“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 class at High School. He was one of the brightest boys in his class, and the others knew that competition 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 attitude.
“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.” 80
“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 assailed by a shower of stones, which sang viciously past their ears. Fortunately, it was too dark for their assailants to throw the missiles with any accuracy, although the boys were struck more than once.