“I am glad that you think I have done a pretty decent job with my affair up at the Cedar Hill Station of the wireless circuit, Hugh,” remarked Arthur.
“It was only what I expected to find. I happened to know what a clever hand you were at all such contraptions, Arthur,” the scout master told him.
“And to think how fortunate it was that we were all there just when my aerials were working in sympathy with that Government station over on the coast near Cape Cod,” continued the other with a happy light dancing in his eyes. “Say, let me tell you it was the proudest time of my whole life when I stood there and actually read a part of that Marconigram sent from the beach station to some other point, telling about a wreck that had happened on the coast. What was better, each of you had the pleasure of listening to some of that message too, sent a hundred miles away from here.”
“Yes,” said Hugh, “and that was further than I had ever heard a message before by wireless. One thing seems sure, Arthur, if they let us get in touch with you, we can have great times while we’re away from home. And that code you gave me will enable us to simplify matters just fine. A letter stands for a sentence to the home folks, and every one of us has a particular sign. By the way, who’s heard the latest news about our friend, the Russian bear man, and his pet?”
“Somebody was saying at our house they heard he meant to be around on crutches soon,” remarked Billy, “but we happen to know the reason he won’t leave town till he can pay another visit up there to the rocky side of old Stormberg. He wants to gather in that snug little nest egg he’s got hidden away there. He sold his bear to the park people, who are thinking of starting a sort of zoo, you must know, to interest the children and teach them more about wild animals than they can ever get from traveling shows.”
“I’m glad of that,” Hugh observed. “Whenever any of us happens to be in the park we can give the old chap some peanuts, and remember the great times we had up there when we found him hitched to that tree, and as hungry as they make them.”
“Wonder if he’ll always look at me the same way he did then,” mused Billy as he rubbed his chin reflectively. “Honest, fellows, I believe only for that loaf of Mrs. Benton’s home-made bread that I tossed him as a coaxer, he’d have taken a nab at one of my legs. But we did our duty as scouts, didn’t we?”
“Why, we found a hungry and thirsty bear tied up, and not only fetched him water in our hats but fed him with the best there was,” Arthur went on to say in a tone that was full of boyish satisfaction. “Then not only that but we tracked his master, and rescued him from that bad hole, fixed his broken leg, toted him all the way to the hospital on a stretcher that only scouts would know how to make, and then brought the bear down in the bargain. I’m glad I took my camera that last time because I got a dandy picture of him standing on his hind legs and dancing, holding that long pole all the while. I have to laugh every time I look at that picture, boys. It enlarges fine, and some day I’ll print each of you one six inches square, because all three of us are in the picture, along with Dancing Jumbo.”
“That’s good of you to make such an offer, Arthur,” avowed Billy, “and I’ve got just the right place to put it over the desk in my den. It’s fine to have something to show for your work, and a picture is the best every time. When you look at it you seem to be living the whole thing over again. That album of yours is something I never get tired of hanging over whenever I’m at your house. What great times it covers, and how some of those adventures stand out, eh?”
“How about that new member of the Foxes, Monkey Stallings, though I believe he is called Eben at home? Have you seen enough of him to know whether he’s going to make a good addition to our troop, Hugh?” Arthur asked, changing the subject.