CHAPTER VI
A Mystery and Cub's "Goat"
Cub hastened to his father and gave him a rapid narrative of events as they had been received by wireless.
"Well, that's interesting, to say the least," observed Mr. Perry with a look of curious amusement.
Cub waited a few moments for further comment, but as it was slow coming, he asked impulsively:
"What are we going to do?"
"What do you think we ought to do?" inquired the man at the wheel, looking sharply at his son.
"I don't know; I'm stumped," was the boy's reply.
"That's a frank admission. First time I've known you to admit such absolute defeat. Do you think we'd better turn about and go back home?"
"No," Cub replied with a revival of decision in his tone of voice.
"Well, shall we stop, turn to the right or left, or go ahead?"
There was a slump to indecision again. Cub looked foolish. His father was making sport of him and he did not know how to answer intelligently. In desperation, however, he replied:
"Go ahead."
"What for?" asked Mr. Perry. "Shall we dash to the rescue and face those four men, who probably are armed with pistols?"
"No, of course not. Anyway, we don't know where they are. They may be twenty-five miles from here, for all we know."
"Then we'll have to give up the search if you don't get any more messages from him," declared the boy's father.
"That's so," Cub admitted. "And if those men captured him and took him away in their boat, this affair will have to remain a mystery in our lives forever afterward."
"You'd better go back to the cabin and see if Bud and Hal got any more messages from him," suggested Mr. Perry.
"That's the only hope left," said Cub as he turned to go.
But this "last hope" proved to be vain. Bud and Hal were both still listening-in, but with little suggestion of expectancy on their countenances.
"Anything more?" inquired the tall youth, unwilling to put his question in negative form, in spite of the fact that his better judgment would have dictated it thus.
Both listeners shook their heads.
"Then that's the end of our search," Cub declared with a crestfallen and disgusted look.
"Why?" asked Bud.
"Answer the question yourself; it's easy,"
"I don't see why we should give up just because we've run up against an obstacle a little worse than any we've met before," said Hal.
"All right," Cub challenged. "Let's see what you propose to do."
"Well," Hal responded slowly; "we could go on till we found—"
He stopped and looked foolish.
"Found what?" asked Cub. "The island? How would you do that without something to guide your radio compass?"
"That's so"; Hal admitted, with another foolish look.
"It's too bad," Bud broke in, with tone well suited to his words.
"I suppose the next thing for us to do is to look for a tie-up for the night." said Hal indicating his sense of defeat by his change of subject.
"I think father is doing that now," replied Cub. "Guess I'll go and see what his idea is on that subject."
By this time the Catwhisker was several miles beyond Grindstone Island and was winding its way through a labyrinthine group to the north of Grandview. The scenery here was so enchanting that Cub and his father speedily agreed that the first convenient, unclaimed natural harbor that they discovered ought to be adopted as theirs for the night.
The season was well opened, and there were many boats on the river, so many, indeed, that it seemed strange that any live, intelligent person could be marooned on one of those islands, however vast their number, without being able to call attention to his distress. However, there were main highways in this, as in any other, semi-wilderness, and doubtless some of the by-ways were less accessible, if not less inviting and in the nature of things, less frequently visited.
This company of "rescue tourists" had motored through the Lake of the Thousand Islands before, and hence were not at a loss at any time how to find their way. The spectacle, therefore, of a hit-and-miss, crazy-quilt arrangement of long, round, high, low, green, bare islands, many of them decked with a wealth of firs, pines, tamaracks, oaks, maples, bushes and flowers, was not new to them. However, it was not long after their decision to look for a mooring place when they found an ideal cove and tied the Catwhisker to an overhanging bent, gnarled, contorted pine tree.
No camp was made on the shore, as they had no intention of remaining at this place longer than until the next break of day. All hands were pretty tired after supper, but Hal decided he must listen-in for a while before going to bed. So he donned a pair of phones and began to tune for an evening program, when a call, clear and distinct, addressed to him, suddenly held his attention.
It was from the now mysterious "V A X", the "Island Crusoe". Hal answered it and then received the following message:
"Thanks awfully for your good intentions, but I didn't need any help. Sorry to have troubled you. I did have a wager with that other fellow, but not the kind he described. It was the first big contest in the history of radio. I gave odds of four to one and am the winner. We both went to the island together and each put up an independent receiving and sending set. My part of the contest was to induce someone to come to the rescue of me as an island prisoner; his part was to head off any such rescue. He admitted I won after it was certain you were headed for us, and then we both lost our nerve and ducked. Good-bye."
