For a moment Tom wanted to shout in delight, for, perhaps due to the fact that the performers wore contrasting garments of red and violet, the images projected were clearer than any Tom had yet succeeded in getting through by means of his new wireless apparatus. “I believe I’ve struck it!” he whispered. Then he began to laugh, for Mr. Damon certainly was funny. He even seemed to know that Tom, in a distant room, could see him, for the odd man winked one eye and made gestures at Tom as though the young inventor were personally before him. “Ha! Ha!” chuckled Tom. “I must get dad in to see this. He’ll believe in it now.” For, up to this time, Mr. Swift had been rather skeptical, though he was fully in sympathy with Tom’s aims. “And I’d like to show it to Mary,” mused the young inventor, as he sat there enjoying what really was a team vaudeville sketch without either of the artists being in the room with him. Their song, the music, and even the shuffling of their feet came plainly to him through the loud speaker, while the image was shimmering on the metallic glass screen almost as plainly as though Tom had been in the studio. Of course the image was in reduced size. The screen was about three feet square, and life-sized figures cannot be shown on that. “But in time I can get them full size,” Tom decided. “Oh, but this is good! I can see success now, though it still must be a little clearer to make it a positive thing and in natural colors.” Then he bethought him that Ned and Mr. Damon must be tired, for they had been keeping steadily at it for nearly an hour while Tom tried different combinations of lights and currents of various intensities in order to get the best effects. “Guess I’ll ’phone them that they can let up now,” decided the young inventor. “They must be tired. And Ned wants to go see Helen. By the same token I’d better give Mary a call, I guess. I’ve been rather neglecting her of late—too busy over this invention.” Then another thought came to Tom—that he would have the girls and perhaps their parents come to the studio to take a look at the result he had accomplished. True, it was not yet perfected; but he knew his friends would keep his secret until he could complete the patent applications. “Yes, I’ll give the girls a show,” decided Tom. “They sure will enjoy Mr. Damon’s singing and dancing. Gosh, but he’s funny!” Tom shut off the power. The image faded from the screen which turned from milky whiteness to the blackness of pitch. Then the voices of the performers died away as Tom cut off the radio. He was about to step to the telephone to advise his friends of his almost complete success and to tell them to cease their efforts when a noise out in the corridor attracted his attention. “Maybe they’ve decided to quit of their own accord,” mused Tom.