JUST BELOW THE CLOUDS
"Good luck to you, boys!" came floating up from the ground, above the
buzzing of the busy little Kinkaid motor; and looking down, they could
see Larry, Elephant, yes, and the old veteran also, carrying on
excitedly, as they swung their hats around.
"Who're you waving your handkerchief to, Frank; does your best girl keep
her eyes on the skies all the day long, looking to see you come around?"
demanded Andy, humorously.
"Yes, that's my best girl, as sure as you live; and she's standing there
on the porch of our house right now, waving to me--Aunt Laura, who
thinks just as much of me as any mother could. But Andy, neither of us
said anything when Larry told about that hobo aviator named Casper Blue;
yet he answered the description the bank watchman gave of the smaller
man who had a stiff arm."
"Oh, I noticed that, all right, even if I didn't look your way,"
returned Andy, promptly. "It sort of clinched the nail we drove through
didn't it, Frank?"
"Seems like it," the other went on to remark. "And the chances are ten
to one, we've got the story down fine right now, know who one of the
robbers was, why they wanted to steal an aeroplane to make their
get-away in, and all that. But there are a few things we don't know,
that'd throw a little more light on the affair."
"As what?" queried his cousin.
"Well, for one thing, the Chief seemed to think the thieves might have
had inside information, they seemed to know so much about things
connected with the bank, our having an aeroplane, where we lived, what
our habits were, and then about Percy's biplane in the bargain. Now,
that's something serious; if there's a man in Bloomsbury who's in league
with such rascals he'll be apt to help them out again later on if they
get away with this job; and he ought to be found out."
"Whew! looks like we've got a big job on our hands if we hope to do all
that sort of thing," commented Andy, with a whistle to indicate his
feelings.
"Nobody said we even think of trying," laughed Frank, as he stopped
mounting upward in spirals, and headed away toward the north.
It was a glorious view that they had now spread out beneath and around
them. Neither of the Bird boys ever tired of such wonderful sights; and
although by now it had become an old story, they enjoyed it as much as
ever, even if their former sensation of awe had given way to one of
familiarity.
They could see the entire outlines of beautiful Lake Sunrise, with its
many coves, and points jutting out, the water glistening in the
sunlight, as the morning breeze fanned it gently.
Why, yes, there was the little lake steamboat called the Mermaid,
passing along the northern border of the lake, on the way between the
town of Cranford, on the shore opposite Bloomsbury, and headed toward a
small lumbering camp far up the left bank, possibly to deliver supplies,
after which she would point her nose down toward the home town, which
was of more importance than any other station on Lake Sunrise.
The boys did look back, dear though the scenes around home must ever be
for them. It was characteristic of these lads that once they put their
shoulder to the wheel, or in other words, their hand to the plow, they
would not allow themselves to be discouraged by thoughts of the home
ties. That accounted for much of the success that had been their portion
in the past. They could for the time being forget that there was any
such place as home; and in this way they avoided the weakness that such
thoughts are apt to bring along in their train.
Forward their way lay, toward those forbidding wilds far to the north,
where few towns could be found, and pretty much all the country was a
vast wilderness, filled with picturesque forests, wild swamps, and
rugged hills.
It was just the country where desperate law breakers would choose as a
hiding-place, after they had committed some crime, and expected a warm
pursuit. Ordinary methods would never find them, save through a mere
chance; but when one can copy the eagle, and mount to dizzy heights,
with a pair of powerful glasses he can see almost everything that is
going on for miles and miles around, provided he has a skilled companion
along to manage the aeroplane or balloon.
And that is destined to be the greatest value of these winged messengers
in future years, since it has been proven that they are not so very
dangerous after all in the line of dropping explosives upon battleships
or fortified places.
"Somewhere up yonder, Frank, they are probably hiding, and feeling
perfectly safe from pursuit," ventured Andy, who was sweeping the marine
glasses around and examining the country ahead with more than common
interest.
"Look how Old Thunder-top stands out today!" remarked Frank, turning for
just an instant to glance upward toward the left, where the high
mountain towered, its heavily wooded sides looking as gloomy as ever,
and the white cliffs that made the summit inaccessible to human feet,
appearing almost dazzling in the glittering light of the undimmed
morning sun.
"And say, there's our old friends, the eagles that had a nest up there,
and gave me such a warm time when we first reached the top." Andy cried,
as he focused his glasses on a sweeping pair of huge birds that were
heading their way, as if meaning to investigate, and find out what
manner of rival this could be, invading their native element.
"They know too much to bother with an aeroplane by now!" declared Frank,
laughing again. "Why I'm thinking those birds have hardly grown new
feathers in place of the lot they lost that time they fought us so
savagely."
