ed," he said, stepping aside, "go ahead."

"Look here," said Jack, flushing at this grumpy attitude, but deciding
to do the manly thing, nevertheless, and extending his hand, "let
bygones be bygones."

After a moment's hesitation, Muller shook hands. To do him justice, it
is only fair to point out that he was sincere in his attitude toward
Americans, but misled.

"I haven't time to explain about that blow," said Jack, "but at the
moment it was necessary. Matters have changed since then. It was
nothing personal."

"Very well," said Muller, his grumpiness beginning to disappear
beneath the charm of Jack's manner. "Say no more. Now what is it you
want? Perhaps I can help you."

"We want to use the radio," said Jack, noting Bob's growing impatience
at their delay.

"What station do you want to call?"

"The Hampton ranch," interrupted Bob, who decided it was time to bring
this conversation to an end. He was in a hurry to talk with his
father.

"Are you calling Rollins?"

This reminder of the erstwhile traitor at the Hampton ranch brought
both boys to a realization that Muller was familiar with the manner of
calling their station, as undoubtedly he had handled or conducted
radio conversations with Rollins in the past.

"No, not Rollins," said Bob, shortly. It was all right for Jack to
shake hands with Muller if he wanted to. Jack and Muller had been
active opponents, and such an act was only sportsmanlike under the
circumstances. But Bob disliked the young German on sight. "Just let
me at the phone," he said, "and turn on the juice."

"Very well."

Muller turned stiffly and entered the power plant adjacent, while Bob
in a fever adjusted the headpiece. As the hum of machinery sounded
from the power plant, Jack laid a hand on Bob's arm.

"Look here, Bob. Wait a minute."

Bob regarded him inquiringly, his fingers reaching for the knobs on
the instrument box before him, preparatory to sending out his signal
call.

"What is it, now?"

"Well, you know old Frank will have his ear glued to the receiver at
the cave. Suppose you call your father, but tell Frank to listen in
and not interrupt."

"Right," said Bob. "Well, here goes." And he began calling the Hampton
ranch.

CHAPTER XXXI

CALM AFTER THE STORM

Meanwhile, as Jack had foreseen, Mr. Temple waited at the radio plant
at the Hampton ranch with ill-concealed impatience.

Dave Morningstar, hat pulled down over his eyes, sat in a chair tilted