RIVALS IN THE FIELD.
“Did you ever see such nerve, Puss, in all your life?” gasped Sandy, as
the two newcomers brought up alongside the astonished Andy.
“Look at the vandal, would you, ripping the cover off our cylinder just
as cool as you please! Hey! Sandy, see anything of the yard watchman
around? We ought to have him pinch this thief straight away!” snapped
the Carberry boy, as he glared at the stooping figure.
“Ain’t he the bird, though?” went on Sandy, pretending to be surprised
in turn; “And as sure as you live, Puss, it’s the tail end of that
wonderful Bird combination that’s going to do such stunning stunts one
of these fine days. Oh! me! oh! my! What a loss there’ll be when he is
shut up in the cooler!”
“Looky here, just explain what right you’ve got cutting open our
freight, that’s the ticket!” blustered Percy, shaking his clenched hand
in front of Andy’s nose.
“Take that away! I don’t like it. And what the dickens do you mean
saying this thing is your freight?” demanded the threatened one,
beginning to gain his feet; for he did not just fancy kneeling so close
to a fellow like Percy Hollingshead, whose reputation for treachery was
well known.
“Because it is our freight. Go back to school and learn to read,
you lunkhead!” the other went on, seeming to get more and more
angry--because they were two to one, and the freight yard was a usually
sequestered place, where no one would be apt to interfere, if so be
they chose to administer a drubbing to the offensive investigator.
“But it’s certainly a cylinder for an airship!” declared Andy, casting
a quick glance down toward his feet, where the partly uncovered object
lay.
“Who said it wasn’t, tell me that? Did you hear either of us whisper
anything to that effect?” demanded Percy, aggressively.
“Must think you’ve got just a monopoly of the flying business!” sneered
Sandy, puffing out his chest like a pigeon strutting along the barn
roof. “Time you woke up and learned a few things, one of which is that
with all your bluster and brag the firm of Bird and Bird is soon going
to be a back number. Back to the junk heap for yours, Andy. Your name
should be spelled Mud!”
“Oh! that’s it, is it!” exclaimed the other, more than a little
surprised; for these fellows had up to now kept their intentions
secret. “Let me take a peep at the tag then. Didn’t occur to me to
think of doing that before, because neither of us ever dreamed that
anybody else in Bloomsbury but us could be getting a cylinder for an
aeroplane.”
One glance convinced him, for the name of Percy Carberry was plainly
printed on the big stout tag.
“Say, I’m sorry about this,” Andy declared instantly. “Wouldn’t have
had it happen for a good deal. But you can see how we fell into such a
blunder, fellows! I guess no harm has been done. I’ll fasten up this
burlap again if you say so.”
It was as manly an apology as any boy would expect, and should have
been met in the same frank spirit that it was given. But that was not
the Carberry and Hollingshead way. They exchanged looks. Then they
laughed sneeringly.
“Listen to the sneak crawl, would you?” exclaimed Sandy, with an
expressive and insulting shrug of the shoulders.
“Just the Bird way, always trying to creep out of trouble. Caught in
the act, he pretends it was all a mistake. But you don’t pull the wool
over our eyes, Andy Bird. We’re on to your curves all right, ain’t we,
Sandy?”
“Sure we are. A clear case of professional jealousy. Heard that we
were going to have a biplane that would cut circles all around your
old top, and just couldn’t resist the temptation to spy on us. Hey!
Puss, I wouldn’t put it past him to throw some strong acid on this fine
cylinder of ours, so as to make it weak, and bust, some time when we
happened to be sailing around up there among the clouds!”
“You’re crazy, that’s what!” burst out the indignant Andy, aroused by
this mean taunt and insinuation, as nothing else could have stirred his
blood. “Nobody in all Bloomsbury would ever think of such a ridiculous
thing but you! Why, your mind’s just crammed with vile tricks like
that, Sandy Hollingshead. Now, just put that in your pipe and smoke it!”
The one addressed scowled, and turned a quick, interrogative look
toward his companion.
“Hear that, do you, Puss?” he gritted between his teeth. “The sneak
wants to pick a fuss with us. It ain’t enough for him to be caught
in the act; he tries to holler ‘stop thief’ just like them clever
pick-pockets do down in New York, when they snatch a purse and run.
What say, ought we to trim him, now that we’ve got the chance?”
Percy looked willing. Indeed, if there was one person in all Bloomsbury
whom he would like to thrash better than Andy, it was his cousin, Frank.
Their manner was pugnacious and aggressive as they began to close in
on the object of their regard. Andy believed he was in for a peck
of trouble. He knew he could never hope to hold his own against the
precious pair; and the worst of it all was that he had unwittingly
given them a good cause for attacking him, owing to his carelessness in
meddling with the wrapper of the steel cylinder before examining the
label.
But Andy was game. He had a never-say-die spirit, even if not as clever
a fighter as his cousin. No one could ever force him to give up so long
as he had a single breath left with which to resist.
So he closed his hands, and assumed an attitude of defense. At this
Sandy actually broke out into a roar.
“Look at that, would you, Puss!” he cried. “The beggar means to object
to taking his medicine like a little man! All right; we’ll just have to
make him open his beak and swallow the bitter pill. You give him the
first dose, Puss. I’ll take care he don’t skeedaddle in a hurry!”
“Hold on a minute, fellows,” said Andy, as though striving to gain time.
