"That's a swell lock," observed Joe, grinning. "It looks strong enough to discourage anybody, but Jimmy's fish-hook licked it to a frazzle in no time."

"That's the way with a lot of padlocks," said Bob, as the two started off in search of the others. "It would take dynamite to break them open, but they're easy enough to pick."

"If you know how, that is," supplemented Joe, with a grin.

"Oh, that's understood," replied Bob. "It's hard to do anything without the know-how."

They soon picked up the two sentinels, who were greatly relieved to see them.

"I thought you were going to spend the night there," grumbled Jimmy. "What happened? Did you both fall asleep in the middle of it?"

"You're an ungrateful rascal, Doughnuts," answered Joe. "Here Bob and I have worked like slaves for the last hour, while all you had to do was loaf around in the nice fresh air. Then instead of thanking us, you growl because we took so long."

"Well, don't get sore," protested Jimmy. "I suppose we should all be so happy over this discovery that we shouldn't mind anything. I'll bet your father will be tickled to death, Herb."

"I guess he will," agreed Herb. "Although we're still a long way from getting back the stolen silk. There's no doubt that we've struck a mighty promising clue, that much is sure."

Bob was about to make some remark when he checked himself and halted in a listening attitude.

"I think some one is coming!" he exclaimed, in a low tone. "I'm sure I heard voices. Let's duck into the underbrush, quick!"

They were not a moment too soon, for they had hardly reached a place of concealment behind a great fallen tree when two men appeared around a bend in the path. One was the same whom they had followed a few hours before, while the other was a stranger to them. This man was of a desperate and unprepossessing appearance, and a bulge under his coat suggested the possible presence of a weapon.

The boys congratulated themselves that this formidable looking personage had not arrived half an hour sooner, for they were of course unarmed and would have been hard put to it had they been caught in the cabin.

They lay snugly hidden in their retreat behind the fallen tree until the voices of the two men had died away in the direction of the lonely cabin. Then they returned cautiously to the path and hastened toward the main road. This they reached without meeting any one else, and set out for camp at a pace that caused Jimmy to cry for mercy. But the shadows lay long athwart the path, camp was still an indefinite distance away, and they hurried the unfortunate youth along at a great rate in spite of his piteous protests.

"It will be the best thing in the world for you, Doughnuts," said Joe unfeelingly. "What you need is plenty of exercise to take that fat off you."

"Besides, think of what a fine appetite you'll have when we reach camp," laughed Bob.

"I've got all the appetite now that I know how to have," groaned Jimmy. "You fellows haven't a heart between you. Where other people keep their hearts, you've all got chunks of Vermont granite."

"Flash a little speed, and don't talk so much," advised Herb. "Be like the tramp that the fellow met going down the street one day with an expensive rug."

"Who wants to be like a tramp?" objected Jimmy.

"You do, when you want to loaf all the time," retorted Herb. "But now I'll tell you a good joke to make the way seem shorter. Jimmy got me started, and now I'll have to get it out of my system."

"Is it about a tramp?" asked Jimmy suspiciously.

"Yes. And it's a pippin," Herb assured him. "It seems this tramp was running down the street with an expensive rug over his shoulder, and somebody stopped him and began to ask questions.

"'Where did you steal that rug from?' asked the suspicious citizen.

"'I didn't steal it,' answered the tramp, trying to look insulted. 'A lady in that big house down the street handed it to me and told me to beat it, and I am.'"

"Say, that's a pretty good joke, for you, Herb," said Bob, laughing with the others.

"Oh, that's nothing. I've got others just as good," said Herb eagerly. "Now, here's one that I made up myself the other day, but I forgot to tell it to you. Why——"

"Suffering tomcats!" exclaimed Joe. "Don't tell us anything that you made up yourself, Herb! Or, at least, wait until we get back and have supper, so that we'll be strong enough to stand it."

"That's what I say," agreed Jimmy. "I'm so hungry that I can't think of anything but supper, anyway. I know your joke is as good as usual, Herb, but I wouldn't be able to appreciate it just now."

"It's discouraging to a high-class humorist to have to throw away his choice offerings on a bunch like this," said Herb, in an injured voice. "Some day, when I am far away, you'll wish you had listened to those gems of humor."

"I'd like to believe you, but that hardly seems possible," said Bob. "Can you imagine the day ever coming when we'd actually want to sit down and listen to Herb's line of humor?"

"My imagination isn't up to anything like that," replied Joe. "But, of course, you don't really ever have to ask Herb to spill some of those jokes. The hard thing is to keep him from doing it."

"Oh, all right," retorted Herb. "Only, remember that it is 'easier to criticize than to create.'"

For some time after this they plodded along hoping to reach camp before it got entirely dark. Bob was the first to see a distant point of light through the trees, and he emitted a whoop that startled the others.



CHAPTER XX

ON THE TRAIL

"I can see the lights from the camp!" Bob exclaimed. "Use your eyes, fellows. A little to the left of us, through the trees."

"Well, it's about time," groaned Jimmy, as they all looked in the direction indicated. "I was just getting ready to lie down and die peacefully. I couldn't travel another mile if you paid me for it."

"Oh, buck up, Doughnuts, and get a move on!" exclaimed Bob. "You never know what you can do until you try. Come on, let's take it on the double."

He and Joe and Herbert broke into a lively trot, and rather than be left behind Jimmy overcame his reluctance for further effort, and with much puffing and blowing and fragmentary complaint managed to hold the pace until they arrived at the mess house.

Luckily for them, supper had been delayed owing to the failure of some supplies to arrive on time, and the lumbermen had just started eating when the radio boys burst in through the door.

The lumbermen stopped eating long enough to welcome their arrival, and they found their places set as usual.

"Glory be!" exclaimed Jimmy, as he slid into his chair. "If there were a pie-eating contest on to-night, I could show you fellows some real class. I feel empty right down to my toes."

"It's lucky we got a head start, Champ," remarked one of the men, with a grin. "Pass everything down this way, you amateurs. There's a professional here wants to show us some fancy eating."

By this time Jimmy was too busily occupied to make any answer, and the other radio boys were also showing good appetites. The long trip and the excitement of their discovery of the secret code had sharpened their naturally keen appetites until for once they all felt on equal terms with the lumbermen. Jimmy surpassed himself, and great was the admiration expressed for his ability as a trencherman.

After supper the boys sought out Mr. Fennington and told him of their discovery in the lonely cabin. Then Bob showed him the copy he had made of the code, and Mr. Fennington studied this a long time with knit brows.

