CHAPTER XVI

THE AIRSHIP GONE

Stopping in the early dawn at a good-sized city, the wounded from the

Express were taken to a hospital for treatment. Though Mrs. Montrose

was not seriously hurt her husband decided that she also had better

stop off, instead of making the trip to Denver. Accordingly, after

having bidden the boys good-bye, giving them his address in the Western

city, and telling them he expected to see them there, Mr. Montrose got

off the train.

“And I’m much obliged to you, too,” said little Gladys. “So Annabell

would be, if she could talk, and I guess she doesn’t mind her leg being

off--that is, not very much, for she’s been asleep most of the time,

and when you sleep you don’t feel any pain.”

“I guess that’s right,” agreed Jerry with a smile.

The Express went on, but it was much behind time, and had to proceed

necessarily slower each hour, on account of the wreck, for all the

railroad schedules were set awry.

“But we’ll get there some time,” observed Jerry, though naturally he

was nervous about what Noddy might do to get to Snake Island ahead of

them.

Noon saw our friends still quite a distance away from Denver, and they

fretted over the delay. They ate dinner at a way-station lunch counter,

and, though Professor Snodgrass looked eagerly among the bananas for

more rare specimens, he found none.

“But if I get my two-tailed toad I’ll not want anything else,” he said,

as they got underway again.

It was late that afternoon, when they reached Denver, and went at once

to a hotel, for a good bath and a change of clothing, for they had

brought their big valises with them on the train.

“And now for a good hot meal!” cried Bob, as, much refreshed the chums

sat together in the hotel parlor. “Railroad lunches are all right, even

when a pretty girl serves ’em, but I want to sit down to a table where

I can eat as long as I like.”

“And as much,” added Jerry. “But I guess we’ll have to postpone our

eating for a while, Bob,” and the tall lad winked at Ned.

“Postpone it!” cried the fat youth. “Why?”

“Well, we ought to go out to Buffalo Park, and look after our

airship,” went on Jerry. The _Comet_, so Mr. Glassford had written

them, was left at one of the hangars in Buffalo Park, where the aero

meet had been held. The craft had not been taken apart for shipment

back east, but had, in accordance with the instructions of the motor

boys, been kept in readiness for a quick flight. A watchman, named

Boise, had been left in charge, and Mr. Glassford had told him that

Jerry and his chums would soon be on hand to claim their property.

“Go to Buffalo Park!” exclaimed Bob blankly. “Why, that’s about seven

miles out. It will take more than two hours to go there and back, and

look at the _Comet_. That will make supper awfully late. I guess she’s

all right. Can’t we wait until to-morrow, Jerry?”

“Well, that’s what I was going to propose,” remarked the tall lad,

after what to Bob was a painful pause. “I guess we’re all too tired to

chase out there, and our airship will probably be all right. I tried to

see if I could get Boise on the ’phone, but I couldn’t.”

“We’ll go out there the first thing in the morning!” decided Bob, with

a look of relief on his face. “Now, I’m going to the dining-room, and

look at the bill of fare.”

“Don’t eat it,” advised Ned with a laugh.

“No danger. I’m not going to spoil my appetite,” declared the fat one.

“I never had a better.”

“Then don’t say anything about it, or they’ll raise the rate on us,”

cautioned Jerry. “Jove, but I’m tired!” and he stretched out in an easy

chair, while Ned took another, and Bob strolled toward the dining-room,

to find out how soon supper would be served.

“And we didn’t hear anything of Noddy,” remarked Ned, after a pause.

“Nor see anything,” added Jerry. “I inquired at the station, and they

told me the local, which Noddy and the others must have taken, got in

early this morning. He was several hours ahead of us if he was on that,

and he probably was.”

Bright and early the next morning they were on their way to Buffalo

Park. The place of the aero meet was deserted, and the hangars looked

gloomy in the big expanse of open field.

“Wonder which is ours?” ventured Ned, as he and his chums alighted from

the trolley car.

“There it is,” remarked Jerry, pointing to a big shed with the word

“COMET” in large letters across the big doors.

“And now for a good flight!” cried Bob. “No more train wrecks for

ours. Off for Snake Island and the radium!”

“And my two-tailed toad,” added Professor Snodgrass, looking carefully

on the ground as he advanced for a possible rare specimen.

The boys found the hangar, where their craft was housed, closed and

locked. They pounded on the doors, and Jerry remarked:

“This is odd.”

“Why?” asked Bob.

“Because Mr. Glassford said he had instructed Boise to just live out

here until we came--not to go away at all. And yet he isn’t here.”

“Maybe he didn’t expect us, and has gone to town for supplies,”

suggested Ned.

“In that case, as Mr. Glassford wrote, he was to have a friend on

guard. Yet no one seems to be here.”

“Maybe he’s asleep,” ventured Bob.

Jerry kicked on the door, with enough force to awaken the soundest

sleeper, but there was no response from inside. Suddenly, from the

fields back of the boys came a hail.

“Hey! What are you fellows doing at that hangar? Get away!”

A man came running toward them. He seemed quite angry.

“Get away!” he ordered.

“Who are you?” asked Jerry, a sudden fear coming into his heart.

“I’m the watchman--Boise is my name--but I’m on my way to Denver now.”

“Why?” faltered Ned.

“Because there’s nothing more here to watch. My job is ended. But who

are you fellows, anyhow; and what do you want here?”

“We’re the owners of the _Comet_,” replied Jerry, “and we came for our

airship, that Mr. Glassford left with you.”

“The--the owners!” gasped Mr. Boise. “Are you the motor boys?”

“We are!” cried Ned. “Where is the _Comet_?”

“It’s gone--gone!” faltered the watchman.

“Gone; where?” Jerry wanted to know.

“I delivered it to a young fellow named Noddy Nixon last night,”

answered Mr. Boise. “He had a letter from Mr. Glassford, and one

signed Jerry Hopkins, saying he had been sent to bring the airship to

you--said you couldn’t get this far, as there was a wreck.”

“Noddy--Nixon--has--our--airship!” gasped Jerry. “Fellows, he got ahead

of us after all!”

The Motor Boys After a Fortune; or, The Hut on Snake Island · 第 16 / 30 章