Third Warning / A Mystery Story for Girls

by Roy J. Snell

From behind the curtain came the murmur of many voices. How many? Florence could not guess. One thing she knew, these were but a handful compared to the invisible host waiting out there in the vast spaces beyond the theater’s walls.

Now someone outside the curtain was speaking, welcoming the audience. There was laughter and applause.

Then, slowly—ever so slowly—the curtain rose. And there they were seated before a theater packed to the very doors.

Florence caught her breath. She fixed her eyes on the clock. At exactly seven fifteen the show would go on the air. Fascinated, she watched the long second hand sweep around the dial. And then—

The girl in red drew her fingers across all the chords in her harp. The little dark-eyed Spaniard on a stool thrummed his guitar, the big man with a bass viol drew his bow, the horns, drums, the violins joined in with a crashing crescendo. In the strange silence that followed a voice said, “The Adventurers’ Club is on the air, coast to coast.”

Once again Florence watched the circling of that second hand. At exactly seven twenty-seven she was to go on the air. Never had that hand raced so madly. Her heart kept time to its racing. At last here was a nod from Tim O’Hara.

Her knees trembled as she marched up to the microphone. But like a flash it came to her, “All my good friends are listening out there. They are part of the invisible host. I shall speak to them.”

And she did. The audience before her thrilled and chilled at hearing of her adventures. They laughed when she told how Plumdum got his name and were breathlessly silent as she told of being trapped by the flames, of Plumdum’s parachute jump, and of the mad moose. As she told of her escape they burst into applause. But to her, the great, invisible audience counted most. And when, in her last tense sixty seconds, she sent out an appeal, it was for one person somewhere out there on the air, the boy with the crimson sweater.

Ten seconds of applause followed her speech. This was broken in upon by the wild wail of the harp strings, and her share of the big show was at an end.

At an end? Not quite. Truth is, she was only half through. At ten thirty there would be another show for the western states. And before that, she knew, the whole cast was to be treated to a banquet in one of the show places of New York. What a night!