Radio Boys Loyalty; Or, Bill Brown Listens In

"They've got a splendid broadcasting station at the Tech, Bill."

"I know it; hence my general exuberance. And if we don't get at it once in a while, it'll be because we can't break in."

"What do you want to shout into it first off?"

"Why, I thought you knew, Gus. I've got it all fixed, date and time, for Professor Gray and Mr. Hooper to listen in. They're the chaps that are responsible for our getting into the Tech and they deserve our first message. I'll explain to President Field and I know he won't object."

"What's this you were telling me about hazing?" asked Gus, but as though really little interested.

"Terry Watkins was telling me; his cousin went there. Lost a new hat the third day, a pair of glasses the fourth and most of his clothes the fifth. His dad has a lot of dough, so he needn't have minded, but that won't be the case with us. I guess it's me for carrying a gun."

"If they're mean enough to pick on you, old scout, I'll carry one, too, but I think you'll be exempt. If I'm to be a victim, I reckon I'll have to grin and take--"

"No; you won't, either. We've come here to study-not to fool-and we haven't got money to spend on ruined duds just to gratify a lot of chumps. There are better things, too, than a gun; not so crude and not illegal."

"I can imagine," laughed Gus, and turned again to watch the fleeting landscape.

The chums journeyed in silence then, their minds busy conjecturing what their experiences and adventures were to be, after they became students of the Marshallton Technical School, which they were rapidly approaching and from which they held high hopes of gaining much knowledge. The institution, despite its modest name, was nothing less than a university of broad constructive teaching, with departments of engineering, electricity, chemistry, manual training and biology.

It was within the first two of these departments that William Brown and Augustus Grier were to concentrate their mental efforts. They had, as already related, earned this long-hoped-for opportunity to gain technical knowledge and training by showing what they could do along these lines. They had installed a small water-power plant and an electric lighting system for the Hooper estate, and had also won greater credit for constructing high-class radio receivers through which they had heard a no less personage than Thomas A. Edison speak. The boys had been saving their earnings to meet tech school expenses for at least a year. Their high school records, good common sense and scientific inclinations had been such as to receive the plaudits of their teacher, Professor Gray, and the members of their class.

Intense application and mental force characterized William Brown, who was called "Billy" by the high school girls-fine, bright-minded young women-and "Bill" by the boys. He was just Bill to nearly everyone. His friends referred to him as the school genius; and such he had proved to be on more than one occasion. Though compelled by a twisted leg to use a crutch and to abstain from strenuous physical participation in sports, he was a favorite. All saw his worth, and Professor Gray said of him that he possessed the mind of a philosopher and the expressiveness of a poet.

Cheerful, delighting in the strength of others, Bill's natural love of friendly contests and admiration for physical prowess impelled him to adopt as his best chum Gus Grier, who had much in common with him concerning mechanical matters. Gus was in many things almost the exact counterpart of the lame boy.

Gus was bright, shrewd, practical, reticent. He had the sort of mentality that made him a good follower, with enough native wit to discover his own limitations and to acknowledge Bill's superior characteristics. Both displayed that loyalty of friendship whose rare quality has made notable history. Sometimes their classmates called the boys David and Jonathan, or Damon and Pythias; sometimes, the head and body, the former referring to Bill and the latter, with no less admiration, to Gus because of his splendid athletic ability. The muscles of Gus were quite as remarkable in their way as Bill's brains; and both boys were modest, aiding one another in every time of need, doubling all their efforts with the term "we," which Bill used oftenest.

If Bill mastered a mental problem it was: "We did it by this method." If Gus entered upon a trial of strength or physical skill it was: "We'll do our best," and then: "Well, we won, but it was no cinch"-in deference to the efforts of a beaten opponent. All this was a matter of course. And now, regarding the present, either friend might have said, "We've passed our exams and we're going to Tech."

"Guilford! Guilford! All out for Marshallton!" shouted the brakeman, and in half a minute the boys were climbing into a taxi bound for the school; in half an hour they were facing the great buildings which stood for so much learning, and in half a day they had matriculated and were of the student body.

* * *

"Come here quick and watch this!"

"What's going on? I've got this letter--"

"This is some livelier than letter writing, Bill," Gus declared, and a moment later Bill was of the same mind.

