The Young Wireless Operator-As a Fire Patrol Part 1

The Young Wireless Operator--As a Fire Patrol.

by Lewis E. Theiss.

Foreword

Boys and dogs go well together. So do boys and trees. When a boy gets to love the forest and can live in it, that is best of all. For the forest makes real boys and real men.

Not only does the forest do that, but it keeps the Nation alive. No one can eat a meal without the help of the forest, for it takes more than half the wood cut every year in the United States to enable the farmer to grow the food and the fibres to feed and clothe the Nation. No one can live in a house without the help of the forest, for whether we speak of it as a wooden house, a brick house, a stone house, or a concrete house, still there is wood in it, and without wood it could not have been built.

We are apt to think of the city dwellers as people who are not dependent on the forest. As a matter of fact, they are the most dependent of all, for the cities would be deserted, the houses empty, and the streets dead, except for the things which could not be grown nor mined nor manufactured nor transported without the help of wood from the forest.

Pennsylvania--Penn's Woods--is the greatest industrial commonwealth in the world. Without its woods, it could never have been made so. Unless its woods are restored, it cannot continue to be so, and unless forest fires are stopped, there is no way to restore Penn's Woods.

I have read "The Young Wireless Operator--As a Fire Patrol" with the keenest interest, not only because it is about the forest, but because it is a thrillingly interesting story of a real boy and the real things he did in the woods. I like it from end to end, and that is why, when Mr.

Theiss asked me to write this foreword, I gladly consented.

No one loves the woods more than I, as boy and man, or loves to be in them better. One of the things I want most is to see more and better forests in our great State of Pennsylvania, and in the whole United States. Without our forests we could not have become great, nor can we continue to be so.

For the men and boys who love the forest and understand it are of the kind without whom great nations are impossible.

Gifford Pinchot.

Chapter I

Vacation Plans

Charley Russell sat before a table in the workshop in his father's back yard. In front of him were the s.h.i.+ning instruments of his wireless outfit--his coupler, his condenser, his helix, his spark-gap, and the other parts, practically all of which he had made with his own hands.

Ordinarily he would have looked at them fondly, but now he gave them hardly a thought. He was waiting for his chum, Lew Heinsling, and his mind was busy with the problem of his own future. Charley was a senior in high school and was pondering over the question of what the world had in store for him. While he sat meditating, Lew arrived. In his hand was a copy of the New York Sun and Herald. He held it out to Charley and pointed to the marine news.

"The Lycoming reaches New York to-day," he said. "Roy will send us a wireless message to-night. Gee! I wish we had a battery strong enough to talk back."

But Charley paid slight heed to the suggestion. Instead he said: "Roy Mercer's a lucky dog. Think of being the wireless man on a big ocean steamer when you're only nineteen. I wish I knew what I am going to do after I graduate from high school."

Roy Mercer, like Charley and Lew, was a member of the Camp Brady Wireless Patrol. With his fellows he had taken part in the capture of the German spies who were trying to dynamite the Elk City reservoir and so wreck a great munitions centre during the war; and with three other members of the Wireless Patrol, especially selected for their skill in wireless, he had later gone to New York with their leader, Captain Hardy, to a.s.sist the government Secret Service in its search for the secret wireless that was keeping the German Admiralty informed of the movements of American vessels.

His fellows both envied and loved him. Roy warmly returned their affection, and his vessel never came into port that he did not, regularly at nine o'clock in the evening, flash out some message of greeting to his former comrades of the Wireless Patrol. It was always a one-sided conversation, however, because none of the boys in the Wireless Patrol owned a battery powerful enough to carry a message from Central City to New York. Just now each lad was engaged in trying to earn money so that the club could buy a battery or dynamo strong enough for this purpose. So each boy was working at any job he could pick up after school, and saving all he earned. Both Charley and Lew had already earned more than their share of the purchase money.

"You never can tell what will happen," said Lew presently. "Who ever expected Roy to get the job he has? You may land in another just as good.

You stand pretty near the head of your cla.s.s, and everybody knows you're a corking good wireless operator."

