# Radio Boys Cronies/Chapter XVII

"Where did you come from, Gus?" Bill asked, still inclined to laugh.
"The road. Slipped away from the others for I was wondering whether you might not get into trouble. Couldn't imagine that chump would spring anything that wouldn't make you mad, and I knew you'd talk back. So I did the gumshoe."
"Well, I suppose he would have made it quite interesting for me and I am eternally grateful to you. If it weren't for you, Gus, I guess, I'd have a hard time in--"
"By cracky, if it weren't for you, old scout, where would I be? Nowhere, or anywhere, but never somewhere."
"That sounds to me something like what Professor Gray calls a paradox," laughed Bill.
"I don't suppose you're going to peach on Thad," Gus offered.
"No; but wouldn't I like to? It's a rotten shame to have that lowdown scamp under Mr. Hooper's roof. It's a wonder Grace doesn't give him away; she must know what a piker he is."
"Bill, it's really none of our business," Gus said. "Well, see you in the morning early."
The boys wished once more to go over carefully all the completed details of the water power plant; they had left the Pelton wheel flying around with that hissing blow of the water on the paddles and the splashing which made Bill think of a circular log saw in buckwheat-cake batter. The generator, when thrown in gear, had been running as smoothly as a spinning top; there were no leaks in the pipe or the dam. But now they found water trickling from a joint that showed the crushing marks of a sledge, the end of the nozzle smashed so that only enough of the stream struck the wheel to turn it, and there was evidence of sand in the generator bearings.
Then appeared George, with an expression of mingled sorrow, shame, wonder and injured pride on his big ebony features, his eyes rolling about like those of a dying calf. At first he was mute.
"Know anything about this business, George?" asked Bill.
"Don't know a thing but what Ah does know an' dat's a plenty. What's happened here?"
"The plant has been damaged; that's all."
"Damage? When? Las' night, close on t' mawnin'? Well, suh, Ah 'low that there ghos' done it."
"Ghost? What--where was any ghost?"
"Right yer at de tool house. Come walkin' roun' de corner fo' Ah could grab up man stick an' Ah jes' lef' de place."
"What? Ran away and from your duty? You were put here to guard the plant; not to let any old--"
"Didn't 'low t' guard it 'gainst no ghos'es. Dey don' count in de contrac'. Folks is one thing an' ghos'es--"
"Ghosts! Bosh! There's no such thing as a ghost! If you had swung your club at the silly thing you'd have knocked over some dub of a man that we could pretty well describe right now, and saved us a heap of trouble and expense--and you'd have kept your job!" Bill was disgusted and angry.
"Lawsee! Ah ain't gwine lose mah job jes' fo' dodgin' a ghos', is I?"
"What did this fellow look like?" asked Gus.
"Ah nevah could tell 'bout it; didn't take no time for' t' look sharp. Ah wuz on'y jes' leavin'."
"Now, see here, George," said Bill, his native gentleness dominating, "if you'll promise to say nothing about this, keep on the job and grab the next ghost, we'll let you stay on. And we'll make an awful good guess when we tell you that you'll find the ghost is Mr. Hooper's nephew. If you do grab him, George, and lock him in the tool house, we'll see that you're very nicely rewarded,--a matter of cold cash. Are you on?"
"Ah shore is, an' Ah'll git him, fo' Ah reckon he's gwine come again. 'Tain't no fun tacklin' whut looks lak a ghos', but Ah reckon Ah'll make that smahty think he's real flesh an' blood fo' Ah gits through with him!"
The boys were two days making repairs, which time encroached upon their plan to get their promised radio receiver into action. Having no shop nor proper tools for finer work, they would be handicapped, for they had decided, because of the pleasure and satisfaction in so doing, to make many of the necessary parts that generally are purchased outright. Bill made the suggestion, on account of this delay, that they abandon their original plan, but Gus, ever hopeful, believed that something might turn up to carry out their first ideas.