"There seems little doubt that you boys have unearthed an important clue, and one that may easily lead to the discovery of the crooks who stole my merchandise," he said, at length. "I suppose I should put this information in the hands of the police. And yet perhaps we had better say nothing until we learn something further. With your radio outfit you may be able to catch another code message that would give us more definite information, and then it would be time enough to call in the police."

"I think that would be the best thing to do, Dad," agreed Herb. "As soon as we get back home we'll fix it so one of us will be at the set a good part of every afternoon and evening, and we'll be almost certain to catch some more messages like the last one."

His father nodded, and was still considering the matter when there came a knock at the door. Herb crossed over and opened it, and he and his friends uttered exclamations of astonishment and delight as they recognized the visitor. He was none other than Frank Brandon, the government radio inspector.

On his part, he was no less pleased to see them, and they all shook hands heartily, with many questions and explanations, after which the radio inspector was introduced to Mr. Fennington.

"I suppose you're all wondering what I'm doing up here," he said, after the greetings were over.

"Yes, in a way," admitted Bob. "Although we know that your position calls you all over, and we may expect to meet you almost any old place."

"Yes, that's a fact," replied Brandon. "I'm up here on the same old business, too. Somewhere in this neighborhood there's an unauthorized sending station, but in these thick woods it may prove a rather difficult place to locate exactly. However, it will only be a matter of time when we nail it."

The boys glanced at one another, and the same thought was in all their minds. They remembered the radio apparatus they had seen in the lonely cabin, and had little doubt that this would prove to be the unauthorized station of which the radio man was in search.

He must have read something of this in their expression, for he looked searchingly from one to another.

"Looks to me as though you fellows knew something," he remarked. "I might have known if there was anything going on in the radio line within fifty miles of where you are that you'd know something about it."

"Well, I've got a hunch that we could lead you right to the place you're looking for," said Bob quietly.

"What?" shouted Brandon, leaping excitedly to his feet. "Do you really mean that? Tell me all about it."

For the second time that evening Bob recounted the happenings of their eventful excursion, while the radio inspector listened intently, throwing in a question here and there. When Bob had finished he made no comment for a few minutes.

Then he took the copy of the code and examined it intently, jotting down phrases here and there in his own notebook.

"Well," he said at length, "this looks to be a much bigger thing than I had supposed. Of course I heard of the robbery of the motor-truck, but I never for a moment connected that with this sending station we've been looking for. It seems fairly evident, though, that if we can lay our hands on the operators of the unauthorized sending outfit, we'll also have the perpetrators of that hold-up. This is a case where we'll have to think out every move before we act."

"Just before you arrived I was considering the advisability of putting the matter into the hands of the police," said Mr. Fennington. "What would you do?"

"Keep the whole thing to ourselves for the present," said Mr. Brandon decisively. "I'll send for a couple of good men to come up here and help me, and we'll keep a watch on that cabin for a few days. If this thing got into the papers, it would put the crooks on their guard, and probably spoil our chances of catching them and getting back the loot. I've got a small but extremely efficient receiving and sending set in my car, and if any more code messages are sent out we'll catch them."

His confidence was contagious, and the boys felt almost as though the capture of the criminals had already been accomplished.

"What puzzles me, though," remarked Mr. Fennington, "is how you knew that there was an unauthorized radio sending station in this neighborhood, Mr. Brandon. I should think it would be almost impossible to locate such a station, even approximately."

"On the contrary," replied Frank Brandon, "it is little more than a matter of routine. Probably any of these radio fiends here could explain the method as well as I can, but I'll try to make it plain to you.

"There is a certain type of aerial that has what we call 'directional' properties, that is, when it is shifted around, the incoming signals will be loudest when this loop aerial, as it is called, is directly in line with the sending station. The receiving antenna is wound on a square frame, and when the signals are received at their maximum strength, we know that the frame is in a practically straight line with the sending station we're after."

"Yes, but that still leaves you in the dark as to whether the station is one mile away or a hundred miles," observed Mr. Fennington, as Brandon paused.

"That's very true," answered the other. "And for that reason we can't stop at using just one loop aerial. What we actually do is to have three stations, each one equipped with a loop. These three stations are located a good many miles apart. Now, with these three loops, we have three lines of direction. We lay out these lines on a chart of the territory, and where they intersect, is the place where the unlicensed station is located. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly," said Mr. Fennington. "But what looks like a point on the map may be a large space on the actual territory."

"Oh, yes, our work isn't done by any means after we have got our first rough bearings," continued Brandon. "Having determined the approximate position, we take the loops and receivers to what we know is a place quite near the station we're after, and then we repeat the former process. This time it is much more accurate. Gradually we draw the net tighter until we find the antenna belonging to the offender, and then—well, we make him wish he hadn't tried to fool the government."

"You certainly have it reduced to an exact science," acknowledged Mr. Fennington. "I don't wonder that everybody interested in radio gets to be a fanatic."

"We'll make a 'bug' out of you before we get through, Dad," declared Herb, grinning.

"If my load of silk is recovered through the agency of radio, I'll be enthusiastic enough over it to suit even you fellows," said his father. "It will mean the best set that money can buy for you if I get it back."

"We'll hold you to that promise," threatened Herb. "Radio can do anything," he added, with the conviction of a devotee.

"Well, pretty nearly everything," qualified Mr. Brandon. "A little while ago it was considered marvelous that we could transmit the voice by radio, and now the transmission of photographs by radio has been successfully accomplished."

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Fennington incredulously. "Do you mean to say that an actual recognizable photograph has been sent through the air by radio? That seems almost too much to believe."

"Nevertheless, it has been done," insisted Frank Brandon. "I saw the actual reproduction of one that had been sent from Italy to New York by the wireless route, and while I can't claim that it was perfect, still it was as plain as the average newspaper picture. And don't forget that this is a new phase of the game, and is not past the experimental stage yet."

"Well, after that, I am inclined to agree with Herbert that 'radio can do anything,'" admitted Mr. Fennington.

"I don't think we'll have much trouble making a convert of you," laughed the radio inspector. "No doubt the quickest way, though, will be to recover your stolen shipment, so we'll start working in that direction the first thing in the morning."

And in this he was as good as his word. He was up betimes, getting in touch with headquarters by means of his compact portable outfit. He kept at work until he had received the promise of two trustworthy men, who were to report to him at the lumber camp as soon as they could get there. Then he routed out the radio boys, and after a hasty breakfast they all set out to locate the cabin where the boys had found the code key.



CHAPTER XXI

THE GLIMPSE THROUGH THE WINDOW

The sun was just climbing above the treetops when the radio boys and Frank Brandon set out over the forest road, to the accompaniment of a full chorus of lusty feathered singers. Robin and starling and thrush combined to make the dewy morning gladsome, and the boys whistled back at them and wished Larry Bartlett were there to learn some new notes.

"This would be just his dish," commented Herb. "After he got warmed up, you wouldn't be able to tell him from the birds."

"The only difference is, that he's better," declared Joe. "If he were here now, he'd be teaching the dicky birds a new song or two. That boy is certainly a wonder."

"He's very clever," acknowledged Brandon. "He's getting along wonderfully well at the broadcasting station, and I understand he's had several good offers from the big vaudeville circuits."

"Why doesn't he accept one?" questioned Joe.

"He hasn't fully recovered from the effects of the accident yet. And, besides, he says he likes the radio work better. He can stay in one place, and cut out all the traveling. That seems to be a strong consideration with him."

"I don't know that I can blame him," commented Bob. "I should think that continual jumping around from place to place would get on anybody's nerves."

"Still, it gives one a fine chance to see the country," argued Frank Brandon. "If any of you fellows ever get into radio work in a commercial way, the chances are you won't be able to 'stay put' in one place very long."

"There's one great advantage about traveling, anyway," said Jimmy.

"What's that, Doughnuts?" queried Joe. "I should think that with your restful nature you'd rather stay in the same place and grow old and fat in perfect comfort."

"Oh, that part of it is all right," admitted Jimmy. "But don't forget that different parts of the country have different kinds of cooking. In New York the specialty is shore dinners; go a little South, and you get fried chicken and corn pone cooked by guaranteed southern mammies; go up North, and you get venison steaks; in the West they'll feed you mutton chops as big as a plate. And so it goes."

"You've even forgotten some places," laughed Bob. "How about a steaming dish of beans in Boston?"

"Yes, or frijoles and chile con carne in New Mexico," suggested Herb.

"Cease, cease!" groaned Jimmy. "Why talk about such things when we're such a long way from them? Every time you mention something new it makes me feel hungrier."

"Hungrier!" exclaimed Mr. Brandon. "Why, it's hardly half an hour since we finished breakfast!"

"What has breakfast got to do with it?" demanded the insatiable Jimmy. "That's past and done with. It's time to think of lunch, now."

"You win," laughed Brandon. "Your capacity will make you famous some day."

"It's made him famous already—at least, up here," Bob informed the radio inspector. "Didn't you know that he is the undisputed champion pie eater of the camp?"

"No, I didn't know that, but it doesn't surprise me in the least to hear it," said Brandon, with a smile. "How did he gain his laurels?"

Then Bob told him about the contest, and when he had finished Mr. Brandon laughingly congratulated Jimmy.

"I always had a sneaking idea that you could do it," he admitted. "But after my experience with lumbermen's appetites, I realize that you must have been on your mettle all the way."

"It was rather hard at the end," admitted Jimmy, "but take it all together it was a real pleasure. That cook sure does know how to make good pies," and an expression of blissful reminiscence spread over his round countenance.

"He made a regular pig of himself, but we knew he would, and that's why we had such confidence in him," said Joe.

"Nothing of the kind!" protested Jimmy. "You know you fellows got me into it in the first place. You fixed it all up, and I only went in as a favor to you. But I might know better than to expect gratitude from this bunch."

"You'll find it in the dictionary," Joe informed him. "You ought to be grateful to us for providing you with a feed like that. It would have cost you a lot of money to buy all those pies back home."

"I think he came well out of it, at any rate," interposed the radio man. "But we must now be getting somewhere near that cabin, and we'd better go as quietly as we can. We know that there are two of the gang hanging out in it, and there's no telling how many more there may be."

"Not so very near the cabin yet," answered Bob. "Nearer that tree to which they had the receiving set attached."

Nevertheless, they advanced as silently as possible, keeping a sharp lookout for any sign of the black-moustached stranger and his friend. The woods seemed devoid of human presence other than their own, however, and they saw nothing to arouse suspicion until at length they reached the tree to which the receiving set was fastened. Frank Brandon examined this with interest. The box was securely locked, but the radio man drew a big bunch of various-sized keys from his pocket.

"I want to see what's in this box, but first I think we'd better post sentries," he said, in a low voice. "Suppose you go back a few hundred feet the way we came, Jimmy. You go the same distance in the other direction, Herb. And Joe can go a little way up the path that leads toward the cabin. You can stay here and help me get this box open, Bob. If any of you hear some one coming, imitate a robin's note three times, and then keep out of sight. We don't want the crooks to suspect yet that anybody is on their trail."

The three radio boys scattered to their appointed posts, and Frank Brandon proceeded to try key after key in the lock. He had to try fully a dozen before at last the lock clicked and the door of the box swung open.

Inside was a complete radio receiving set, with vacuum tube detector and batteries in perfect working order. Between the roots of the tree an iron pipe had been driven into the earth to act as a ground. The antenna was strung from top to bottom of the tree on the side away from the path, and there was nothing to differentiate the box from an ordinary wire telephone set, except that it was slightly larger. There were a number of regular wire telephones scattered throughout the woods, to aid in fighting forest fires, so that anybody traveling along the path would have been unlikely to give this outfit more than a passing glance, if they noticed it at all. Had the radio boys not chanced to see the black-moustached man listening, with wireless headphones over his ears, the fact that the box contained a wireless receiving outfit might never have been discovered.

Brandon and Bob went carefully over every article of the equipment. They were on the lookout for another notebook such as the boys had found in the cabin, but there was nothing of the kind in the box. When they were satisfied of this, Mr. Brandon carefully replaced everything as he had found it, and snapped the lock shut.

"So much for that!" he exclaimed. "Now, let's get hold of the others and we'll see what that mysterious cabin looks like."

Joe and Herb and Jimmy were soon recalled from their sentry duty, and all set out along the path to the cabin. When they got close to the clearing the three sentries were again posted, while Bob and the inspector made a detour through the woods so as to approach the cabin on the side away from the path, where there was little likelihood of those inside keeping a lookout. Very cautiously they advanced from the concealment of the woods, Frank Brandon with his right hand on the butt of a deadly looking automatic pistol. They crept close to the wall of the cabin, and listened intently for some sign of life within.

That there was at least one man in the cabin, and that he was still sleeping, soon became evident, for they heard the heavy breathing of one sound asleep. Mr. Brandon cautiously raised himself as high as the window, and peered within. From this position he could not see the sleeper, however, and he and Bob moved silently to the other side of the shack. From there they commanded a good view of the interior, and could plainly see the sleeping man, who was the same whom the boys had first encountered the day before.

His black-moustached face was toward them, and Brandon gave a start of recognition, while his fingers tightened on his pistol. For a few moments he stood tense, evidently deciding what to do. Then he beckoned to Bob to follow, and made for the path where the others anxiously awaited them.

"I know that man in there!" exclaimed Brandon excitedly. "He is known as 'Black' Donegan, on account of his black hair and moustache. He's wanted by the police of New York and Chicago, and I guess other cities, too. We could easily get him now, but if we did, the chances are the rest of the gang would take alarm, and we'd miss the chance of bagging them and getting back Mr. Fennington's stolen property. It's hard to say what is the best thing to do."

But on the instant a plan occurred to Bob, and he lost no time in communicating it to the others.



CHAPTER XXII

A NEFARIOUS PLOT

"If this fellow in the cabin is such a bad man, we can't afford to risk losing sight of him," said Bob. "Suppose Joe and Jimmy and I stay here, while Herb goes back with you, Mr. Brandon. We can stay here until your two regulars show up, and Herb can then bring them here to relieve us. How does that strike you?"

"It's a way out of the predicament," answered Frank Brandon, his frown vanishing. "You fellows are apt to have a long vigil, though. My men won't get to the camp until this afternoon, and after that it takes quite a while to reach this place."

"I guess we can stand it," said Bob. "Can't we, fellows?" he asked, glancing at the others.

Both Joe and Jimmy agreed, although the latter had secret misgivings as he thought regretfully of the dinner he would miss. However, such considerations were of little weight just then, and it was finally decided to adopt Bob's plan.

"I'll leave my pistol with you," said Brandon, as he and Herb prepared to leave. "But whatever else you do, steer clear of this gang and don't use firearms unless as a last resort. Remember, that if they once find out their hiding place is discovered, our whole scheme will be ruined."

The boys promised to exercise the greatest caution, and then Mr. Brandon and Herb started back toward camp.

Bob, after a brief inspection, dropped the deadly automatic pistol into his pocket, and then the three friends considered how they might best keep watch on the cabin without being discovered. First of all, at Joe's suggestion, they armed themselves with serviceable clubs, that might come in handy in time of necessity. Then they slipped silently into the underbrush, and worked their way along until they had attained a position where they commanded a view of the cabin's only door.

The spot they had chosen was surrounded by dense thickets, and one might have passed within ten feet without spying them. Bob carefully parted the bushes and broke off twigs here and there until they could see plainly enough, and yet were securely hidden from the cabin. This done, the boys made themselves as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, and prepared for a long vigil.

They had been in their retreat less than half an hour when the door of the shack was flung open, and the black-moustached man appeared on the threshold. He gazed searchingly about the little clearing, then glanced up at the mounting sun and stretched prodigiously. At length, apparently satisfied that all was as it should be, he turned back into the cabin, and soon the aroma of bacon and coffee came floating down the wind to where the boys lay. Jimmy's nose twitched and his mouth watered, but he thought of the importance of the mission that had been intrusted to them by the radio inspector and stifled his longings.

The man in the cabin ate a leisurely breakfast, and apparently was in no hurry. Indeed, from the way he loitered over the meal, the boys rather suspected that he was awaiting the arrival of some other members of the gang. Nor were they mistaken. After a time the lads could hear the sound of approaching voices, and soon three men entered the clearing and made for the cabin. At the first sound of their voices, the man inside had stepped swiftly to the door, one hand in the bulging pocket of his coat; but when he recognized the others an ugly grin spread over his face, while his hand dropped to his side.

"So you have got here at last, eh?" he snarled. "I'm glad to find you didn't hurry yourselves any. I thought I sent you a wireless message to get here early."

"So you did, chief," spoke up one of the newcomers. "But we couldn't get here no sooner."

"You couldn't?" snapped the other. "Why couldn't you?"

"We got word that one of the government radio inspectors was at the lumber camp, so we had to come here by the long way. We were afraid he might recognize one of us if we happened to bump into him."

"Well, the cops have photoed all of you so often that I don't wonder you're shy," sneered the leader. "But come on inside. There's no use of standing chinning here."

Two of the men muttered sullenly to themselves, but ceased abruptly as the leader's frowning gaze fell on them. They all shuffled into the cabin, and the black-moustached man shut the door with a bang.

"Say," whispered Bob, "we've got to listen in on this pow-wow, fellows. I'm going to sneak up to the window and try to hear what they're saying. They must have some purpose in meeting here like this."

"Well, be mighty careful, Bob," said Joe anxiously. "They're a tough crowd, and we've got to watch our step. If they discover you, head for here, and if we can't get away we'll put up a battle."

"If I have any kind of luck, they won't discover me," Bob assured him. "Just sit tight, and I'll be back in a jiffy."

Very cautiously he crept through the underbrush toward the cabin. In spite of all his care a branch snapped under him and the second time the door was flung wide and the ill-favored leader of the gang stepped out and peered about him.

Bob flattened out as close to the ground as he could get and lay tense, while the outlaw gazed suspiciously at the bushes amid which he was concealed.

"What's the matter, Blackie?" called one of the gang. "Did you think you heard somethin'?"

"I know I did!" exclaimed the other. "But I suppose it was only some animal prowling around."

"Bein' alone in this shack has got on your nerves, maybe," taunted one of the gang.

"Nerves, my eye!" exclaimed the other. "I don't own such things! But I've got a notion to take a look through those bushes, anyway," and he started in Bob's direction.

"Come on back, Blackie," urged another of the gang. "We can't be foolin' around here all day. Be yourself, can't you?"

The others chimed in to the same effect, and their leader reluctantly abandoned his search and returned to the cabin. Had he gone another twenty feet he would inevitably have discovered Bob, who had been on the point of springing to his feet and giving battle. It was a narrow escape, and the radio boys heaved sighs of relief as the door of the cabin closed on the formidable figure of the leader. They knew that these men were desperate criminals, heavily armed, who would not hesitate at murder to avoid capture.

Bob resumed his advance, an inch at a time, and at length reached the edge of the clearing. Before him lay a stretch of perhaps twenty feet of open ground, and should one of the desperados chance to open the door while he was crossing this space, discovery would be certain. However, this was a chance that Bob knew he must take, and without hesitation he sprang to his feet and ran swiftly but silently toward the cabin.

Fortunately he reached it unobserved, and crouched close to the wall beneath one of the little windows. There were numerous cracks in the side of the rude structure, and he had no difficulty in hearing what was going on inside.

The crooks were engaged in a heated debate, but soon the voice of their leader spoke out commandingly and the others fell silent.

"I tell you we haven't had a chance to get rid of that last load of silk we got near Castleton," he said, in an angry voice. "I couldn't get the price I wanted for it, and, besides, it will be just as easy to get rid of two loads as one, and no more risk. Now, I'm going to send out a radio message in code to the rest of the gang, and we'll pull off the job to-night, just as I've already told you."

