The Campfire Girls of Roselawn: or, a Strange Message from the Air

What Mark Stratford had said to Jessie about Superintendent Blair kept recurring to the Roselawn girl, and she felt that she should tell the man who had charge of the Stratford Electric Corporation radio program about the girl who had been rescued from the horsewoman. As we meet Jessie and Amy and Bertha and all their friends in another volume, called “The Radio Girls on the Program; Or, Singing and Reciting at the Sending Station,” in all probability Jessie Norwood will do just that.

“You girls,” Darry Drew said to Jessie and Amy, “have got more radio stuff in your heads than most fellows I know. Why, you are as good as boys at it.”

“I like that!” exclaimed his sister. “Is there anything, I’d like to know, that girls can’t beat boys at?”

“One thing,” put in Burd Alling solemnly.

“What’s that?”

“Killing snakes,” said Burd.

“Wrong! Wrong!” cried Jessie, laughing. “You ought to see little Henrietta attack a flock of snakes. She takes the palm.”

“Think of it, a little girl like that going after snakes!” murmured Burd. “She must have nerve!”

“She has,” declared Jessie. “And she is as clever as can be, too, in spite of her odd way of expressing herself.”

“I wonder what they’ll do about Bertha Blair,” came from Darry.

“She certainly had an adventure,” observed Burd. “Maybe the movie people will want her – or the vaudeville managers. They often pick up people like that, who have been in the limelight.”

“I don’t think Momsy will allow anything of that sort,” returned Jessie. “I’m sure she and Daddy will think up something better.”

Suddenly Amy, who was resting comfortably in the porch hammock, leaped to her feet.

“I declare! I forgot!” she cried.

“Forgot what?” came in a chorus from the others.

“Forgot that special concert to-day – that one to be given over the radio by that noted French soprano. You know who I mean – the one with the unpronounceable name.”

“Oh, yes!” ejaculated Jessie. “Let me see – what time was it?” She consulted her wrist watch. “I declare! it starts in five minutes.”

“Then come on and tune in. I’ve been thinking of that concert ever since it was advertised. Miss Gress, the music teacher, heard her sing in Paris and she says she’s wonderful. Come on. Will you boys come along?”

“Might as well,” answered Darry. “We haven’t anything else to do.”

“And I like a good singer,” added Burd.

In another moment all were trooping up to Jessie’s pretty room where she had her receiving set. The necessary tuning in was soon accomplished and in a minute more all were listening to a song from one of the favorite operas, rendered as only a great singer can render it. And here, for the time being we will say good-bye to the Radio Girls of Roselawn.

THE END