“Nevertheless, it has been done,” insisted Frank Brandon. “I saw the actual reproduction of one that had been sent from Italy to New York by the wireless route, and while I can’t claim that it was perfect, still it was as plain as the average newspaper picture. And don’t forget that this is a new phase of the game, and is not past the experimental stage yet.”
“Well, after that, I am inclined to agree with Herbert that ‘radio can do anything,’” admitted Mr. Fennington.
“I don’t think we’ll have much trouble making a convert of you,” laughed the radio inspector. “No doubt the quickest way, though, will be to recover your stolen shipment, so we’ll start working in that direction the first thing in the morning.”
And in this he was as good as his word. He was up betimes, getting in touch with headquarters by means of his compact portable outfit. He kept at work until he had received the promise of two trustworthy men, who were to report to him at the lumber camp as soon as they could get there. Then he routed out the radio boys, and after a hasty breakfast they all set out to locate the cabin where the boys had found the code key.
CHAPTER XXI
THE GLIMPSE THROUGH THE WINDOW
The sun was just climbing above the treetops when the radio boys and Frank Brandon set out over the forest road, to the accompaniment of a full chorus of lusty feathered singers. Robin and starling and thrush combined to make the dewy morning gladsome, and the boys whistled back at them and wished Larry Bartlett were there to learn some new notes.
“This would be just his dish,” commented Herb. “After he got warmed up, you wouldn’t be able to tell him from the birds.”