THE AEROPLANE
“Look out!” yelled Bob, though why, he could not have told. It was too
late for that advice.
“What do you mean--running us down?” fiercely demanded Ned.
The _Neboje_, after heeling well over, swung back, and slowly came to
an even keel, while the _Avis_, under a reversed engine, backed away.
“You did that on purpose!” cried Ned, shaking his fist at Frank, who
did not seem at all put out by the accident. “You don’t know any
more about steering a boat than a cow!” went on Ned. “You did this
deliberately, and you’ll pay for it, too.”
“You got in my way,” said Frank coolly. “You saw the course I was
steering. I had a right to it. You should have gone to port.”
“That’s how little you know about boating,” said Jerry as calmly as
he could under the circumstances. “It was you who should have steered
over.”
Frank did not reply to this, but again started his boat for the landing
place. Ned, who had shut off the engine when he saw that a collision
was inevitable, started it again, and went on to the place where the
_Neboje_ was usually moored.
“You’d better take some steering lessons,” shouted Ned after Frank.
“But then it’s what I’d expect of a fellow who would squeal on others
about a feed, and hand the proc the key to the room.”
“Who says I did that?” cried Frank, leaping out of his boat and running
to where Ned stood on the dock.
“I do!” answered Ned truculently, “and I’m ready to back it up!” He
began taking off his coat, an example followed by Frank.
“You can’t fight here,” said Ted Newton, stepping in between the angry
youths. “If you want to have it out, do it regularly.”
“Oh, I’ll do it!” cried Ned.
“And you’ll find me there!” added Frank with a sneer. “I’ll make you
take back what you said.”
“And I’ll make you pay for damaging our boat!” retorted Ned.
The details of the fight that followed in the secluded place appointed
by college custom for such affairs may be passed over. Suffice it to
say that Ned and Frank were evenly matched, and each received about the
same amount of punishment--black eyes being administered to both, with
various cuts and bruises.
And the fight did not settle either point. Ned refused to take back
what he had said to Frank about the key. Nor would Frank pay for the
damage to the _Neboje_, though the damage was not as great as had
originally been feared.
So matters stood about where they were at first, with this exception,
that there was more bad blood between our heroes and Frank and his
chums.
But in spite of this Ned, Bob and Jerry were finding life at Boxwood
Hall very much to their liking. It is true they had enemies,
principally those of Frank’s set, and they had rivals, as might be
expected. But they also made many friends. What boys would not who were
as manly and as jolly as the Cresville chums, and who had, moreover,
a fine car and a motor boat? The latter had been repaired and many a
jolly trip our friends had in her.
They also went on outings in the machine, Professor Snodgrass going
along occasionally, to look for late fall insects. One day the little
scientist, learning that Bob, Ned, Jerry and Tom Bacon were going in
the direction of Fox Swamp, mentioned the fact that he wanted to go
there also, to see if he could not find a certain species of very large
beetle, which, at this time of the year, burrowed into the ground,
there to remain until warm weather came again.
“Come along,” said Jerry, who was at the wheel; and they were soon
speeding in the direction of Fairview.
“This is some way to come to college!” exclaimed Tom, enthusiastically.
“A motor boat and a car would make college worth while to anyone.”
“And Boxwood Hall is a dandy place!” exclaimed Ned.
As they passed the fair grounds, scenes of activity were noted.
“Looks as though something was going on,” remarked Bob.
“There is,” said Tom. “The fair opens to-morrow, and there’s going to
be an aeroplane flight. I’m coming over.”
The other boys expressed their intention of doing the same. On their
arrival at the swamp Professor Snodgrass enlisted the aid of the lads
in looking for the large beetle.
“If you see some round holes in the ground, with a little heap of earth
on two sides of it, you may know the beetle is there,” he said.
“Why _two_ heaps of earth?” asked Ned. “There is only one when ants dig
out their chambers under ground.”
“That is one of the peculiarities of this beetle,” said the little
scientist, as he mentioned the Latin name. “It burrows into the ground,
and brings up the excavated earth, putting it in two almost exactly
even piles. Just why, we have never been able to learn.”
