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Radio Boys Trailing a Voice; Or, Solving a Wireless Mystery

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<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> <h3>A STARTLING DISCOVERY</h3></div> The cook had supplied the radio boys with a lavish hand, but their long walk and the swim had given them ravenous appetites, and by the time they finished there was little left of the lunch. Even this little was soon disposed of by the bright-eyed birds that ventured close in pursuit of the tempting bits. By sitting as still as statues the boys succeeded in enticing the little fellows almost within arm’s length, and derived no little amusement at the evident struggle between greed and caution. But soon the last crumb was gone, and after a short rest the lads began to think of returning to camp. They did not want to go back by the same road over which they had come, however, so decided to follow the shores of the lake until they should find some other path. This was, of course, a roundabout way of getting home, but they had the better part of the afternoon before them, and were in no particular hurry. 152 “Come on over to the north,” suggested Joe. “I think there is another trail in that direction.” “Yes, and I imagine the walking is better,” put in Herb. “Say, you don’t want to go too far out of the way,” came hastily from Jimmy. “We’ve got to walk back remember.” “Forward it is!” cried Bob. “Come on, Jimmy, you’ve got to walk off that big lunch you stowed away.” “Gee, if I walk too far I’ll be hungry again before I get home,” sighed the stout youth. “Wow! hear Jimmy complain,” burst out Joe. “He hardly has one meal down than he’s thinking of another.” To find another trail was not as simple a matter as it had seemed, and they must have traveled over two miles before Bob’s keen eyes detected a slight break in the dry underbrush that might denote a path such as they sought. They found a dim trail leading in the general direction in which they wished to go, and set out at a brisk pace, even Jimmy being willing to hurry as visions of the loaded supper table floated before him. Gradually the path widened out, as others ran into it, until it became a fairly well-defined woods road. It was thickly strewn with last year’s soft and rotting leaves, and the boys made little sound in spite of the rapidity of their pace. Bob and 153 Joe and Herb were striding along in a group, Jimmy having dropped behind while he fixed a refractory shoe lace, when suddenly Bob halted abruptly and held up a warning hand. The others, scenting something amiss, stopped likewise, looking inquiringly at Bob. Silently he pointed to a spot slightly ahead of them and several paces off the road. Even as the others gazed wonderingly, Bob beckoned them to follow and slipped silently into the brush that lined the road. On the other side stood a big tree, its trunk and branches sharply outlined against the clear sky. At the base of this tree, with his back toward them, stood a man. Now, the surprising part of it all, and that which had caused the boys to proceed so cautiously, was the fact that the man wore headphones and was evidently receiving a message of some kind. Fastened to the tree was a box, which evidently contained telephonic apparatus. At first the boys thought he must be listening at an ordinary telephone, but the fact that he had no transmitter indicated that he was listening in on a radio receiving set. The boys had hardly reached their place of concealment when the man turned sharply about, darting furtive glances here and there, evidently in search of possible intruders. The boys crouched lower behind the bushes and prayed 154 fervently that Jimmy would not arrive before the man had gone. The fellow was of fair size, with a deeply tanned face, and wore a moustache. Fortunately, after they had been watching him a few minutes, he removed the earphones, placed them in the box, and, after locking it, started into the woods, following a dimly marked footpath. It was well that he left when he did, for not two minutes later Jimmy came puffing along, looking anxiously for the others. He stopped in amazement when he saw his friends emerge from the bushes, and was about to raise his voice in vehement questionings when Bob leaped at him and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet!” he hissed into his ear. “There’s some funny work going on here, and we want to find out what it is.” Thus admonished, Jimmy was released, and in low tones the others told him of what they had seen and showed him the box fastened to the tree. While they were about it, they made a hasty search for the antenna, and found it strung close to the trunk of the tree, extending from the top almost to the roots. After this discovery they hurried after the man with the moustache, fearful lest they should lose his trail. It was no easy matter to follow the dimly marked path, for it passed at times over stony 155 ground and big boulders, where often it took much searching here and there before they picked up its continuation. “We may be taking all this trouble for nothing,” said Bob, after one of these searches. “Maybe he’s just a lumberman receiving instruction by wireless from his employers. Big business firms are using radio more and more for such purposes.” “I didn’t like the way he