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[Illustration: There was a sudden flash of flame and the roar of an
explosion.—_Page_ 52.]

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                                  THE
                             MOTOR RANGERS’
                            WIRELESS STATION


                                   BY
                              MARVIN WEST

          AUTHOR OF “THE MOTOR RANGERS’ LOST MINE,” “THE MOTOR
                RANGERS THROUGH THE SIERRAS,” “THE MOTOR
                   RANGERS ON BLUE WATER,” “THE MOTOR
                  RANGERS’ CLOUD CRUISER,” ETC., ETC.


                         _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
                           CHARLES L. WRENN_


                                NEW YORK
                            HURST & COMPANY
                               PUBLISHERS

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                            Copyright, 1913
                                   BY
                            HURST & COMPANY

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                                CONTENTS

      CHAPTER                                                PAGE
           I. THE WIRELESS ISLAND                               5
          II. A PASSENGER FOR THE SHORE                        15
         III. IN THE GRIP OF THE STORM                         28
          IV. WHEN THE ENGINE FAILED                           36
           V. NAT TO THE RESCUE                                48
          VI. SAVED FROM THE SEA                               56
         VII. ON “WIRELESS ISLAND”                             65
        VIII. AN AERIAL APPEAL                                 78
          IX. A STERN CHASE                                    91
           X. MORE BAD LUCK                                   100
          XI. “THERE’S MANY A SLIP”                           108
         XII. THE SMUGGLER AT BAY                             117
        XIII. TRAPPED!                                        125
         XIV. NAT A PRISONER                                  134
          XV. UNDER THE EARTH                                 145
         XVI. DRIFTING THROUGH THE NIGHT                      153
        XVII. ABOARD THE LIGHTSHIP                            164
       XVIII. JOE RECEIVES VISITORS                           176
         XIX. AND ALSO GETS A SURPRISE                        187
          XX. HANK EXPLAINS                                   201
         XXI. IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS                          213
        XXII. AN UNEXPECTED STUDENT                           221
       XXIII. A CALL FROM THE SHORE                           229
        XXIV. WHAT JOE DID                                    239
         XXV. LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT                       247
        XXVI. DING-DONG’S CLUE                                256
       XXVII. A LONELY TRAIL                                  265
      XXVIII. AT THE OLD MISSION                              276
        XXIX. CORNERED AT LAST                                291

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                           THE MOTOR RANGERS’
                            WIRELESS STATION




                               CHAPTER I.

                          THE WIRELESS ISLAND.


The drowsy calm of a balmy afternoon at the Motor Rangers’ wireless camp
on Goat Island was abruptly shattered by a raucous, insistent clangor
from the alarm-bell of the wireless outfit. Nat Trevor, Joe Hartley and
Ding-dong Bell, who had been pretending to read but were in reality
dozing on the porch of a small portable wood and canvas house,
galvanized into the full tide of life and activity usually theirs.

“Something doing at last!” cried Nat. “It began to look as if there
wouldn’t be much for us on the island but a fine vacation, lots of
sea-breeze and coats of tan like old russet shoes.”

“I ter-told you there’d be ser-ser-something coming over the
a-a-a-a-aerials before long,” sputtered Ding-dong Bell triumphantly,
athrill with excitement.

“What do you suppose it is?” queried Joe Hartley, his red, good-natured
face aglow.

“Don’t go up in the air, Joe,” cautioned Nat, “it’s probably nothing
more thrilling than a weather report from one of the chain of coast
stations to another.”

“Get busy, Ding-dong, and find out,” urged Joe Hartley; “let’s see what
sort of a message you can corral out of the air.”

But young Bell was already plodding across the sand toward a small
timber structure about fifty yards distant from the Motor Rangers’ camp.
Above the shack stretched, between two lofty poles, the antennæ of the
wireless station. Against these the electric waves from out of space
were beating and sounding the wireless “alarm-clock,” an invention of
Ding-dong’s of which he was not a little proud.

Ding-dong had become inoculated with the wireless fever as a result of
the trip east which the Motor Rangers had taken following their stirring
adventures in the Bolivian Andes in Professor Grigg’s air-ship—which
experiences were related in the fourth volume of this series, The Motor
Rangers’ Cloud Cruiser. On their return to California—where all three
boys lived, in the coast resort of Santa Barbara—nothing would suit
Ding-dong but that they take a vacation on Goat Island and set up a
wireless plant for experimental purposes.

“I want to try it and away from home where a bunch of fellows won’t be
hanging about and joking me if I make a fizzle,” he explained.

As the lads while in the east had done a lot of business, some of it
connected with Nat’s gold mine in Lower California and some with
interests of Professor Griggs, they decided that they were entitled to
at least a short period of inactivity, and Ding-dong’s idea was hailed
as a good one. Goat Island, a rugged, isolated spot of land shaped like
a splash of gravy on a plate, was selected as an ideal camping place.
The wireless appliances, shipped from San Francisco, were conveyed to
the island on board the Rangers’ sturdy cabin cruiser _Nomad_, and three
busy, happy weeks had been devoted to putting it in working order. Since
the day that it had been declared “O. K.” by Ding-dong, the lads had
been crazy for the “wireless alarm” to ring in, and when it failed to do
so Ding-dong came in for a lot of good-natured joshing.

For some further account of the three chums, we must