“Your what?” asked her chum, laughing, as the two ran up the veranda steps.
“Radio suit,” repeated Amy seriously. “Those overalls were once our farmerette costumes; but the war is over and the sword is beaten into a plowshare, and our farmerette overalls have become radio rigging suits. Whew! Don’t go so fast, Jess. I can’t climb stairs and talk at the same time.”
In Jessie’s bedroom the two girls changed to the overall suits Amy had mentioned. Young as Jessie Norwood was, she had a suite of rooms to herself. In the long sitting room was her radio cabinet, a much better set than the ordinary house instrument. It had a two-step amplifier and a horn, but there were the usual headphones as well.
“That concert is due right now,” Jessie said, coming out into the big room. “Let us see how it sounds before we lower the aerial. It may have been partly static last night.”
She opened the receiving switch and fastened on the head harness. Amy came over and sat down, likewise affixing one set of the phones. Jessie tuned the machine with practised hand. At first the chattering noises in the air meant nothing intelligible.
“But it’s awfully loud,” murmured the puzzled Amy. “Why, Jess! I never heard your set so loud.”
“Goodness! That isn’t radio,” Jessie declared suddenly.
“Wha-a-at?” drawled the puzzled Amy.
“That’s an airplane!” cried Jessie. “It must be coming right this way.”
“Oh! Over the house!” gasped her chum. “It’s zooming, Jess! Look!”