The Radio Girls on the program

The chords of “Lily of Mine” seemed to ring hollowly in Jessie’s ears as she stood before the sending horn. She flashed a frightened look across the room to where her chum, Amy Drew, sat beside Bertha Blair and Nell Stanley and little Henrietta. Little Henrietta was fussing with her hair and smoothing down the front of her new dress, and her face wore such a funny look that Jessie suddenly wanted to laugh.

This emotion shocked Jessie into keener comprehension of where she was and what she had to do. The pianist came to the point where Jessie should sing, and, scarcely realizing what she did, the Roselawn girl opened her lips and the first notes of the song came forth—clearly and in perfect time.

Afterward Madame Elva shook Jessie’s hand warmly and smiled most charmingly in congratulation.

“You have a sweet voice, Miss Norwood,” she said. “You will give it good care, yes? And when you are older, come to see me. Your voice has the promise of great things.”

Jessie did not just then tell anybody of the prima donna’s praise, but she was not likely to forget it! A little later Amy recited her humorous bit, and did it well. She was naturally a mimic. Bertha Blair sang with considerable success. Jessie saw that Mr. Blair watched his namesake with approval.

In the second half of the concert, after the band played the opening number, Dr. Stanley gave a brief talk regarding the needs of the new hospital, inviting contributions of whatsoever amount to the foundation fund. The clergyman had already preached sermons into the sending horn, so he did very well with this lecture.

Following this talk the three Roselawn girls sang their trio; and it was well done. Afterward they were told by friends at home that the tones were quite as clear and the song was as well rendered as any number on the program.

“One thing sure,” said Amy, with satisfaction. “We did better than Miss Allister’s chorus would have done. I wonder how Belle and Sally feel? They managed to spoil the chorus, and then their rival entertainment was a frost, and now this.”

Mr. Blair was the criterion of judgment, however; and he expressed himself as perfectly satisfied with the whole program. He called it a radio success.

There was a social time enjoyed downstairs in the big reception room of the company’s offices after the program was finished. But while the older folks were engaged there Bertha Blair told her friends from Roselawn of the wonderful news which had so excited her.

“So,” she concluded, “he went back to where we used to live when I was a little girl—and where Hen’s folks lived, too—and he found out that my father was his younger brother. And he is an awfully nice man, and his wife is nice, too. She’s my aunt. And she wants me to come and live with them and not work out any more. And I am going to take Hen with me.”

“Is she my aunt?” demanded Henrietta, composedly.

“We-ell, sort of,” said Bertha.

“I can come and see Miss Jessie and Miss Amy once in a while, can’t I?”

“Of course you can.”

“And the Foleys?” demanded the freckle-faced girl.

“And the Foleys.”

“I guess I’ll have to take Mrs. Foley’s purple parasol back,” said the child. “You ain’t seen that, Bertha. It’s awful stylish.”

Here Amy Drew broke in:

“I think it is wonderful, Bertha,” she said. “And Mr. Blair is an awfully nice man.”

“I somehow felt that you were related to him, from the beginning,” Jessie remarked.

“He lost track of my father. They had a sort of quarrel when my father and mother married. And I guess Uncle Steve has always been sorry about it. He says he is going to make it up to me, whatever that means.”

“I think everything has turned out wonderfully,” said Nell Stanley, as the party broke up. “I don’t suppose we shall ever have anything more important to do with radio telephony, or radio any-phone, such as we have had here at Stratfordtown.”

Her friends, Jessie and Amy, could not disagree with her statement, for they could not see into the future any more than could the clergyman’s daughter. But without equaling the clairvoyant qualities supposed to be possessed by “Spotted Snake, the Witch,” we may announce right here that the Roselawn girls and their friends will be met again, in the next volume, entitled “The Radio Girls on Station Island; Or, The Wireless From the Steam Yacht,” in which their radio experiences will be greatly extended.

Darry and Burd had hunted up Mark Stratford and brought him around to the car before the girls were ready to go home. As Burd declared, they had “worked Mark all up” over something good that was going to happen to him.

“I’m due to get something good,” the young man declared, smiling. “I just got the bill for the work of rebuilding my aeroplane. And believe me! I might as well have bought a new one. Then, losing that watch grandmother gave me——”

“Ah-ha!” cried Amy, with delight. “Are you going to make some reckless offer of reward for the return of that watch, Mark Stratford?”

“Hey! Look here!” interrupted Henrietta. “You needn’t think Monty Shannon, or none of the rest of us Dogtown kids, took your old watch.”

“Never dreamed of such a thing!” declared Mark, smiling at the little girl. “I certainly would not accuse that Shannon kid of doing such a thing.”

“You are quite right,” said Jessie. “And to save you from further worry—” She proceeded to open the box she carried and handed him the watch and chain. A watchmaker in New Melford had cleaned and repaired the timepiece and it was running, as good as new.

“Three cheers!” exclaimed Mark, his face revealing his delight. “I don’t mind the aeroplane bill now. You girls are wonders!”

“You ought to thank them publicly,” said Darry, grinning. “You’ve advertised the loss of the watch enough, Mark.”

“I’ll do it! I’ll sure do it!” declared Mark, nodding.

But the Roselawn girls did not dream what he meant until the next evening when, at eight o’clock, just at the beginning of the Stratfordtown sending station entertainment, and when Jessie and Amy had adjusted their earphones to listen in, they caught Mark’s voice out of the air. It said deliberately:

“Stratfordtown Station: Before our regular program this evening, Mr. Mark Stratford wishes publicly to thank Miss Amy Drew and Miss Jessie Norwood, of Roselawn, for the discovery and return of a keepsake of which Mr. Stratford thinks highly, and for which there could be no possibility of adequate replacement.”

“I declare, Jess Norwood! you are blushing,” laughed Amy, pulling off her eartabs.

“It seems so public!” murmured her chum.

“I should hope so! Radio telephony is a very public thing, if anybody should ask you. See what it has already done for the hospital fund. In answer to Doctor Stanley’s appeal, contributions have been pouring in all day. And it has only begun. Why, one of the richest men in this county had not heard of the charity until the entertainment started yesterday over his radio. And he has promised ten thousand dollars. While four boys who own a set together in New York have sent a dollar—a quarter apiece. Of course it is public!”

“Hush!” Jessie begged, but smiling. “Listen in again, Amy. Madame Elva is going to sing ‘My Old Kentucky Home.’ Listen!”

And then all sounds ceased in Jessie Norwood’s sitting room save those which came over the wireless.

THE END