

"Say, you aren't original or ambitious or anything like that, are you?"

The speaker, Ben Dixon, bestowed a look of admiration and interest on
the chum he liked best of all in the world, Tom Barnes.

Tom was reckoned a genius in the little community in which he lived. He
had the record of "always being up to something." In the present
instance he had been up a tree, it seemed. From "the new-fangled thing"
Ben had discovered in passing the familiar landmark, the blasted oak,
wires and rods ran up to quite a height, showing that some one had done
some climbing.

Ben became instantly absorbed in an inspection of the contrivance before
him. He himself had some mechanical talent. His father had been an
inventor in a small way, and anything in which Tom had a part always
attracted him.

"Tell me about it. What's that thing up there?" asked Ben, pointing
directly at some metal rods attached to the broken-off top of the tree.

"Those are antennae."

"Looks like an--twenty!" chuckled Ben over his own joke. "There's a
whole network of them, isn't there?"

"They run down to a relay, Ben, catching the electric waves striking the
decoherer, which taps the coherer and disarranges a lot of brass filings
by mechanical vibration. That's the whole essence of the
wireless--otherwise it is no different from common telegraphy--a group
of parts each for individual service in transmitting or receiving the
electric waves."

"Thank you!" observed Ben drily. "How delightfully plain that all is!
You rattle those scientific terms off good and spry, though."

"So will you, as soon as you do what I've been doing," asserted Tom.

"And what's that?"

"Getting a glance at the real wireless outfit Mr. Edson is operating
down at Sandy Point."

"I heard of that," nodded Ben.

"He's a fine man," said Tom enthusiastically. "He's taken all kinds of
trouble to post me and explain things I wanted to know. This little side
show of mine is just an experiment on a small scale. I don't expect any
grand results. It will work out the principle, though, and when I get to
taking messages----"

"What! you don't mean to say you can do that?"

"Just that, Ben," declared Tom confidently.

"From where?"

"Well, mostly from Mr. Edson's station at Sandy Point, and maybe some
stray ones that may slip past him."

"Say!" cried Ben, on fire at once with emulation and optimism, "what's
the matter with me starting a station, too, down at my house? Then we
could have all kinds of fun over our line."

"It isn't much work nor expense," said Tom. "You can get an outfit cheap
for a home-made apparatus--you need some coarse and fine wire for the
main coil, a glass tube, a bell, sounder and a buzzer, some
electromagnets----"

"I see," interrupted Ben with a mock groan, "just a few things picked up
anywhere. Oh, yes!"

"You won't be discouraged once you get interested, Ben," assured Tom.
"We'll talk about your starting a station later. Just now you can help
me quite a bit if you want to."

"Sure!" returned the enterprising Ben with vim.

"All right; I want to string a coil of new wire I got yesterday,"
explained Tom, going around to the other side of the tree. "Why, it's
gone!" he cried.

"What's gone?" queried Ben.

"The wire. Now, isn't that a shame!" cried Tom indignantly, fussing
around among the grass and bushes. "That coil couldn't have walked away.
Some one must have stolen it."

"Don't be too hasty, Tom. Some one passing by may have picked it up. You
know the fellows are playing ball over in the meadow just beyond here.
Some of them may have cut across and stumbled over your wire."

"Couldn't they see that I was putting up a station here?" demanded Tom
with asperity.

"Station?" repeated Ben with a jolly laugh. "See here, old fellow, you
forget that we scientific numbskulls wouldn't know your contrivance here
from a clothes dryer."

"Well, come on, anyway. I've got to find that wire," said Tom with
determination.

In the distance they could hear the shouts of boys at play, and passing
through some brushwood they came to the edge of the open meadow lining
the river.

Half a dozen boys were engaged in various pastimes. Two of them playing
at catch greeted Tom with enthusiasm.

There was no boy at Rockley Cove more popular than Tom Barnes. His
father had farmed it, as the saying goes, at the edge of the little
village for over a quarter of a century. While Mr. Barnes was not
exactly a wealthy man he made a good living, and Tom dressed pretty
well, and was kept at school right along. Now it was vacation time, and
outside of a few chores about the house morning and evening Tom's time
was his own.