There were no dissenting voices, and presently Bob heard the whirr of the sending set, followed by the voice of the leader.

"HDEA' HDEA'," he called again and again, switching over to the receiving set to get an answer. At length he evidently reached the station he was after, for he listened intently for a few minutes. Then the generator hummed again, and Bob heard the black-moustached man speaking again.

"Get this, and get it right," he commanded, and there followed a string of words that would have been mere gibberish to Bob had he not held the key to their meaning. He searched frantically in his pockets for a pencil, and scribbled the words down as the man spoke them. When he had finished, the leader of the gang shut down the generator, and turned to the others.

"That's fixed," he said. "There won't be much to do for the rest of the day but look over your guns and make sure they're in good working order. Since we got that last truck they've been putting guards on them, and we want to be prepared to shoot before they do."

There was a general pushing back of chairs, and Bob realized that at any moment the door might open. His mind worked quickly, and instead of going back to his friends the way he had come, he made a rush for the woods on the opposite side of the clearing. In this way the "blind," or windowless, end of the cabin was toward him, so that he would not be likely to be detected unless the robbers came out and walked around the house.

Lucky it was for Bob that he acted as he did, because he had barely started when the door was flung open and those inside came streaming out. For a few moments they stood in a group in front of the door, talking, and then scattered, some walking about, while others threw themselves on the ground and smoked.

But by this time Bob had reached the cover of the woods undiscovered, and set out to rejoin his friends. This necessitated a long detour, and it was a full hour later that he crept silently into their hiding place. So quietly did he come that Jimmy was on the point of uttering a startled exclamation, but checked himself just in time.



CHAPTER XXIII

PREPARING AN AMBUSH

"Say, you came as quietly as a shadow," whispered the plump youth. "How do you ever do it?"

"You don't expect me to blow a whistle under the circumstances, do you?" asked Bob.

"Never mind that, but tell us what you heard," said Joe impatiently. "What are they up to, Bob?"

"I can't tell you until I compare what I copied down with the code key," said Bob, as he fished in his pocket for the bit of paper on which he had noted down the robber's message. Having found this, he and Joe searched through the key and soon had the following message pieced together:

"Truck—silk—Barberton Road—to-night. Meet me and others—Hicks Bridge—eight o'clock. Truck due—ten o'clock."

Having deciphered the message, the boys gazed questioningly at one another.

"That doesn't give us much time to act," said Joe. "If we wait here it may be close to eight o'clock before the others come to relieve us, and then it will be too late to prevent the robbery."

"The answer is, that we won't wait here," said Bob decisively. "As long as we know their plans up until this evening, there's no need of watching this cabin any longer, anyway. We'd better start back right away, and tell Mr. Brandon what we've found out. He'll know the best thing to do then."

"That sounds all right to me," said Joe, and as Jimmy saw a chance of getting back to camp in time for dinner, he put in no objections.

"Now, for the love of butter, try to go quietly, Jimmy," warned Bob. "If those fellows hear a sound from this direction, they'll be right after us, because their suspicions are already aroused."

"I'll do the best I can," promised his rotund friend. "But I'm heavier than you fellows, and I can't slide around so easily."

"Well, go easy, anyway," said Bob. "Now, are we all ready?"

With infinite caution the boys wormed their way through the brushwood, Bob leading. By luck rather than good management Jimmy managed to be as quiet as his friends, and after almost an hour of this slow progress Bob judged that they were far enough away from the cabin to risk a faster pace. The shack was out of sight among the trees when he sprang to his feet, followed by the others, and in a short time they had reached the path leading to the main road. Here it was still necessary to be extremely careful, for they never knew at what moment some turn in the path would bring them face to face with some of the robber band. Fortunately nothing of the kind happened, and soon they reached the main road and started at high speed for camp.

"I wonder if we can't take some sort of a short cut," came from Joe as they raced along.

"That's the talk," puffed poor Jimmy, who had great difficulty in keeping up with his chums. "The shorter the better."

"We won't dare risk it," returned Bob. "Why we might get lost."

"Who's afraid of getting lost?"

"We are, for we might lose too much time and all our plans would go to smash. No, we've got to stick to the main road."

"How much further have we to go?"

"I don't know."

"We've got to chase along until we reach camp," put in Joe. "Hustle now, every minute may be precious."

"I can't hustle any more than I am hustling," panted poor Jimmy. "Do you want me to drop down of heart failure or something like that?"

"Maybe we'd better go along and leave Jimmy behind," suggested Joe, with a wink at Bob.

"Not much," cried the stout youth, and after that did his best to keep up with the others.

Not a great while later they came in sight of camp, much to their relief.

Mr. Brandon was astonished to see them back so soon, but as briefly as possible Bob told him of what they had learned and showed him the code message.

"You fellows have done a clever bit of detective work, and with reasonable luck it ought to be possible to bag the whole gang to-night," said Brandon. "I know where Hicks Bridge is. It's about five miles this side of Barberton, and an ideal place for an ambuscade. The road runs between high banks just before it gets to the bridge, and some of the gang posted on those banks could command the road from either direction. But I'll get in communication with the chief of police of Barberton, and we'll see if we can't catch the thieves in their own trap."

"I suppose the two men you were expecting haven't arrived yet, have they?" inquired Bob.

"No. And I'm afraid we won't be able to wait for them, either," said Brandon. "I could radio to the Barberton chief, but I'm afraid the message might be intercepted by the crooks, if one of them happened to be listening. I guess it will be better to go by way of my automobile, although I hate to lose the time that it will take."

"Isn't there a telephone line from the camp?" suggested Joe.

"No, unfortunately, one hasn't been installed yet," replied the inspector. "But we can do the trick with the car if we start right away. I suppose there's no need of asking if you fellows would like to come with me?"

"None whatever," answered Bob, grinning. "Just give us a chance to go in and snatch a little grub off the table, and we'll eat it on the way."

Frank Brandon nodded, and the three boys dashed into the mess hall and caught up anything in the way of eatables that came nearest to hand, Jimmy, of course, specializing on his favorite doughnuts. Then they hurried out, and found Mr. Brandon waiting for them, with the motor running. After a short search they found Herb fast asleep in his bunk, and roused him unceremoniously, hustling him out before he was fairly awake.

"What's it all about?" he questioned, rubbing his eyes. "Has the camp caught fire, or do you just want to borrow some money from me?"

"Never mind the funny business now, we'll tell you all about it while we're traveling," said Bob, as they reached the automobile. "In you go, Herb."

