Sahwah’s notebook came in for inspection and much admiration, for she was good at Physics and her drawings were to be envied.  “I see you have a list of all the problems the class has done this year,” said Dick Albright, looking through the notebook.  “Do you mind if I copy them from your list?  I lost the one Fizzy gave us in class and it’ll take me all night to pick them out from the ones in the book.”

“Certainly, you may,” said Sahwah cordially.  “Take it along with you and bring it to school in the morning.  It’ll be all right as long as I get it in by that time.  But don’t forget it, whatever you do, unless you want to see me put out of the game.”  Joe Lanning wished fervently that Dick would forget to bring it.  The party broke up and the boys and girls prepared to depart.

“What car do you take, Dick?” asked one of the boys.

“I don’t think I’ll take any,” said Dick.  “I’ll just run around the corner with this lady,” he said, indicating Migwan, “and then I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

“Isn’t it pretty far?” asked some one else.

“Not the way I go,” answered Dick.  “I take the short cut through the railway tunnel.”  Joe Lanning’s eyes gleamed suddenly.

The good-nights were all said and Sahwah shut the door and set the furniture straight before she went to bed.  “Didn’t your friends stay rather late?” asked her mother from upstairs.

“No,” said Sahwah, “I don’t think so, it’s only—­why, the clock has stopped,” she finished after a look at the mantel, “I don’t know what time it is.”

“Get the time from the telephone operator,” said her mother, “and set the clock.”

Sahwah picked up the receiver.  There was a strange buzzing noise on the wire.  “Zig-a-zig, ziz-zig-zig-a-zig, zig-g-g, zig-g-g, zig-g-g-g.”  Puzzled at first, she soon recognized what it was.  It was the sound of Joe Lanning’s wireless.  Joe lived directly back of Sahwah on the next street, and the aerial of his wireless apparatus was fastened to the telephone pole in the Brewsters’ yard.  Joe was “sending,” and the vibrations were being picked up by the telephone wires and carried to her ear when she had the receiver down.  Sahwah understood the wireless code the boys used, and, in fact, had both sent and received messages.  She knew it was Joe’s custom to listen for the time every night as it was flashed out from the station at Arlington, and then send it to his friend Abraham Goldstein, a young Jewish lad in the class, who also had a wireless.  Then the two would send each other messages and verify them the next day.  “Oh, what fun,” thought Sahwah; “I can get Arlington time to-night.”  She asked the operator to look up a new number for her to keep her off the line and then got out paper and pencil to take down the message as it went out.  As she deciphered it she gasped in astonishment.  She had expected a message something on this order:  “Hello, Abraham—­how are you?—­Arlington