CHAPTER VII

“Wireless Shoes”

Two more weeks elapsed, and Guy was authorized by the specialist to “throw away” his glasses. This he did joyfully, for now he would be able to see something of London in its natural colors. He had heard much of the great city’s buildings, black from the smoke-laden fog, but was now pleased to find that they were not nearly so unsightly as they had been described to him.

His association with Smithers continued with more or less intimacy up to the time of the departure for Liverpool to take passage for America. The man persisted in making himself agreeable in a sort of inconsequential manner, and the boy could see no reason for repelling his friendly advances, inasmuch as they seemed to be genuine. Indeed, the Bond street jeweler was cunningly skilled in the art of affability and could, on occasion, advance his purpose by making himself useful as well as entertaining.

On the last Saturday of Guy’s sojourn in London, Smithers invited him to take another motor ride, this time through other parts of the city and adjoining suburbs. As they were spinning back toward the hotel in the evening, the conversation turned upon Guy’s expected departure for America a few days later.

“What day are you going to leave?” asked the jewel merchant, introducing the subject.

“Wednesday,” Guy replied.

“Well, I’m sorry you’re going, but glad your eyes are all right. Hope you come back some time again. When you do, look me up, and I’ll be at your service. I’m a lonesome fellow when alone and like to pick up folks and give ’em a good time.”

“I’ve appreciated your kindness,” the boy responded warmly. “I wish I could return the favor.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, nothing at all. You’re perfectly welcome. I took a personal pleasure in doing it. But, by the way, you can do me a favor if you will. Maybe you’ll be a little interested in the idea, too, as it has a kind of affinity for your hobby. I have a friend in New York who is troubled with rheumatism in the feet, and I want to send him a pair of wireless shoes.”

“Wireless shoes!” exclaimed Guy. “That’s a new one on me.”

“It will be a new one on my friend, too,” declared Smithers with an eager twinkle in his eyes. “But seriously, it’s a very good thing, and I want my friend to get the benefit of it without having to wait until we’ve protected all our rights with patents.”

“Why don’t you express them to your friend right from here?” asked Guy.

“That’s just the point that I want you to help me get around. I’m afraid to put a pair of those shoes in the hands of anybody here in England. I know we’re being watched by persons who wouldn’t hesitate to steal the idea from us. You see, the revenue officers make a close inspection of all such shipments, and I’m afraid they’d ask embarrassing questions if I tried to send the shoes as you suggest. There’s no telling what might happen, for the persons who are watching us have good government connections. The best way to get around this danger, it seems to me, is to have some trustworthy person take the shoes to America and there express them to my friend. There’d be no revenue charge on a personal item of that kind.”

“That’s very interesting,” said Guy; “and I’ll be glad to do anything I can to help you get the shoes to your friend. But aren’t you putting too much confidence in me? I might make a blunder of some kind that would give your secret away.”

“I’m not afraid of that,” assured Smithers. “The only way you could do me any harm is by purposely betraying me, and I’ll risk that without any fear whatever. Of course, if it would inconvenience you any—”

“No inconvenience at all,” interrupted Guy reassuringly. “You can depend on me to take care of the matter without fail. But I admit I’m curious to know why you call them wireless shoes.”

“Because they are strictly wireless shoes, operating on the same principle as wireless telegraphy.”

“You don’t say. But, understand, I’m not asking you to reveal your secret to me. Of course, you wouldn’t do it if I asked you to.”

“No, not all of it,” Smithers replied. “But I’m glad to tell you this much: Inside the heels are small induction coils. The antenna consists of a wire belt with fine flexible wires running down inside the trouser legs and coupling with wire posts at the tops of the shoes. This antenna is sensitive to wireless waves constantly pulsating in the ether. When the connections are complete, the induction coil is thrown into action by the wireless waves received, and a condition of electro-magnetism is produced. One necessary connection is made by pressing the bare sole of the foot against two electrodes on the inner side of the sole of each shoe, so that each foot gets the benefit of the wireless waves and the electric reaction. That sounds like the whole secret, doesn’t it, but there’s another important element I’m holding back.”

“The idea’s clever,” said the boy with a smile of amused interest. “I’ll be glad to take a pair and express them to your friend in New York, and I hope they’ll cure his rheumatism.”

And so when Guy and his mother started for Liverpool, the former had in his trunk a box containing a pair of seemingly ordinary, well made shoes and a detached arrangement of insulated wires and belt antenna. On a card in his purse, he had also, as a memorandum, the name and New York address of Stanley Pickett, to whom Smithers had requested him to express the shoes.