Before they could find seats Mr. Brandon had let in the clutch, and the car started with a jerk that landed them in a heap on the cushions. Regardless of the rough road, he kept picking up speed, and soon it was all they could do to stay in the car at all. Barberton was about thirty miles from the camp, and to reach it they had to cross Hicks Bridge. All looked calm and peaceful just then, and it was hard to believe that in a few short hours a desperate fight might be raging between the high banks that flanked the road. The bridge was some two hundred feet long, and passed over a deep cut between two hills. In spite of its present peaceful appearance it was easy to see that the place would be an ideal one to perpetrate such a crime as the robbers contemplated, and after they had passed over the bridge Mr. Brandon opened the throttle wider in his impatience to reach Barberton.

They slowed down to go through the streets of the town, and as they drew up in front of the police station, Brandon shut off his motor and leaped to the sidewalk.

"Come on in, boys, and we'll tell the chief about the little party scheduled for this evening," he said, and the boys followed him into the police station.

Fortunately the chief of police, Mr. Durand, was in, and he greeted Mr. Brandon with a heartiness that showed they were old friends.

After they had shaken hands, Brandon introduced the radio boys, and then proceeded to acquaint the chief with the details of the plot they had discovered. As Mr. Durand listened a dark frown gathered between his bushy eyebrows, and his fingers drummed angrily on the table before him. When Mr. Brandon had finished, the chief jumped to his feet and strode fiercely up and down the room.

"This won't be the first trouble we've had with those rascals!" he exclaimed wrathfully. "Members of the same gang have held up and robbed stores in this town, and we have two of them doing their bit in jail right now. And if we have any luck to-night we'll have the whole gang under lock and key before the morning. These young fellows must have been right on the job from start to finish, Frank."

"Yes, I guess they were," replied Brandon. "If we land this gang, we'll have them to thank for it. But now what are your plans for capturing the crooks?"

For answer the chief pressed a button, and a capable looking police lieutenant appeared.

"Get together ten of our best men," he directed, "and put them into two automobiles. When they are ready to start, report to me."

The lieutenant saluted, and left the room.

"According to the code message, the robbers won't be at Hicks Bridge much before eight o'clock, which is after dark these days," said the chief. "We'll get there a lot earlier than that, and I'll conceal my men in the woods. Then I'll leave orders here to stop the motor truck as it comes through, and replace its crew with a few picked men from my force. When the robbers try to hold up that truck, they'll have a big surprise in store for them."

"It might be a good plan," suggested Bob, "to mount a searchlight or two on the motor truck. At the right minute you could turn these on the crooks, and while it would confuse them, it would give your men in the woods a big advantage, as they'd be able to see the hold-up men plainly without being seen themselves."

"Young man, that's a first-rate suggestion!" exclaimed the chief, eyeing him appraisingly, "and you can believe we'll take advantage of it. I'll commandeer a couple from the Electric Light Company in readiness to mount on the truck when it comes along. I wish we could persuade you and your friends to join the Barberton police force."

"We'll be pretty nearly a part of it until those crooks are captured, if you'll let us," said Bob. "We all want to be in at the finish."

"It will be a dangerous business, and bullets may fly thick," the chief warned him. "You fellows have done more than your full duty already, and we can hardly call on you to do any more."

"Just the same, we'll come along if you don't mind," insisted Bob.

"Oh, I'll be very glad to have you, as far as I'm concerned," said Mr. Durand. "I suppose you'll want to be in on it, too, Frank?"

"You're dead right," Brandon assured him emphatically. "I've gone too far with this to want to drop out now."

At this point the lieutenant appeared and reported that the men were in the automobiles, ready to start. Picking up the telephone, the chief ordered his own car. He invited Mr. Brandon and the radio boys to ride with him.

"You can leave your car in the police garage, Frank," he said, and Brandon was not slow in availing himself of this offer. In a short time he returned, and the three automobiles started for the scene of the projected hold-up, the chief's car leading and the other two following close behind.



CHAPTER XXIV

LYING IN WAIT

"Doesn't look as though there's going to be much monotony in our young lives to-night," remarked Bob, as, tightly packed in the tonneau of the car, the boys rode on through the gathering darkness.

"For that matter there hasn't been much for several days past," chuckled Joe, who sat at his right. "A fellow would have to be a glutton to want more adventure than we've had since we came to Braxton Woods. What with Buck Looker and Black Donegan, we ought to be pretty well satisfied."

"I only hope Cassey will be in the gang that is rounded up to-night," observed Herb. "It would be too bad if only the rest were captured and that all-around scoundrel slipped through the meshes."

"I guess Cassey is the brains of the whole bunch," put in Jimmy. "Probably the others didn't know anything about radio until he put them on to it. He'll be there all right. And he's likely to put up a pretty stiff fight before he lets himself be captured, for he knows what it means to him to be sent back to prison. With a new sentence tacked on to the old one it'll probably mean that he'll be in for life."

In a little while they reached the scene of the proposed robbery. They were well in advance of the time set by the plotters, and the chief took his time in carefully disposing his forces, availing himself of Frank Brandon's advice in doing this.

The bridge stretched between two hills at the bottom of which was a small stream, about a hundred feet below. On each side, almost down to the bridge itself, extended trees and shrubbery that afforded excellent hiding places. The only trouble was that both the outlaws and the officers who were trying to apprehend them were likely to seek the same shelter and might in this way stumble across each other before the trap was ready to be sprung.

This, however, was a contingency that had to be faced, and preparations were made accordingly. The men were placed at strategic points on both sides of the bridge. Whether the attempt at hold-up would be made at the entrance to the bridge or on the further side was a matter of speculation. The chief went on the theory, however, that it would probably take place at the entrance, and there he placed the majority of the men under him.

The radio boys hinted that there was where they would like to be also, but in this the chief was adamant.

"I've stretched a point in letting you young fire-eaters come along at all," he said. "As it is, I may have a hard time explaining to your parents. And I hate to think what my position would be if anything happened to you. So I am going to put you where I think you'll be comparatively out of danger. You're just to be lookers on at this shindig. And if the bullets begin to fly, you just lie flat on the ground behind the trees until they stop. It may not be so glorious, but it's likely to be a mighty sight more healthy."

So, much against their will, the boys were compelled to obey orders and take the place assigned to them which was on the further side of the bridge.

"Putting us up in the gallery when we ought to have seats in the orchestra," grumbled Joe, as the boys ensconced themselves in a thicket behind a big clump of trees.

"Cheer up, you old gloom hound," chaffed Bob. "We may get in on this yet. At any rate, if we are in the gallery, we have a good view of the stage. Or at least we shall have, when the searchlight gets busy."

