Part 3 (1/2)

CHAPTER VI

ANOTHER FELLOW

It was in and over the work of the boys' shop that Bill and Gus first met the Italian student. Among the upper cla.s.smen they had noticed a small, olive-skinned, black-eyed chap, with a rather solemn face, who appeared to be very reticent. It was said that he was a close and a bright student who, though not lacking for money, took little interest in sports, belonging only to the ”bruisers,” as the boxing cla.s.s was called. One afternoon, with Gandy, who was getting a radio set made, the stranger appeared and stood in the doorway, gazing at the busy workers.

At first neither of the radio experts saw him. Then he advanced.

”I have the desire very much to make for myself complete a radio getter--ah--what you call? Yes, a receiver.” He addressed Gus, who was laying out the hook-up for a crystal set.

”There's nothing very hard about it,” Gus replied, looking up with his ready smile and scrutinizing the Italian boy.

”You pay the right here, the privilege; is that not so?”

”Yes, we rent the room,” said Gus.

”Ah, so; but I mean--” The newcomer turned partly toward Bill who drew near at the moment and had overheard the question.

”You mean we charge those who work here? Yes, for the use of our tools and machines, but not for any hints and advice we can give. The school shop is at your mercy, too, without charge, as you know.” Bill also sized up his questioner with a certain curiosity and was pleasantly impressed.

”I do not like the school shop. There are so very many con--con--what you call it? Yes, conflicting. I should like--prefer--choose to come here, if I may do so.”

”Come along. You keep account of your own time here, and you can pay us when you like. You can get your own materials, or we can get them for you at the prices we pay. We bought up some old pieces of furniture cheap to cut up for bases and cabinets--enough walnut to make a hundred.

No charge for it. Help yourself.”

”You are, I wish to say it, veree liber--kind--generous. It is too little that you pay--charge, I mean it. I will ask for your materials and I will commence--begin--start, eh? on to-morrow. Will that be satisfy?”

”Any old time. If we are not here, walk in and go to it. Check your hours up on this pad, see? What is your name?”

”Anthony Sabaste it is. I am called Tony by most. My country it is Italy, but American I now am. My father is of the city--living there.

Here, now, I will pay you five dollars on acc----”

”No, you won't,” said Bill. ”We'd rather have you pay after a while and you can see that the work goes all right. Here, I'll show you the ropes.”

”Ropes? But I care not to make--build a s.h.i.+p. It is a radio----”

”Oh, sure, I get you; but that's only slang. You have been here long enough, I should guess from your talk, to get on to our American guff.

Well, we're glad to know you, Mr.----”

”Sabaste, but I best like--I prefer calling me Tony. It means in your language, I get on to it, as fine, grand, fat--no--but swell out--somebody much, eh?”

”It does, sure! I'll introduce my partner, Augustus Grier; Gus for short, or he'll get mad. They call me Bill Brown, generally forgetting the Brown, even here at school, where 'most everyone gets his last name.

First names are more friendly.”

”I like it, too. In my native it is more mostly Signor, even to young--what you call it? Kids, as us, eh?” Tony smiled genially, his face lighting up most agreeably. ”Some they call me 'Wop,' or 'Sphagetti'.”

The boys learned that the intelligent young foreigner was in the graduating cla.s.s which had escaped a lot of practical radio work; that he kept much to himself, either because of a real or fancied notion that social lines might be drawn against him, or because he was naturally unsocial. But after he began the making of a radio set and came in daily contact with Bill and Gus, the young Italian seemed to grow a little out of himself, becoming less reticent and secluded. The good fellows.h.i.+p of two lads a little younger than he, both giving him friends.h.i.+p and confidence, laughing at his errors of speech in perfect good nature and without ridicule, and at their own foibles as well, compelled the Italian boy to like the country of his adoption much better than he had before. This he expressed to Gus: