“Anyway it’s an idea,” said Sally. Hopping out of bed, she gathered in her precious radio and, with a bed cover for a tent, studied the “put-puts” for another hour.

Barbara’s Head Came Out From Beneath the Covers

The close of that hour found her thoroughly disgusted. On a paper she had made a few marks. When she had compared these to the code marks for letters and figures, they added up to exactly nothing.

“Terrible,” she thought. “I know what I’ll do. I’ll take the radio over to the lab and show it to Danny. I’m sure he can be trusted. We’ll work things out together.”

“What’s that black box?” Danny asked, when she arrived next evening.

“That’s my secret radio. I couldn’t do a thing last night. I want you to help me.”

“It’s nice of you to trust me.” He beamed. “People have said I was simple but could be trusted. Only time will tell.”

“Time doesn’t need to tell me. I know it.”

“Do you? Well, then that’s fine. How do you open this black box?”

She snapped it open. “Oh! We need an aerial!”

“There’s one on this building, much better than the one you’ve been using. There’s a connection over in the corner.”

In a few minutes the radio was ready to operate. Sally turned the switches. Nothing came out, not a sound.

“What’s up?” Danny asked.

“Those gremlins, subs, or whatever they are, are not always there.”

“Turn the dial. Get something else. That will tell us whether our connections are okay.”

“There’s nothing else on the air for us.”

“That’s a queer radio.”

“Yes, it is. But if we wait five minutes Station NANCY will be on the air.”

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