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"I don't know just why you can't. But I guess the wireless rigging on the yacht isn't like this radio thing you are going to set up. They use some sort of telegraph alphabet."
"I know," declared Jessie with conviction. "I'll tell Darry to put in a regular sending set--like the one I hope to have, if father will let me. And we can have our two sets tuned so that we can hear each other speak."
"My goodness! You don't mean it is as easy as all that?" cried Amy.
"Didn't you read that magazine article?" demanded her chum. "And didn't the man say that, pretty soon, we could carry receiving and sending sets in our pockets--maybe--and stop right on the street and send or receive any news we wanted to?"
"No, I sha'n't," declared Amy. "Pockets spoil the set of even a sports skirt. Where you going now?"
"In here. Mr. Brill sells electrical supplies as well as hardware. Oh!
Amy Drew! There is a radio set in his window! I declare, New Melford is advancing in strides!"
"Sure! In seven league boots," murmured Amy, following her friend into the store.
Jessie had noted down the things she thought it would be safe to order before speaking to her father about the radio matter. Mrs. Norwood had cheerfully given her consent. Amy had once said that if Jessie went to her mother and asked if she could have a pet plesiosaurus, Mrs.
Norwood would say:
"Of course, you may, dear. But don't bring it into the house when its feet are wet."
For the antenna and lead-in and ground wires, Jessie purchased three hundred feet of copper wire, number fourteen. The lightning switch Mr.
Brill had among his electric fixtures--merely a porcelain base, thirty ampere, single pole double throw battery switch. She also obtained the necessary porcelain insulators and tubes.
She knew there would be plenty of rope in the Norwood barn or the garage for their need in erecting the aerials. But she bought a small pulley as well as the ground connections which Mr. Brill had in stock.
He was anxious to sell her a complete set like that he was exhibiting in the show window; but Jessie would not go any farther than to order the things enumerated and ask to have them sent over the next morning.
The girls hurried home when they had done this, for it was verging on dinner time and they did not want to miss going with Nell Stanley and the Brandons to Parkville for the radio entertainment. Mr. Norwood was at home, and Jessie flew at him a good deal like an eager Newfoundland puppy.
"It is the most wonderful thing!" she declared, as she had introduced the subject to her chum.
She kept up the radio talk all through dinner. She was so interested that for the time being she forgot all about the girl that had been carried away in the automobile. Mr. Norwood had not been much interested in the new science; but he promised to talk the matter over with Momsy after their daughter had gone to the radio concert.
"Anyhow," said Jessie, "I've bought the books telling how to rig it.
And we're going to do it all ourselves--Amy and I. And Mr. Brill is going to send up some wire and things. Of course, if you won't let me have it, I'll just have to pay for the hardware out of my allowance."
"Very well," her father said with gravity. "Maybe Chapman can find some use for the hardware if we don't decide to build a radio station."
As they seldom forbade their daughter anything that was not positively harmful, however, there was not much danger that Jessie's allowance would be depleted by paying a share of the monthly hardware bill. Anyhow, Jessie as well as Amy, went off very gayly in the Brandon car with the minister's daughter. Mr. Brandon drove his own car, and the girls sat in the tonneau with Mrs. Brandon, who did not seem by any means a very old lady, even if she was a grandmother.
"But grandmothers nowadays aren't crippled up with rheumatism and otherwise decrepit," declared Amy, the gay. "You know, I think it is rather nice to be a grandmother these days. I am going to matriculate for the position just as soon as I can."
They rolled out of town, and just as they turned off the boulevard to take another road to Parkville, a big car pa.s.sed the Brandon automobile coming into town. It was being driven very rapidly, but very skillfully, and the car was empty save for the driver.
"What beautiful cars those French cars are," Mrs. Brandon said.
"Did you see her, Jess?" cried Amy, excitedly. "Look at her go!"
"Do you speak of the car or the lady?" laughed Nell Stanley.
"She is no lady, I'd have you know," Amy rejoined scornfully. "Didn't you know her when she pa.s.sed, Jess?"
"I thought it was the car," her chum admitted. "Are you sure that was the woman who ran off with the girl?"
"One of them," declared Amy, with confidence. "And how she can drive!"
Naturally Mrs. Brandon and Nell wished to know the particulars of the chums' adventure. But none of them knew who the strange woman who drove the French car was.
"She is not at all nice, at any rate," Jessie said emphatically. "I really wish there was some way of finding out about that girl they carried off, and what became of her."
STRINGING THE AERIALS
CHAPTER IV
STRINGING THE AERIALS
Parkville was reached within a short time. It was still early evening.
The girls from Roselawn and their host and hostess found a number of neighbors already gathered in the drawing-room, to listen to the entertainments broadcasted from several radio stations.
They were too late for the bedtime story; but from the cabinet-grand, like an expensive talking machine, the slurring notes of a jazz orchestra greeted their ears as plainly as though it were coming from a neighboring room instead of a broadcasting station many miles away.
Amy confessed that it made her feet itch. She loved to dance.
There was singing to follow, a really good quartette. Then a humorist told some of his own funny stories and an elocutionist recited a bit from Shakespeare effectively. The band played a popular air and the amused audience began singing the song. It was fine!
"I'm just as excited as I can be," whispered Jessie to Nell and Amy.
"Isn't it better than our talking machine? Why! it is almost like hearing the real people right in the room. And an amplifier of this kind is not scratchy one bit."
"There is no static to-night," said Mr. Brandon, who overheard the enthusiastic girl. "But it is not always so clear."
Jessie and Amy were too excited over this new amus.e.m.e.nt to heed anything that suggested "a fly in the ointment." When they drove home they were so full of radio that they chattered like magpies.
"I would put up the aerials and get a set myself," Nell declared, "only we don't really need any more talking machines of any kind at our house. Dear me! I sometimes wonder how the Reverend can write his sermons, there is so much noise and talk all the time. I have tacked felt all around his study door to try to make it sound-proof. But when Bob comes in he bangs the outer door until you are reminded of the Black Tom explosion. And Fred never comes downstairs save on his stomach--and on the banisters--and lands on the doormat like a load of brick out of a dumpcart. Then Sally squeals so!" She sighed.
"Nell Stanley," Amy said, "certainly has her own troubles."
"I do not see how the doctor stands it," commented Mrs. Brandon sympathetically.
"The Reverend is the greatest man in the world," declared Nell, with conviction. "He is wonderful. He takes the most annoying things so composedly. Why, you remember when he went to Bridgeton a month ago to speak at the local Sunday School Union? Something awfully funny happened. It would have floored any man but the Reverend."
"What happened?" asked Amy. "I bet it was a joke. Your father, Nell, always tells the most delightful stories."
"This isn't a story. It is so," chuckled Nell. "But I suppose that was why they asked him to amuse and entertain the little folks at one session of the Union. Father talked for fifteen minutes, all about Jacob's ladder, and those old stories. And not a kid of 'em went to sleep.
"He said he was proud to see them so wide awake, and when he was closing he thought he would find out if they really had been attentive. So he said: