alone, I guess, but when I hollered for
help Dad came in from the power house on the run and the pair of us
put them down for the count. We've got them tied up here now. The
microphone cord was snapped but I was able to make repairs. So I
started calling for you right away."

"Jack, this is Mr. Temple," cut in the older man at this point. "If
your father is there, please put him on the phone. I'd like to speak
to him."

"All right, Mr. Temple," answered Jack. "He's right here. Wait just a
minute."

Frank and Bob politely removed their headpieces and walked to a
bookcase, talking in low tones, as they leaned their elbows on the top
of it. This room, by the way, deserves a brief description.

It was circular and without windows. The walls were hung with a
material resembling burlap in appearance, but of special construction
and sound-proof. The ceiling was nine feet high. From a point six feet
up the walls material like that in the walls stretched to a point in
the middle of the ceiling. The room had somewhat the appearance of the
interior of a small circus tent. This construction was for the purpose
of increasing the acoustic properties.

While Mr. Temple conversed with Mr. Hampton, in whose oil operations
he naturally was interested, as he had invested a considerable sum in
them, the boys talked in whispers. They were frankly envious of Jack's
adventures and wishing that they, too, were on the ground. Suddenly,
something said by his father caught Bob's attention, and he stopped
talking to Frank and turned to listen.

"Well, I'll tell you, Hampton," Bob heard his father say, "I've got a
sharp attack of spring fever. I think I need a vacation. And if these
two youngsters of mine will let me go along, I'll come out with them."

Bob couldn't control his eagerness. Going up to his father's side, he
pulled insistently at his sleeve.

"Wait a minute, Hampton," said Mr. Temple. "Bob has something on his
mind." He removed the receiver and regarded his son with a twinkle.
"Out with it," he said. "I suppose that quite shamelessly you've been
listening to my conversation."

"No, Dad, Honest Injun," protested Bob. "Only I couldn't help
overhearing that part about you going with us. Say, Dad, we'll go by
airplane, won't we?"

Mr. Temple groaned in mock dismay. "Run along," he said. "You'll drive
me crazy with that airplane business." Then, once more adjusting his
headpiece, he resumed his interrupted conversation with Mr