In deference to Mr. Layton’s condition, the loud speaker was not used that night, and the boys adjusted their respective earphones and prepared to listen in to the entertainment furnished by WJZ, the signal letters of the Newark broadcasting station.
Mr. Bentley’s talk was scheduled on the program to take place at nine, and the boys were so impatient for this to begin that they did not pay as much attention as usual to the other features that preceded it. Not but what they were well worth listening to. There was a glorious violin solo played by a celebrated master, the rich notes rising and falling in wonderful bursts of melody. Then there was a talk by a star third baseman of national reputation, telling how he played the “difficult corner” and narrating some ludicrous happenings in the great game. Following this was a jazz rendition of the “Old Alabama Moon,” and then came one of Sousa’s band pieces that set feet to jigging in time with the music. WJZ was surely putting on a most interesting program.
At last came the announcement for which the Radio Boys were waiting, and they straightened up in an attitude of intent listening.
“Mr. Payne Bentley, of the United States Forest Service,” stated the announcer, “will tell us of the work done by radio in the prevention and extinction of fires in the national forests. Mr. Bentley has spent many years in this important and hazardous work, both as aviator and radio operator, and speaks with authority.”
There was a moment’s pause, and then came the clear strong voice that the boys had been waiting for and which they recognized at once.
“There’s the old boy, sure enough,” murmured Jimmy delightedly.
“S-sh,” came from the others, as they settled down to listen.
“I am not a practiced orator,” Mr. Bentley began after the customary salutation to his invisible audience, “and if my talk shall prove of any interest to you, it will be due not to the way in which I express myself but to the importance of my subject.”
After this modest opening he plunged into his theme, and for a space of perhaps twenty minutes presented an array of facts and incidents that riveted the closest attention of his great audience. At least, that was the way it affected the Radio Boys, and they had no doubt that thousands of others were listening with the same fascinated interest. Nor was this due simply to the personal attraction the speaker had for the boys. Had they not known him at all, the subject matter of his talk would have been sufficient to hold them enchained.
With a few broad strokes the speaker sketched the awakening of the national Government to the value of its forest riches and the necessity of conserving them. Uncle Sam, he said, had been in the position of a prodigal father, so rich that he believed his wealth would never be used up, therefore perfectly willing that his sons should scatter it broadcast. Why worry, when there were millions and millions of acres teeming with trees that could scarcely be numbered? So he had shut his eyes to the denuding of the forests.