Benjamin Franklinstein Meets the Fright Brothers Read Free Page A

its charge fairly quickly, so Franklin spent his nights plugged into an outlet in his apartment. This recharged both his bloodstream and the special battery belt that Victor had devised to keep him regulated through the day. Without the belt, Franklin risked becoming over- or underpowered, either of which could lead to disastrous results.
    Victor knocked again, and the door swung open. There stood Franklin, proudly resplendent in his colonial-era clothing.
    â€œVictor! Good morning!”
    â€œHi, Ben. I’m sorry to get you up so early.”
    â€œEarly? I’ve been up for hours. Are you as excited about the Independence Day Bicycle Parade as I am?”
    â€œUh, probably not as excited as you are,” said Victor, “but, sure, I’m excited.”
    â€œYou must see my bicycle. Please, come in.”
    Victor stepped inside Franklin’s apartment. There, in the center of the room, stood the most ridiculously patriotic bike Victor had ever seen. Painted in alternating stripes of red, white, and blue, it sported streamers, cardboard stars, and a flag of Franklin’s own “Don’t Tread on Me” design. Even the tires had been decorated with glitter and stickers.
    Franklin walked over and stood proudly beside the handlebars. “What do you think, my boy?”
    â€œIt’s very . . . American. Did you do this all yourself?”
    â€œI’ve been working on it all week. Is it enough?”
    â€œEnough?”
    â€œEnough to honor this great day! I have more stickers—”
    â€œNo, I think it has enough stickers,” said Victor. “You’ve really been looking forward to this, haven’t you?”
    â€œSince seventeen seventy-six, my boy! I only wish Jefferson, Adams, and Washington could be here to share it with me. Well, maybe not Adams—he could get cranky. But you know what I mean.”
    â€œI do.” Victor knelt down and admired Franklin’s handiwork. “It’s a great bike, Ben. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
    â€œThank you, Victor. And how are things with you?”
    â€œExcellent. I’ve had a brainstorm.”
    Victor explained his plan for an electrophone alert system as Franklin listened intently. Although the old man had missed the last two centuries of technology, he was a quick study.
    â€œIt’s brilliant!” said Franklin. He paused for a moment, deep in thought. “But . . . have you considered attaching the sensor directly to the speaking cone on the electrophone? That’s where the harmonic signal strength should be greatest.”
    â€œI considered that,” said Victor. “But wouldn’t it interfere with the—”
    â€œNot if we insulate the pickup coil completely,” interrupted Franklin. “In fact, the insulation might well—”
    â€œâ€”solve our harmonic interference problem!” finished Victor. “It makes perfect sense. But we’d better hurry. Scott said he’d be here at nine thirty.”
    â€œTo the laboratory!” announced Franklin, with a flourish.

    The work went even faster than Victor had expected, and within an hour they had their alert system working pretty well. Victor went outside to wait for Scott while Franklin put a few finishing touches on his bicycle.
    At ten fifteen, Victor finally spotted his friend pedaling around the corner at the far end of the street. He was carrying something big on his handlebars, and his bike wobbled and swerved under the weight. As he grew closer, Victor could see that the object was a large, wooden antique radio.
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    THE GODWIN-FRANKLIN ELECTROPHONE ALERT SYSTEM

    â€œHey, Victor,” huffed Scott, “check it out. This used to . . . be my . . . grandfather’s.” Scott careened up the sidewalk, where he and the bike dropped, exhausted, onto their sides. The radio tumbled off the handlebars and onto the lawn.
    Victor walked over and tipped the radio upright. It was