ion of ether waves, and after all, night time is the ideal
season for such doings. Second, comparatively few amateurs were sitting
in at this time of the day, although vacation had arrived and closed the
schoolhouse doors.

Cub kept up his efforts for an hour, with virtually no success. Although
he succeeded in communicating with half a dozen "hams", only one of them
had listened-in to any of the messages that passed between the Catwhisker
boys and the two Canadian radio contestants, and he was able to throw no
light on the "mystery". At last he gave it up for the time being, and
joined the other Catwhiskerites on deck for a period of sightseeing
enjoyment.

They cruised about among the islands most of the day, stopping here and
there to inspect some apparently unclaimed scene of enchantment, or
visiting various places exploited for gain by private interests as
centers of entertainment and recreation. They circumnavigated Wellesly
Island, making short stops at several points of interest and at about
4:30 p.m. tied up in a quiet shelter overhung by a low-limbed tamarack
and cast their baited fishhooks into the water for a "brain-food" supper.
This was not more than half a mile from the tie-up where they passed
their first night in the Thousand Islands. The finny fellows bit greedily
and in a short time they had enough black bass and pickerel to feed a
party twice the size of theirs.

After supper all repaired to the cabin, and the boys donned phones, while
Cub started a broadcasting campaign in search of information regarding
the two Canadian wireless contestants, who seemed to have made a trio of
monkeys out of the three radio motor-boat boys.

"I haven't much idea what kind of questions to ask or what kind of
answers to expect," he said to his companions; "but here goes my
best guess."

He had selected an intermission period in the atmosphere when the big
broadcasting stations were quiet, and then gave the general call and sent
out the following:

"I want help to identify and locate an amateur who figured in mysterious
radio affair in last two days. He said his name was Raymond Flood, that
he lived in Kingston, that his call was V A X, and that he was marooned
on island in St. Lawrence River. Can anybody help me? Call A V L."

Immediately three amateurs, two in Canada and one in New York State,
clamored for a hearing. Cub wrote down their calls and then took on the
one in Kingston first.

"There is no such am