The boys took regular turns at the radio table in the cabin that
afternoon and found the occupation of listening-in much more interesting
than it had been at their homes, not because of any particular difference
in the messages, but because of the more romantic character of their new
motives and surroundings. Even the multitude of static interferences that
swarmed the atmosphere on this, the first oppressively hot day of the
season, were combatted with tuning coil, condenser, and detector, so
confidently, although with poor success, that Mr. Perry pronounced them
all "princes of patience".

In other words, the boys were in the best of spirits, all handicaps
notwithstanding. Cub's father had not taken his first lesson in wireless
telegraphy, and so left the radio field entirely to the three young
amateur experts. In spite of the heat, they were able to get a more or
less broken message now and then from the "island prisoner", but could
get no acknowledgment of receipt of messages sent by them until about
supper time.

"If it weren't for this heat, we probably could 'ave got a message to him
as we were leaving Oswego," Cub remarked to Bud after they had been on
the lake about two hours.

"The atmosphere is the worst I've ever known it to be," returned Bud, who
had been laboring hard with key and spark for some time. "If it don't
clear up, we may not be able to begin our hunt for him before morning."

"Well, we'll go along until half an hour before dark, I suppose, and then
find a place to tie up till morning," said Cub.