Harry Ashley spent the day between working about the farm, visiting the scene of activity at the Dixon place, and limping up to the tower.
Only some exchange test calls came to Station Z that day. Tom was encouraged to find how quickly he could read them, and send the necessary replies.
Nearly every lad in the neighborhood was on hand that evening, when Tom arrived at the Dixon place, and began to connect the various devices of the wireless outfit. It took into the next day fully to adjust the various parts.
Ben was in a rare fever of excitement and expectancy the second evening about seven o’clock, when Tom announced to him that the finishing touches of the experiment were in process.
“She’s all there, Ben,” he said triumphantly, as he drew smooth the tinfoil tongues of the setts of the coherer. “I’ll run down to Station Z and give you a call to see if she works all right.”
Ben Dixon stood staring fixedly at the apparatus rigged up in a shed running up to the spirals strung to tree tops near the old barn. Six ardent watchers sat astride a bench, mouths agape and eyes bolting from their heads, resembling lads awaiting the touching of a match to a powder mine.
Finally a thrill ran instantaneously from the metallic poles through the vibrating parts of the apparatus. As one after another the boys listened at the telephone-like receiver, they heard the tell-tale dots and dashes.
“Hurrah!” shouted Ben Dixon in a frenzy of wild delight.
[CHAPTER VI—A TIP VIA WIRELESS]
“This means business!” exclaimed Tom.