They stood in rather close formation, Bob and the Mounty facing each
other, Jim so that he could observe anything approaching by either of
two other points of the compass, and Bradshaw scowling fiercely and
thumbing young Caldwell's book.
"You've got to explain this," he thundered.
"It's nothing but school reports, tests and names of classmates. You
needn't go cribbing it," Bob growled angrily.
"What you American kids doing here anyway? Got a permit a fly into
Canada?" Bradshaw demanded, but his eyes were narrowed as he focused
them on the surrounding brush, his gun in hand. Suddenly he whipped it
up almost to Bob's ear, and snapped:
"Come out of that you fellow."
Then followed a snarling curse, a smashing through underbrush, and the
sharp crack of the automatic. Like a panther Bradshaw leaped forward and
in an instant he dragged forth one of the pair who had come to head him
off, but galloping hoofs and wild oaths proclaimed the departure of the
other three. A moment later there wasn't a sound of them. The Mounty
snapped handcuffs on his captive, trussed his feet, and shoved him along
out of earshot.
"Pat," he called and the big horse trotted to his side. "Don't let him
move." Pat promptly stepped over the man, who howled in terror, and
lightly planted one hoof on his coat, pinning him securely.
"Some horse," Bob whispered with admiration.
"Now, you fellows give an account of yourselves. How did you happen to
come down right here just as those lads were getting funny?" He spoke so
sharply that the younger boy was sure the man believed they were a party
to the hold-up, but Jim merely scowled back.
"Aw you ground hog. Our motor stalled up there and I couldn't get it
going until we almost smashed. Can you understand that?"
"It's clear enough. What are you smuggling in that car?" He gave a
little nod and strode with a determined tread to Her Highness.
"Not a blamed thing that doesn't belong to us," Jim shouted as he
followed close.
"No?" Bradshaw leaned over as if to make a thorough inspection. "What's
in the basket. A book of bed-time stories?"
"Grub," Jim answered sharply, then added. "And some apples for Pat."
"Thanks," the Mounty grinned. "Now, tell me, is that ravine the one that
comes along like a letter S, deep and steep on both sides almost all the
way. It ends in a rock cliff about a half mile below here?"
"That's it," Bob whispered and he sighed with relief as he realized that
the officer had been playing the game.
"Great guns, we've had that under inspection, but we'll take another
look into it. Do you know that out-post right on the line?"
"Sure. Has the two flags."
"That's it. My head chief is there now. I wish you'd fly over it and
drop him a message--"
"We can give it to him," Jim offered.
"Don't want you to come down. We've been bluffing that I don't know you
and it may help. Anyway it won't get you into trouble if any of the gang
should see you again. I'll have to get this fellow locked up and make a
report. I'm no end obliged to you. If you hadn't been on the look-out I
might have had a nasty fight all by my lonesome. Wish you'd get away as
soon as you can and drop this to my chief. You did me a mighty good turn
and the department will appreciate your further service. Weight it down
with these rocks, if you haven't anything better. I picked them up when
I was cuffing our friend over there."
"Glad to. We'll keep a look-out from the air and you watch us. If we see
any more surprise parties coming your way, we'll do a tail spin," Jim
said softly.
"Thanks, but I fancy those fellows are willing to call it a day. Don't
know why I've been picked out to bump off, but they may be planning to
pull something in my territory during this beat. I'll be moving." He
raised his voice and handed the note to Jim, then began in a louder
tone. "Sure, I suppose your father is the President of the United
States, but you beat it back over your own line and if you don't you'll
wish he had the power of triplets."
"Aw," growled Jim.
"Smoke bomb," Bob added with relish as the throttle was opened and Her
Highness got under way.
Further pleasantries were cut off by the thundering of the motors but
the younger boy leaned over ostensibly to make faces at the officer,
while his eyes searched the vicinity. He saw Pat still penning the
captive to the earth, but not a glimpse did he get of another human
being in the neighborhood. The plane zoomed a thousand feet, leveled off
and headed for the Post the boys had seen a few days before. Jim had the
stones, which he wrapped with the paper in his handkerchief, and then he
knotted the note inside.
"All quiet on the front?" he asked his step-brother.