The result was that usually Tom had abundant leisure for sports. The
welcome with which his advent was hailed therefore, was quite natural.

"I say, Tom," suddenly spoke Ben, seizing the arm of his companion in
some excitement, "there's Mart Walters."

"Ah, he's here, is he?" exclaimed Tom, and started rapidly across the
meadow to where a crowd of boys were grouped about a diving plank
running out over the stream. "I'm bothered about that missing coil, but
I guess I can take time to attend to Walters."

The boy he alluded to was talking to several companions as Tom and Ben
came up. His back was to the newcomers and he did not see them approach.
Mart Walters was a <DW2> and a braggart. Tom noticed that he was arrayed
in his best, and his first overheard words announced that he was
bragging as usual.

Mart was explaining to a credulous audience some of the wonderful feats
in diving and swimming he had engaged in during a recent stay in Boston.
With a good deal of boastful pride he alluded to a friend, Bert Aldrich,
whose father was a part owner of a big city natatorium. Tom interrupted
his bombast unceremoniously by suddenly appearing directly in front of
the boaster.

"Hello, Mart Walters," he hailed in a sort of aggressive way.

"Hello yourself," retorted Mart, with a slight uneasiness of manner.

"I've been looking for you," said Tom bluntly.

"Have?"

"Yes, ever since I heard some criticisms of yours yesterday on my
bungling swimming."

"Oh, I didn't say much," declared Mart evasively.

"You said enough to make the crowd believe you could beat me all hollow
at diving."

"Well," flustered Mart desperately, "I can."

"Want to prove that?" challenged Tom sharply.

"Some time."

"Why not now? We're all here and the water is fine. We'll make it a dash
for the half-mile fence and return, under water test, somersaults and
diving."

Mart had begun to retreat. He flushed and stammered. Finally he blurted
out:

"I'm due now at Morgan's with a message from my folks."

"You haven't seemed in a hurry," suggested Ben.

"Well, I am now."

"Yes, might muss your collar if you got wet!" sneered a fellow in the
crowd.

"All right," said Tom, "when will you be back?"

"Can't say," declared Mart. "You see, I don't know how long I may be."

He started off, flushed and sheep-faced under the critical gaze of the
crowd. As he did so Tom noticed that he had something in his hand.

"Here!" he cried, "where did you get that?"

Tom had discovered his missing coil of wire. His hand seized it. Mart's
did not let go. The latter gave a jerk, Tom a twist.

"That's mine," Tom said simply. "You took it from where I was stringing
up my wireless."

"I found it," shouted Mart, thoroughly infuriated in being crossed in
any of his plans. "It was kicking around loose. I'll have it too--take
that!"

He came at Tom so suddenly that the latter, unprepared for the attack,
went swinging to the ground under a dizzying blow.

It looked as if Mart was about to follow up the assault with a kick. Tom
offset that peril with a dextrous maneuvre.

Seated flat, he spun about like a top. His feet met the ankles of the
onrushing Mart.

Mart stumbled, tripped and slipped. He tried to catch himself, lost his
balance, fell backward, and the next instant went headlong into the
water with a resounding splash.




CHAPTER II--STATION Z


A yell of derisive delight went up from the smaller youths of the crowd
as Mart Walters went toppling into the water. Mart did not have a real
friend in Rockley Cove, and the little fellows Welcomed an opportunity
for showing their dislike.

Tom, however, promptly on his feet was making for the spot where Mart
was puffing and splashing about, when two of his friends in bathing
attire anticipated his helpful action, reached Mart, and led him,
blinded and dripping, onto dry land.

Mart was a sight. All the starch was taken out of him, and out of his
clothes. He did not linger to renew the conflict. He only shook his fist
at Tom with the half Whimpered words:

"I'll fix you, Tom Barnes, see if I don't! This will be a sorry day for
you."

"Who started it?" demanded Tom bluntly.

"I'll get even with you for this treatment," threatened Mart direfully,
sneaking off.

"You've made an enemy for life of that fellow, Tom," declared Ben.

"Well, he never was very friendly towards me," responded Tom. "Where's
the wire? I've got it," and he picked it up from the ground where it had
dropped. "I'm sorry this thing occurred, but he brought it on himself.
Come on, Ben."

