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"And committed a radio crime," broke in the alleged evil genius. "Don't you know the rules governing that distress signal?" "There he is again," "Crusoe" dot-and-dashed. "Who are you?" demanded Cub. "I am Canadian amateur," was the reply. "That fellow who sent the distress signal is a Canadian college student trying to put over a college prank. I am on his trail to prevent him.
But at last he caught a message from the island, and the conversation, translated from code, that took place between him and Hal, following a few introductory inconsequentials, was as follows: "I listened-in last night and heard your arrangements for today," the Canadian dot-and-dashed. "When are you coming to Rockport?" "Two of us are on the way," Hal replied.
"My, if I only had an extension receiver," he thought. "How I would like to hear what the fellow he's talking with has to say." Even as this longing came to his mind, "Bill" ceased to send and listened attentively to something that was coming to him "over the wireless." Presently he swung the aerial switch over and began to send again. "I tell you you are in danger," he dot-and-dashed.
The motor boat passed around it, and meanwhile the radio-compass found the strength of its receiving directly down stream. Cub communicated this condition to the cabin, and Hal dot-and-dashed the following to "VAX": "Where are you? We can't see you." "I saw you," was the reply. "I climbed a tree and saw you headed right for this group of islands." "No, no," objected Hal.
This hazing gang seems to consist of some pretty rough characters. I want to get in touch with my uncle, Alvin's father." "I will call your uncle on the telephone and tell him what you say," the Port Hope amateur dot-and-dashed in reply. "Ask him to come over to your house, and tell him I will explain everything to him through you, and then perhaps he can form a plan for his son's rescue."
This fellow we've got is posing as Hal's cousin and he's advising us to go back home." Running Down a Radio Fake "You say you are V A X?" dot-and-dashed Hal to the amateur who had thus represented himself. "Yes," was the reply. "What is your name?" "Alvin Baker." "Where do you live?" "At Port Hope." "Where are you now?" "On the river with some friends."
The message received was more startling than any preceding. "They are coming ashore," was dot-and-dashed into the three boys' ears. "I see four bad-looking men. I am going to run before they see me and maybe swim. Good-bye." "What in the world shall we do?" exclaimed Bud. "I'm going to find out," declared Cub, as he dashed out of the cabin. Hal, meanwhile, was busy again.
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