"As a mid-summer night's dream," Bob replied, then added. "I see the
post, Buddy." Jim nodded for he too had picked it out and already Her
Highness was gliding to a lower level. Down she rode swiftly, until she
was only five hundred feet in the air, then they noticed the man-on-post
come out, and level his glasses upon them. Jim raised his arm, and at
the right moment he dropped the message over the side, and brought the
plane about in a half circle, while they both watched the thing, the
corners of the handkerchief standing out like a pair of rabbit's ears as
it tumbled to the earth.
"He's got it," Bob shouted gleefully. A second man had come out of the
hut and the boys saw them inspecting the present they had received so
unexpectedly. The first man waved his hand and ducked into the house,
and the boys, quite satisfied with the morning's work, grinned at each
other.
"I'm empty, Buddy," Jim announced as they sailed off. The boys took a
route almost straight west, and in half an hour they were above a rugged
region which the map informed them was in the State of New York. They
selected a plateau with little timber and some kind of stream. They
glided to the landing place, and presently Her Highness was standing
like a great wild bird, poised on the hill. The boys hopped out of the
cockpit, looked about to make sure that there were no warnings posted to
keep off the premises, then out came the basket.
"Want to build a fire and toast some of these marshmallows?" Bob
proposed as he glanced at the food.
"Sure thing," Jim agreed readily. He got busy and cleared a rock while
Bob gathered some bits of wood. In a few minutes they had the blaze
crackling cheerily, and then they prepared to enjoy themselves
thoroughly. Mrs. Fenton had put in almost a loaf of home made bread and
butter sandwiches, a glass of plum jelly, six deviled eggs, slices of
roast ham, olives, pickles, ginger cookies, milk, chocolate cake and
candy.
"If we eat all this Her Highness will never be able to take us up," Bob
grinned broadly as the things were set forth on the huge napkin.
"Intend to eat sparingly?" Jim inquired.
"Not so that you could notice it," Bob assured him. "When I come to
think of it, I don't know where you're going to get any. I am hollow in
both legs."
"I know what I'm going to do," Jim retorted promptly. "Pitch right in
and if you get more than a toe full, you'll be lucky." With that threat,
they fell to and ate with keen appetites, and when Bob finally stretched
himself out on the rock with a huge sigh of contentment, the food was
almost all gone.
"Gosh, I feel great."
"I'm right with you, Buddy," Jim answered. He lay on his tummy and for a
few minutes they watched the tiny coil of smoke that rose in a wavering
line from the fire, which was burning low. Austin did manage to throw on
a few more sticks, that caught quickly, and crackled at a lively rate.
"Wonder what Bradshaw and his gang have been doing while we tanked up,"
Bob remarked. "Wish we could have been in on the scrap."
"Wish we could, but we might have been in the way. If we had hung around
that ravine waiting for the fireworks, the chaps who were parked there
might have been warned and that would have spoiled the show," Jim
replied.
"Oh sure. By the noise they made, those chaps getting away may not have
heard our little play. Reckon, they beat it to their headquarters to
tell the other fellows. Seeing us again would have queered the party for
the Mounties," Bob agreed.
"Yes, a plane is sort of conspicuous. Bet that message told the Chief,
whoever he is, to surround the ravine and get the outlaws while the
getting promised to be good."
"I saw one of those fellows pull out his gun. Gosh, they would have got
Bradshaw if he had come riding right into their arms."
"It would have been some scrap, you bet. Bradshaw's no slouch."
"Not a bit. Wish he could come and see us at Cap Rock. Say, with Pat to
help him, he's better off than if he were twins, or two policemen," Bob
laughed as he thought of the efficient pony. "Some horse. Glad he's got
a good master."
"You bet." They rested comfortably, and at last Jim broke the silence
again. "Gosh, Buddy, remember that story of the brothers who watched the
smoke go up the chimney?"
"Surely. I was just thinking about them. The Montgolfier boys. They were
watching the fire and the smoke go up the chimney, and that set their
brains to working and they wondered why the smoke went up. Queer isn't
it when you think that a little thing like that happening around one
hundred and thirty years ago, should develop into air travel!" Bob
glanced toward Her Highness affectionately.
"She doesn't look much like the paper bags they made their first
experiments with, does she?"
