“What are you saying, Amy?” demanded Jessie in amazement. “Why, Henrietta’s cousin’s name is Bertha——”
“Bertha Blair—yes!” Then Amy giggled. “I mean his last name. Blair.”
“Well, that has nothing to do with our knowledge of the sending end of radio telephony,” said Jessie, with some impatience. “We saw the soundproof rooms, and the heavy curtains they draw about the glass walls to deaden all exterior noises, and the transmitter horns into which the performers spoke or sang. But a lot of it I didn’t understand.”
“Neither did I understand it,” confessed her friend.
“I have been reading up on that one at Stratfordtown. It really is a wonderfully powerful transmission set. Think of it! A five hundred watt, three to six hundred meter broadcasting set. And with it they use an amplifier that magnifies the voice a hundred thousand times—and that without producing any distortion.”
“Humph!” grumbled Amy. “Then when Belle Ringold sings with that chorus it isn’t going to sound much worse than usual, is it?”
“Don’t talk that way. She and Sally are mad enough at us because of the other night,” said Jessie.
“My telling you what I think of the quality of her singing voice isn’t going to make Belle any madder,” chuckled Amy. “But Darry says she won’t speak to him now—nor to Burd Alling. Of course, they are terribly unhappy about it,” grinned Amy.
“Sally and Belle are awfully busy about something,” Jessie said reflectively. “Nell Stanley told me that there is something new afoot. Mrs. Ringold was offended the other day at the meeting of the hospital committee. She came to Doctor Stanley with a long tale of woe. But you know how the doctor is. Nell said he refused to take sides. The hospital is something bigger than a church interest, and he told Belle’s mother so.”
“I hope she isn’t planning to do anything to hurt the hospital concert,” said Amy quickly.