The Radio Boys at the Sending Station Part 26

"There!" exclaimed Larry, at the end of that time. "I think you ought to get by all right now, Bob. You're doing fine."

"Well, if they don't like me, I can't help it," said Bob. "At any rate, they won't be able to throw any dead cats at me. That's one big advantage that radio entertainers have."

"That's true enough," laughed Larry, "although I hadn't thought about it before. Maybe I'd have had a poor p.u.s.s.y cat wrapped about my neck before this if I'd been doing my act in a regular theater."

"Nonsense!" replied Bob. "n.o.body threw anything at you when you were acting in a regular theater, did he?"

"No," admitted Larry. "That is, nothing except big bunches of American Beauty roses," he hastily added.

"Oh, of course, that's understood," gibed Joe. "I suppose you had to hire a big truck every evening to cart them away."

"Yes, every evening," grinned Larry. "And the applause----good gracious!

The people for blocks around used to complain about it."

"You don't get much applause now," laughed Bob. "How does it seem to perform for the benefit of a telephone transmitter instead of an audience?"

"It never bothered me much," replied Larry. "It seems to be pretty hard for some of the actors, though, especially the comedians. When they spring a funny joke they're used to hearing their audience laugh, and when they don't hear anything, they get peeved sometimes. They can't get used to the blank silence after their best efforts."

"I can easily understand how it would have that effect," said Bob. "It might save them a lot of trouble, though. Take the case of a black-face artist. He wouldn't need to put on any make-up at all, if he didn't want to."

"But if they don't, they don't feel natural, and it's apt to spoil their act. An actor is pretty temperamental, you know."

"Well, I'm beginning to feel that way myself," sighed Joe. "I wish it were time for us to spring our stuff on an unsuspecting public and get it over with. It must be pretty near time for the first number now, isn't it?"

"It sure is," answered Larry. "We'd better go on up to the transmitting room. The worst crime a public performer can commit is to be late, you know."

"And to think that I'm the poor fellow that's supposed to open the show!"

exclaimed Bob.

"My, I'll be as glad to get it over with as you will, Joe."

"That's saying a mouthful," replied his friend. "Oh, what a relief it will be!"

"If the audience can stand it, you two ought to be able to," said Larry, cruelly. "Quit your worrying."

"I guess if the audience can stand you, it won't mind us," returned Bob, giving Larry a friendly poke in the ribs. "Guess that will hold you a little while, old timer."

Before Larry could think of a suitable retort they had entered the transmitting room, and he had to postpone his reply for the time being.

Mr. Allard was already there.

"How do you feel?" he asked them, in greeting. "Probably a trifle nervous?"

"Just a little bit," Bob admitted. "I think we'll make out all right, though."

"Good!" replied the manager. "Don't get rattled, and you'll go over all right. From what Mr. Brandon has told me, you don't either of you rattle easily, though."

"We're ready any time you are, sir," was Bob's comment.

"All right, then," said Mr. Allard, crisply. "It's time now, Morton,"

addressing the announcer. "You can go ahead and announce Layton's act."

This the announcer did, and then, tense with excitement but thoroughly master of himself, Bob stepped to the transmitter and propounded the first of his conundrums. With book in hand, Larry stood at his elbow to prompt him in case he forgot anything, but his friendly services were not needed.

Bob went through the whole list without a mistake and with no fumbling, speaking clearly and distinctly into the transmitter. Although he could not see his audience, he nevertheless sensed the listening thousands, and felt the lift and exhilaration that come to the successful entertainer.

His part in the programme was short, a scant ten minutes, but he enjoyed every minute of it.

When he had asked the last riddle, he stepped back, and mopped big drops of perspiration from his face.

"Whew!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad that's over, although it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"You've got to go all through it again when you give the answers," Larry reminded him, cruelly.

"I guess I can stand it," said Bob. "Did I do it all right?"

"Sure you did," they all a.s.sured him. "It was good work."

In a little while the time came for Joe to give his recitations, and he, too, did good work. It was easy to see that the manager was pleased with both of them, and, indeed, he did not hesitate to say so.

"If you fellows didn't live so far away, I'd be glad to make you a regular part of the programme," he told them later. "You both have a good delivery, and I can see that Brandon was right when he said you didn't lack nerve. It's too bad you don't live in this town."

"I don't think we could do much along that line just now, anyway," said Bob, much pleased. "Between high school and building radio sets we don't have much time left over. We appreciate your giving us a chance on the bill to-night, though. We never dreamed of such a thing when we left the house this morning."

"I can't wait to get back to Clintonia to see what Herb and Jimmy have to say," remarked Joe. "I'll bet their eyes are sticking out now like a crab's."

The boys then said good-night to Mr. Allard and Larry, and took a somewhat hurried departure, as they had very little time left in which to make the last train for Clintonia.

Meantime, Herb and Jimmy had been treated to the surprise of their lives.

Shortly after supper Jimmy had whistled the familiar call in front of Herb's house, and when his friend had emerged had invited him to come to his house that evening.

"You know I've got my set rigged up now," he said, "the one that I entered for the Ferberton prize. It didn't win the prize, but it's a pretty good set all the same. There's a good radio programme on for this evening, and I suppose you want to hear it as much as I do."

"Yes, I certainly do," answered Herb. "Besides, if we hear Larry, we'll know that the three of them arrived at the other end on time. It will be almost as good as having them right here with us."

"Get your coat on, then, and we'll be going," said Jimmy. "It's not so far from seven o'clock, now."

Herb ran back into the house, and, emerging shortly afterward, joined his friend, and they set out for Jimmy's house.

"Conditions ought to be ideal for radio to-night," Herb remarked, as they walked along. "It's clear as a bell. There won't be enough static to-night to bother any one."

"So much the better," said Jimmy. "That set of mine doesn't get very good results when the static is bad. I thought it was the real thing once, but compared with the sets we've made since, I can see where it might be a lot better."

"Well, there aren't many things that are so good that they can't be improved," remarked Herb. "I suppose even if I set out to make a perfect set, I might fall a little short of the mark somewhere."

"That seems almost impossible, but of course you ought to know," replied Jimmy, with a grin,

"I only wish we had our set finished that we're working on now," said Herb. "Then we ought to get real results."

"It won't take us so very long now," returned Jimmy. "Most of the hard work is done, and all we have to do now is to a.s.semble it, I guess we can get busy at that pretty soon now."