"I'll say she doesn't, nor the balloons that came a few years later.
Gosh, I'm glad we don't live at a time when people were so ignorant that
they thought everything new was a devil of some kind," Bob replied.
"We'd be in a nice fix if we got shot at or stabbed with pitch forks
every time we came down. But, even at that, Jim, there are places in the
world where the people are mighty savage. Dad says in some of the South
American provinces they've never been able to conquer all the tribes, or
civilize them. They are almost the same as they were when Columbus
landed, and will fill a chauffeur full of poison arrows if they see a
car driving through their land."
"Great horns. I'd like to go sailing over some of those places some
time. Lindbergh must have seen some mighty interesting places when he
went cutting air-paths over Mexico."
"He sure did. And isn't he the grand lad for keeping his eyes open and
his wits about him?" Keen admiration for the Lone Eagle silenced them
for a while, then Bob reached out and took a triangle of chocolate cake.
"I'll divvy up."
"You needn't." Jim made himself another sandwich. "Don't know where my
lunch is disappearing, but I find I have a little vacant space which
needs fueling." At that they both sat up, made a second attack on the
food, but finally were compelled to stop.
"We may as well be soaring along," Jim proposed.
"Let's go over Canada and see if we can see any of the smoke from the
ravine," Bob suggested eagerly.
"All right. You want to drive?"
"You bet, and you watch for the scrap." They packed the remains of the
food in the basket, stored it into the cock-pit, poured water over the
embers of their fire and cleaned the spot with a piece of dry pine
brush, then gave Her Highness an inspection.
"Great old bird," Bob chuckled when they were sure that all was well.
"She did a good job this morning." He took his place and Jim occupied
the passenger seat prepared to be the observer.
A moment later Her Highness ran along the plateau, lifted her nose into
the air, then climbed for all she was worth while Jim examined the earth
beneath them. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the roar of the
engine was a startling contrast to the calm forest they had just left.
Caldwell watched his controls as they raced at three thousand foot
height. Jim thoroughly enjoyed the inspection and occasionally made a
note of something especially interesting, and often called his buddy's
attention to the rolling globe. In less than an hour they were over the
post where they had dropped the message, but if anyone was inside the
shack, they did not come out to examine them. Then Bob turned sharply
north, and soon they were about ten miles beyond the edge of the ravine
and the place where they had stopped the Mounty.
"Slack up a bit and go south," Jim suggested through the speaking tube.
"All right," Bob agreed. He kicked the rudder, Her Highness circled,
proceeded at a slower speed, and presently the spot in which they were
so keenly interested, jumped into the lenses. At first glance it was as
deserted as before, then Jim saw a coil of smoke rolling up into the
wind. Concentrating with all his attention, he saw that some sort of
shack was on fire, and just below the burning building, was a blackened
spot that had been swept bare by the blaze. A couple of puffs snapped
out from down the ravine, and a volley of answering shots spat viciously
from the other end.
"The fight's still on, Buddy," Jim bellowed, and Bob looked over the
side. They were getting close enough now so that they could see the
battle fairly clearly, and they watched with tense interest. At one end
they made out the Canadian policemen closing in on the desperadoes, who
seemed to be sliding back behind a screen of brush they had dug up, and
just a few feet from them the wall of the ravine rose sharply cutting
off their escape.
"They'll have them in a minute," Bob exclaimed excitedly. "Suppose they
can climb up that wall?"
"It looks pretty jagged to me, like tiers of boulders, but, zowee--if
they do get up, there's a line of blue-coats waiting for them," Jim
announced, and he would have danced up and down with joy, if he hadn't
been strapped securely to the seat. Bob paid strict attention to his
business, then, as the attack was started, he decided it would be no
harm to circle about and see the finish of the fight. He knew that his
brother would be in accord with the plan, so he proceeded to carry it
out. He zoomed higher, kicked the rudder, raced the engine and was soon
pounding at three thousand feet, where he leveled off for the ring, and
started to fly so they had a grand view of the drama below. Jim kept his
glasses fixed on the gully, and as the position of Her Highness was
changed, he had a superior view of both sides of the maneuvers. Suddenly
the wall that cut off the criminals was directly in front of his gaze
and he began to wonder about it. It seemed strange that men who were
probably accustomed to protecting themselves and taking every
precaution, should select a place where they could be so easily trapped.
