THE TROUBLE AT THE AIR SHIP.
When Carl and Ferral went on guard duty, Brady, still bound, was left
in the car of the Hawk. From the deep gloom of the billboard, Carl
watched both ways--kept his eye on the street for possible signs of
Pete and Whipple, and looked occasionally toward the car to make sure
that Brady was keeping quiet.
Carl always claimed to have "hunches" when anything was going wrong.
He had a good many "hunches" when nothing ever went wrong, but rarely
had anything to say when his dismal forebodings failed to make good.
However, when his "hunch" struck him shortly before a bit of hard luck,
he was sure to brag about it.
One of the shivery feelings which Carl supposed to be a "hunch" had
been on him ever since they had started from the balloon house. Instead
of finding Dave Glennie, the city detective, by the old quarry, the
chums had run into Hector Brady; and, right after that, they had had an
encounter with Pete and Whipple, and had got away by a narrow margin.
This amount of trouble ought to have been sufficient for any ordinary
"hunch," but it did not satisfy Carl's. The shivery feeling still held
him in its grip, and he was looking for something else to strike Matt,
and Ferral, and himself.
Ferral, finding everything quiet in the alley, strolled around by the
end of the billboard. Carl was so busy looking for trouble that he did
not see his chum coming. When he heard his step, close behind him, Carl
jumped about ten feet.
"Ach, vat a cholt!" he murmured, recognizing the low laugh that greeted
him when he turned around. "You hatn't ought to do dot, Verral," he
went on reproachfully. "You come pooty near shcarin' me oudt oof a
year's growt'."
"What ails you, old ship?" queried Ferral. "I never saw you in such a
taking before. There must be something wrong with your top hamper."
"I don't know abudt dot," said Carl, "aber I bed my life somet'ing
pooty bad iss going to habben mit us. I got der feeling in my
pones--leetle didicums valkin' all droo me--lettle spookishness
feelings like vat I can't tell hop, shkip und chumping oop my shpine.
Yah, himmelblitzen, dot's der t'ing vat I feels, und it makes me vant
to yell righdt oudt. You efer haf dot, Verral?"
"From your description," chuckled Ferral, "I don't think anything of
that kind ever crossed my hawse. It must be an awful feeling, Carl."
"Ach, vorse as dot! I vas a rekular drouple parometer. Schust vatch me
und you can alvays tell schust ven hardt luck is going to shdrike Modor
Matt und his bards. Now, ve vill ged some more do-nighdt, I tell you
dose."
"What sort of trouble will it be?"
"I don'd know dot, aber I bed you Matt is mixed oop in it. I ditn't
pelieve dot he ought to haf svallowed all dot talk Prady gif him.
Anyvay, you see how Matt dook it down, und here ve are, und dere iss
Matt ofer der alley--und der teufel knows vat vill habben pecause oof
it, I don'd."
"That old raggie of ours, Carl, generally knows what he's about. It
ain't often that he gets fooled."
"Don'd I know dot? He iss der greadest feller dot efer vas, aber der
pest oof dem vill make a misblay vonce und oggasionally. Matt ought to
haf let me go along mit him. He has peen gone a goot vile now, und he
may be in drouble alretty for all dot ve know."
"Matt can keep out of trouble easier than any fellow you ever saw,"
answered Ferral.
"Sure! Aber I vish dot you vould go ofer py der alley und lisden
pehindt der house. See oof you can hear anyt'ing vat lisdens like
drouple."
"I'll go you, Carl," said Ferral, "not because I don't think Matt's not
able to take care of himself, but just to ease up a bit on your nerves.
I never saw a fellow that liked to fight better than you do, and it's
main queer you'll let a foreboding of trouble get you on the mat like
that."
"Der forepoding iss der whole drouple; oof der fighdt vould come on
mitoudt dot, I vouldt be habby. Yah, so. It's der uncerdainty oof vat
iss coming vat hurts."
With an amused laugh, Ferral strolled off toward the alley. Carl
watched him vanish into the deeper shadows cast by the sheds and other
buildings, and then allowed his eyes to swerve toward the car of the
air ship.
The Dutch boy had cast an apprehensive look toward the car a score of
times without seeing anything. This time, however, he saw something,
and that was the figure of a man jumping over the rail. With a wild
yell he rushed toward the car. The man, running like a deer, came
directly toward him, and Carl planted himself firmly and made ready to
use his fists.
As the running form came closer, Carl made it out to be Brady.
The escaping prisoner lurched to one side in order to give Carl a wide
berth.
"No, you don'd!" cried Carl, and threw himself in front of Brady. The
latter, by a dexterous move, put out a foot and tripped the Dutch boy,
sending him heels over head. While Carl was getting up, he saw Brady
disappearing around one end of the billboard.
