The Radio Boys at Mountain Pass: or, The Midnight Call for Assistance

“A snowslide!” Joe, who was standing close to Bob, heard him mutter. “Those girls had a narrow escape to keep from being buried entirely!”

The next moment he was dashing off in the direction of the two prisoners, shouting encouragement to Mrs. Salper. The others were close at his heels.

“We’ll get you out all right,” he called to the frightened girls, who had stopped their struggling and were looking at him hopefully. “Just keep still for a moment and save your breath. We’ll have you out of there in a jiffy.

“Dig, fellows, for all you’re worth,” he added to the boys, who, as usual, looked to him for directions. “These girls must be pretty cold by this time.”

For answer the boys did dig manfully, the imprisoned girls helping them as much as they could with their numb fingers, and before many minutes they had the snow cleared away sufficiently to be able to struggle through it to a spot where it was not so deep. The girls were, of course, Edna and Ruth Salper, the pretty daughters of the Wall Street broker.

Edna and Ruth were trembling with cold and with the shock of their recent accident, and Mrs. Salper ran to them, putting an arm about each of them protectingly and pouring out thanks to the embarrassed boys.

“That’s all right,” said Bob, modestly. “We couldn’t very well have done anything else, you know. I hope,” he added with a glance at the shivering girls, “that the girls won’t take cold.”

“They will if I don’t get them home quickly,” said Mrs. Salper, adding, with a worried frown: “I wish we hadn’t come so far from the house.”

It was then that Joe broke in.

“I tell you what,” he said, eagerly. “It isn’t far to Mountain Rest – ”

“And there’s sure to be a fire in the grate up there,” Bob finished for him.

“And it’s a fire that will warm you up in a jiffy,” added Herb with his most friendly smile.

“If we can only make it,” sighed Mrs. Salper.

The radio boys knew of a short cut from this spot to Mountain Rest and along this they led the others as swiftly as they were able to travel. And on the way they learned how it was that the girls had happened to be in such a predicament.

“I shouldn’t have let them do it.” It was Mrs. Salper who told the story. The two girls were still too shaken from their adventure to say anything. All they could think of was the comforting shelter of a room and an open grate fire.

“They wanted to climb up that little hill to see what was on the other side of it,” the lady went on to explain. “I didn’t want them to, for I saw that the snow was deep. But they were in wild spirits, wouldn’t listen to me, said I didn’t need to come if I didn’t want to – which I didn’t! – and off they went.

“When they had nearly reached the top Edna started to fall – ”

“No, it was Ruth, Mother,” corrected the girl, showing the first sign of returning interest.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” said Mrs. Salper, with a sigh. “The result was the same. One of them clutched at the other and they both toppled down the hill. Their fall must have loosened a mass of the drifted snow and it came down on top of them. Heavens!” she shuddered at the memory. “It seemed as if the whole mountain side were falling on top of them! I thought they would be completely buried!”

“Well, we were, almost,” said Ruth, chafing her cold hands to bring the circulation back into them. “Anyway,” she added with a stiff smile, “I feel almost as frozen as if I had been!”

CHAPTER XVI – THE MODERN MIRACLE

“I bet you’re cold,” said Bob, sympathetically. “Never mind, we’ll have you warmed up in a jiffy now.”

As a matter of fact, the big hotel was even then looming before them, and in a moment more they entered its doors, to find to their delight that a roaring fire was burning in the grate of the big living room.

The two girls rushed to it joyfully, holding out their chilled hands to the blaze, snuggling to its warmth like two half-frozen kittens.

They happened to have the big room all to themselves at that moment, and, after having drawn chairs up to the fire for Mrs. Salper and the girls, the boys excused themselves and hurried back to the spot where they had dropped their bags of nuts when the cry for help had interrupted them in their occupation.

“Never do to lose the fruits of our labor,” said Herb, grinning, as he picked up his own particular bag.

The other boys did likewise, and they were soon hurrying back to the hotel again, talking excitedly about the rescue of the Salper girls.

“It’s mighty lucky we happened to be near enough to hear the cries for help,” said Joe, soberly. “It would have been pretty hard for them to have forced their way through those drifts alone, half numbed as they were.”

“Yes,” agreed Bob. “It’s pretty nice to think of them warm and snug before the fire just now.”

