[Illustration: THE HUGE WINGS FLAPPED.]
THE FLYING BOYS SERIES
THE FLYING BOYS
TO THE RESCUE
BY
EDWARD S. ELLIS
Author of “Catamount Camp Series”,
“Deerfoot Series”, etc., etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
EDWIN J. PRITTIE
THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA
COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.
PRINTED IN U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. SEEKING A CLUE 9
II. A REMARKABLE LETTER 20
III. A WORKSHOP IN THE WOODS 31
IV. THE BIPLANE IN ACTION 43
V. BY AERIAL EXPRESS 55
VI. RECONNOITERING 67
VII. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR 78
VIII. THE PROFESSOR LEADS THE WAY 89
IX. MEETING AN OLD FRIEND 100
X. AUNTY HEP TAKES A RIDE 112
XI. THE CAMPERS 123
XII. BROTHER DICK 135
XIII. DISCOVERY IMPENDS 146
XIV. A NATURAL PRISON 157
XV. A DISMAL NIGHT 168
XVI. DICK IS TEMPTED 179
XVII. AN UNCEREMONIOUS ARRIVAL 190
XVIII. BUNK JOINS THE PROFESSOR 202
XIX. IN THE WORKSHOP 214
XX. A CHANGE OF QUARTERS 225
XXI. BUNK CAMPS OUT 236
XXII. FACE TO FACE AT LAST 247
XXIII. MILO MORGAN’S WATERLOO 258
XXIV. A NEW RISK 266
XXV. “I’LL DO IT!” 276
XXVI. THE END OF THE DRAGON 285
XXVII. BRAVE MEN ALOFT 295
The Flying Boys to the Rescue.
CHAPTER I.
SEEKING A CLUE
Harvey Hamilton, the young aviator, found himself in the most
distressful dilemma of his life. He and his devoted friend, the colored
youth Bohunkus Johnson, had left their homes near the New Jersey
village of Mootsport, and sailing away in the former’s aeroplane had
run into a series of adventures in eastern Pennsylvania, which have
been related in “The Flying Boys in the Sky.” It was the good fortune
of Harvey to help in the recovery of the little girl who was kidnapped
from her home in Philadelphia some weeks before. All having gone well
down to the time of her rescue, he was awaiting the return of “Bunk”
to continue their outing, when to his consternation he learned that
his dusky comrade had gone off with Professor Milo Morgan in his unique
monoplane, which bore the fantastic name “The Dragon of the Skies.”
To add to the annoyance of the situation, the couple had started on
the maddest enterprise of which a mortal has ever been guilty,--a trip
across the Atlantic Ocean to the continent of Africa. That fact of
itself would have stamped the gaunt, grizzled aviator as the veriest
lunatic outside of a hospital for the insane.
Two remembrances caused Harvey Hamilton keen regret: one was his
hasty words to Bunk, which were the indirect cause of this astounding
venture, and the other his failure to warn him of the mental weakness
of Professor Morgan. Had he done as he ought to have done, in either
instance, the lad would have been saved from the terrifying peril into
which he had rushed.
But while our young friend condemned himself without stint, it was now
too late for mere grief. The momentous question was whether he could do
anything to save Bunk, and if so, how should he go about it?
The Dragon of the Skies was not only much swifter than his biplane, but
it had a start of at least two days. If the owner had headed for the
Dark Continent, he was already well advanced upon the fateful journey.
In that event Harvey could do nothing but wait through the long days
and weeks for the news that might never come to him.
The more he strode up and down the hotel porch and thought of the
matter, the more he was puzzled. He must attempt nothing without good
counsel and the best man to give it was Simmons Pendar, the detective,
who had been the means of rescuing little Grace Hastings from the band
of kidnappers. Although inaction was torture, he stayed in Chesterton,
with his aeroplane in the primitive hangar, until Pendar, having
finished the rush of business, found time to greet him. When Harvey
asked him for a few minutes, the officer, who naturally was in high
spirits, replied in his hearty manner:
“My dear boy, you shall have all the time you want; I can never forget
the obligations under which you have placed the Hastings and me; let me
know how I can serve you.”
