ts of
boys are doing so."

"And anything a boy can do a girl ought to do a little better," Amy
added.

The clerk laughed as he wrapped up the several books Jessie had
charged to her father's account. "You let me know how you get on
building it, will you?" he said. "Maybe I can get some ideas from your
experience."

"We'll show 'em!" declared Amy, all in a glow of excitement. "And why
do you suppose, Jess, folks always have to suggest that girls can't do
what boys can? Isn't it ridiculous!"

"Very," agreed Jessie. "Although, just as I pointed out a while ago,
it would have been handy if Darry or Burd had been with us when we saw
that poor girl kidnaped."

"Of course! But, then, those boys are college men." She giggled. "And
I wager Burd is a sea-sick college man just now."

"Oh! Have they gone out in the _Marigold_?" cried Jessie.

"They left New Haven the minute they could get away and joined the
yacht at Groton, over across from New London, where it has been tied
up all winter. Father insisted that Darry shouldn't touch the yacht,
when Uncle Will died and left it to him last fall, until the college
year was ended. We got a marconigram last night that they had passed
Block Island going out. And _now_--well, Burd never was at sea before,
you know," and Amy laughed again.

"It has been rather windy. I suppose it must be rough out in the
ocean. Oh, Amy!" Jess suddenly exclaimed, "if I get my radio rigged
why can't we communicate with the _Marigold_ when it is at sea?"

"I don't know just why you can't. But I guess the wireless rigging on
the yacht isn't like this radio thing you are going to set up. They
use some sort of telegraph alphabet."

"I know," declared Jessie with conviction. "I'll tell Darry to put in
a regular sending set--like the one I hope to have, if father will let
me. And we can have our two sets tuned so that we can hear each other
speak."

"My goodness! You don't mean it is as easy as all that?" cried Amy.

"Didn't you read that magazine article?" demanded her chum. "And
didn't the man say that, pretty soon, we could carry receiving and
sending sets in our pockets--maybe--and stop right on the street and
send or receive any news we wanted to?"

"No, I sha'n't," declared Amy. "Pockets spoil the set of even a sports
skirt. Where you going now?"

"In here. Mr. Brill sells electrical supplies as well as hardware. Oh!
Amy Drew! There is a radio set in his window! I declare, New Melford
is