The Radio Boys First Wireless | Page 2

you fellows chinning about?" asked Jimmy Plummer, one of their schoolmates, who came up to them at that moment. "You seem all worked up about something."
"It's about that talk Dr. Dale is going to give us to-night on the wireless telephone," answered Bob, as he edged over a little to give Jimmy room to walk beside them. "You're going, aren't you? The doctor said he wanted all the boys to come who could."
"Do you suppose there'll be any eats?" asked Jimmy, who was round and fat, and who went by the nickname of "Doughnuts" among his mates because of his fondness for that special delicacy.
"Always thinking of that precious stomach of yours!" laughed Bob. "Jimmy, I'm ashamed of you. You're getting so fat now that pretty soon you won't have to walk to school. You can just roll there like a barrel."
"You string beans are only jealous because I get more fun out of eating than you do," declared Jimmy, with a grin. "But eats or no eats, I'm going to hear what the doctor has to say. I got a letter the other day from a cousin of mine out in Michigan, and he told me all about a set that he'd made and put up himself. Said he was just crazy about it. Wanted me to go into it so that he and I might talk together. Of course, though, I guess he was just kidding me about that. Michigan's a long way off, and it takes more than a day to get there on a train."
"Distance doesn't make much difference," declared Bob. "Already they've talked across the Atlantic Ocean."
"Not amateurs?" objected Joe incredulously.
"Yes, even amateurs," affirmed Bob. "My dad was reading in the papers the other night about a man in New Jersey who was talking to a friend near by and told him that he was going to play a phonograph record for him. A man over in Scotland, over three thousand miles away, heard every word he said and heard the music of the phonograph too. A ship two thousand miles out on the Atlantic heard the same record, and so did another ship in a harbor in Central America. Of course, the paper said, that was only a freak, and amateur sets couldn't do that once in a million times. But it did it that time, all right. I tell you, fellows, that wireless telephone is a wonder. Talk about the stories of the Arabian Nights! They aren't in it."
There was a loud guffaw behind the lads, accompanied by snickers, and the friends turned around to see three boys following them.
One of them, who was apparently the leader of the trio, was a big, unwieldy boy of sixteen, a year older and considerably larger than Bob and Joe. His eyes were close together, and he had a look of coarseness and arrogance that denoted the bully. Buck Looker, as he was called--his first name was Buckley--was generally unpopular among the boys, but as he was the son of one of the richest men of the town he usually had one or two cronies who hung about him for what they could get. One of these, Carl Lutz, an unwholesome looking boy, somewhat younger than Buck, was walking beside him, and on the side nearer the curb was Terry Mooney, the youngest of the three, a boy whose, furtive eyes carried in them a suggestion of treachery and sneakiness.
"What's the joke, Buck?" asked Bob coldly, as he looked from one to the other of the sniggering faces.
"You're the joke," answered Buck insolently; "that is, if you believe all that stuff I heard you pulling off just now. You must be easy if you fall for that."
"I wasn't talking to you," replied Bob, restraining himself with some difficulty. "But since you've butted in, perhaps you'll tell me just what it is that's so funny about the wireless telephone."
"The whole thing is bunk, if you ask me," replied Buck with the confidence that so often goes with ignorance. "Telephoning without wires! You might as well talk of walking without legs."
This argument seemed to him so overpowering that he swelled out his chest and looked triumphantly at his two companions, whose faces instantly took on the same expression.
"You made a ten strike that time, Buck," declared Lutz, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Hit the target right in the bull's-eye," chimed in Terry, with a smirk.
Bob and Joe and Jimmy looked at each other, and, despite their resentment, had all they could do to keep from breaking into laughter.
Buck noticed their amused expression, and his coarse face grew red and mottled.
"Well," he demanded, "what have you got to say to that? Am I right or ain't I?"
"You're wrong," replied Joe promptly. "Dead wrong. You're so far from the truth that