Part 25 (1/2)
The broker consulted a notebook which he took from his pocket.
”Call HRSA,” he returned. ”That is our Stock Exchange station,” he explained. ”They ought to be on the job while the Exchange is open.
They will relay a message to my brokers.”
Joe was standing beside Bob and saw that his chum's hand trembled somewhat as he took hold of the ticker.
”Don't get rattled, Bob,” he whispered. ”Take your time and don't let him scare you. Remember, it's you that's doing the favor.”
Bob grinned, and then began sending out the call. Across the ether traveled the letters HRSA and the call was presently caught up in New York and then another message was relayed to the office of a well-known brokerage firm.
”Hey, Bill,” called a well-dressed young man seated at a desk in the far end of the office. ”Here's WBZA calling us. These are the letters of the station at Mountain Pa.s.s----”
”Where the Honorable Mr. Gilbert Salper is taking his rest cure,”
finished another man, flinging away his cigarette and coming to stand beside his partner. ”Do you suppose it's the old boy himself calling?”
”We'll soon find out,” returned the other, and without delay sent in a message to the New York sending station. In a few seconds they were being radioed into the ether.
Bob's face beamed as he transcribed the dots and dashes into words.
The message read thus:
”WBZA heard from. HRSA awaiting message.”
Mr. Salper, who had been striding up and down, hurried to Bob's side in answer to the lad's hail. The other boys were peering eagerly over Bob's shoulder.
”I've reached HRSA and through them H. & D.,” explained the young operator proudly. ”H. & D. are waiting for your message.”
”Fine! Fine!” cried Mr. Salper, and his face showed great enthusiasm.
”Those are my brokers, Hanson and Debbs. Got 'em right off the reel, didn't you, boy? Great work! Can you get my message through at once?”
”I don't know of anything to stop me,” answered Bob. It seemed too good to be true that he had picked up the right station so quickly.
”Send this, then,” Mr. Salper directed. And in a firm hand he wrote down the following message:
”Mohun is a crook and plots to ruin me. Find out his scheme and check him.
Gilbert Salper.”
CHAPTER XXIII
THE MIDNIGHT CALL
Skillfully Bob tapped out the message and in an inconceivably small s.p.a.ce of time it had been received by the station HRSA and relayed to H. & D. The boys would have been interested if they could have known the sensation caused by the few words.
”Oh, boy!” cried Hanson, of the firm of Hanson and Debbs. ”I've suspected this slick fellow Mohun for a long time. Now with Salper's authority we can go in and clean him out.”
”Salper wouldn't make an accusation of that sort,” said Debbs thoughtfully, ”if there wasn't something in it. He's had some sort of inside tip all right.”