“Queer,” observed Jimmy as they neared the house, “that we should have been talking about them just at the time the thing happened.”

“Queer,” said Herb patronizingly, “but not half so queer, Doughnuts, as the modern miracles that happen every day – ”

“Take radio, for instance,” finished Bob, and they entered the hotel laughing.

They found the two girls recovered from their fright and quite a good deal happier than they had been a few minutes before. They regarded the radio boys with interest, and it was clear that the girls and Mrs. Salper had been talking about them during their absence.

“You’re often called the ‘radio boys,’ aren’t you?” challenged Edna, as the boys drew chairs up to the fire.

“Why, I guess so,” said Bob, with a smile. “Lots of folks call us that.”

“Dad was up at the radio station the other day and the operator there was enthusiastic about you,” said Ruth Salper, in her direct way. “Said that if you kept on the way you were going, you would soon know more about radio than he does himself.”

“That’s mighty nice of him, but I’m afraid he was boosting us too high,” replied Bob, trying hard not to show how pleased he was.

“That fellow at the station has forgotten more about radio than we ever knew,” added Joe modestly, but in his heart he was as pleased at the praise as Bob was. It is always nice to receive commendation from some one who is an authority.

“You’re very modest,” teased Edna gaily. “But when dad says anything nice about anybody he generally means it. He doesn’t say nice things very often – ” She caught a glance of reproof from her mother and bit her lip penitently.

“You mustn’t say unkind things about your father, Edna,” said Mrs. Salper, gently. “You know he is worn to death with business worries. If we could once succeed in making him forget his responsibilities, he would be as jolly and fun-loving as he used to be.”

“Yes, dad used to be no end of fun,” said Ruth, adding, with a fierce little frown and a clenching of her fists; “I just wish I could get hold of whoever’s worrying him so. I’d give them something to worry about for a change.”

Then, seeming to realize that the boys might not be interested in her personal affairs – though as a matter of fact they were interested, extremely so – the girl tactfully turned the conversation to something which she thought might interest them.

“Could we see your radio set?” she asked, impulsively. “We’d just love to have you tell us about it. As much as we could understand,” she added, with a smile for the boys.

Mrs. Salper protested feebly, but so eager were the boys to show off their set to the girl radio fans that her opposition was overcome almost at once.

Then followed a happy hour during which the radio boys talked learnedly of condensers and amplifiers and different kinds of receivers until the admiration of the girls mounted almost to awe.

“My, but it sounds worse than Greek!” cried Edna Salper once, as she bent absorbedly over the apparatus that worked such miracles and bore such high-sounding names. “This is the tuning apparatus, isn’t it?” she asked, gingerly touching the wire coil. “It seems almost impossible that you can tune to any wave length with this thing, just as the piano tuner can tune the wires of his instrument to the proper sound vibration.”

“It – the whole thing – seems impossible,” added Ruth, while Mrs. Salper found herself quite as interested as her daughters.

“Yes, that’s the way it seemed to us at first,” agreed Bob, his eyes shining. “When Doctor Dale told us we could make a set for ourselves we could hardly believe him. But it didn’t seem a bit hard once we got started and learned the hang of it.”

“You mean to say that you made this set yourselves?” asked Mrs. Salper, with interest.

“Oh, this is nothing. We’ve made lots of ’em,” said Jimmy proudly, at which Herb promptly kicked him under the table. The injured Jimmy glared at his assailant, but the others were too much interested in the subject to notice him.

“You see this is a comparatively small set,” Bob explained.

“But we’re working on a powerful apparatus now,” broke in Joe eagerly. “And when we have that in working shape we’ll be able to send as well as receive.”

“Well, I think you’re just as smart as father said you were,” said Ruth, and at this candid compliment the confused boys thought it time to change the subject.

“How about listening in a while?” suggested Bob, struck by a sudden inspiration. “We ought to be just about in time to catch the afternoon concert – if there is one. Would you like to find out?”

“Would we?” cried Edna, enthusiastically. “Indeed we would!”

“Just try us,” added Ruth happily.

So the boys showed them how to fit the head-phones, not using the loudspeaker they had made from the phonograph horn, and adjusted the tuning apparatus to the proper wave length, and the girls answered to the thrill of catching music magically from the ether just as the boys had done on that never-to-be-forgotten evening when their first concert had reached them over the wires of their first receiving set. Crude it seemed to them now in the light of later improvements, but an instrument of magic it had been to them that night.

No wonder that the boys felt a warm and real friendship for the Salper girls – and Mrs. Salper, too – a friendship that would have been surprising, considering the shortness of their acquaintance, had it not been that they were all radio fans, dyed in the wool.

So quickly did the time fly that Mrs. Salper was amazed and apologetic when she found how long they had lingered.

“We must hurry!” she exclaimed, starting toward the door, the girls reluctantly following. “Your father will surely think we are all lost in a snowdrift.”

“Which two of us came very near being,” added Edna, with a laugh.

“Don’t joke about it,” said Ruth, with a shiver. “I must say being buried in a snowdrift wasn’t very pleasant – while it lasted.”

The radio boys insisted upon accompanying the Salpers home, explaining that they could show them the shortest path. Gaily they started out and before they had reached the Salper place the friendship which had begun the evening of the concert with their mutual interest in radio, became steadily stronger.

It was plain that, besides being grateful to them for having come to the help of the girls, Mrs. Salper liked the boys for their own sakes.

When they reached the house she begged them to come in with her so that Mr. Salper might have the opportunity of thanking them for their kindness.

The boys skillfully avoided accepting this invitation by pointing out that it was getting late and the path would be hard to find in the dusk.

“Thanks ever so much for everything,” Ruth Salper called after them as they started off, and Edna added:

“We’re going to frighten dad into getting us a radio set by threatening to make one ourselves!”

“I shouldn’t wonder if they could make a set, at that,” said Bob thoughtfully, as they tramped on alone. “They’re smart enough.”

“For girls,” added Herb, condescendingly.

Whereupon Jimmy turned and eyed him scornfully.

“Say, where do you get that stuff?” he jeered. “If those girls couldn’t make a better radio set than you, I’d sure feel sorry for them.”

“Ha! I’ll wash your face for saying that,” was the quick answer, and the next instant Jimmy felt some snow on his ear. Then began a snow battle between all the boys which lasted until they reached the hotel.

CHAPTER XVII – THRASHING A BULLY

After that the boys saw a good deal of Edna and Ruth Salper. The latter were thoroughly good sports and entered into the fun of the moment with such enthusiasm that the radio boys declared they were lots more fun than a good many of the fellows they knew.

They went nutting together, tramped through the woods, read together the latest discoveries in the radio field, until the girls became almost as great enthusiasts as the boys.

The boys were often asked to visit the Salper home, but it was seldom that they took advantage of these invitations.

“It would be pleasant enough,” Herb declared, “if only grouchy Mr. Salper were not always around to put a damper on the sport.”

As a matter of fact, on the rare occasions when they happened to meet, Mr. Salper hardly uttered a word, but it was this very silence of his that made the boys uneasy.

“I feel sometimes,” Jimmy remarked, “as if I’d like to put a tack on his chair, just to see if he’d say ‘ouch’ when it stuck into him.”

“He’d probably say a sight worse than that,” Bob replied, with a laugh,

However, they were having too good a time to allow Mr. Salper and his grouches to interfere much with them.

They became familiar figures at the sending and receiving station, and the operator always received them cordially. They often had long and interesting discussions which were not only delightful to the boys but extremely helpful as well.

“It seems,” said Jimmy, with a grin, “as if all the radio inventors were running a race with each other to see who can get the greatest number of inventions on the market in the shortest space of time.”

“You said something that time, boy,” the operator replied ruefully. “The smart fellows are keeping us dubs on the jump trying to catch up with them. Not that I intend to put you in the ‘dub’ class with myself,” he added, with a grin.

“I only wish we knew half as much about the game as you do,” Bob returned heartily. “I think we’d be mighty well satisfied.”

One day when the radio boys had left Edna and Ruth Salper and were tramping through the woods alone, they spoke of the operator admiringly.

“He sure does know a lot about radio,” said Joe. “He must stay up all night studying.”

“Guess that’s what’s the matter with him,” remarked Bob, soberly. “He spends too much of his time indoors, boning. He should get out in the open more.”

“Looks as if a little fresh air might tone him up some,” Herb admitted. “He looks as if a breath of air might blow him away.”