"I can tell well enough what will happen, Lew. The minute I'm out of high school, I'll have to go to work with Dad in Miller's factory. Gee! How I hate the place! Think of working nine hours a day in such a dirty, smoky, noisy old hole, where you can't get a breath of fresh air, or see the sky, or hear the birds. Just to think about it is enough to make a fellow feel blue."

"But maybe you won't have to go into the factory at all," argued Lew.

"Maybe you can find some other job you like better."

"No, I shall have to go into the factory," repeated Charley sadly. "Dad says I've got to get to work the minute I've graduated, and earn the most money possible. And there's no other place where I can get as much as they pay at Miller's. Dad says I can get two-fifty a day at the start and maybe three dollars."

Charley paused and sighed, then added, "What's three dollars a day if you have to be penned up like an animal to earn it? I'd rather take half as much if I could work out in the open and do something I like."

"Why don't you tell your father so?"

"I have--dozens of times. But he says it isn't a question of what I want to do. It's a question of making the most money possible and helping him.

He says he's supported me for more than eighteen years and now I have to help him for a year or two anyway."

"That's a shame!" cried Lew.

"No, it isn't, Lew," explained Charley. "It's all right about helping Dad.

He's been mighty good to me, and he's in the hole now. You see, Dad and Mother have been married twenty years and Dad's worked hard all this time and saved his money to build a house. And just about the time Dad was ready to begin building, prices began to go up. Dad held off, thinking they would drop. But they got higher instead, and finally Dad told the carpenters to go ahead, lest prices should go higher still. Now the house is going to cost almost double what Dad expected it would, and the awful prices of everything else take every cent Dad can earn. With such a big mortgage on the place, Dad says he's just got to have my help or he may lose the house and all he has saved in those twenty years. It's all right about helping Dad, Lew. I want to do that, but I can't bear to think of going to work in that factory."

"It's too bad, Charley. I had hoped so much that we could go to college together."

"Lew, if I could go to college I'd work my head off to do it. You know that. If only I could go to college and learn about the birds and flowers and rocks and trees and animals, I'd be willing to do anything--even to work in Miller's factory for a time. But Dad will need every cent I can earn until I am twenty-one, and I can't see how I can possibly go to college."

"Never mind, Charley. You never can tell what will happen. Look at Roy. He was worse off than you are, for his father died suddenly and Roy had to care for both himself and his mother. And see what came of it. He isn't much older than we are, yet he's got a fine job. Just keep your eyes open and you may pick up something, too."

"It'll have to come quick, then," sighed Charley. "Here it is almost Easter vacation, and I am to graduate in June. This will probably be the last vacation I shall have in a long time."

"Then let's enjoy this vacation. I've been thinking what we could do, and it occurred to me that it would be lots of fun for the Wireless Patrol to make a trip up the river to that old camp of ours. It won't be too cold to camp out if we take out our tents and our little collapsible stoves.

Suckers ought to be running good and we can catch a fine mess of fish, take a hike or two, and have a bully trip up the river and back. Let's go tell the rest of the fellows."

Lew jumped up and started for the door. Then he stopped suddenly and a look of disappointment came over his face. "I'll bet none of 'em can go,"

he said. "They've all got jobs for the vacation. I'm glad we've got our money earned."

"I just thought of another difficulty," sighed Charley. "Not one of us owns a boat."

"We can borrow one," said Lew.

"I hate to borrow things," replied Charley. "You remember how I borrowed old man Packer's bob-sled and broke it and then had to pay to have it remade. No more borrowing for me."

"Why can't we make a boat? There's plenty of time between now and vacation. If we do the work ourselves, it oughtn't to cost more than two or three dollars and then we'd have a boat of our own."

"Bully!" cried Charley. "We can make it as good as anybody. We'll do it."

"All right. I'll go down-town and find the price of oars and rowlocks, and you go over to Hank Cooley's and find out how his father made that boat of his. It's a dandy and just what we need."

The two boys rushed off in opposite directions, each full of enthusiasm over the plan to build a new boat and make a trip up the river during their Easter vacation.

Chapter II