The stranger was big, over six feet, and his face and hands were like a Cuban’s, they were so dark. Even his fair hair seemed to have been burnt a darker hue by the sun. There was a tang of the great out-of-doors about him, a hint of open spaces and adventure that fascinated the radio boys.
“This is my son, Mr. Bentley,” said Mr. Layton to the lounging stranger, still with a twinkle in his eye. “And the other boys are his inseparable companions. Also I think they are almost as crazy about radio as you are.”
The stranger laughed and turned to Bob.
“I’ve been upstairs to see your set,” he said, adding heartily: “It’s fine. I’ve seldom seen better amateur equipment.”
If Bob had liked this stranger before, it was nothing to what he felt for him now. To the radio boys, if any one praised their radio sets, this person, no matter who it was, promptly became their friend for life.
“I’m glad you think it’s pretty good,” Bob said modestly. “We fellows have surely worked hard enough over it.”
“This gentleman here,” said Mr. Layton to the boys, “ought to know quite a bit about radio. He operates an airplane in the service of our Government Forestry.”
“In the United States Forest Service?” cried Bob, breathlessly, eyeing the stranger with increasing interest. “And is your airplane equipped with radio?”
“Very much so,” replied Mr. Bentley. “It seems almost a fairy tale—what radio has done for the Forest Service.”
“I’ve read a lot about the fighting of forest fires,” broke in Joe eagerly. “But I didn’t know radio had anything to do with it.”