Bud and Cub took the hint, from Hal's eager and almost awed manner, that something unusual was coming in through the ether and donned phones in time to catch the latter half of the message. This was sufficient to give them a clear understanding of the situation. After the "good-bye" finish, Hal made a desperate effort to hold the "Island operator" for further conversation, but could get no reply. At last he gave it up and they turned their attention to discussion of the situation.
"Well, I wonder if that's the last well hear from him," said Bud as he removed the phones from his ears, while the other two boys did likewise.
"More of a puzzle than ever, isn't it?" Cub remarked.
"Why, don't you believe the explanation he telegraphed to us?" Hal inquired.
"I do not," the tall youth replied positively.
"Why not?" Hal persisted. "Doesn't it satisfy your lordship?"
"Cut it out, Tee-hee," the alleged "lordship" ordered. "You make me sore."
"Then I'll rub on some salve."
"If you do, you'll get your fingers burnt," Cub retorted.
"I always thought you were a hot one. But that doesn't answer the question before us."
"No, because we don't know how to settle it," Cub admitted. "If we knew what we're talkin' about, we wouldn't be batting this nonsense back and forth. We can't hit the nail on the head, so we just fan the air. By the way, what did that fellow say before Bud and I began to listen-in?"
Hal reviewed the first half of the statement received by him. Then Mr. Perry, who had just returned from ashore, where he had been testing the security of the tie-up, entered the cabin.
"What's the trouble, boys?" he asked, noting the studied expression of their faces.
"No trouble, exactly," Cub replied. "Just another mystery."
"That's interesting," the yachtsman commented. "Tell me about it."
"You get my goat, dad," Cub declared.
Mr. Perry laughed.
"Why do I get your goat, Bob?" he asked.
"Because the more mystery there is floating around, the better pleased you are."
"Is that so? Well, what's the mystery now?"
"You tell 'im, Hal," requested the youth of the "goat-got affliction".
Hal did as requested. Quiet of several moments followed.
"Well?" Mr. Perry interrogated.
"Well!". repeated Cub vociferously. "Is that all you can say?"
"I'd like to return your goat, Bob, but I don't see how I can," Mr. Perry announced provokingly.
"In other words, you don't see anything startling about that fellow's last performance," Cub inferred.
"No—o, nothing startling," his father replied slowly.
"What do you make out of it, then?"
"I don't know that I make anything out of it, except a lot of nonsense."
"You think it's a joke?"
"I wouldn't call it anything but a lot of nonsense until I know more about it."
"But doesn't it make you impatient to find out what it all means?"
Cub demanded.
"No, not in the least. I got over that long ago, my son. Don't let any such habit grip you; it'll wear your nerves out, and then you won't have any lead-in to connect your antennae with your brains."
"Ha, ha, ha," laughed the man's youthful audience in chorus, even Cub appreciating the illustration.
"When did you begin to study radio, Mr. Perry?" asked Bud.
"Oh, I've been learning rapidly ever since I was thrown into the company of you hams," was the reply. "But don't let me get you off the question."
"The question—what was the question?" asked Cub, digging his fingers into his rather lengthy locks of hair.
"Mystery, wasn't it?" reminded Mr. Perry.
"Yes, that's it," Bud replied. "The mystery of the Radio Robinson Crusoe in the Lake of the Thousand Isles."
"That sounds interesting, but it's mostly a poetic, or ecstatic, jumble of words," said Mr. Perry. "And right there is the secret of many a mystery. It's clothed in a maze of language. Remove the maze, and it begins to look simple."
"Where is the maze of language in this affair?" Cub challenged.
"From what I've heard, the whole affair seems to have consisted principally of language. Now, I tell you what we'll do. We'll go to bed early and have a good sleep. In the morning, we'll shake this affair up in a sieve and see if we can't get rid of everything but the main lumps of the facts. Then we'll size them up and see what we can make of them. In my opinion, we can get at the bottom of what you choose to regard as a profound mystery."
"If you do, pa, you'll return my goat," said Cub.
"It's up to you, Bob," was his father's reply. "I've no desire to keep him in my stable."