The darkness deepened until the night became as black as Egypt. There was no moon, and even the stars were obscured by clouds that heavily veiled the sky. The night was chill, and the boys buttoned their coats tightly about them as they sat waiting for developments.

They had perhaps an hour to wait, but it was not known but that some of the robbers would be on the ground at an earlier time than had been set, and every sense was on the alert as all strained their ears for the slightest sound and peered into the darkness on the chance that they might catch glimpses of shadowy forms. After the first few moments they had not ventured to talk for fear that they might be overheard. But this did not debar them from thinking, and they thrilled with excitement as they pictured each to himself the struggle that seemed about to take place on the road.

The minutes dragged along interminably, and in the intense silence the lads could almost hear the beating of their hearts. Then at a little distance a twig cracked and sent the blood racing madly through their veins.

Soon footsteps were heard approaching, and the lads crouched still lower in their hiding place. The sounds came nearer, and they could detect the tread of two men. They were approaching without any excessive degree of caution, as they had no reason to believe that their plans had been discovered. As they drew closer, the boys could hear them conversing in low tones.

"I tell you it's all right," said a rough voice, which they recognized as that of Black Donegan. "All the fellows are tipped off and know just what they've got to do. Jake and Toppy will do the holding up, and then the rest of us will jump in if the driver cuts up rough. If he does, there'll be one more dead driver."

The boys waited for the answer that seemed to be long in coming. What they heard finally was a whistle that made them jump. They had heard that whistle before!

"Cassey!" whispered Bob to Joe. "Cassey, as sure as you're born!"

The next instant his belief became a thrilling certainty.

"It-t-t-t isn't the d-d-driver." The voice came out, with an explosive quality. "It's the g-g-guards he may have w-w-with him. The p-p-police are getting pretty l-l-leary about all the robberies t-t-t-that have been taking place around here lately, and they've g-g-g-," again came the whistle, "g-got to do something or lose their jobs. At any rate t-t-this is the last thing we're g-g-going to pull off around here——"

"I guess he's right about that," Joe whispered to Bob.

"——and j-j-just as soon as we're through with this, w-w-we'd better p-pull up stakes and try somewhere else."

The voice was now so close at hand that if the boys had reached out of the thicket they would almost have touched the speaker. At this thought Jimmy and Herb, especially, felt a thrill of excitement.



CHAPTER XXV

AN EXCITING STRUGGLE

"I think myself that we've hung round this neck o' the woods about long enough," agreed Donegan. "And I ain't any too well pleased to have that radio inspector snooping around the woods. He ain't up to any good if you ask me. But brace up, Cassey, for this last haul. You ain't generally chicken-hearted."

"You'll f-f-find that I have my n-n-nerve with me when the pinch comes," replied Cassey. "I'd rather be k-k-killed by a bullet than g-g-g-go back to prison."

The voices receded as the men went on, and soon the sound of their footsteps ceased. It was evident they were searching for the most advantageous place for the crime that they contemplated.

"I told you that I had a hunch that that villain would be here," whispered Jimmy, when they felt that it would be safe to speak.

"Good thing, too," said Bob grimly. "Cassey'll get to-night what's coming to him."

Half an hour passed—an hour—an hour and a half. Then far in the distance the boys heard the hum of a motor engine and the rumble of a heavy truck.

"There it comes!" ejaculated Joe, throwing caution to the winds in his excitement.

The rumbling grew louder, and soon the boys knew that it must be close to the bridge. Then they saw the lamps of an auto truck sending out their beams of light a hundred feet in advance, and could just discern above them the massive body of the truck.

It came on at a moderate rate of speed, slowing up somewhat as it struck the bridge.

Suddenly shots rang out and the boys could see two dark figures standing on the bridge and waving their hands at the driver, as they bellowed out orders to stop. At the same time, as though the shots had been a signal, three other figures came rushing from other directions.

It was impossible for the boys to keep still, and they too sprang to their feet and started for the scene of the hold-up, running at the top of their speed.

Just as they left their covert there was a blinding flash that made the whole bridge as bright as day. A searchlight had been turned on from the top of the truck full in the faces of the robbers. They staggered as though they had been struck, and at the same instant there came a volley of shots and the police were upon the hold-up men.

There was a wild melee of struggling men, as they swayed back and forth in a desperate struggle. The robbers had been taken completely by surprise and were outnumbered two to one. There were shouts and the crack of revolvers, and the thud of pistol butts.

But the battle, though fierce, was of short duration. In a few minutes the robbers had been subdued. One lay stunned on the bridge and another lay by him wounded. Two more were held in the grasp of officers.

One, however, tore himself away from the officer who had grappled with him, and came rushing in the direction of the radio boys. In the glare from the searchlight they recognized Cassey.

He saw them, too, and fired his revolver at them. The shot went wild. He pressed the trigger again but with no result. Then, realizing that his weapon was empty, he hurled it at Bob, who was nearest to him.

Bob dodged, and the next instant grabbed at Cassey's legs. The expertness that had made him the star of his football team stood him in good stead. His arms closed round Cassey in a flying tackle, and they came heavily to the bridge together.

Cassey struggled desperately to rise, but Bob held him in an unbreakable grip, and a second later his comrades had come to his assistance and the scoundrel was overpowered and delivered over to the police, who came rushing up.

The robbers were securely bound and bundled into the auto truck that they had planned to rob. Then in high spirits the party drove back to Barberton. The chief was jubilant, and the praises he heaped upon the radio boys made their ears burn. They stayed long enough at his office to see the prisoners safely jailed and then, though the hour was late, rode back to their quarters in the woods with Mr. Brandon.

They slept long and late after their exciting experience, and it was almost noon the next day when they awoke. Bob was somewhat surprised to find a letter waiting for him. It bore no stamp, and had evidently been brought there by one of the lumbermen.

He opened it curiously and glanced at the signature. Then he gave a shout that brought his comrades quickly to his side.

"What do you think of this, fellows?" he cried. "Buck Looker's writing to me."

There was a chorus of wondering exclamations.

The last paragraph caught Bob's eye and he read it aloud:

"As for Bob Layton and those other chumps, all we've got to do is to stand pat. No one saw us put the stones in the snowballs, and if we just deny it, they can't pin anything on us. They'll have to pay for the window, and that'll even up things for what they did to us at Mountain Pass.

"Yours,

"Buck."

Bob was utterly dumbfounded. Then he glanced at the heading of the letter and let out a whoop.

"Oh, this is too rich!" he cried, almost choking with laughter. "This letter is directed to Carl Lutz. You know he went home two or three days ago. Buck has written two letters, one to Lutz and the other to me—probably a roast—and he's put them in the wrong envelopes. Oh, how he's given himself away!"

