“I wish I had her ball to toss back,” said Tom.
It was odd that he should think of that now.
In the lean-to Roy lit the lantern and presently the whole troop was divided into two groups; one was getting ready the stretcher and helping Doc Carson, and the other stood about the lean-to watching Tom, who sat on the rickety grocery box before the wireless apparatus. Roy stood anxiously at his shoulder; the others waited, speaking to each other in an undertone occasionally, but never to Tom. By common consent they seemed to leave this thing for him to do, and there was about him a certain detachment from the others which suggested slightly his manner that day when he had been arrested.
Boys came and went, Mr. Ellsworth and others departed hastily with Doc, the little group in the lean-to watched and waited while Tom, apparently unconscious of all about him, sat there adjusting his spark gap. Occasionally he spoke in an undertone to Roy, but seemed oblivious of all else.
“R. V., isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Roy.
“Better look and make sure.”
Roy consulted a note book. “R. V. is right,” said he.
Tom laid his hand upon the key and adjusted his head receivers. Then up into the darkness and out into the vast trackless sky went the call for R. V.
It was then the boys noticed the cloaked figure of the girl standing in the background watching. “I thought you went with Doc and Mr. Ellsworth,” someone said.