“What you got to say now, hey?” demanded the Hollingshead boy. “Get it
off your system in a big hurry, for we ain’t got any time to waste with
you.”
“I’m going to prove what I said, and that we believed this was our
cylinder, or else we wouldn’t have touched it,” declared Andy, who had
an eye beyond the figure of Sandy, though the other did not realize the
fact.
“Are, hey? Well, all I can say is that you’re going to have a mighty
big job convincing _us_ you’re innocent. Hurry up!” snarled Percy,
anxious to start operations, and wipe out some little matters that
burned in his brain, and which had to do with certain defeats in the
past at the hand of a Bird boy.
“All right. While I dropped down here to remove this burlap, just to
have something to do, and feast my eyes on the lovely cylinder we
wanted so much, Frank went to see the yard clerk, and settle the bill.”
“Frank?” exclaimed Percy, uneasily. “Was he along with you?”
“Sure,” sang out Andy, knowing that the anticipated rupture was all
off. “And if you turn your wise old head right now you’ll see his well
known figure sprinting this way, with the clerk following after him!”
Whereupon the other pair shot a quick glance in the direction
indicated; and what they discovered somehow caused them to no longer
keep their hands doubled up in that aggressive manner.
“Oh! well, in that case, perhaps there was a mistake made,” Sandy
hastened to say; for he saw that Frank was jumping toward them in a
fashion that somehow did not appeal to his fancy--for Sandy had more or
less knowledge of the excellent manner in which the tall lad could use
his fists on occasion, when forced to fight.
“Yes, and next time just be a little more careful how you dig into
other people’s things, if you please!” said Percy, also anxious to cast
oil on the troubled waters before the other Bird arrived on the scene.
“What’s the matter?” asked Frank as he reached the side of his cousin,
and turned a look of contempt on the precious pair.
“Oh!” laughed Andy, carelessly, so lightly did such things affect
him, “they were just complaining that I’d gone and meddled with their
freight, and didn’t want to accept my humble apologies. But I guess
it’s all right now, Frank. Has our cylinder come?”
“Sure, but hasn’t been taken from the car yet. Come, we’ll go with Sam
Harrington here, and claim it. He says we can easily carry it home with
us.”
Frank never gave the two standing there a single word. He understood
how matters had probably been at the time of his opportune arrival.
“They didn’t dare a lay a finger on you, did they, Andy?” he asked,
while they walked after the yard clerk toward a certain car near by.
“Well, no,” admitted the other, quickly, “but the storm was just going
to break when you showed up. But what do you think of their nerve in
getting a biplane ready to show us up? Say, things look like they might
be getting warm around old Bloomsbury pretty soon. I can see the time
coming when the town will be a regular aviation center, with aerodromes
and hangars dotting the landscape. And we’re the pioneers of the great
uplift movement!”
“That sounds pretty good--uplift movement when applied to aeroplanes
and dirigible balloons is fine! But don’t let your imagination run
away with you, Andy. Perhaps we may get dropped out of our aircraft
the first shot, and that squash would put a dampener on all flying in
this section. Even Percy’s easy going mother will cut off the spending
money. And that aviation field you have in your mind’s eye can never
crop up.”
“Well, anyway, there’s our cylinder; and just now that’s what ought to
interest us more than anything else. A biplane, he said! Think of that,
Frank. Just like Puss Carberry to want to outdo everybody else. He knew
ours was going to be equipped with a single pair of planes; and of
course he falls into the error of believing he can beat us by doubling
up. His old game, Frank; but when did it work?”
“Not very often, for a fact,” replied the other, as he bent down to
lift one end of the package the clerk pointed out to them.
Presently the freight bill having been settled the two boys walked
off bearing between them the precious piece of machinery that was
needed to complete their labors of two months. With that placed in its
proper position, and several minor things adjusted, they believed the
monoplane would be ready for testing.
And what a great day it would be for the Bird boys when they were able
to take their first little flight near the ground. Andy thrilled as he
talked of the glorious prospect ahead, and now attainable, since the
last difficulty seemed to have been smoothed away.
They took their time in walking back to the Whympers place. Several
boys whom they chanced to meet, asked questions concerning the time
when they expected to try out the new flying machine. But to these the
cousins gave noncommittal answers.
“Think we want a crowd of fellows gaping, and bothering right at that
critical time?” declared Andy, as they left a group of comrades on the
road. “I just can’t get that old story of Darius Green and his flying
machine out of my head. Gee! I hope we don’t come a cropper like he
did, and smash everything! But here we are at the road that leads down
to the field where our hangar stands. Turn in, Frank.”
Passing alongside the garden, they presently struck the gate that
opened into the broad field which they expected to use for their
circling, once they got the monoplane to working.
“Here, drop her while I find my key,” said Andy, suiting the action
to the word. “Three to one it’s up at the house, in my other clothes
that I had on last night when we were working here. Ain’t that just a
blooming shame now, that a fellow has to sprint all the way there and
back?”
“Hold on!” exclaimed Frank, suddenly, and there was that in the tone of
his voice to startle his cousin, who stopped still, while in the act of
hurrying away.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded. “Did I happen to give you the key
now?”
“Not that I remember. But you needn’t run to the house. We can get in
without any key this time, I guess,” said Frank, with an angry gleam in
his dark eyes.
He pointed to the door, and looking, Andy saw that the staple holding
the padlock had _been drawn_, so that it could be pulled with the
slightest effort!