The memory appeared to amuse his cousin also, for he could be heard
laughing heartily, even above the purr of the now steadily going motor
that sent the propellers whizzing around so rapidly; for there was one
fore and aft, as is the case with all biplanes, the engine being behind
the pilot and his companion.
"Tell me if you can remember, was that other aeroplane headed straight
up the lake the last you saw it in the early morning light?" Frank
asked.
"That's right, Frank; but then I couldn't say just how long they kept
along that same course. When those hundreds of old crows came sailing
along on the wind, cawing to beat the band, and going every-which-way, I
lost sight of the biplane. After that it would have to be just guess
work."
"But we've got a good pointer to start with," insisted Frank. "They
wouldn't be so apt to head toward the south, east or west, because in
those directions there are plenty of towns and villages, and these could
report seeing a strange biplane passing over, so giving the police a
clue. No, chances are ten to one they kept right on toward the north.
And there's where we've got to do all our searching today. We can just
comb the whole district over, and anything that looks like the stolen
aeroplane is sure to catch our attention from this height, don't you
think so, Andy?"
"I reckon it will, Frank; but the only thing bothers me is that things
may have worked all right with the rascals, and by now they're away off,
so far distant that we'll never in the wide world get in touch with
them, the more the pity."
"Well, it's never been a habit of ours to own up beaten till we've done
everything under the sun to win out. And Andy, we've only started as
yet. The field is before us, you know, with a whole day's supply of gas
to push us on, if we want to keep going. So I'm not asking any favors,
and expect to do just my level best to find out where the bank robbers
have gone."
"And if we hunt around a whole lot without getting tabs on the pair,
why, we can drop down somewhere in a town, and get in touch with
Bloomsbury Headquarters. The Chief as much as promised that he'd leave
word there to put us wise to anything that had been learned by way of
the telephone, from other places. And given a clue in that way, we might
take a fresh spurt, you know."
"Just so, Andy," agreed the other, bending his head to watch how some
part of the machinery was doing its duty; for that is always the weak
link in modern aviation, nearly everything depending on the engine
fulfilling its part perfectly.
Andy continued to make use of the pair of glasses that magnified objects
in the far distance so wonderfully that a man could have been recognized
easily a mile away, and perhaps much further, if the air were real
clear.
Now and then he turned them to the right. The beautiful lake always
attracted him very much like a magnet would, whenever he had a chance to
look out over its glistening bosom.
And there was the little steamer, just as Frank had said; why, he could
even distinguish Todd Pemberton up in the pilothouse, grasping his wheel
and guiding his charge among the shoals that were charted in the
northern end of the lake as dangerous, that is, for green hands at the
tiller or wheel of a boat propelled by sails, steam or gasolene.
They were moving in a line that would carry them up along the shore, and
consequently every minute they drew nearer the small lake steamer that
was heading toward them.
Passengers could be seen on its deck, and possibly every eye was glued
just at that particular moment on the aeroplane that was buzzing go
steadily northward; perhaps it might have been the first time some of
these people had ever seen such an interesting object; but in the region
around Bloomsbury it was by now a common sight, with such enterprising
young air pilots as the Bird boys and Percy Carberry in the field almost
every decent day.
All at once Frank was heard to utter an exclamation.
"Turn your glasses straight ahead, and see what that can be fluttering
among the bushes at Norton's Point, Andy!" he called out hastily.
When the other had swung around, and covered the region spoken of, he
quickly gave the desired information.
"Somebody seems to be shaking a handkerchief or something else white,"
he observed. "And it don't look like just waving at the steamer either,
for they do it after a system, as we would signal with wigwag flags.
There, I counted seven times he did it; then comes a halt, and one, two,
three times, another halt; and once more he starts in, this time three,
four, five, and then stops. Now, what do you suppose the fellow means by
that, and who can he be waving to, Frank?"
"You'd expect it might be some one out on the lake; can you see any
small boat in sight, Andy; or any one waving back from another point?"
"Not a thing, as far as I can see," replied the boy with the marine
glasses.
"Suppose you try the steamer, then," suggested Frank, meaningly.
Immediately Andy gave an exclamation of astonishment.
"I see a signal moving, Frank, and it seems to be copying the one on
shore," he hastened to remark, excitedly.
"Where does it come from, the passengers that I saw pushing up against
the rail, and staring at us; are any of them interested, do you think?"
continued Frank, who just then could not turn his head to look, but must
depend on his chum.
"Well, no," answered Andy, "it seems to come from the pilothouse, and
must be Todd Pemberton, himself."