“Well, he’s promised to run up to the house tomorrow night,” said Phil. “Be sure to get over, Dick.”
“I’ll be there with bells on,” promised Dick as they separated.
He kept his word, and on the following night all three were gathered about the table on which Phil kept his radio set, when the bell rang and Benton was ushered into the room.
The Radio Boys gave him a rousing welcome, and he on his part was unaffectedly glad to see them.
“How are you feeling?” asked Phil, as he drew up a chair for him.
“Fine as silk,” replied Benton. “This old head of mine has stopped its buzzing, and outside a little soreness I’m as well as ever. It takes nothing less than an axe to kill us old leathernecks,” he added with a grin.
“I see that you fellows are radio fans,” he went on, as he settled himself comfortably and nodded his head in the direction of the apparatus on the table.
“Thirty-third degree,” replied Phil. “Are you a member of the fraternity, too?”
“I’m crazy over it,” said Benton, as he bent over to examine the set. “I see you’ve got all the latest wrinkles, super-regenerative circuit and all that. What’s your range?”
“Easily over a thousand miles,” replied Phil, “and probably a good deal more than that. On quiet nights we’ve frequently picked up the signals of the Eiffel Tower in Paris and the station at Nauen, Germany. We’ve talked as far as Texas, and any night we want to we can listen in on a radio broadcast from Newark, Pittsburgh, Detroit and Chicago. We keep watches regulated by the nightly signals from Arlington. It’s a peach of a set all right.”