The Boys of the Wireless Part 2

"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, pa.s.sing 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 sh.o.r.e 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.

"Catching a stray message and making a home shot with it. The fellow who saved an ocean liner last week by sending help quick, just when needed, got more pay in one hour than many people earn in a lifetime. Now then, Tom, as to my proposition."

"Yes, sir," nodded Tom, eagerly.

"I want you to buy me out."

"To buy you out?" repeated Tom slowly and in a puzzled way.

"That's it."

"You mean with money?" put in the ever-attentive Ben.

"It's got to be money, I am obliged to say," replied Mr. Edson. "I shall need all the ready cash I can get hold of in taking my new position, for I have a lot of debts to clean up. Between you and me, Tom, I can sell the outfit here to certain people, but it would throw you out. Of course, I don't expect you, a boy to have any great amount of money to invest, but I had an idea that some of your relatives or friends might help you."

Tom was silent, deeply thoughtful for a minute or two. His eyes wandered wistfully over the apparatus that so fascinated him. Then, very timorously, he asked:

"How much would it take, Mr. Edson?"

"One hundred dollars to you, Tom," said Mr. Edson.

Ben squirmed. Tom's voice was quite tremulous as he inquired:

"How soon would you have to have the money?"

"By next Tuesday."

"Will you give me till then to-to try?" asked Tom.

"Surely. I hope you can make it, Tom. I like you very much. You are the right sort, and I think you should be encouraged in your interest in the wireless. I'll show you just what the equipment here is."

Ben voted the hour that followed the most interesting of his life. For the first time in his career he began to get a faint conception of spark lengths, spark voltage, condensers, circuits, vibrators, grounds, concentric radiations, wire cores and armatures. He had been dabbling for over a week with both Morse and the Continental alphabets, and when Tom mentioned the possibility of establishing a sub-station at the Dixon home instead of at the old blasted oak, Mr. Edson was quite encouraging, and offered to contribute some of the equipment necessary to carry out the idea.

The expert operator engrossed the attention of the boys. It was a ramble in a field of rare delight as they pa.s.sed from one part of the wireless mechanism to another.

"Now then, sit down, boys, for a few minutes," said Mr. Edson at length.

"I don't want you to buy a pig in a poke. There are a couple of attachments that go with the station, and you should know about them."

"Attachments?" repeated Ben.

"What are they, Mr. Edson?" inquired Tom with curiosity.

"Spooks," was the ominous reply.