[Illustration: Young Dill had seized Jupe by the back of the neck and
dragged him, half drowned, to the shore.--_Page 98_]
THE BOY INVENTORS’
ELECTRIC
HYDROAEROPLANE
BY
RICHARD BONNER
AUTHOR OF “THE BOY INVENTORS’ WIRELESS TRIUMPH,” “THE BOY
INVENTORS AND THE VANISHING GUN,” “THE BOY INVENTORS’
DIVING TORPEDO BOAT,” “THE BOY INVENTORS’
FLYING SHIP,” ETC., ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY_
_CHARLES L. WRENN_
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1914,
BY
HURST & COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A NEW FRIEND MADE 5
II. AN INVENTION DESCRIBED 15
III. AN IMPORTANT DECISION 23
IV. NED TO THE RESCUE 33
V. THE UNLUCKY STORY 43
VI. HIS ENEMIES ON THE TRAIL 54
VII. NED MAKES AN ENEMY 62
VIII. THE PLANS ACCEPTED 71
IX. THE ARRIVAL OF TROUBLE 82
X. HEINY PUMPERNICK DILL 91
XI. THE CONVERTIBLE SAUSAGE MACHINE 98
XII. HANK AND MILES MEET THEIR MATCH 106
XIII. READY FOR FLIGHT 113
XIV. HEINY OVERHEARS THE PLOT 124
XV. THE BURGLAR TRAP 132
XVI. THE LOST LEVER 150
XVII. OFF AT LAST! 161
XVIII. NED’S TERRIBLE PERIL 169
XIX. THE DISGRUNTLED CRONIES 179
XX. TOM TO THE RESCUE 187
XXI. SALUTING A STEAMER 194
XXII. AN OLD FRIEND 202
XXIII. THE LOST PLANS 211
XXIV. A BAFFLING ROBBERY 220
XXV. OFF TO THE FAIR 227
XXVI. AN UNLUCKY MISHAP 237
XXVII. A DASH FOR LIBERTY 248
XXVIII. A DIRIGIBLE IN DANGER 258
XXIX. A DARING RESCUE 269
XXX. A STRANGE MEETING 277
XXXI. NED COMES INTO HIS OWN 283
The Boy Inventors’ Electric Hydroaeroplane.
CHAPTER I.
A NEW FRIEND MADE.
“Are either Mr. Chadwick or Mr. Jesson about?”
“Humph!” and the gangling, rather disagreeable-looking youth who had
answered the summons to the door of the Boy Inventors’ workshop, gave a
supercilious look over the dusty and worn, although carefully mended,
clothes of the dark-eyed, dark-haired, slender youth who confronted him.
“What do you want to know that for, anyhow?” and upon the personal
pronoun he placed a contemptuous emphasis.
“That is a question to which I can only reply when I can see either
Jack Chadwick or Tom Jesson personally. My name is Ned Nevins,--not
that either of them knows me,--but will you be so kind as to find out
if they’ll see me?”
“If you can’t tell me your business, you can’t see them. State what you
want to me. If it’s money----”
“It is not!”
The dark-eyed young visitor’s eyes held a warning flash which the other
lad, who was half a head taller and far stouter of build than Ned
Nevins, affected not to notice.
“Well, you can’t speak to them.” This with an air of finality.
“But you don’t understand----”
“I do, perfectly. They are both far too busy to bother with any
inquisitive kind of tramp that happens along.”
“Then you won’t let them know I would like to see them?”
The other’s voice rose angrily.
“I said ‘No’ once. N-O-_no_! Isn’t that enough?”
“Quite enough.”
Ned Nevins turned away. As he did so, the other lad, an employee of
the Boy Inventors, and a former school chum, noticed that he had under
his arm a box which he appeared to handle with unusual care. But Sam
Hinkley noted also Ned’s dejected and downcast air. He decided to
humiliate him still further.
“Get a move on--you. Skip!”
Ned hastened his pace. He felt too disappointed and tired to retort
to the bully as he should have done. Sam Hinkley interpreted this
as cowardice on Ned’s part, and being a natural bully he decided to
improve the occasion according to his own delight. He came up behind
Ned and gave the slightly-built lad a strong shove.
Ned faced ’round, and his pale face flushed an angry crimson.
“Don’t do that again, please!”
Young Hinkley’s rejoinder was to make a rush at him. He extended both
his hands to shove the visitor, whom he had found so unwelcome, off the
premises. But the next instant he met with a setback. Still holding his
precious box under one arm, Ned’s fingers closed on the bully’s wrists.
They shut down with a grip like steel handcuffs.
“Ow! Ouch! Leggo my hands,” roared Sam at the top of his voice.
“From what I’ve heard of Jack Chadwick and Tom Jesson I don’t believe
they would tolerate for an instant the way you have behaved toward me,”
was the firm reply. “March!”