"You're going to stay and have some fun, aren't you, Tom?" inquired one
of the swimmers.

"Can't, boys--that is, just now. I've got something to attend to. See
you again."

Tom and Ben had not proceeded fifty feet, however, when a hurried call
halted them. Tom's younger brother came running towards them.

"Oh, Tom!" he hailed breathlessly, "I've run all the way from the house.
I've got a message for you."

"What is it, Ted?"

"Mr. Edson was passing the house and told me to find you and ask you to
come down to the tower as soon as you could."

"All right, Ted," replied Tom. "I wonder what's up?"

"Why?" questioned Ben.

"I saw Mr. Edson early this morning down at the Point, and thought I'd
got him to talk himself out for a week to come asking him so many
questions about the wireless."

"Are you going to drop rigging out your plant at the old oak till you
see him?"

"We'll have to. It may be something important Mr. Edson wants to see me
about. You come too, Ben."

"Had I better?"

"You want to, don't you?"

"Well, I guess!" replied Ben with undisguised fervor. "I've envied the
way he's posting you in this wireless ever since I first saw his
outfit."

The boys pursued their way to Sandy Point, passing the old blasted oak.
Here Tom took pains to stow the coil of wire safely in a tree. Resuming
their walk they neared Sandy Point twenty minutes later.

The Point was a high but level stretch of shore with one or two small
houses in its vicinity. It was really a part of Rockley Cove, but the
center of the village was half a mile inland.

A high metal framework designated the Point, and could be seen from
quite a distance. This, however, was no recent construction nor a beacon
point, nor originally erected for its present use as a wireless station.

It had served as a windmill for a farmer who once operated an
eighty-acre tract of land. One night his house and barns burned down.
For years the spot was abandoned. Recently, however, the Mr. Edson Tom
had alluded to had come to Rockley Cove and established "Station Z" at
the old windmill.

He had built a room or tower as he called it midway up the windmill
structure. This was reached through a trap door by a fixed iron ladder.
The height and open construction of the windmill enabled the setting of
upper wireless paraphernalia in a fine way, and the whole layout was
found especially serviceable in carrying out Mr. Edson's ideas.

The operator was at the window of the little operating room he had
built, and waved a cheery welcome to his two young friends. Tom and Ben
were up the ladder speedily and through the trap door.

"Did you send for me, Mr. Edson?" inquired Tom.

"Yes, Tom," replied the operator, "and I'm glad you came so promptly.
I've got to leave Rockley Cove on short notice."

"Oh, Mr. Edson, I am very sorry for that!" declared Tom.

"I regret it too, especially so far as you are concerned," admitted Mr.
Edson.

"I was getting on finely," said Tom in a disappointed tone.

"No reason why you shouldn't continue," declared the operator
encouragingly. "You have been strictly business all along, Tom. I want
to commend you for it, and I have sent for you to make you a business
proposition."

"A proposition?" repeated Tom wonderingly.

"Yes. You have got so that there is very little about the outfit here
that you do not understand. The transmitting and receiving end of it is
old history to you. In fact I am going to leave you here in entire
charge of the station."

"Oh, Mr. Edson!" exclaimed Tom, "I am afraid you rate me too highly."

"Not at all. You have got sense, patience, and you want to learn. As you
know, my starting the station here was a private enterprise, but it was
no idle fad. I expected to work something practicable and profitable out
of it. You can carry on the work."

"Why are you giving it up, sir, if I may ask?"

"I received a letter only an hour since, with an unexpected offer of a
very fine position with one of the operating wireless companies in
Canada. They expect me at a conference in New York City Friday, and I do
not doubt that I shall close an engagement with them. As I have told
you, I have very little capital. In fact, about all my surplus has been
invested in the station here."

Ben was looking around the place with his usual devouring glance. Tom
felt that some important disclosure was about to be made and was duly
impressed.

"There is a good chance for a live young fellow in a business that can
send a message hundreds of miles in a few seconds," continued Mr. Edson.
"The business is now only in its infancy, and those who get in first
have the best chance. The only hope here of the international circuit is
to make a killing."

"What do you mean by a killing, Mr. Edson?" inquired the big-eyed,
interested Ben.

"C