“Is that so?” said Bob, taking his cue. “What happened, Herb?”
“The water was running and the flames were leaping,” cried Herb, triumphantly. “How’s that for a crackerjack joke?”
“Awful,” said Joe, although he could not help laughing with the others. “I’ll bet there’s a nice cosy, padded cell waiting for you in the nearest bughouse, Herb.”
“Well, it can wait, for all of me,” said his friend. “I’m not very keen about it, myself.”
“I think jail would be a better place for him,” suggested Jimmy.
This met with the unqualified approval of everybody except Herb, and then the boys set to work on their new radio set. As this was Saturday evening, they had no lessons to prepare, and they worked steadily until ten o’clock. They wound transformers until Jimmy declared that it made him dizzy even to look at them, and when 92 the time came to stop work they all felt that substantial progress had been made.
They agreed to meet at the theater the following Monday evening, to witness the opening performance of the show in which their friends Larry Bartlett and Tim Barcommon were performing, and then said good-night and started homeward to the accompaniment of a cheerful whistled marching tune.
There was much excitement among their classmates the following Monday, as they had all heard about the show and most of them intended to go. When they learned that the radio boys were acquainted with two of the performers, the four lads were deluged with questions as to how they came to know them.
“You fellows are getting pretty sporty, seems to me,” said Lon Beardsley. “Maybe you’ll give us an introduction to your friends in the show.”
“Surest thing you know,” assented Bob. “I got a letter from them this morning, and they promised to call me up around four o’clock this afternoon. They’ll probably come to our house for dinner, and we’ll all go down to the theater together.”