kept looking about him, as though he had something to conceal,” objected Joe. “It can’t do any harm to see where he goes, anyway. We may find out something important.” “His hands weren’t those of a lumberman,” observed Herb. “Those hands never saw rough work nor, judging from the man’s face and manner, honest work. Come on, fellows.” Accordingly the boys followed the difficult trail with untiring patience, and at last their perseverance was rewarded. The path widened out into a little clearing, and at the further side of this was a rough log cabin. The little shack had two small windows, and with infinite caution the boys approached until they could see into the nearest one. The interior was rudely furnished with a heavy table and two crudely fashioned chairs, while in 156 the corner furthest from them two bunks had been built, one above the other. In another corner was a compact radio transmitting set. At the table was seated the man with the moustache, intently studying a notebook propped up before him. From this he made notes on a sheet of paper, scowling at times like one engaged in a difficult task. At length he shoved back his chair, rose to his feet, and, striding across the little shack, carefully placed the notebook under a board on a shelf. Luckily he was so absorbed in what he was doing that he did not even glance toward the window where the radio boys were observing his every motion. But Bob now judged that they had seen enough, and he wished to run no unnecessary risk of detection. At a signal from him they made for the underbrush at the edge of the clearing, where they could command a view of the door, and waited to see if the mysterious stranger would emerge. In a few minutes the door opened and the man stepped out, stopping to fasten it securely behind him. Then, with a quick glance about the little clearing, he made for the path leading to the main road and in a short time the sound of his going died away. The boys waited a few minutes, thinking that possibly he might return for something forgotten, but no further sound came from the path. At 157 length they ventured to approach the deserted cabin. The door had been fastened with a heavy padlock, but this was not sufficient to deter the radio boys. Searching through their pockets for some implement with which they could undo the lock, Jimmy discovered a stout fish-hook, and after they had ground off the barbs against a flat stone this made an ideal tool. With it Bob probed about in the interior of the padlock, and at length, with a sharp click, it sprung open. Ordinarily he would not have done this, but he had every reason to believe that he was dealing with a criminal and that he was justified in the interest of law and order in taking steps that would prevent any further depredations against society. “More ways than one of killing a cat,” remarked Bob, as he pushed open the heavy door and entered the cabin. “We’ve got to know what’s in that notebook before we leave this place. Let’s have a look.” The boys quickly brought the book from its place of concealment and carried it to the table, where they bent eagerly over it as Bob turned the pages. “It doesn’t look like sense to me,” complained Jimmy. “I never saw such a lot of fool words jumbled together.” “Yes, but something tells me there’s method in this madness,” said Bob, his brows knit as he 158 concentrated on the problem before him. “Say, fellows!” he exclaimed, as sudden excitement gripped him, “do you remember those nights we were listening to our big set and we heard the mysterious messages? They were just a lot of words, and we couldn’t make anything out of them at the time.” “You bet I remember!” exclaimed Joe. “I think I could even tell you most of the words. Why, there’s some of them in that book, right now!” “Exactly,” replied Bob, nodding. “I remember them, too, and this must be the key to the code. My stars, what luck! Let’s see how close we can recall the words we caught, and then we’ll see if we can make sense of them with the help of this key.” “I’ll tell you the words as I remember them, and you check me up,” suggested Joe, and this they accordingly did. Between them they managed to get it straight, just as they had heard it, “Corn-hay-six-paint-water-slow-sick-jelly.” “I think that’s right,” said Bob. “Anyway, we’ll see if it comes right with the key. You read the words, Joe, and I’ll find them in this notebook and you can write them down. Shoot the first one.” “Corn,” said Joe. 159 Bob hunted rapidly down the columns of code words and their equivalents, and soon found the one he was after. “Motor truck,” he read out. “That sounds promising!” exclaimed Joe. “The next word I’ve got is ‘hay.’ What’s the answer to that?” “Silk,” said Bob, after a shorter search this time. “Six,” read Joe. “Castleton Road!” exclaimed Bob, his voice shaking with excitement as he traced down the columns of words. Herb and Jimmy were also excited; especially the former, as he realized better than the others how serious a loss the theft of his father’s truckload of silk had been and now thought he saw some clue in this message that might throw light on the whereabouts of the stolen goods. <hr class='major' /> <div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> 160 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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