"The Hampton ranch," interrupted Bob, who decided it was time to bring this conversation to an end. He was in a hurry to talk with his father.
"Are you calling Rollins?"
This reminder of the erstwhile traitor at the Hampton ranch brought both boys to a realization that Muller was familiar with the manner of calling their station, as undoubtedly he had handled or conducted radio conversations with Rollins in the past.
"No, not Rollins," said Bob, shortly. It was all right for Jack to shake hands with Muller if he wanted to. Jack and Muller had been active opponents, and such an act was only sportsmanlike under the circumstances. But Bob disliked the young German on sight. "Just let me at the phone," he said, "and turn on the juice."
"Very well."
Muller turned stiffly and entered the power plant adjacent, while Bob in a fever adjusted the headpiece. As the hum of machinery sounded from the power plant, Jack laid a hand on Bob's arm.
"Look here, Bob. Wait a minute."
Bob regarded him inquiringly, his fingers reaching for the knobs on the instrument box before him, preparatory to sending out his signal call.
"What is it, now?"
"Well, you know old Frank will have his ear glued to the receiver at the cave. Suppose you call your father, but tell Frank to listen in and not interrupt."