The Radio Boys in the Thousand Islands   By: J. W. Duffield

or, The Yankee Canadian Wireless Trail

by

J. W. DUFFIELD

Author of

RADIO BOYS IN THE SECRET SERVICE; or, Cast Away on an Iceberg. RADIO BOYS IN THE FLYING SERVICE; or, Held For Ransom by Mexican Bandits. RADIO BOYS IN THE ROCKIES; or, The Mystery of the Lost Valley.

1922

CONTENTS

Chapter

I Vacation Plans

II Tragedy or Joke

III Talking it over

IV The Catwhisker

V A Baffling Situation

VI A Mystery and Cub's "Goat"

VII Returning Cub's "Goat"

VIII Mathematics or Geography?

IX The Radio Diagram

X The Island Surrounded Island

XI The Deserted Camp

XII Hal's Discovery

XIII "Robinson Crusoe's" Diary

XIV More Light and More Mystery

XV The Hook up on Shore

XVI Running down a Radio Fake

XVII Bud's Discovery

XVIII Unwelcome Visitors

XIX "S.O.S." from Friday Island

XX Four Prisoners

XXI The Hostage

XXII The "Crusoe Mystery" Deepens

XXIII "Sweating" the Prisoner

XXIV "Something Happens"

XXV Bud Shoots

XXVI The Slingshot Victim

XXVII Chased out

XXVIII A Radio Eavesdropper

XXIX The End of the "Mystery"

XXX The Result of a Radio Hazing

CHAPTER I

Vacation Plans

"Now, fellows, what are we goin' to do this vacation?" demanded Cub Perry as he leaned back in his upholstered reed rocker and hoisted his size 8 shoes onto the foot of his bedstead. "School's all over, we've all passed our exams, and now we've got a long vacation before us with nothing to do. It's up to yo uns to map out a program."

"Why can't you help map it out?" asked Bud Taylor with something of a challenge in his voice. "You always have the last word?"

"Cub's the dictator of our outfit, and we do the work, that's why," declared Hal Stone. "We always have to listen to him, you know that, Bud. So what's the use o' kickin'?"

"Oh, I'm not kickin'," Bud replied. "It's no use. Cub 'u'd drown us out with his voice if we hollered. You know you made 'im admit once that noise was the only thing that 'u'd convince him."

"You c'n change that now and call it static instead of noise since we've all become radio experts," smirked Cub with characteristic superiority.

"Ha, ha," laughed Bud.

"Tee hee," tittered Hal.

By the way, it was from this peculiar manner of laugh, that Hal got his nickname, Tee hee. Cub's given name was Robert, shortened sometimes to Bob and Bud's was Roy. Cub and Bud were always known by their nicknames, but Hal was addressed as Tee hee only on fitting or intermittent occasions.

The three boys were seated in Cub's room at the Perry home, one of the largest and most interesting samples of domestic architecture in the City of Oswego, on the shore of Lake Ontario. Cub was a rich man's son, but he was constitutionally, almost grotesquely, democratic. There was nothing that would make him angrier, to all appearance at least, than open reference in conversation to the wealth of his father. For such offense he was ever ready to "take off the head" of the offender. However, once in a while one of the bolder of his friends would beard the lion in his den more or less successfully. But it was necessary for such venturesome person to be ever in command of ready wit in order to emerge with a whole skin, figuratively speaking, and Bud and Tee hee were the real leaders of this victorious few. That was the reason why they were chums of Cub.