“If I looked as thin as he does, I’d go see a doctor,” said Jimmy emphatically.

It was a fact that the operator at the station, while looking far from strong when the boys had first seen him, had grown thinner and thinner and paler and paler until now he seemed to be positively going into a decline.

Because they had a sincere regard for Bert Thompson, the boys had tried to lure him out into the open, but he had been proof against all their blandishments. And after a while the boys had given up trying.

“If he wants to kill himself,” Bob had grumbled, “I suppose we’ll have to let him have his own way about it.”

And now at this particular time when the boys were at peace with the world, something suddenly happened that gave them a rude jolt.

Talking happily of improvements they expected to apply to their new radio outfit, they came suddenly upon – Buck Looker and his crowd.

To say they were surprised would not have half expressed it. They were dumbfounded and mad – clear through. So here were these rascals, turning up as they always did, just in time to spoil the fun.

That Buck and his cronies had been talking about them was evident from the fact that at the appearance of the radio boys they stopped short in what they were saying and looked sullenly abashed. And from their confusion Bob guessed that the meeting was as much a surprise to the “gang” as it was to themselves.

The boys would have gone on without speaking, hoping to avoid trouble if it was possible, but Buck hailed them boisterously.

“Say, what are you guys doing here?” he asked, sneeringly, thrusting himself almost directly in front of Bob, so that the latter would be forced to step aside in order to pass him.

“That’s what I’d like to ask you,” returned Bob, feeling himself grow hot all over. “Get out of my way, Buck. You’re cramping the scenery.”

“Aw, what’s your awful rush?” asked Buck, refusing to move, while Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney sidled over to the bully, keeping a wary eye on Bob’s right fist, nevertheless.

“Say, get out of here, Buck Looker, and get quick!” It was Joe who spoke this time, and any one not as stupid as Buck Looker would have known it was time to do as he was told.

But because of the fire that had burned to the ground his father’s disreputable cottage in the woods and which he and his followers had blamed upon the radio boys, Buck Looker thought himself safe in taunting the latter as much as he wished. He assumed that they would not dare resent anything he said or did, for fear he would make public the matter of the fire and accuse them openly.

It was a chance of a lifetime for Buck – or so he thought – and he was determined not to over-look it. So his manner became more insulting than ever and his face took on a wider grin as his glance shifted from Bob to Joe.

“So you’re in a hurry, too, are you?” he sneered. “Going to set some more houses on fire, eh?”

He turned to his cronies with a grin and they piped up together as if by a prearranged signal:

“Firebrands!”

This undeserved insult was more than the radio boys could stand, and all stepped forward with clenched fists.

“You take that back, Buck Looker!” cried Joe, with flashing eyes.

“Take back nothing!” answered the bully.

“Yes, you will!” broke in Bob, and caught Buck by the arm.

At once the bully aimed a savage blow at Bob’s head. But the latter ducked, and an instant later his clenched fist landed upon Buck’s chin with such weight that the bully was sent over backward into the snow.

At the instant when Buck made his attack on Bob, Terry Mooney tried to hit Joe with a stick he carried. Joe promptly caught hold of the stick, and, putting out his foot, sent Terry backward into a snowdrift. Seeing this, Carl Lutz started to run away, but both Herb and Jimmy went after him and knocked him flat.

“You let me alone! I didn’t do anything!” blubbered Carl, who was a thorough coward.

“You can’t call me a firebrand,” answered Herb, and while fat Jimmy sat on the luckless Carl, Herb rammed some snow into his ear and down his neck.

While this was going on both Buck and Terry had scrambled to their feet, and then began a fierce fight between that pair and Bob and Joe. Blows were freely exchanged, but soon the radio boys had the better of it, and when Terry’s lip was bleeding and swelling rapidly, and Buck had received a crack in the left eye and it was also swelling, all three of the cronies were only too glad to back away.

“Have you had enough?” demanded Bob, pantingly.

“If you haven’t, we’ll give you some more,” added Joe.

“You just wait! We’ll get square with you some other time,” muttered Buck. And thereupon he and his cronies lost no time in sneaking away into the woods.

“Of all the mean fellows that ever lived!” cried Herb.