The boys gazed out of the window of their room in the school dormitory to witness an upper-class reception of one of the freshmen, a lad of almost tender years, yet husky and of undoubted good nature. He was expensively dressed to begin with, a little foppish in appearance even, and it was known that his people were very wealthy. Such as he, then, could well afford the sacrifice demanded of him to become a member in high standing of the Marshallton student body. Whatever was done, short of actual physical injury, must contribute to the violently initiated youth's general glorification, at least this was the popular impression. It occurred to but few to make serious objections to that which was customary in the school.

Hazing, long since taboo or forbidden in many educational institutions, was still a part of Marshallton Tech, by reason of the belief that a high mentality and virile spirit demanded the extreme mental and physical show-down which hazing is wrongly supposed to bring out. Though severe enough, perhaps the initiations were not so terrible as to call for much complaint.

"By cracky, that's rotten!" exclaimed Gus, as he watched the progress of the affair.

"Worse than mean!" agreed Bill.

This comment was called forth as the victim, in his efforts to escape from his tormentors, had his coat and vest torn from him. In a little time his shirt was reduced to ribbons. A fine gold watch and its broken chain lay on the ground among the feet of the struggling boys, and an unsuspecting heel soon reduced the time-piece to little more value than the metal in the case. A wallet slid out of a pocket and disgorged from its folds considerable cash and paper, some of which the bystanders gathered up with much difficulty. The freshman's panama, kicked about in the dust, was not rescued until it resembled an uprooted weed.

"We wouldn't enjoy being treated that way," commented Gus, the sentimental.

"We couldn't afford it," amended Bill, the practical. "That sort of thing may be well enough for rich fellows, though I think it's rank foolishness at any time. But, Gus, we've got to dodge it in some way."

Gus made no reply. He was thinking that his chum was right, but, still interested in the excitement without, he left the usual whatever-it-must-be with Bill. When Bill spoke again, some few minutes after the well-hazed youth had made a get-away, Gus listened with interest.

"We can get the materials," Bill finished, "and it won't take long to do the work."

And it did not. Having procured a permit from the professor of physics-and no one could have refused Bill with his convincing tongue-the boys returned well loaded to their room. They took from a paper packing box, whose contents had been hidden from the curious, a lot of wire, some switches, some acid and a number of storage battery cells.

On their way from the central building the chums had been stopped by a number of upper classmen. It was mid-afternoon, an optional study or playtime, and just the hour for brewing mischief. This is what happened.

"Come on there, Freeporters! Put down those boxes; we have a little business to transact with you," the spokesman called.

Gus gazed calmly at the five militant youths in front of him. Without undue egotism, he possessed an easy confidence, and he knew that, barring some bumps and scratches, that bunch would need assistance in hazing him. He would have complied forthwith, had not Bill given an ultimatum. With a small box under his left arm, he shifted his crutch to his left fingers and slipped the free hand into his pocket, drawing forth about the wickedest-looking pistol that any thug would use. The five began backing away, the spokesman turning quite pale and the others, no doubt, feeling much as he looked.

"Would you Indians want to haze me?" Bill asked.

"Aw, no. You're exempt, of course. We don't bother with cripples, kids, old ladies nor natural criminals." This attempt to be witty trailed off weakly.

"Well, my friend here is carrying glass and we can't tarry now. Any interference with him will result in my turning criminal instanter, and I'm keen to do so. Go on, Gus."

Gus went on, and Bill, with weapon still in hand, followed after. He turned to call back to the flabbergasted five:

"You can find us in our room any time after to-day. Getting hazed is really great sport, and we won't pull any guns on you then!"

Hardly half an hour elapsed before there came a knock at the door of the room occupied by Bill and Gus. A moment before, Gus had been down to get a pair of pliers that had dropped out of the window and two wide-eyed lads in the hallway had hailed him:

"That crutch-thumper that rooms with you is in for the G. B.," one had said and the other had added:

"Say, he must be a blamed fool to carry a gun and pull it here. 'Prex' won't stand for that."

Bill called a "Come in" in answer to the knock, and no less than President Field and Professor Whitcomb, both looking very stern, entered.

"Brown and Grier, I have heard with real pain and very great surprise, after the letter from Professor Gray highly recommending you two lads, that you have so soon shown utter disregard for the rules, the standing, the decency of our institution by carrying and drawing a deadly weapon, a pistol, and on slight provocation. This is deserving of instant expul--"

"Sure is, Doctor Field, if it were so. But it isn't. And please, also, do not hold the idea that it was on slight provocation. They were going to haze us, or rather Gus here, Doctor. We had just seen something of this sort, with the result that Fleming, of Chicago, had a ruined suit and panama, a fine watch destroyed, and a lot of money and papers probably lost. We came here to study; our means are limited; if we met with such a disaster our finances wouldn't stand it and we'd have to go home; that's all there is to it. Now, I can't offer you a cigar, Doctor, because you don't and I don't smoke, but if I did I'd probably carry them in this case."