"The Mounties must have given them a special surprise," he remarked to
himself, but just the same, that did not seem entirely possible. It
seemed to the boy that there must be a gang who used the ravine as a
hangout, a means of slipping into the United States or Canada whenever
they wanted to, and they would need quite a force of men in order to
keep themselves well posted on the habits of the men who patrolled the
location. Then it occurred to Jim that the outlaws might not have used
the place long and had not had time to prepare hasty exits. But that
idea as it flashed through his brain did not seem at all plausible.
The boy remembered that Bradshaw had said the "gang" had been
particularly successful in putting over every one of their schemes. That
meant they were taking no chances, and surely they would none of them
let themselves be backed against a high cliff where they were sure to be
picked off with the rifles of the Mounties if they tried to scale it,
and run into the arms of other officers if they did manage to reach the
top. He studied the group of men firing furiously from behind the brush
pile and rocks, then he wondered why the men on top did not fire down at
them. That was soon answered, for he saw that the edge was steep and
soft, and even as he watched, he saw a man slip. His companion grabbed
him by the arm and saved him from going over into the ravine. The slip
dislodged a quantity of gravel and brush which slid down behind the
desperadoes. Two of them instantly whirled about ready to fire in case
they were attacked from the rear. There still remained a few rods to be
traversed before they would reach the cliff, and another man glanced up
at the plane and shook his fist.
"Shouldn't like to kill any of them, but I wish we had a few tear bombs,
or some little thing like that to put them out of business," Jim
lamented. He couldn't help feeling that although it looked as if the
officers would soon get their men, they must have some cards still up
their sleeves.
"Say, Buddy," Bob bellowed, "There comes Pedro's covered wagon." He
pointed, and although Jim could not catch the words, he followed the
direction and had no difficulty in picking out the highly colored truck
which was moving forward slowly along a road that looked as if it was
used very little. It was about a mile from the ravine in an especially
isolated section and Jim's eyes swept the vicinity as he thought that
the huckster must be nearing his own home, but there wasn't a house for
miles, and as near as the boy could make out, the road meandered along
and finally slowed down near a dilapidated old rail fence which might
mark an ancient boundary, or surround a pasture. Rocks and brush were
piled above it, and as the boy looked, he saw that the truck stopped.
"Perhaps the old guy has heard the shooting," he thought, but if Pedro
did, he gave no sign of either assisting or investigating. Instead he
dismounted with agility, with some sort of huge bundle in his arms, and
in a moment he was standing on the rim of the wagon bed. It took but a
moment for Jim to realize that the man was throwing a canvas of dark
green material over the brilliant truck.
"Bob, look," he bellowed. His step-brother, who had been giving his
attention to the plane, glanced over and ahead, and his lips pursed up
in a long drawn out whistle. By this time, which was really only a few
minutes, Her Highness had passed over the end of the ravine, so Bob
zoomed again, banked, and came about. He didn't propose to miss
anything. In that brief interval, the red and blue truck had been turned
into a green one so like the forest surrounding it that it could hardly
be picked out. Jim saw Pedro take his seat again, then move forward a
way until he reached a wide spot where he turned around.
"That old boy isn't all he pretends to be," the boy muttered. He would
have liked to watch the "old boy" but he wanted to know what was going
on in the ravine. He saw that the bandits were stretched in rows, only
two men in the one nearest the blazing shack, while the Mounties were
making their way forward cautiously. As Jim watched, he saw the rear row
of outlaws slide swiftly back, then one of them disappeared under a
rock. Another followed quickly, while the men in front continued to fire
rapidly, as if to cover the fact that there were fewer men at the guns.
"Great Caesar's ghost. They've got an outlet there and are going to get
away under the ground," Jim shouted, but he couldn't make Bob hear and
he didn't want to take his eyes off the event even for an instant.
Quickly he swept the country-side for a cave entrance, and then, in a
moment, he picked it up. A man emerged stealthily, raced through the
woods, and came out close to Pedro and his camouflaged truck.
"By gum and thunder," Jim exploded.