“Where are we going?” inquired Sam, writhing painfully under the young
stranger’s powerful grip, unable to do anything, try as he would to
shake it off.
“Straight into that workshop. From what I can hear, I believe we will
find those whom I wish to see inside.”
Sam looked very uncomfortable. He was the son of fairly well-to-do
parents in the little town of Nestorville, on the outskirts of which
Mr. Chadwick’s home was situated. Jack and Tom had taken him on because
he was a youth who had always shown mechanical ability and had pleaded
persistently for a chance to work in the big experimental shop at High
Towers.
But a fair trial of Sam Hinkley had not resulted in his rising in favor
with his young employers. He had been detected in several mean acts.
Besides, they felt he was hardly a lad to be trusted with the important
secrets of the workshop, in which most of the inventions of the boys
and their father and uncle were worked out. So that had Sam but known
it, he was by no means so important a factor at High Towers as he
imagined.
“Lemmo go and I’ll take you in,” howled Sam.
“Very well. You might have done so in the first place.”
But no sooner were Sam’s hands released than he aimed a savage blow at
young Nevins.
“I’ll trim you for this, you--you scarecrow, you!” he bawled out. “I’ll
fix you. I’ll----”
“Here, here! What’s all the trouble about?”
The question was asked by a tall, well-built youth with curly dark hair
and sparkling, intelligent eyes, who had just appeared at the door of
the workshop.
“I--I wanted to find Mr. Chadwick, Jr.,” began the newcomer, while Sam
looked abashed.
“Sure you weren’t looking for trouble?” asked Jack, but a twinkle in
his eyes belied the implied reproach in the question. He knew Sam
Hinkley from the soles of his shoes up. Besides, he had witnessed the
last part of the recent scene and realized how the land lay.
“Go back on your job,” he ordered Sam brusquely, “those bolts must be
ready by noon at the latest.”
“Bu-bu-but----” began Sam, and then, reading what he saw in Jack’s eye
aright, he obeyed, but not without a backward glance at Ned Nevins.
“Why--why, you are Jack--I mean Mister----”
“That’s all right,” was the smiling response, “I am Jack Chadwick. What
did you wish to see me about?”
“Principally about getting a job. I----”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing here for you,” was the reply, as Jack
glanced with interest at the intelligent face that gazed so eagerly
into his own, and then, as he saw the travel-stained lad’s countenance
fall he added, “You see this is an experimental shop mainly, and----”
“I know. I’ve heard all about your inventions, the Sky-ship and the
diving Torpedo Boat and so on. I love mechanics and I’m sure I could
make good if you’d give me a chance.”
“What is your name?”
“Nevins is my name, sir.”
“Ever had any experience along such lines?”
“Yes, sir, my uncle was an inventor. He was poor and worked in a
machine-shop, but when he was at home he and I used to spend all our
time in a workshop he had fitted up. You see my folks died a long time
ago and I was brought up in my uncle’s home. He said that some day
I’d be famous if I worked hard and that I had a natural ability for
mechanics and----”
Ned Nevins stopped short, flushed over what he felt had been a
conceited speech. But Jack glanced at him encouragingly. The young
inventor was quick to read character. He began to take an interest in
this ragged visitor, who had dropped down out of the skies, so to speak.
“But you are not living with your uncle now, Nevins?”
“Oh, no. He was killed a month or more ago in an accident in the
mills. My aunt didn’t want me ’round the house; no more did my cousin.
So I packed up what I had; it wasn’t much,” with a rueful smile,
“and--and----”
“Set out to seek your fortune. So far, if you don’t mind my saying it,
you don’t appear to have succeeded very well. And so you want a job.
How have you been making your way?”
“Doing odd jobs for farmers and so on. I’m clever at repairing
automobile machinery, and I earned a little that way. You see, my
object was to make my way here, otherwise I might have got two or three
jobs in garages or machine shops.”
“Why were you so anxious to come here?” demanded Jack, beginning to
feel an interest in this persistent youngster.
“Because of a strange legacy my uncle left me.”
“That’s an odd reason.”
“I know it; but may I explain?”
“Surely. Go ahead.”
“Well, it was a legacy that he said would bring me fame and fortune
some day. It may have been only an inventor’s dream. My poor uncle had
many such, or it may not be all that he thought of it. There were many
reasons why I couldn’t consult any one in my own town about it, and as
I’d read of you and felt I could trust you and your advice, I sought
you out. But if the invention, for that’s what the legacy was, is worth
anything or not, I want a job.”
“Come on inside, Nevins. You seem to have the right stuff in you. We’ll
have a talk.”
And with a wide-eyed youth behind him, Jack led the way into the
workshop. Sam Hinkley viewed his young employer and the latter’s
companion with marked disfavor from his work bench.
“Wormed your way into the place already, have you?” he muttered. “I’ll
keep my eye on you, young fellow, and don’t you forget it.”