“Oh, I am dumb!” announced Amy. “Go ahead, Jess; you tell him.”
So Jessie tried to put the case as plainly as possible; but from the look on Chapman’s face she knew that the chauffeur thought that this was rather a fantastic matter.
“Why, Chapman!” she cried, “you do not know much about this radio business, do you?”
“Only what I have seen of it here, Miss Jessie. I heard the music over your wires. But I did not suppose that anybody could talk into the thing and other folks could hear like––”
“Oh! You don’t understand,” Jessie interrupted. “No ordinary radio set broadcasts. It merely receives.”
As clearly as she could she explained what sort of plant there must be from which the strange girl had sent out her cry for help.
“Of course, you understand, the girl must have got a chance on the sly to speak into the broadcasting horn. Now, all the big broadcasting stations 148 are registered with the Government. And if secret ones are established the Government agents soon find them out.
“It might be, if the people who imprisoned this girl are the ones we think, they may have a plant for the sending out of information that is illegal. For instance, it might have some connection with race track gambling. One of the women is interested in racing and the other in automobile contests. If the broadcasting plant is near a race course or an autodrome––”
“Now you give me an idea, Miss Jessie!” exclaimed Chapman suddenly. “I remember a stock farm over behind Parkville where the barns are painted red. And there is a silo or two. Besides, it is near the Harrimay Race Course. I could drive over there in the morning, if you want to go. Mr. Norwood won’t mind, I am sure.”
“Would you go, Amy?” Jessie asked, hesitatingly.