They seated themselves at the farther end of the porch, beyond earshot
of eavesdroppers and talked in low tones. It took Harvey only a short
time to tell his story. The detective whistled softly when he finished.
“Well, this is a peculiar situation indeed. Neither of us ever dreamed
of anything of the kind. You are asking yourself whether you can do
anything to help your friend?”
“Is it possible for me to lift a hand for him?”
“I hope so.”
“There’s mighty little comfort in those words, Mr. Pendar.”
“Would it cheer you more if I said there was no hope at all?”
“I am afraid it would not make much difference in my feelings. I cannot
remain idle, but I don’t know which way to turn or what to do.”
The detective proved his power of quick thinking and of concentrating
his faculties upon any theme that might claim them, by saying in his
positive manner:
“In the first place, I don’t believe Professor Morgan has started for
Africa.”
Harvey Hamilton almost sprang from his chair.
“Why do you say that, after what we have learned?”
“I may be wrong, but I am strongly of the opinion that while he has in
mind such a trip he isn’t prepared to try it just yet. No mistake about
it, he is a wonderful inventor. He has already done enough to make him
wealthy and famous. He courses through the air without noise; he can
go straight aloft by means of his uplifter, which enables him to hover
stationary like a bird over any spot he selects. From a remark I once
heard him make, I believe the great idea upon which he is working is
that of drawing electricity from the air and using it as motive power.
When he is able to do that--and who shall say that he will not solve
the problem very soon?--he can stay aloft indefinitely; that is, until
he uses up his supply of food and oil.”
“He has already formulated a chemical composition that will keep him
aloft for half a day.”
“Not long enough to cross the Atlantic. He is figuring on his scheme
now, and time and experiment are necessary for him to reach success.”
“He is likely to make a mistake, is he not?”
“Being human, though crazy, he will do that. But there is a method in
his madness. Having accomplished several remarkable things, he has
proved that thus far all has gone right with him. Now, my dear boy,
while he is sure he will sooner or later cross the Atlantic, he will
not start till he is ready and his machine fit. Therefore, I repeat
that days and perhaps weeks will pass before he makes the attempt of
which other aviators are still dreaming.”
“And what will he do in the meantime?”
Detective Pendar shrugged his shoulders.
“Experiment.”
“You encourage me by what you say, but from what point is he likely to
start?”
“Naturally where the width of the ocean is narrowest. He will not leave
the New Jersey or New York or New England coast, but in my judgment
will bid North America good-bye at Quebec or its neighborhood and head
directly eastward for Liverpool.”
“What is the distance between those two cities?”
“Twenty-six hundred miles. Say he can average seventy-five miles an
hour.”
The detective did a little mental figuring.
“If he can do that and has no accident, he will reach Liverpool in one
day and a half after leaving Quebec. If he can make a hundred miles an
hour--and depend upon it the aviators of the near future will surpass
that speed--he can bid Canada good-bye in the afternoon and watch the
sun set in England on the following day.”
“When at Liverpool he will still be a long way from Africa.”
“But the after trip will be mainly by land. The Channel has already
been frequently crossed by air men and when he follows suit he will be
on the continent. Then it will be a pleasing excursion southward over
France and Spain to Gibraltar, from which it is only a step to Africa.
Have you any idea in what part of the Dark Continent your colored
friend expects to find his distinguished parent?”
“I have no more idea than he has himself, but I should think it is well
to the south.”
“That route would take him through Morocco, Rio de Oro, Senegal, to
Liberia, with the larger half of Africa still to the southward. But it
is idle to speculate on their course after crossing the ocean, a feat
they are not likely to accomplish for some time to come. Let us figure
on what they will probably do while in our own country.”
“That is the great question. If we can’t head off the lunatic and
rescue poor Bunk before he turns his back upon these shores he will
never be rescued at all.”
“Professor Morgan is a moody man. Only on rare occasions does he come
out of his shell, as he did on the night when he first called upon you
at the home of the countryman.”
“When we met afterward he was hardly willing to look at, much less
speak to me.”
