The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service | Page 3

himself in, looking more downcast than any boy in Brighton ever had seen him look before.
"No use," he informed his two friends, a choke in his voice. "They won't have me. I'm overweight."
"Oh, now, Slim, what are you worrying about that for? I don't believe any such thing," counseled Joe.
"It's true, though," affirmed Slim. "That's the worst part of it; I saw it in the book. I'm toting around about twenty pounds more than the government wants, and I'd have to stand on tiptoe in high-heel shoes to meet the requirement in height."
Poor Slim! He showed his disappointment in every look and every action.
"What kind of a book did you see it in?" asked Jerry, in a tone almost as sad as Slim's.
"In the manual," Slim groaned. "Herb Wallace showed it to me."
"That settles it," exclaimed Joe. "If Herb Wallace had a hand in it anywhere there's something wrong. I'll tell you what we'll do, fellows. We'll go and ask the headmaster."
Now the headmaster of Brighton had once been a boy himself. He could be stern, even cruelly severe, when occasion demanded, but he was kind of heart and broad of understanding.
Before him the three lads laid their case, as before the final tribunal.
"H'm," said he, when all the details had been related and the all-important information asked. "You say Herbert Wallace showed you this in a manual?"
Slim solemnly affirmed that that was the case.
The headmaster pushed a button on the side of his desk and in a few seconds his secretary, a big, bluff fellow, appeared.
"Bring Herbert Wallace here at once," said the headmaster. And in five more minutes, while the headmaster was shrewdly questioning the three lads as to the seriousness of their determination to enlist, the secretary returned, accompanied by young Wallace, flushed and shamefaced.
"Well, Wallace," said the principal of Brighton, "I hear you've been studying up on military subjects. Intending to get into the fight?"
Herbert Wallace hung his head and muttered an unintelligible reply.
"Now look here, Wallace," spoke the headmaster sternly, "where did you get the military manual from which you gave Goodwin the information that he could not pass the examination for the army?"
"I--I got it from the library, sir."
"Got it without permission, too, didn't you?" pursued the headmaster.
"Yes, sir," said Wallace, in confusion.
"And didn't know that it was out of date, and that the requirements were completely changed after the United States entered this war, eh?"
"No, sir," answered Wallace, on the verge of a breakdown.
"I'll decide upon your punishment later," announced the headmaster. "See me here at four o'clock. Meanwhile, Wallace, be careful where you get information, and be careful how you dispense it."
And Herbert Wallace, utterly humiliated, was glad to flee from the room.
"I don't think," said the headmaster, "that any of you will have difficulty passing the examinations. I dislike to see you go, but you speak the truth when you say that your country does need you, and I pay a great tribute of respect to you for the patriotism and courage with which you step forth to shoulder your obligations. Others already have gone from Brighton. Still others will go in the future. God bless all of you, and may you return safe and sound to reap the full benefits of the democracy for which you are going to fight."
The suspicion of tears dimmed the kindly eyes of the headmaster, and each boy choked up as he bade him good-by.
But, after all, this was no time for sadness. Young gladiators were going forth to the fray. And so we will skip over the farewells the following day, in which the parents of each lad, with many a heartache but never a word of discouragement, bade the boys Godspeed in the service of their country.
The three lads, together with fifteen others, formed a detachment of the recently enlisted who were to go to the Philadelphia Navy Yard for further assignment. Just before the train pulled out a students' parade that seemed to include every boy in Brighton marched to the station to see them off.
One of the lads carried a large transparency on which was printed:
"THEY BRIGHTEN THE FAME OF BRIGHTON"
And just as the train pulled out, and there was great cheering and waving of hats and handkerchiefs, Joe, Jerry and Slim, leaning from adjoining windows, sang out in chorus:
"For Uncle Sam."
CHAPTER II
INTO THE SERVICE--A SPY
A brilliant October morning was just breaking when a final bump of the train ended the none too musical snoring of Slim Goodwin and he came to a sitting posture, his first yawn almost instantly to give way to an exclamation of surprise.
It was strange scenery he was gazing upon, and for the moment he had forgotten where he was. The grinning faces of Joe and Jerry, whom he had awakened half an hour before with