THE DISGRUNTLED CRONIES.
To say that the departure of the Electric Monarch from High Towers had
caused a sensation in Nestorville would be putting it mildly. The town
simply went wild.
School was dismissed, business came to a standstill, and the streets
were thronged from end to end with excited townspeople.
“What’s the trouble?” demanded Hank Nevins, as the waitress dropped
the plate of ham and eggs she was about to bring him and his worthy
companion, Miles Sharkey, and regardless of the crash and the spatter,
dashed into the street.
“Hark, what’s that they’re calling out?” cried Hank suddenly.
“Listen!”
Miles put down his knife and fork which he had grasped expectantly and
pricked up his ears. In another minute the cry,--which had grown to a
roar,--came to their ears with the distinctness of a thunder clap and
with much the same effect.
“Airship!--Airship!”
The cry reverberated through the village like a call to arms. Men
shouted and women screamed while small boys went charging up and down
with their heads in the air regardless of whom they bumped into.
“Great Juniper!” gasped out Hank, spilling his coffee in his agitation,
“do you suppose----?”
“I don’t suppose anything. Let’s make sure,” cried Miles.
Hatless they rushed into the street but nobody paid any attention
to their agitation. Everybody was equally excited. It was indeed a
thrilling sight. Far above the heads of the gaping crowd an immense
scarlet and silver shape was skimming on wings that shimmered in the
bright sunlight.
“Hurrah!” yelled a man, and a hundred took up the cry half hysterically.
“It’s flying!” cried out an old lady, as if there was any doubt about
it.
“What is it?” asked somebody.
“It’s an airship,” was the reply.
“Wa’al, it ain’t like any I’ve ever saw,” came the response. “It looks
as big as a house. It’s got cabins on it, too.”
“Must be some more of the work of them boys up at High Towers,”
hazarded Schultz, the blacksmith, who sometimes did odd jobs for the
boys.
“Like as not it is,” agreed somebody else. “Them boys ’ull break their
necks some day, sure.”
“You mean they’ll make Nestorville famous,” spoke up Schultz in the
capacity of the boys’ champion. “They’re the brainiest kids in America
to-day.”
“Oh, they don’t amount to very much,” came a sneering voice behind the
sturdy blacksmith.
He faced round instantly. The remark had come from Hank who, with Miles
at his side, was watching the successful flight with what feelings may
be imagined.
Schultz looked angry and was not afraid to let his irritation show.
Hank began to wish he’d kept quiet.
“What was that you said, mister?” asked the blacksmith.
“I just said anybody could do that who had the time,” said Hank,
modifying his speech somewhat.
“Well, you couldn’t do it, mister; it takes _brains_ to do anything
like that. That lets you out.”
The crowd in the vicinity began to titter. Hank hated being laughed at,
and his anger made him imprudent.
“That’s a stolen idea, anyhow,” he roared out at the top of his voice.
“The plans from which that airship was made belong to me.”
“Hush! Are you crazy?” exclaimed Miles, jerking Hank’s sleeve.
“No, I’m not! They do belong to me. That craft was designed by my
father, Jeptha Nevins, and I can prove it, what’s more.”
“If that’s so, why didn’t you build one yourself?” demanded Schultz.
“I didn’t have time to before thieves stole the plans. I’ll get even,
though. I’ll fix ’em. They won’t rob me!”
“For heaven’s sake, be quiet. Everybody’s looking at you. You’ll ruin
our plans.”
Miles Sharkey impatiently jerked at Hank’s sleeve. He would have liked
to put an emphatic hand over his noisy companion’s mouth. But Hank at
last saw reason. As the Electric Monarch soared off into the distance,
melting into the sky like a vanishing bird, he consented to allow Miles
to lead him away.
They had not gone very far when round a corner came Sam Hinkley. He was
out of breath and much excited.
“Did you see it?” he cried.
“See it? Do you think we are blind?” roared Hank. “What kind of
bungling is this? Didn’t you get the lever? How did they come to start?”
“Just what I’d like to know,” said Sam with equal heat. “I did my part
of the work all right. I detached the lever and hid it in an old well.
They must have had another one some place and put it on at the last
moment.”
“I guess that’s it,” said Miles pacifically, but Hank refused to calm
down. It galled his bitter nature to the quick to see the Electric
Monarch in successful flight when he had hoped and schemed for a
failure.
“I wonder what’s become of the Dutchman,” he snarled. “He’s ten times
brighter than you are, Hinkley,” which, as we know, was perfectly
correct, though not in just the way Hank meant it.
“How do I know where your Dutchman is,” growled Sam, “I tell you I’m
through with you. I risked a lot to steal that lever and this is all
the thanks I get for it. Gimme my money.”
Hank affected great surprise. So did Miles. They both stared at Sam as
if they thought he had suddenly taken leave of his senses.
“Money? What money?” exclaimed Miles.
“Why, the money for crippling the machine.”
A cunning smile crept over Miles’s face.
“Yes, the money for crippling the machine!” he sneered, “but you see,
my young friend, you didn’t do any such thing. In fact, for all we
know, you never went near it.”
“So you’re going to cheat me out of it, eh?” roared Sam. “But you
won’t. I’ll see the police, I’ll----”
But he stopped short as Miles burst into a roar of ironical laughter.
“See the police and tell them you didn’t get money for doing some
crooked work! You’re considerable of a fool, Sam Hinkley, but I guess
you aren’t fool enough for that.”
As this was so beyond doubt, Sam had to content himself with slinking
off, muttering threats about “getting even” which the two conspirators
did not much trouble themselves about. In fact they were beginning to
worry about young Dill. It was past the hour when he had said he would
meet them, and they began to feel uneasy.
It was as well for their peace of mind that they did not know the
true state of affairs, otherwise they would have suffered still more
perturbation of spirit.