The Radio Boys at the Sending Station - Part 8
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Part 8

"I don't know that you're very famous for bright ideas, Jimmy, so where do you get off to criticize?" asked Herb.

"Huh! I've got an idea in my noddle right now that's worth half a dozen of yours."

"Prove it!" replied Herb, promptly. "What is this bright idea?"

"Well, you know that just about this time they cook nice, hot doughnuts down at Mattatuck's bakery. Delicious doughnuts! Um, yum!" and Jimmy's round countenance a.s.sumed a rapturous expression.

"And the idea was, that you'd go down there and blow the crowd to hot doughnuts, was it?" queried Joe.

"Blow, nothing!" exclaimed Jimmy. "We'll all chip in. But I don't mind going after them."

"The trouble is--can we trust you not to eat them all on the way back?"

Bob laughed.

"Anybody that doesn't think so can go for his own doughnuts," replied Jimmy. "Kick in there, you hobos, and I'll be on my way. I'm getting hungrier every minute."

His friends, thus adjured, "kicked in," and Jimmy set off at a rate of speed much above his usual leisurely gait. The bakery was three or four blocks away, but Jimmy returned in a surprisingly short time with a large bag of tender doughnuts, still warm from the bakery.

"Wow!" exclaimed Joe, as Jimmy tore open the bag. "The sight of those doughnuts certainly makes a fellow feel hungry."

"Dig into them, fellows," was Jimmy's only comment, as he reached for one himself.

They all followed this example, and the pile of crisp brown doughnuts dwindled with surprising rapidity.

"Likely enough these will keep me awake half the night, but it's worth it," said Jimmy, with a sigh of contentment, as he finished the last crumb of his fourth doughnut. "I don't feel near as hungry as I did, anyway."

"I should hope that you didn't feel hungry at all, old greedy," laughed Joe. "I'm beginning to think that it's impossible to fill you up any more."

"Oh, lay off!" retorted Jimmy. "You Indians ate your full share, I notice."

"I guess we're all in the same boat," agreed Bob. "But now that we're fed up and feeling strong, how would you like to practice sending for awhile?

I was just beginning to work up a little speed while we were at Ocean Point, but now I suppose I'm getting rusty again. Who's game to send? I'll bet n.o.body can send faster than I can receive."

"I'm willing to try it, anyway," said Joe, picking up a magazine. "I'll send right out of this magazine, so when you say 'stop' we'll be able to check up how much you've caught."

"All right, that's fair enough," agreed Bob. "Just wait a minute until I get a paper and pencil, then shoot as fast as you can."

Seating himself at the table, with a blank sheet of paper before him, Bob made ready to scribble at high speed, while Herb held a watch to time him.

As for Jimmy, he was content to curl up on a sofa and act the part of self-appointed judge.

"Start sending as soon as you like, Joe," said, Jimmy. "I'm all ready for you. I'll bet I can fall asleep before you can send fifty words."

"I wouldn't take that bet, because I believe you can," replied Joe. "I'd be betting against your specialty, and there's no percentage in that, you know."

"Don't forget me, though, will you?" said Bob, in a resigned tone. "I don't want to hurry you, but any time you're both through that interesting conversation I'm waiting to begin."

"All right, then, here goes!" said Joe, and started sending as rapidly as he could with the practice key and buzzer.

Bob's pencil fairly flew over the paper, and for five minutes there was no sound in the room save the strident buzz of the sender and the whisper of Bob's pencil as it moved rapidly over the paper.

Then, "Time," called Herb, and Bob threw down the pencil.

"Whew!" he exclaimed, reaching for a handkerchief. "That's pretty hot work, if any one should ask you. Count 'em up, Herb, will you, and see how many there are? Seems to me there must be a million words there, more or less."

"Quite a little less," laughed Herb, after he had counted the words as requested. "But you've written ninety-one, which is mighty good."

"That's a little over sixteen a minute," said Bob. "It's not near as fast as I want to get, but it's fast enough to get a license, anyway."

"You bet it is!" exclaimed Herb. "And there are very few mistakes," he added, as he compared what Bob had written with the magazine text.

"Joe's getting to be some bear at sending, too," remarked Bob.

"Oh, the sending is a lot easier than receiving," said Joe. "But now, if you don't mind, Bob, you can send me something, and I'll see how fast I can take it. I'm afraid I can't come up to your record, though."

Joe did very well, however, averaging about fourteen words a minute.

Then Herb took a turn at sending and receiving, as did Jimmy, and they both did well. The boys found it all very fascinating, as well as useful, and discussed many plans for the future, although they did not intend to go in much for sending until they had perfected a first-cla.s.s receiving set. They agreed before parting for the night that they would meet the following day after school at the radio supply store, where they could buy some audion bulbs and whatever other apparatus they might need.

CHAPTER VIII

A RATTLING FIGHT

"h.e.l.lo, Bob! what kept you so late?" called Joe. He and Herb and Jimmy had been waiting some time for their friend, and were beginning to think that he must have forgotten the appointment made the previous night.

"It's a wonder I got here as soon as I did," replied Bob. His face was flushed, and there was an angry gleam in his eyes. "I thought I'd have to lick Carl Lutz before I could get here; but he didn't have quite nerve enough to start anything, as he was all alone. I only wish he had."

"What happened?" asked Joe. "Tell us about it."

"When I came out this afternoon, Carl was standing just outside the schoolyard gate, teasing that little Yates kid, whose brother was killed in the Argonne fighting. If Bill had been alive, you can bet Carl would have left the kid brother alone, but as it was, he was bullying him and trying to make him carry a big package for him."

"Just like the big coward!" exclaimed Joe, indignantly.

"You said it!" replied Bob. "Well, of course, I wasn't going to stand for anything like that, and I made him quit. He got so mad that I really thought he was going to swing at me, but he didn't quite have the nerve.

He went off muttering something about getting the gang after me, and I took the Yates kid with me for a few blocks to make sure that he would get home all right."

"Good for you!" said Joe. "That's just like Carl, to pick on a kid that has n.o.body to fight his battles for him and is too small to fight his own.

I'm glad you were around to take the kid's part."

"I suppose Carl will run right to Buck, now, and they'll hatch up some scheme to get even with you," remarked Herb.

"I don't care what they do," returned Bob. "It's too bad there's a bunch like that in this town. They're a regular nuisance."

"We've done all we could to teach them manners," said Joe. "I guess the trouble is, they don't want to learn."