The Radio Boys' First Wireless Part 8

"No, I haven't. But if I had you can bet I'd hold on to it," said Jimmy. "How do you expect me to work if I don't have anything to keep my strength up?"

"Who said we expected you to work?" demanded Joe. "I'm sure we wouldn't be so foolish, would we, fellows?"

"Oh, I don't know," retorted Jimmy. "You're foolish enough for anything else, so why not that?"

"Well, if you say so, I suppose that settles it," said Joe. "But, anyway, as long as Jimmy was so careless as not to bring more candy along, I suppose we'd better get to work."

"Shall we get the tuning coil started?" suggested Bob. "It will take us quite some time to do that, but we might get the core wound to-night, anyway."

As there was no objection to this, they all went down to the cellar, where Bob had rigged up a work bench and had a pretty complete stock of tools. Jimmy's father had made them a wooden form on which to wind the wire. This core was nothing but a plain cylinder of wood, about three inches in diameter and ten inches long. For Christmas, the year before, Mr. Layton had given Bob a small but accurately made bench lathe, operated by a foot pedal, and Bob mounted the roller between the lathe centers, holding one end in the chuck jaws. Then he produced a narrow roll of stout wrapping paper, such as is used for winding around automobile tires, and a bottle of sh.e.l.lac, together with a small, fine-haired brush.

"First thing," he said, "we want to wind a few layers of sh.e.l.lacked paper on this core. Suppose I turn the core, you let the paper unwind onto it, Joe, and you can sh.e.l.lac the paper as it unrolls, Herb."

"That leaves me with nothing to do but boss the job," said Jimmy, "and I don't see why I can't do that as well lying down as standing up, so here goes," and he stretched out luxuriously on an old sofa.

"This must have been put here just for me, I guess," he continued, with a sigh of perfect contentment. "Get busy, you laborers, and flash a little speed."

"We haven't got time to come and throw you off that sofa just now,"

said Bob. "But as soon as we get through with this job you'll vacate pretty quick. Are you fellows ready to start now?"

"I've been ready for the last half hour," said Joe. "Start that jigger of yours going, and let's see what happens."

Bob put a dab of sh.e.l.lac on one end of the paper to get it started, stuck the end on the wooden core, and then started winding the paper onto it at a slow speed. Joe moved the roll of paper back and forth to wind it smoothly and evenly, while Herb sh.e.l.lacked for all he was worth, giving himself almost as liberal a dose of the sticky gum as he gave the paper. It was not long before the core was neatly wrapped, and Bob stopped his lathe.

"That looks fine," he said, eyeing the job critically. "Now, while that sh.e.l.lac is drying out a bit, let's see if we can't coax Doughnuts to get up off that couch."

All three boys made a dive for their luckless companion, but he was up and off before they could reach him, with a nimbleness that would not have disgraced a jack rabbit.

"No, you don't!" he exclaimed. "I beat you to it. I suppose it makes you feel jealous to see me resting once in a while, instead of slaving my head off as usual. If you Indians had your way I'd be worn to a shadow in no time."

"It's easy to see we don't have our way much, then," laughed Herb.

"You've got a long way to go before you get in the shadow cla.s.s, Jim."

"It can't be too far to suit me," responded that youth. "But what I want to know is, is that tuning coil wound yet? Seems to me you take a lot of time to do a simple thing like that."

"You'd better sing small, or first thing you know you'll find yourself in the coal bin," threatened Joe. "How about throwing him in just for luck, fellows?"

"You've got a funny idea of what luck is," said Jimmy. "I never did care much for coal bins. Thank you just the same."

"You're welcome," retorted Joe. Then to Bob: "Do you think we can wind the wire on now, Bob?"

"Why, I guess so," said Bob, testing the sh.e.l.lac with his finger.

"It's getting pretty tacky now; so if we wind the wire on right away the sh.e.l.lac will help to hold it in place when it dries."

"Well, start up the old coffee mill, then," said Herb. "If we can get the wire on as slick as we did the paper, it won't be half bad."

But the wire was a more difficult thing to work, as they soon found.

It required the greatest care to get the wire to lie smooth and close without any s.p.a.ce between coils. More than once they had to unwind several coils and rewind them before they finally got the whole core wound in a satisfactory manner. But at last it was finished, all coils wound smooth and close, and the boys gazed at it with pardonable pride.

"That doesn't look as bad as it might, does it?" said Bob.

"I should say not!" exclaimed Joe. "The last time I was in New York I saw a coil like that in an electrical store window. I didn't know then what it was for, but as far as I can remember, it didn't look much better than this one."

"We probably couldn't have made as good a job of it if Bob hadn't had that lathe," said Herb.

"Well, I don't know," said Bob. "It would have taken us longer, but I think we could have done it about as well in the end. Now that we've got the core wound, we'll have to mount it with a couple of sliding contacts, but I guess we'd better not try to do anything more to-night. It's getting pretty late. And, besides, mother said she'd leave an apple pie and some milk in the ice box, and I'm beginning to feel as though that would taste pretty good."

CHAPTER X

A STEALTHY RASCAL

"Did you really say pie, Bob?" asked Jimmy in a rapturous voice.

"And apple pie at that? Or was it all only a beautiful dream?"

"There's only one way to find out, and that's to go and see," said Bob. "Last man up gets the smallest piece," and he made a dash for the stairs, closely followed by the others. Poor Jimmy, in spite of a surprising burst of speed on his part, was the last one up, and arrived out of breath, but ready to argue against Bob's dictum.

"Don't you know that if there's a small piece it's up to the host to take it?" he asked Bob, who by that time had secured the pie and was cutting it. "If you were really polite you wouldn't eat any of that pie at all. You'd give all your time to seeing that we had plenty."

"Yes, but I'm not that polite," said Bob. "I think I deserve credit for not waiting till you had all gone home and then eating the whole thing myself. That's probably what you'd do, Doughnuts, if you were in my place."

"I wouldn't either," disclaimed Jimmy indignantly.

"Of course he wouldn't eat it after we'd gone," grinned Herb.

"And if you coax me real hard, I'll tell you why."

"All right, I'll bite," said Joe. "Why wouldn't Doughnuts eat the pie after we'd gone home?"

"Because he would have eaten it all before we even got here," replied Herb, with a shout of laughter. "Ask me a harder one next time."

"I suppose you think that's real smart, don't you?" remarked Jimmy sarcastically. "But I don't care what you say, as long as there is pie like this in the world," and he bit off a huge mouthful with an expression of perfect ecstasy on his round countenance.

"It is pretty easy to take," admitted Herb, as he proceeded to dispose of his share in a workmanlike manner. "This is regular angel's food, Bob."

"Yes, it was made especially for me," said Bob, trying to look like an angel, but falling considerably short of the mark. It is hard for any one to look very angelic with a big piece of apple pie in one hand and a gla.s.s of milk in the other.

"Suppose you cut out the angel business and hand me over another piece of that pie," suggested Jimmy. "If you're an angel, Bob, I hope to die a horrible death from slow starvation, and I can't say any more than that, can I?"

"You'd better speak nicely to me, or you won't get another piece,"

threatened Bob, holding a wedge of pie temptingly in Jimmy's direction. "Am I an angel, Doughnuts, or not? Yes--pie. No--no pie."

"Of course you are, Bob, and you know I always loved you." Bob pa.s.sed him the pie, and Jimmy clutched it securely.

"Thanks, you big hobo," he grinned.

"There's grat.i.tude for you," said Bob, appealing to the others. "He knows the pie is all gone now, so he thinks he can insult me and get away with it."