With that Bill drew forth the nickeled pistol again, snapped it open and disclosed a rather unique cigar case which he extended toward the men.

"Oh, you mean that this thing was--"

"Just that, Doctor. I hope we have respect for the institution to which we have come for a much needed and wanted education. But I saw no harm in fooling those chaps who think they have the right to compel us to lose a lot of time and money. Am I right?"

President Field was human; he tilted back his head and laughed most heartily, nudging the professor also, in quite a boyish way.

"We are greatly relieved, and I wish you had scared those young rascals more than you did. Professor, we shall simply have to put a stop to this hazing-stop it under pain of dismissal. And this joke, now-it should be mentioned at chapel, eh? I really want to thank you, young gentlemen, for doing the school a distinct favor."

"We hope to add to the joke somewhat by to-morrow, if you will kindly hold up that hazing ban for one day."

"And how is that, may I ask?"

"Would you mind if we keep it a small secret until then? We can promise to refrain from anything dreadful."

"But then we--"

"Please, Doctor. This, if you will trust us, will do more real good than anything the faculty can do in the way of verboten. Just twenty-four hours, Doctor."

"Well, well, we shall see. From what Gray wrote, I think we may trust you. Good evening, boys."

* * *

At the long supper table in the spacious basement of the dormitory, many curious glances were aimed at Bill and Gus, and many a terse remark was shot at them respecting their departure from the honorable ways and the rules of the school. Most pronounced were the expressions of wonder over the fact that the carrier of concealed weapons had not been expelled, or suspended at once. Finally a sophomore whose influence seemed to count most gave voice to the prevailing sentiment:

"Well, I must say if that gun had been pulled on me, I'd have made the cad use it."

"I'll bet you would, too, Siebold!" declared an admirer.

Bill got on his feet and there was an instant hush. There was something to expect from the daring and apparently successful gunman. He laughed, and that also charged the atmosphere. When he spoke he had undivided attention:

"You would have run like any other scared puppy," Bill said to Siebold. "We would have listened to you ki-yi-ing for about a mile. Say, look here, you hazers: You're a bunch of muts! Hear me? The whole lot of you couldn't haze anybody that puts up a fight, if you played anyway fair and gave a little notice. We'll give you a dare, Siebold, you and all your deputies, though I suppose you'll send them and hang back yourself. We'll be ready to take all the hazing you fellows can give to-morrow afternoon at about three o'clock; only there isn't one of you who will have the nerve to show up. Oh, 'no weapons?' That was only a cigar case I pulled on you to-day. It wouldn't shoot, but, by cracky, it worked!" And Bill laughed, with Gus and a few others who admired the boy's nerve.

There was a sensation at once. Never before in the history of the school had a freshman dared the upper classmen to haze him, or had named the time and place. Would such a plan hold out?

It would, and it did. The very novelty of the thing had assured it, as Bill expected. Some little time before the hour given, a number of would-be spectators began to gather in the hallway, as Bill and Gus, studying in their room, could tell from the tramping of feet outside their door. Then there was the louder tramp of feet coming nearer and without a preliminary call or knock the door flew open. The chums looked up from their books with well simulated surprise. In the doorway and crowding behind stood several upper classmen and easy confidence was written all over their eager faces.

"Come right in, gentlemen; we are at your service," said Bill.

"Ho, men! What's this? Wire entanglements?"

The question was opportune; flimsily stretched across in front of the attacking party and about shoulder high were some copper wires, and about equally spaced below were others. It could be seen that these offered no serious check, as anyone could spread them apart and push through. It was evidently with this intention that the hazers fairly struggled through the door in the effort of each to be first-at least half a dozen youths had their hands on the wires. Then Bill leaned back against the wall and his hand came in contact with a button.

Pandemonium! Cries of distress, yells of something more than discomfort, howls of dismay, calls for succor-the S O S in other than code signals. This was a very pretty chorus increased by some others who, hastily coming to the rescue, also became entangled. The rest, chiefly onlookers, refrained from too close acquaintance with the very apparent cause of all the trouble. But the truly crucial part of the crisis was due to the fact that those who suffered by contact with the wires found it impossible to get away from the source of distress.

* * *