“That is his natural frame of mind; now and then the reaction hits
him, when he will admit there are other human beings on our earth.
It is useless, therefore, to look for the Professor in any of the
cities or towns. He will not share his secrets with others, but will
push his investigations in private and far from the haunts of men.
I believe he will locate somewhere to the northward, either in the
mountainous regions of New York, New England or Canada, so that when
he is prepared, he will have only a short distance to go to get to his
starting point. But,” added Detective Pendar, “we are in the realm of
guesswork and that part of the earth lying yonder” (he made a sweep of
his arm to the northward) “is pretty big. Of course you will never find
him without first picking up some clue.”
“And how shall that be done?”
“Ah, I wish I could answer.”
The detective lighted another cigar, leaned back in his chair with his
legs crossed and puffed awhile in silence. He was thinking hard and his
listener waited for him to speak.
“I have been trying to decide upon what fact I base a vague belief that
this loon has his workshop in the northern part of New York State, well
toward the Canadian border. He never told me anything about himself and
I have not seen his name or doings in print. The impression must be
one of those hazy ones that steal into the brain without any apparent
reason, and are explained by some as due to a sixth sense.”
“Such as when you located the kidnappers in this part of the world,”
ventured Harvey Hamilton.
“That was quite different; I accidentally ran upon a definite clue, but
there is nothing of the kind in sight here. You have no idea how many
of the successes among us detectives are due to lucky accidents. Now
such an original genius as Milo Morgan cannot always keep out of the
public eye. His achievements are so remarkable that several of them
must become known; the omni-present reporters will hunt him up; if they
can get snapshots his picture will appear on the printed page, with
interesting interviews, all probably faked. If this does not occur, his
doings will be mentioned in some journal; if you will arrange with a
press-clipping bureau, you will probably get the clue you need.”
Harvey had never thought of anything like this. It added to his
hopefulness and he began to believe it quite possible that Bohunkus
Johnson might be run down and saved from what seemed impending death.
“The character of Professor Morgan being what it is, why was he willing
to take my colored friend with him?”
“It was not altogether the whim of a lunatic. He could not have failed
to note that the negro is stupid, consequently would not bore him with
questions which he did not wish to answer. At the same time, Bunk is
big, powerful and good-natured,--in short an ideal assistant, for there
must be arduous labor connected with the experiments of the brilliant
inventor. In my judgment it was these facts which influenced Morgan to
take the lad with him; Bunk would be desirable for the same reasons on
a trip across the ocean and it would be an easy reward to give him for
his help.”
“It seems to me, Mr. Pendar, that valuable time will be lost while
waiting for news through the sources you name.”
“Possibly you are right, but I can think of no other way that promises
success. From Chesterton you will first go to your home; you can reach
there to-morrow; you will tell your father everything of course, and he
will be as helpful as he was in getting you a new aeroplane.”
“How?”
“When he returns to New York he can telephone the leading
press-clipping bureaus and not only set them on the watch for future
bits of information, but have them hunt for that which has been
published lately. Something will be picked up quite soon and then your
real work will begin.”
“What course do you advise me to follow?”
“Go to Albany or Troy, or even farther north, making sure your father
knows where to reach you by telegraph. As soon as he receives the
information he wants, he can wire it to you and then you will have to
depend upon your own wits. I shall venture upon a few more words of
advice. Have you had much experience in revolver shooting?”
“No; I have a fine Colt’s at home and my brother Dick has one, and we
sometimes try our skill at targets, but he prefers a rifle or shotgun,
and I don’t particularly care for either.”
“You may not need any firearms, but don’t forget to take your pistol
and a fair supply of cartridges with you. As they say out West, you
don’t often want a revolver, but when you do, you want it blanked bad.
It will be well also to supply yourself pretty liberally with funds,
for there’s no saying what necessity you will run against.”
“I shall not forget your counsel; I appreciate it and shall follow it
in spirit and letter.”
“I wish I could go with you, but I am not my own master. You have my
address and will inform me when you have any news to tell.”
The two shook hands and separated.