The Radio Boys at the Sending Station Part 9

"Don't let's bother even thinking about them," said Bob. "Come on in and we'll buy the stuff we need."

The four friends went on into the store, where they found several of their schoolmates, bent on the same mission as themselves. All exchanged greetings, and many good-natured jokes were bandied back and forth as they made their purchases.

"You fellows will have to step lively to get ahead of me," said Lon Beardsley, who was older than any of the radio boys and was in the senior cla.s.s at High School. He was one of the brightest boys in his cla.s.s, and the others knew that compet.i.tion from him was not to be despised.

"Stepping fast is one of the best things we do," said, Bob, in answer to this friendly challenge. "You may be some speed, but we're not such slouches, either."

"Do your worst! We defy you!" cried Herb, striking a melodramatic att.i.tude.

"All right," said Lon, laughing. "Remember, though, I've given you fair warning. I see you're buying vacuum tubes," he added, curiously. "You must be going in pretty deep, aren't you?"

"Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies," parried Bob. "Besides, we're not the only radio fans in this town, Lon. Maybe some one else will beat us all out."

"Oh, I'm not worrying," said the other, as he prepared to leave with his purchases. "Are you fellows going my way?"

"You'd better not wait for us," replied Bob. "We've got a few things to get yet. See you at school to-morrow."

"Righto!" said Lon, and departed, whistling cheerfully.

The radio boys started home soon afterward, The days were getting very short, and by the time they left the store the autumn evening was rapidly fading into night. There was a crisp tang in the air which, together with the smell of burning leaves, gave warning that winter was close at hand.

The last gorgeous colors of an autumn sunset still tinged the western rim of the sky as the boys set out for home at a rapid pace.

Not far from their homes they struck off from the street through a vacant lot, following a path that served as a short cut. The lot was overgrown with weeds and high sunflower stalks, but the idea of an ambush never entered the boys' heads until suddenly they were a.s.sailed by a shower of stones, which sang viciously past their ears. Fortunately, it was too dark for their a.s.sailants to throw the missiles with any accuracy, although the boys were struck more than once.

For a moment, taken completely by surprise, they did not know which way to turn nor what to do. But they were not of the type that hesitates long before taking action. Their hidden a.s.sailants probably thought that they would run, but this thought was furthest from their minds.

Bob noted from which direction the missiles were coming, and acted accordingly.

"Come on, fellows!" he yelled, and, followed by his friends, charged into the long dry stalks that fringed the path.

There was a sudden cessation in the volley of stones and a startled rustling deep in the rank growth of weeds.

In grim silence the radio boys charged straight in the direction of this sound, and such was the speed of their attack that their hidden adversaries had no chance to make their escape before the boys were upon them. It was now almost dark, but there was still enough light for the boys to recognize the ungainly form of Buck Looker, in company with his cronies. These three had been re-inforced by a boy of about Buck's age, and of very much the same ugly disposition, known as Bud Hayes, whose family had lately moved to Clintonia.

"Clean them up, fellows!" yelled Bob. "We'll teach them not to throw stones again in a hurry!"

Each of the radio boys singled out an adversary, and a brisk melee ensued.

Seeing that they could not get away, the Looker crowd put up the best fight they could. But the radio boys were wrought up to a high pitch of anger by the cowardly attack on them, and they fought with a quiet and grim determination that quickly put their adversaries on the defensive.

At first the high gra.s.s and weeds hampered all the combatants, but these were soon trampled down as they fought savagely back and forth. Suddenly, by some unfortunate accident, Herb tripped over some object lying on the ground, and fell full length. With a cry of triumph, Bud Hayes, without giving Herb a chance to get to his feet again, threw himself down on top of him and started pommeling him for all he was worth. Stunned by his fall, Herb at first could offer little resistance, and it would have gone hard with him had not Bob observed his fall. He himself had engaged Buck in combat, but as he saw Herb go down, he dealt Buck a staggering blow on the point of the jaw and leaped to Herb's a.s.sistance.

Hot rage filled his heart and the wild thrill of combat tingled along every nerve. With the strength and ferocity of a panther he hurled himself at Bud Hayes, landing with such force that Bud was hurled several feet away from the prostrate Herb, gasping for breath.

Bob himself landed on the ground, but was on his feet again quick as lightning, glancing about him to see how it fared with his friends. Joe was forcing Carl Lutz back step by step, while Jimmy had already forced Terry Mooney to take to his heels. But even as Bob noted this in one quick glance, both Bud and Buck, who had recovered by this time, rushed at him from different directions. But before Buck could get too close quarters Herb, who was recovering from the effect of his fall, stretched out a foot, and Buck sprawled headlong, landing with such force that the breath was knocked from his body.

