Tom at once recognized it as the Morgan machine. Its owner alighted, and a minute later came up the ladder.
“Glad to see you, Barnes,” he hailed cheerily, shaking hands with the young wireless operator. “You didn’t wait for me at the village as agreed, Mr. Mason,” he added, addressing Tom’s guest.
“I fancied I had better come on ahead and get an unprejudiced view of the proposition,” observed Mr. Mason.
“Strike you all right?” intimated the magnate pleasantly.
“Capital,” answered the stranger with emphasis.
“That’s good. Barnes, this is Mr. Mason, inspector for the International Wireless Company, of New York.”
“Oh,” said Tom, a little dubiously and a trifle flustered.
“I knew how you were interested in this wireless business, Barnes,” resumed Mr. Morgan, “and I spoke to my friend here of the independent station you were running.”
“Which I wish to take into the service, you included,” broke in Mr. Mason in a clear, straightforward way. “I hear of some good work you have done here. The location can be made an important one, and, if you are ready for it, I’ll talk business with you.”
“There is not much doubt about the utility of the station here,” observed Mr. Morgan. “Barnes saved me half my fortune through an intercepted wireless. He has my unqualified recommendation and support, Mr. Mason.”