The Campfire Girls of Roselawn: or, a Strange Message from the Air. Penrose Margaret
I haven’t got it yet,” cried Jess. “I only hope to have it.”
“Then you and Amy come and hear a real one,” said Nell.
“If the Brandons won’t mind. Will they?”
“You know they are the loveliest people,” said Nell briskly. “Mrs. Brandon told me to invite some young friends. But I hadn’t thought of doing so. But I must have you and Amy. We’ll be along for you girls at about seven-forty-five, new time.”
“Then we must hurry,” declared Jess, as the minister’s daughter ran away.
“I’m getting interested,” announced Amy. “Is this radio business like a talking machine?”
“Only better,” said her chum. “Come on. I know several of the little books I want to get. I wrote down the names.”
They dived down the four steps into the basement bookshop. It was a fine place to browse, when one had an hour to spare. But the chums from Roselawn were not in browsing mood on this occasion.
They knew exactly what they wanted – at least, Jessie Norwood did – and somewhat to their surprise right near the front door of the shop was a “radio table.”
“Oh, yes, young ladies,” said the clerk who came to wait upon them only when he saw that they had made their selections, “we have quite a call for books on that topic. It is becoming a fad, and quite wonderful, too. I have thought some of buying a radio set myself.”
“We’re going to build one,” declared Amy with her usual prompt assurance.
“Are you? You two girls? Well, I don’t know why you shouldn’t. Lots of boys are doing so.”
“And anything a boy can do a girl ought to do a little better,” Amy added.
The clerk laughed as he wrapped up the several books Jessie had charged to her father’s account. “You let me know how you get on building it, will you?” he said. “Maybe I can get some ideas from your experience.”
“We’ll show ’em!” declared Amy, all in a glow of excitement. “And why do you suppose, Jess, folks always have to suggest that girls can’t do what boys can? Isn’t it ridiculous!”
“Very,” agreed Jessie. “Although, just as I pointed out a while ago, it would have been handy if Darry or Burd had been with us when we saw that poor girl kidnaped.”
“Of course! But, then, those boys are college men.” She giggled. “And I wager Burd is a sea-sick college man just now.”
“Oh! Have they gone out in the Marigold?” cried Jessie.
“They left New Haven the minute they could get away and joined the yacht at Groton, over across from New London, where it has been tied up all winter. Father insisted that Darry shouldn’t touch the yacht, when Uncle Will died and left it to him last fall, until the college year was ended. We got a marconigram last night that they had passed Block Island going out. And now– well, Burd never was at sea before, you know,” and Amy laughed again.
“It has been rather windy. I suppose it must be rough out in the ocean. Oh, Amy!” Jess suddenly exclaimed, “if I get my radio rigged why can’t we communicate with the Marigold when it is at sea?”
“I don’t know just why you can’t. But I guess the wireless rigging on the yacht isn’t like this radio thing you are going to set up. They use some sort of telegraph alphabet.”
“I know,” declared Jessie with conviction. “I’ll tell Darry to put in a regular sending set – like the one I hope to have, if father will let me. And we can have our two sets tuned so that we can hear each other speak.”
“My goodness! You don’t mean it is as easy as all that?” cried Amy.
“Didn’t you read that magazine article?” demanded her chum. “And didn’t the man say that, pretty soon, we could carry receiving and sending sets in our pockets – maybe – and stop right on the street and send or receive any news we wanted to?”
“No, I sha’n’t,” declared Amy. “Pockets spoil the set of even a sports skirt. Where you going now?”
“In here. Mr. Brill sells electrical supplies as well as hardware. Oh! Amy Drew! There is a radio set in his window! I declare, New Melford is advancing in strides!”
“Sure! In seven league boots,” murmured Amy, following her friend into the store.
Jessie had noted down the things she thought it would be safe to order before speaking to her father about the radio matter. Mrs. Norwood had cheerfully given her consent. Amy had once said that if Jessie went to her mother and asked if she could have a pet plesiosaurus, Mrs. Norwood would say:
“Of course, you may, dear. But don’t bring it into the house when its feet are wet.”
For the antenna and lead-in and ground wires, Jessie purchased three hundred feet of copper wire, number fourteen. The lightning switch Mr. Brill had among his electric fixtures – merely a porcelain base, thirty ampere, single pole double throw battery switch. She also obtained the necessary porcelain insulators and tubes.
She knew there would be plenty of rope in the Norwood barn or the garage for their need in erecting the aerials. But she bought a small pulley as well as the ground connections which Mr. Brill had in stock. He was anxious to sell her a complete set like that he was exhibiting in the show window; but Jessie would not go any farther than to order the things enumerated and ask to have them sent over the next morning.
The girls hurried home when they had done this, for it was verging on dinner time and they did not want to miss going with Nell Stanley and the Brandons to Parkville for the radio entertainment. Mr. Norwood was at home, and Jessie flew at him a good deal like an eager Newfoundland puppy.
“It is the most wonderful thing!” she declared, as she had introduced the subject to her chum.
She kept up the radio talk all through dinner. She was so interested that for the time being she forgot all about the girl that had been carried away in the automobile. Mr. Norwood had not been much interested in the new science; but he promised to talk the matter over with Momsy after their daughter had gone to the radio concert.
“Anyhow,” said Jessie, “I’ve bought the books telling how to rig it. And we’re going to do it all ourselves – Amy and I. And Mr. Brill is going to send up some wire and things. Of course, if you won’t let me have it, I’ll just have to pay for the hardware out of my allowance.”
“Very well,” her father said with gravity. “Maybe Chapman can find some use for the hardware if we don’t decide to build a radio station.”
As they seldom forbade their daughter anything that was not positively harmful, however, there was not much danger that Jessie’s allowance would be depleted by paying a share of the monthly hardware bill. Anyhow, Jessie as well as Amy, went off very gayly in the Brandon car with the minister’s daughter. Mr. Brandon drove his own car, and the girls sat in the tonneau with Mrs. Brandon, who did not seem by any means a very old lady, even if she was a grandmother.
“But grandmothers nowadays aren’t crippled up with rheumatism and otherwise decrepit,” declared Amy, the gay. “You know, I think it is rather nice to be a grandmother these days. I am going to matriculate for the position just as soon as I can.”
They rolled out of town, and just as they turned off the boulevard to take another road to Parkville, a big car passed the Brandon automobile coming into town. It was being driven very rapidly, but very skillfully, and the car was empty save for the driver.
“What beautiful cars those French cars are,” Mrs. Brandon said.
“Did you see her, Jess?” cried Amy, excitedly. “Look at her go!”
“Do you speak of the car or the lady?” laughed Nell Stanley.
“She is no lady, I’d have you know,” Amy rejoined scornfully. “Didn’t you know her when she passed, Jess?”
“I