"What's run afoul of you, mate?" demanded Ferral, hurrying to the scene.
"Prady!" answered Carl excitedly. "He has proken loose mit himseluf und
run avay!"
Carl at once started on the trail, darting around the end of the
billboard and plunging into the street. Once in the thoroughfare, he
was puzzled to know which way Brady had gone. The fellow was out of
sight and hearing, and all Carl could do was to make a guess and plunge
away.
He guessed wrong, and after he had run two blocks he made up his
mind that he would go the other way and raced back. In front of the
billboard he was stopped by Matt, Ferral and some one else. It was too
dark for Carl to see who the third man was.
"Hold up, Carl!" called Matt, grabbing him, "there's no use whaling
around like that."
"Prady has got avay!" cried Carl.
"So Dick was telling us. It's hard luck, and I can't understand it."
"Did you have Brady?" demanded the third member of the party.
"Vell, oof it ain'd Harris!" murmured Carl. "Vere dit you come from?"
Harris had no time, just then, for useless talk.
"Yes," said Matt, "we had Brady. He was a prisoner in the air ship, and
he loosened his ropes and made a break for his freedom. I'm all at sea
and can't make head or tail of it."
"If he's in this town," proceeded Harris, "he can be captured, but
we'll have to call on the police authorities here. However, now that
Brady's got away, that can wait a few minutes. Tell me all about how
you found him."
Matt went over the event of Brady's capture at some length, telling
briefly what Brady had told him and how he and his chums had come to
bring the Hawk to the vacant lot near Hooligan's.
It was the first chance since Matt had found Harris in the house that
the two had had to talk. Harris, as might be supposed, was amazed.
"A queer move for Brady to make," muttered the officer. "A big change
must have come over him since he went to the 'pen.' The last thing he
said to me, when he started for Joliet, was that he'd get even with
Motor Matt if it was the last thing he ever did. Either he's playing
some deep game, or else he's experienced a remarkable change of heart."
"It's a deep game he's playing, I guess," said Matt ruefully. "If not,
why did he try to get away?"
"Well, he gave you a lot of information, and gave it to you pretty
straight. That don't tally very well with his desire to make you
trouble. There's something about all this I can't understand."
"Brady was quite a little worked up over that automobile we heard, in
front of Hooligan's, mate," put in Ferral, with a sudden thought.
"That was the automobile that brought Graydon and me from South
Chicago," explained Harris. "Pete and Whipple ran off with it. They
used the machine to bring me to Hooligan's, and then loaded the old
woman and the girl into it, got in themselves, and tore away."
"Do you know where they went?" asked Matt.
"No. Whipple told me, just before he left the house, that I could stay
where I was and starve to death, for all he cared. And I guess that
might have happened if it hadn't been for you, Matt. All this tallies
with what Brady told you, and makes the whole affair look as though he
was playing on the square."
"But he bolted!" exclaimed Matt. "That goes to show that he had
something up his sleeve that we don't know anything about."
The puzzled officer rubbed his bruised head thoughtfully.
"Well, you've got me," he observed finally. "I can't explain it. It
will be a good scheme for you boys to get away from here as soon as you
can. If Pete and Whipple should show up and lay hands on the Hawk----"
"How can they do that if they went off in the automobile?"
"That's right, too. I'm reasoning like a crazy man, which shows how
badly rattled this thing has made me. Suppose you go back to those two
trees near the quarry and wait there for me? They say that lightning
never strikes twice in the same place, so probably the Hawk will be
safer there than anywhere else. While you're there you might keep an
eye out for Graydon. I'm going to call on the police authorities here
and get men out hunting for Brady. No matter what his game is, he has
got to be located. And that automobile has got to be recovered. Graydon
and I borrowed it, and I'd hate to have to put up three thousand for it
in case it's wrecked or got away with for good. You might go along with
me, Carl. I may have use for you."
At such a time the Dutch boy would rather have stayed with Matt and
Ferral. However, a word from Matt decided him, and he and the officer
hurried off together.
The other two boys, very much disheartened over the way events had
fallen out at Hooligan's, unmoored the Hawk and started back toward the
quarry. Well beyond the edge of town, Ferral, who was on the lookout in
the forward part of the car, saw something to which he called Matt's
attention.
The object was a light, almost directly underneath them, waving back
and forth as though to attract their attention.
"Hello, down there!" called Matt. "Who are you?"
"Graydon," came the answer. "Is that you, King?"
"Yes."
"Well, come down and take me aboard. I've had a deuce of a time.
There's a whole lot been going on that's got me queered."
"He's not the only one that's queered," muttered Ferral as Matt turned
the nose of the Hawk earthward.
"Watch sharp, Dick," said Matt. "If there's more than one man there,
tell me before it's too late for us to get away. I'm looking for
trouble everywhere to-night."