Bob's comrades were fairly convulsed, and Jimmy grew so purple in the face that they had to slap him vigorously on the back. They had scarcely got him into a calmer frame, before he threatened to go off again, for he saw Buck Looker strolling along the road.

"Probably's come along to see how you were bearing up under the roast," chuckled Joe.

Bob ran over toward Buck, followed by his comrades. Buck looked alarmed and put himself in a posture of defense.

"Oh, we're not going to hurt you," said Bob. "I only wanted to tell you that I got your letter."

"I hope it blistered your hide," growled Buck.

"It made me nearly laugh myself to death," replied Bob. "But let me advise you, Buck, to make sure the next time that you get the right letter in the right envelope."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Buck, in apprehension.

"Only that I got the letter you meant for Carl Lutz," replied Bob. "Maybe you've forgotten what you said, so I'll read the last paragraph," and, dwelling on every word, he read it over deliberately.

Before he had quite finished, Buck made a desperate grab at the letter, but Bob was too quick for him.

"No, you don't!" he exclaimed, as he folded it and put it carefully into his pocket. "That letter's going to cost you about two hundred dollars, for that's what it will cost to pony up for the broken window. We've got you dead to rights, and you'd better pay up and pay up quick. So long, Buck. And do be more careful next time to get the right letter in the right envelope."

With all his bluster knocked out of him, Buck slunk away. The boys were not surprised to learn in the next letter from home that the insurance company had been paid.

"Some excitement we have had here," remarked Bob. "Wonder if we'll ever have such strenuous times again."

"Sure," declared Joe promptly, and he was right, as we shall see in the next volume of this series, to be called, "The Radio Boys with the Forest Rangers." In that volume we shall see how they fought a fire that came close to ending tragically.

After a good dinner, the boys lay sprawled out on the grass basking in the spring sunshine and utterly at peace with themselves and the world.

"Well, it's been hard work, but we've had pretty good luck at trailing a voice," observed Bob.

"Yes," agreed Joe with a grin, "and s-s-s-such a v-v-v-voice!"

And Jimmy whistled.

THE END



* * * * * *



THE RADIO BOYS SERIES (Trademark Registered)

By ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of the "Railroad Series," Etc.

Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers For Each Story. Every Volume Complete in Itself.

A new series for boys giving full details of radio work, both in sending and receiving—telling how small and large amateur sets can be made and operated, and how some boys got a lot of fun and adventure out of what they did. Each volume from first to last is so thoroughly fascinating, so strictly up-to-date and accurate, we feel sure all lads will peruse them with great delight.

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THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION; Or, Making Good in the Wireless Room.

THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS; Or, The Midnight Call for Assistance.

THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE; Or, Solving a Wireless Mystery.

THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FOREST RANGERS; Or, The Great Fire on Spruce Mountain.

THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE ICEBERG PATROL; Or, Making Safe the Ocean Lanes.

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

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THE OUTDOOR CHUMS Or The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club.

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THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH Or The All Around Rivals of the School

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THE FAMOUS ROVER BOYS SERIES BY ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer)

OVER THREE MILLION COPIES SOLD OF THIS SERIES Uniform Style of Binding. Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself.

THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR THE ROVER BOYS IN NEW YORK THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA THE ROVER BOYS IN BUSINESS THE ROVER BOYS ON A TOUR THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL THE ROVER BOYS ON SNOWSHOE ISLAND THE ROVER BOYS UNDER CANVAS THE ROVER BOYS ON A HUNT THE ROVER BOYS IN THE LAND OF LUCK THE ROVER BOYS AT BIG HORN RANCH THE ROVER BOYS AT BIG BEAR LAKE THE ROVER BOYS SHIPWRECKED

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

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THE PUTNAM HALL STORIES

Companion Stories to the Famous Rover Boys Series

By ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer)

UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS.

Being the adventures of lively young fellows at a Military Academy. Open air sports have always been popular with boys and these stories that mingle adventure with fact will appeal to every manly boy.

THE MYSTERY OF PUTNAM HALL Or The School Chums' Strange Discovery

The particulars of the mystery and the solution of it are very interesting reading.

CAMPING OUT DAYS AT PUTNAM HALL Or The Secret of the Old Mill

A story full of vim and vigor, telling what the cadets did during the summer encampment, including a visit to a mysterious old mill, said to be haunted. The book has a wealth of fun in it.

THE REBELLION AT PUTNAM HALL Or The Rival Runaways

The boys had good reasons for running away during Captain Putnam's absence. They had plenty of fun and several queer adventures.

THE CHAMPIONS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Bound to Win Out

In this volume the Cadets of Putnam Hall show what they can do in various keen rivalries on the athletic field and elsewhere. There is one victory which leads to a most unlooked-for discovery.

THE CADETS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Good Times in School and Out

The cadets are lively, flesh-and-blood fellows, bound to make friends from the start. There are some keen rivalries, in school and out, and something is told of a remarkable midnight feast and a hazing with an unexpected ending.

THE RIVALS OF PUTNAM HALL Or Fun and Sport Afloat and Ashore

It is a lively, rattling, breezy story of school life in this country, written by one who knows all about its pleasures and its perplexities, its glorious excitements, and its chilling disappointments.

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

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THE RAILROAD SERIES By ALLEN CHAPMAN

Author of the Radio Boys, Etc.

Illustrated. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Every Volume Complete in Itself.

In this line of books there is revealed the whole workings of a great American railroad system. There are adventures in abundance—railroad wrecks, dashes through forest fires, the pursuit of a "wildcat" locomotive, the disappearance of a pay car with a large sum of money on board—but there is much more than this—the intense rivalry among railroads and railroad men, the working out of running schedules, the getting through "on time" in spite of all obstacles, and the manipulation of railroad securities by evil men who wish to rule or ruin.

RALPH OF THE ROUND HOUSE; Or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man.

RALPH IN THE SWITCH TOWER; Or, Clearing the Track.

RALPH ON THE ENGINE; Or, The Young Fireman of the Limited Mail.

RALPH ON THE OVERLAND EXPRESS; Or, The Trials and Triumphs of a Young Engineer.

RALPH, THE TRAIN DISPATCHER; Or, The Mystery of the Pay Car.

RALPH ON THE ARMY TRAIN; Or, The Young Railroader's Most Daring Exploit.

RALPH ON THE MIDNIGHT FLYER; Or, The Wreck at Shadow Valley.

RALPH AND THE MISSING MAIL POUCH; Or, The Stolen Government Bonds.

GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK

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