Guy was especially sorry to part with Artie Fletcher. It seemed like saying good-by to a chum of years. Of course, they agreed to write to each other, and Artie promised to be careful when out in the fog and to inform Guy if he saw or heard anything more of the highwayman of the “funny voice.”

The liner, Herculanea, on which Mrs. Burton and her son took passage at Liverpool was larger than the one on which they had made their first voyage, affording a greater variety of service, convenience, and entertainment. Guy found a new general pleasure on this trip, in that he was permitted to view things without colored glasses. It seemed almost like traveling on a new sea, in a new world, among a new kind of people and on a new kind of ship.

On the first day out, a chance incident caused him to make the acquaintance of the second mate, and in the conversation that followed, Guy disclosed his interest in wireless telegraphy. The officer was sociable and obliging and introduced the boy to the operator in the radio house near the bridge. The latter, too, proved to be a good-natured fellow, although perpetually busy, and allowed the “radio boy” to listen in several times.

Guy made another acquaintance also while the steamer was passing from Liverpool to Queensland. It was with a man who occupied a stateroom next to his. This passenger was a very talkative fellow, with a peculiar knack of seeming to say a good deal every time he spoke. He was straight-built, of medium height and weight, wore a mustache and goatee, and bore himself with the manner of one subconsciously wise. Guy was well impressed with him at first because he was lively and interesting.

“I dropped a bunch of keys somewhere around here,” were the words with which this passenger first addressed himself to Burton. The latter had just come out of his stateroom and was moving toward the stairway to join his mother on the promenade when “the man next door” spoke to him.

“I didn’t see them,” Guy replied, delaying just long enough to be courteous and then moving on.

He reached the promenade and found his mother where he had left her, one of a group of some twenty passengers, all watching the shifting scene between them and the English shore. The steamer was plowing through St. George’s channel, and the dominant feature of the scene consisted of vessels of all sorts, big and small, and seemingly without number.

A few minutes later the stateroom neighbor of the Burtons approached and took a seat near the boy. The latter did not observe him at once, but when he did, the man greeted him with a careless smile that inspired confidence and familiarity:

“Did you find your keys?” inquired Guy.

“Yes, thank you,” was the reply. “I’d dropped ’em in my stateroom.”

“You’re lucky.”

“You’re right, I’m lucky. I’d ’ave missed a very important wireless message if I hadn’t found that key.”

“Is that so!” Guy returned with puzzled curiosity. “You interest me, for I have a wireless outfit at home and I can’t see how the loss of a key could ’ave caused you to miss a wireless message.”

“Oh,” replied the strange fellow; “that’s easily explained. You see I’m on a business trip to America, and the business success of myself and my partner depends to a considerable extent on the schemes we resort to for the sake of economy. Now, it’s important that I receive a telegram from my partner every day, but not important that I should answer those telegrams. So I’ve provided myself with a wireless receiving set, and every day at an agreed time I am at my station to get his message. I just got today’s message which I’d ’ave missed if I hadn’t been able to find my keys.”

“Do you mean that you have an indoor receiving outfit set up in your stateroom?” Guy demanded in astonishment.

“That’s exactly what I do mean,” replied the “radio man.”

“You don’t mean to say that you expect to receive messages from England with an indoor set all the way across the Atlantic ocean,” Guy continued with increasing wonder.

“I certainly do,” was the others reply. “I’ve done it many times on trips to America. But of course there are not many receiving sets like mine. It’s almost an invention in itself. My partner was with the British signal service in France, and he had a good deal of experience with V-shaped antennae on scouting automobiles for locating German wireless stations. Connected with those antennae were loading coils, sufficient to give very small antennae the receiving range of aerials a hundred feet long or more.”

“Excuse my inquisitiveness,” said Guy, “but do you maintain a sending station in England? I don’t see where the economy comes in.”

“Very simply matter,” answered the “radio man,” “we have a secret ally who is an operator for a certain mercantile station. He sends the messages to me in secret code. I always know his wave length and never miss.”

“That’s interesting,” Guy remarked at the close of this explanation, but the tone of his voice did not indicate much enthusiasm. He felt considerable doubt as to the propriety of the method employed by Gunseyt and his partner in getting free trans-Atlantic wireless service.

“Come in and look my set over any time,” said the radio trickster. “Here’s my card. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

“Guy Burton,” answered the boy, glancing at the card on which was printed the name Christopher Gunseyt and the address London. “This is my mother, Mr. Gunseyt,” he added; for Mrs. Burton had been an attentive listener to the conversation.