“We haven’t seen anybody nor heard a sound. But it is well to be careful. So keep your voices down.”
While they breakfasted, Mr. Hampton sat beside the boys, and a sudden thought came to Jack which caused him to jump up excitedly.
“Look here, Dad,” he said. “We’ve got the Professor’s radio apparatus with us. Frank put it in good shape. Now, it just occurred to me that when Bob left the oasis with me to go on that disastrous ostrich hunt he had a receiving set—our little pet set—tucked away with him. The instruments were in his helmet. The phones and the wire for antenna and ground, were on his saddle.
“It sounds crazy, I know, but it’s just possible that he may have managed to persuade his captors to let him fiddle with the contraption. They wouldn’t know what it was for, and they might let him amuse himself with it. Why not set up the sending apparatus, and try to send him a message. It’s just a chance, I know. But still, if we should manage to let the old boy know we were waiting to rescue him, it would cheer him up, and it would put him on his guard, too, so that he could look out for himself when the attack comes.”
Mr. Hampton, thus appealed to, was tempted to smile tolerantly. It seemed to him, indeed, crazy to believe Bob would be able to receive a message. Yet he was too kind-hearted to hurt the feelings of his son and of Frank, who also hung on his decision. Their anxiety about Bob was known to him. In fact, he shared it. To be doing something, anything, would help relieve the tension on their nerves.
“All right, Jack,” he said, “go ahead and try it. Can’t do any harm, and if you do manage to reach Bob, even though he can’t let you know you succeeded, you certainly will be of comfort to him.”
When he thought of Bob’s predicament, of the mental torture the poor fellow must be undergoing, Mr. Hampton was filled with despair. He turned away to keep the boys from reading his thoughts in his face.
Jack, however, was very close to his father in spirit. Many a time, he showed an uncanny ability at reading his thoughts. As Mr. Hampton strode abruptly away, he turned to Frank and whispered:
“Dad’s in the dumps. He doesn’t really believe we can rescue Bob. I can tell, all right. But, somehow, I have a different feeling myself.”
Frank nodded soberly.