“I guess they’ll leave us alone – for a while, anyway,” came from Joe, as he felt of his shoulder where he had received a blow.

“I wonder what those fellows are doing around here, anyway,” said Bob thoughtfully. “Do you suppose they’re putting up at the Mountain Rest Hotel, too?”

“More than likely,” answered Joe, gloomily. “Perhaps they’ve been driven out of Clintonia, too, on account of the epidemic. I heard quite a number of the other young folks were getting out. The whole town is pretty well scared.”

“They are sure trying their best to make trouble for us,” added Jimmy.

“That fire in the woods was just nuts for them,” said Bob, with a frown. “They’ve been trying for a long time to get something on us, and now they think they’ve got it. They think we’re afraid to beat ’em up now as they deserve, for fear they’ll tell everybody we set that old shack on fire.”

“It was a funny thing,” remarked Joe, musingly, “how that fire started, anyway.”

“Oh, what’s the use of worrying?” added Herb, carelessly. “I reckon the memory of that licking will keep Buck quiet for a while. Say, that was a fine piece of work you did, Bob! The memory lingers.”

Bob grinned.

“How about yourselves?” he asked, adding, with a gleam in his eyes: “I didn’t notice Terry Mooney and Carl Lutz looking very happy!”

CHAPTER XVIII – A NEST OF CONSPIRATORS

The radio boys saw Buck Looker often – all too often – in the days that followed. As the boys had feared, Buck and his crowd were staying at the Mountain Rest Hotel, and it was almost impossible to help encountering them.

Several times there were arguments which almost resulted in blows, but Buck always managed to sneak off at the critical moment, leaving the boys to fume helplessly.

“Wish we could find out how that shack of theirs caught fire,” Joe grumbled on one of these occasions. “Then we could stop their mouths on that firebrand question once and for all.”

“Wouldn’t make any difference,” remarked Herb gloomily. “If they couldn’t make trouble for us on that score, they’d think up something else.”

But about this time something happened that took the minds of the radio boys from Buck Looker and his trouble making.

One day, as they were tramping through the woods in the still deep snow, they came upon a little decrepit-looking one-room shack, standing dejectedly within a circle of skeleton trees.

They had wandered further than usual from camp in exploring the surrounding country and had come upon the tiny cabin unexpectedly. Jimmy was about to utter a gleeful shout at sight of the interesting-looking place when Bob clapped a warning hand over his mouth.

“Keep still,” he whispered sharply. “I hear voices in there.”

“Well, what if you do?” demanded Joe, but he kept his voice cautiously lowered just the same. “Probably some harmless dubs – ”

“Like ourselves,” finished Jimmy, with a grin, “seeking shelter from the bitter weather.”

“Well, whoever they are, they sure are mad about something,” said Bob, hardly knowing why he should be so excited.

The voices inside that one-room shack had been raised in altercation, but now, as the boys listened, somebody evidently cautioned silence, for once more the tones were lowered almost to a whisper.

“There’s something mysterious about this,” said Bob, his eyes gleaming joyfully. “I vote we look into it.”

“Right-o,” agreed Joe, following the leader as Bob started softly toward the shack.

What they expected to find they had no idea. But it was an understood, though unspoken, rule with the radio boys never to pass by anything that looked in the least mysterious. And certainly this queer little shack in the woods bore all the air of mystery.

There was one small window near where they were standing and the four boys crowded up to this, jostling each other in the attempt to be the first to see through the dingy pane.

“Hey!” whispered Jimmy in anguish, as Joe’s foot clamped firmly down upon his. “Quit parking on my toe, will you? There’s lots of room on the ground.”

Joe snickered derisively and that small sound came near to proving their undoing. For inside the cabin it happened that for a moment every one had stopped talking and in the silence Joe’s laugh was distinctly audible.

“Some one’s getting in on this,” they heard one of the voices say, as though its owner were nervous, yet was trying his best to hide his uneasiness. “Let’s take a look around, boys. You never can be too sure.”

The radio boys looked at each other in consternation. There was no time to get away, even if they had wanted to. And now that they were convinced there was crooked work going on in the shack, they certainly did not want to leave.

Bob flattened himself against the wall and motioned to his chums to do likewise. If the fellows found them and wanted to put up a fight, “well, they’d get their money’s worth, anyway.”