The afternoon that they had everything in normal condition again, Mr. Hooper came down to see them; he knew nothing of the tampering with the work, but it became evident at once that his nephew had slyly and forcibly put it into his head that amateur radio construction was largely newspaper bunk, without any real foundation of fact. Thad may have had some new scheme, but at any rate the unlettered old man would swallow pretty nearly everything Thad said, even though he often repudiated Thad's acts. Again Mr. Hooper, Bill and Gus got on the subject of radio and the old gentleman repeated his convictions:
"I ain't sayin' you boys can't do wonders, an' I'm fer you all the time, but I'm not goin' t' b'lieve you kin do what's pretty nigh out o' reason. Listen to me, now, fer a minute: If you fellers kin rig up a machine to fetch old man Eddy's son's talk right here about two hundred an' fifty mile, I'll hand out to each o' you a good hundred dollars; yes, b'jinks. I'll make it a couple a hun--"
"No, Mr. Hooper, we value your friendship altogether too much to take your money and that's too much like a wager, anyway." Bill was most earnest. "But you must take our word for it that it can be done."
"Fetch old man Eddy's son's voice--!"
"Just that exactly--similar things have been done a-plenty. People are talking into the radio broadcasters and their voices are heard distinctly thousands of miles. But, Mr. Hooper, you wouldn't know Mr. Edison's voice if you heard it, would you?"
"N--no, can't say as how I would--but listen here. I do know a feller what works with him--they say he's close to the ol' man. Bill Medders. Knowed Bill when he was a little cack, knee-high to a grasshopper. They say he wrote a book about Eddy's son. I'd know Bill Medder's voice if I heard it in a b'iler factory."
Bill Brown could hardly repress a smile. "I guess you must mean William H. Meadowcroft. His 'Boys' Life of Edison' sure is a dandy book. I liked it best of all. Sometimes no one can see Mr. Edison for weeks at a time, when he's buried in one of his 'world-beaters.' But I reckon we can let you hear Mr. Meadowcroft's voice. He wrote me a pippin of a letter once about the Chief."
"All righty. I'll take Medders's. I know Bill, an' you can't fool me on that voice."
"Mr. Hooper, I'll tell you what," said the all-practical Bill eagerly. "This demonstration will be almost as interesting to you as it is to us, and you can help us out. We can get what little power we need from any power plant. But we want a shop most of all--a loft or attic with room enough to work in. We're going to get all the tools we need--"
"No. I'll get 'em fer you an' you kin have all that there room over the garage." (The old gentleman pronounced this word as though it rhymed with carriage.) "An' anything else you're a mind to have you kin have. Some old junk up there, I reckon," he went on. "You kin throw it out, er make use of it. An' now, let's see what you kin do!"
The boys were eager to acknowledge this liberal offer, and they expressed themselves in no measured terms. They would do better than make one receiver; they would make two and one would be installed in Mr. Hooper's library,--but of this they said nothing at first. Get busy they did, with a zeal and energy that overmatched even that given the power plant. That afternoon they moved into the new shop and were delighted with its wide space and abundant light. The next day they went to the city for tools and materials. Two days later a lathe, a grinder and a boring machine, driven by a small electric motor wired from the Hooper generator were fully installed, together with a workbench, vises, a complete tool box and a drawing board, with its instruments. No young laborers in the vineyard of electrical fruitage could ask for more.
"Isn't it dandy, Gus?" Bill exclaimed, surveying the place and the result of their labors in preparation. "If we can't do things here, it's only our fault. Now, then--"
"It is fine," said Gus, "and we're in luck, but somehow, I think we must be on our guard. I can't get my mind off ghosts and the damage over yonder. I'm going to take a sneak around there to-night again, along around midnight and a little after. I did last night; didn't tell you, for you had your mind all on this. George was on duty, challenged me, but I've got a hunch that he knows something he doesn't want to worry us about and thinks he can cope with."