The boys scattered, to look for beetle holes, for they liked the
professor and were always glad to help him in his scientific work,
especially when it was of an odd turn, such as this.
“Here’s a hole--I’ve found one!” cried Ned, and Professor Snodgrass,
hurrying over, confirmed the discovery.
“The beetle is working down there now,” he said. “You can tell that by
the freshness of the piles of earth.” The boys saw that there were two
little earth-piles, just as the scientist had said. Professor Snodgrass
knelt down over the hole.
“What are you going to do?” Jerry asked.
“Get the beetle,” was the answer.
The professor inserted his two fingers in the opening, and began
feeling about. Suddenly a queer look came over his face, and he uttered
an exclamation.
“Did you get the beetle?” asked Bob.
“Er--yes, I--I think so,” was the hesitating answer. “Or perhaps it
would be more correct to say that the beetle has _me_. My! how he
pinches!”
The professor pulled up his fingers, and clinging to one of them was a
large, black beetle, which had drawn blood.
“Look at that, would you!” cried Bob. “I wouldn’t want one of them to
get on me.”
“They _have_ rather powerful mandibles,” admitted the professor. “If
one of you will hand me my cyanide bottle I’ll get rid of this fellow.”
Jerry handed over a large-mouthed bottle which the scientist had placed
with his specimen box a little distance from him. The bottom of the
flask was filled with plaster of Paris, in which was mixed cyanide
of potassium. This gives off a very poisonous gas. Insects dropped
into the bottle die painlessly. The professor held the beetle, still
clinging to his finger, down inside the bottle, and in a few seconds
the queer, burrowing insect dropped to the bottom of the bottle, which
the professor corked.
“A very successful capture,” he remarked. “Now for another.”
“Do you mean to say you are going to put your fingers down another hole
and run the chance of getting bitten?” asked Jerry.
“Oh, I don’t mind a little bite like this,” said Professor Snodgrass,
putting some peroxide on the punctures. “I must have another beetle.”
“And he got it, too!” said Jerry, telling about the incident afterward,
“or rather, the beetle got him again, on another finger.”
The professor was enthusiastic over his specimens, even though the
bites poisoned him so that his fingers swelled up, and he could not
write for a week. But he said it was worth all the pain.
“Well, shall we take in the fair?” asked Jerry of his chums the next
day after lunch.
“Sure thing!” cried Ned. “I want to see if they have anything new in
aeroplanes.”
“They’ll have to go some to beat the motor ship we had,” observed Bob.
“But we’ll have some fun, anyhow. Let’s make up a crowd and go in the
machine.”
This was agreed to, and with Tom Bacon, George Fitch, Ted Newton and
Chet Randell, the boys set off for Fairview that afternoon, “cutting”
some lectures in order to make the trip.
The fair grounds were a lively place, for tents and booths had been
put up over night, and, gaily decorated with flags and bunting, made a
pleasing picture that bright October day.
“There’s the aeroplane over there!” cried Ned, as they went to the
parking place with their automobile.
“Two of ’em!” added Bob. “They’re just the ordinary type, though.
Nothing like what we had.”
“Did you fellows really have an aeroplane?” asked Tom.
“Sure we did!” answered Jerry.
“These have self-starters,” remarked Ned, as he and the others
inspected the aeroplanes.
“And they carry double,” added Bob.
There was a big crowd around the air craft, for it had been announced
that a race was about to take place. Jerry and his chums saw Frank
Watson and his crowd near the biplanes, and Frank, looking at our
heroes, said sneeringly, and loudly enough to be heard by them:
“This is the kind of machine the motor boys said they had. Humph! I
don’t believe they’d dare go up in a balloon!”
“The cad!” muttered Ned. “I’ll show him!”
“Now quiet down,” ordered Jerry. “If you don’t----”
At that moment one of the aviators stepped forward and addressed the
throng.
“Is there any one here who has been up in an aeroplane, and who is
willing to go up again?” the man asked. “My partner has failed to
arrive, and we can’t have the race unless I take some one up with me.
Will any one volunteer?”
Ned Slade stepped forward.