hat stuttering voice seemed an
impossible feat even for the radio boys. If they could only get some
tangible clue to work on!

They saw nothing of Buck Looker or his cronies about town, and concluded
that they were still at the lumber camp.

"Can't stay away too long to suit me," Bob said cheerfully.

It was about that time that Bob found out about Adam McNulty. Adam
McNulty was the blind father of the washerwoman who served the four
families of the boys.

Bob went to the McNulty cabin, buried in the most squalid district of
the town, bearing a message from his mother. When he got there he found
that Mr. McNulty was the only one at home.

The old fellow, smoking a black pipe in the bare kitchen of the house,
seemed so pathetically glad to see some one--or, rather, to hear some
one--that Bob yielded to his invitation to sit down and talk to him.

And, someway, even after Bob reached home, he could not shake off the
memory of the lonesome old blind man with nothing to do all day long but
sit in a chair smoking his pipe, waiting for some chance word from a
passer-by.

It did not seem fair that he, Bob, should have all the good things of
life while that old man should have nothing--nothing, at all.

He spoke to his chums about it, but, though they were sympathetic, they
did not see anything they could do.

"We can't give him back his eyesight, you know," said Joe absently,
already deep in a new scheme of improvement for the set.

"No," said Bob. "But we might give him something that would do nearly as
well."

"What do you mean?" they asked, puzzled.

"Radio," said Bob, and laid his hand lovingly on the apparatus. "If it
means a lot to us, just think how much more it would mean to some one
who hasn't a thing to do all day but sit and think. Why, I don't suppose
any of us who can see can begin to realize what it would mean not to be
able even to read the daily newspaper."

The others stared at Bob, and slowly his meaning sank home.

"I get you," said Joe slowly. "And say, let me tell you, it's a great
idea, Bob. It wouldn't be so bad to be blind if you could have the daily
news read to you every day----"

"And listen to the latest on crops," added Jimmy.

"To say nothing of the latest jazz," finished Herb, with a grin.

"Well, why doesn't this blind man get himself a set?" asked Jimmy
practically. "I should think every blind person in the country would
want to own one."

"I suppose every one of them doe