Lutz and Hayes, seeing their leader fall, decided that it was time for them to get away, and simultaneously they took to their heels. By this time it had grown so dark that it was impossible to follow them, so the boys were left in undisputed possession of the field.

Buck Looker, deserted by his cowardly friends, staggered to his feet, all the fight knocked out of him. He was entirely at the mercy of the radio boys, but they were not the kind to take advantage of this fact, although, undoubtedly, had their positions been reversed, Buck would have had no such scruples.

"Well, you've got me," growled Buck. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," said Bob, a note of contempt in his voice. "The less we see of you, Buck, the better we're satisfied. And your gang's no better than you are. Look at the way they ran off and left you to take care of yourself.

You're dirty and they're dirty. We'll let you off this time with the licking you've had already, but if you ever try any more low-down tricks you won't get off so easily."

Buck muttered something to himself which he did not dare to voice aloud, and slunk off with the manner of a cur who has just received a beating that he knows he deserves. The radio boys groped their way back to the path, where they had left their bundles, and resumed their way home, keeping a wary eye out for any signs of a renewal of the attack by their enemies.

CHAPTER IX

LARRY REAPPEARS

"That was a regular battle," said Herb, as they walked along. "Bud Hayes has some reputation as a sc.r.a.pper, and he certainly was all that I could handle, but if I hadn't tripped over that blamed can I could have taken care of him all right. But I've got a lump on my head as big as a hen's egg where I hit the ground."

"You'd have been out of luck if Bob hadn't helped you out the way he did,"

said Joe. "You certainly landed on him like a load of bricks, Bob."

"I was so mad that I think I would have dropped a ton of bricks on him if I'd had them handy," replied Bob, with a grim laugh. "That was one dirty trick--hitting Herb--when he was knocked out by that fall."

"I guess I owe you a vote of thanks for that, too," said Herb.

"I owe you one, for tripping up Buck in the neat way you did," returned Bob. "He and Hayes would have been on top of me both together if you hadn't."

"No thanks due; it was a pleasure," grinned Herb, although a swollen lip made this exercise painful. "I wish he'd broken his neck while he was about it."

"It wasn't your fault that he didn't," said Bob.

"I knew that bunch was mean," remarked Joe. "But I never thought they were mean enough to take up stone throwing from ambush. That's the most cowardly thing they've ever done."

"Yes, and the most dangerous," said Bob. "Any one of those stones might have killed one of us if it had landed just right."

"Or, worse still, it might have broken our vacuum tubes," added Jimmy, with a grin. "It's a wonder that the whole lot of them didn't get smashed.

I'll be afraid to open the package when we do get it home," he went on more seriously.

His fears turned out to have been groundless, for when they arrived at the Layton home, without having seen or heard anything more of the bullies on the way, they found all their delicate apparatus unharmed. And other than Herb's swollen lip and a few slight bruises, they had received little damage themselves from the encounter. The bullies had not fared so well, for little was seen of them for several days, and when they did make an appearance in public they were decorated with strips of court plaster here and there. They offered many ingenious excuses in explanation, but they received little credence from the other boys of the town, who had been apprized of the cowardly attack on the radio boys and the result of the encounter.

The bullies soon found that n.o.body believed them, and wherever they went they were pointed out and were the subject of many jeers and jokes, although few dared to make them openly. Buck realized that he was losing prestige rapidly, and, although he was getting secretly to fear another encounter with the radio boys, he felt that he must soon get the better of them if he were to regain his former reputation as a fighter. He and his cronies spent many an hour in hatching plots against Bob and his friends, but for a long time could think of nothing that offered much prospect of success.

Meanwhile, the radio boys were going about the building of their big set with enthusiasm, spending all their spare time at the fascinating pursuit.

Most of their work was done at Bob's house, as he had an ideal workroom in the cellar, and his position as leader, moreover, made it seem the natural place for them to meet.

"Say, fellows!" exclaimed Jimmy one evening, tumbling down the cellar stairs three steps at a time, "have you heard the news?"

"What news?" asked Herb, who had arrived only a few minutes before him.

"Has there been a big fire? Or did some one die and leave you a million dollars?"

"No such luck as that," replied Jimmy. "But I know you'll be mighty glad to hear it, anyway. Cha.s.son's vaudeville is going to be in Clintonia next week. That's the show Larry and Tim are with, you know."