“A slack wire? Who walks it—you or Jess?”
“Aw, Burd!” ejaculated Darry. “It’s radio. Don’t you recognize an aerial when you see it?”
“You have a fine ground connection,” scoffed Burd.
“Don’t you worry about us,” Jessie took heart to say. “We know just what to do. Go upstairs again, Amy, and haul up this end of the contraption. I’ve got it untwisted.”
A little later, when the aerial was secure and Jessie went practically to work affixing the ground connection, Darrington Drew said:
“Why, I believe you girls do know what you are about.”
“Don’t you suppose we girls know anything at all, Darry?” demanded his sister from overhead. “You boys have very little on us.”
“Don’t even want us to help you?” handsome Darry asked, grinning up at her.
“Not unless you approach the matter with the proper spirit,” Jessie put in. “No lofty, high-and-mighty way goes with us girls. We can be met only on a plane of equality. But if you want 42 to,” she added, smiling, “you can go up to my room where Amy is and pull that rope tauter. I admit that your masculine muscles have their uses.”
They were still having a lot of fun out of the securing of the aerials when suddenly Burd Alling discovered a figure planted on the gravel behind him. He swept off his cap in an elaborate bow, and cried: