[Illustration: Jack now pushed the craft ahead at full speed.—_Page
40._]
THE
BOY INVENTORS’
FLYING SHIP
BY
RICHARD BONNER
AUTHOR OF “THE BOY INVENTORS’ WIRELESS TRIUMPH,” “THE BOY
INVENTORS AND THE VANISHING GUN,” “THE BOY INVENTORS’
DIVING TORPEDO BOAT,” ETC., ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
CHARLES L. WRENN_
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1913
BY
HURST & COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. READY FOR THE TEST 5
II. A SIGNAL OF DISTRESS 21
III. AN AERIAL STOWAWAY 31
IV. INTO THE THICK OF IT 42
V. MUTINY 54
VI. A STORM AT SEA 66
VII. THE BOYS FIND NEW JOBS 76
VIII. “THIS IS THE FINISH” 84
IX. ASHORE 95
X. THE CASTAWAYS 105
XI. ABOARD THE WRECK 113
XII. IN DIRE PERIL 123
XIII. ATTACKED BY A WHALE 135
XIV. THE SEA-COW’S LULLABY 144
XV. THE PROFESSOR IN TROUBLE 153
XVI. THE CAMP IN THE FOREST 164
XVII. THE GIANT SLOTH 175
XVIII. IN THE JUNGLE 186
XIX. INDIANS OF THE AMAZON 196
XX. AN “EEL-ECTRIC” DISCOVERY 205
XXI. THE MARCHING ANTS 217
XXII. “UP A TREE” 227
XXIII. THE CLEVERNESS OF THE CAPTAIN 236
XXIV. THE LION’S MOUTH 251
XXV. THE TRIBE OF CHEKLA 265
XXVI. DIAMONDS VS. FREEDOM 276
XXVII. THE PROFESSOR TRIUMPHS 287
The Boy Inventors’ Flying Ship
CHAPTER I.
READY FOR THE TEST.
“Shake, Tom, old boy; ‘tip us your flipper,’ as Captain Andrews would
say. The _Wondership_ is ready for her final try-out.”
“Finished.” Tom Jesson drew a long sigh, then he wrung his cousin’s
hand with energy enough to have wrenched it loose.
Jack Chadwick flung down the “alligator” wrench with which he had
been going over every nut and bolt, and capered about the lofty,
bare-raftered shed. Tom’s round face beamed, mirroring the other’s high
good humor.
“And the try-out’s going to be a big success, Jack,” he declared
positively. “I can feel it in my bones,—like Jupe when his rheumatics
are coming on. My! Jack, that pontoon idea was the biggest thing we’ve
ever struck.”
“Wait till we’ve tried it out,” smiled Jack, less impetuously; “it may
prove the biggest bump we’ve ever struck.”
“Well, I’m willing to risk it. When shall we make the trial trip?”
“No time like the present. There are a few finishing touches still to
be seen to, but by this evening everything will be ready. Besides,
night is the best time. We don’t want a crowd around. There has been
enough curiosity in what we have been doing, already.”
“I should say so. Look at this Boston sheet, will you? A column of
mystery for a cent!”
Tom drew from his pocket a copy of a Boston paper and indicated some
staring head-lines.
“’A Mystery of The Night Skies!’” he declaimed vociferously, waving an
arm. “Some class there, eh?”
“Quite enough,” chuckled Jack. “We didn’t think that our little spin
the other night was going to cause such a stir-up, did we?”
“It was all the fault of those red and green lights you hung out,”
protested Tom. “Can you blame a community for getting worked up at
the spectacle of colored lights like those on a ship, skimming around
above their heads at sixty miles an hour? Hullo!” he broke off, still
scanning the paper. “Here’s a letter from one fellow who declares that
what was seen was a comet.”
“A comet, eh? Well, that wouldn’t be such a bad name for the new Flying
Road Racer,” mused Jack reflectively.
“Never heard of a comet that would swim,” retorted Tom.
“Well, we don’t know yet that the new Road Racer _will_ perform the
stunts we expect her to.”
“In which case, we are in for a cold, cold bath.”
“Cheer up, Tom,” laughed Jack. “Get busy now and finish up the
pontoons with that aluminum paint. If the trial is set for this
evening, we haven’t any too much time.”
Both boys fell to work again with feverish energy. The work of
many weeks, carried on sometimes in high hope, sometimes in deep
despondency, was before them in complete form, except for the final
touches. Only the important experiment remained. Would the re-modelled
_Flying Road Racer_ do what the boys expected of her? If the answer to
that question was in the affirmative, they knew that they had invented
and carried to perfection the greatest craft of its kind hitherto
known. The new craft would indeed merit her name of _Wondership_ if she
did what the boys confidently expected of her.
And what was this _Wondership_ that had for weeks occupied every minute
of the Boy Inventors’ time, exclusive of their studies in the Technical
College that both attended in Boston? Readers of former volumes of
this series will recall the _Flying Road Racer_, the air and land
ship that had carried the boys and their friends faithfully so many
miles, and in which they had encountered many stirring adventures.
Well, the _Wondership_, as Jack in his enthusiasm had termed the craft,
was nothing more nor less than the _Flying Road Racer_, altered almost
beyond recognition.
The shed in which the changes had been carried out was located on a
lonesome part of the seacoast not far from Nestorville, where the boys
lived. But, remote as the spot was, it still was not far enough removed
from human haunts to escape much speculation over what was going
forward in the great, gaunt, unpainted shed among the sand-hills.
Inquisitive folks had watched wagons, laden with big crates and
seemingly heavy boxes, making their way to the place at intervals; but
so carefully had the shed been guarded and locked that nobody had as
yet discovered the boys’ secret. Had anyone done so, it is certain
that the two lads would have been besieged by curiosity seekers, for
the craft on which they were working was the most ambitious thing that
they had undertaken. The _Wondership_ was nothing more nor less than an
invention capable of travel by land, air and water. On land it rolled
along on wheels, above the earth it depended on a large, gas-filled
bag for buoyancy, while on the water (and this was the feature still
untested), the boys hoped to make it float like a boat by means of
pontoons.
Of course, the idea of pontoons as applied to aerial craft was by no
means a novelty. Glen Curtiss, pioneer in this field, already had a
fleet of successful hydro-aeroplanes, and many other inventors were
laboring along these lines. It was in the application of the idea that
the boys had radically departed from anything hitherto known. At the
risk of being tedious we must now describe the _Wondership_ at some
length, in order that what is to follow of her marvelous adventures
may be clear.
Readers of former books relating the experience of the Boy Inventors
know that the _Flying Road Racer_ was a craft built like an immense
automobile with a semi-cylindrical body. It seated six persons, and at
a pinch could accommodate more. The lower part of the cylinder was a
big tank in which gas was generated from a concentrated powder which,
upon being mixed with water, formed a vapor of extraordinary buoyancy.
In the upper part were padded seats, storage chambers for food and
supplies, and a machinery chamber housed under a hood.
Above this auto-like structure rose a framework of vanadium and
aluminum alloy, on which was folded, when not in use, the gas-bag which
lifted the _Flying Road Racer_ from the earth when it was desired to
fly. Pumps filled the bag with gas, or withdrew it, as was desired.
Provision allowing for the expansion and contraction of the bag had
also been made, as was fully described in another volume.
What the boys had done was this: They had extended the semi-cylindrical
formation till they had formed a full cylinder of light but strong
metal. Roughly, the _Flying Road Racer_ now resembled a huge, gleaming
white cigar on wheels. Along her sides stretched hollow aluminum
planes, or wings.
In the air these took the place of the former planes used in ascending
or descending. On the water it was hoped that they would act as
hydroplanes, buoying up the craft. But for buoyancy they did not depend
on these hydroplanes, or pontoons, alone. The body of the _Flying Road
Racer_ was, by a singular stroke of inventive ingenuity, made to be in
itself a buoyant craft.
When running along the road, or while flying, the top of the
cylindrical body could be opened for air and observation. On a calm sea
or lake the boys believed also that the craft, with the aid of the
hydroplanes, would float, just like a boat. The hydroplanes at the side
would, of course, correct a tendency to roll over, which an unsupported
cylindrical body would naturally have. But in case of rough water,
during which they might, in the course of the long flights they meant
to take, be compelled to descend, the waves would be apt to break over
the craft and swamp it.
To provide against such an emergency the ingenuity of the boys had
been called into full play. It took many sleepless nights and days
of anxious thought to solve the problem. But they believed that they
had found a solution. The open space on the top of the cylinder was
provided with metal doors which could be closed and screwed down,
forming a water-tight compartment. Thus, the _Flying Road Racer_ would,
in a rough sea, be a water-tight cylinder, practically unsinkable
unless the light metal hull was punctured.
The next problem had been a difficult one likewise. The question of how
to ventilate an air-tight and water-tight cylinder was a vexing one.
It was Jack who hit upon a plan. Like most big ideas it was simple, and
was suggested to him by a recollection of the periscope tube on the
submarine _Peacemaker_, which, as told in “The Boy Inventors and the
Diving Torpedo Boat,” they had helped to construct. Jack’s solution,
then, was this: A collapsible twin tube was made which when extended
fully would reach upward, above the air-tight cylinder, to a height of
twenty-five feet. At the bottom of this tube, and inside the cylinder,
was a chamber containing two tiny fans. One of these fans, driven by
storage batteries, sucked in fresh air from the top of the tube; the
other drew out the foul fumes and sent them up the other channel of the
extension pipe.
The _Wondership_ was driven in the air and on land and water by
the same power, the gas from the storage chamber which formed the
lower section of the cylinder. But to fit her for her new work extra
powerful engines had been installed, and a propeller of different
pattern added. The propeller-shaft was connected to the motor through
a water-tight stuffing box, as on a motor boat. The rudder lines, too,
led through water-tight connections to the steering wheel. The aerial
rudder, being of light metal like the propeller, was capable of use
both in the air and water. In place of the old driving mechanism, too,
the boys had simplified the _Flying Road Racer_ by their new form of
propeller. This did away with the cumbrous connections and clutches to
the rear axle. The new form of propeller drew the _Wondership_ along
the roads almost as swiftly as it pulled her through the air.
* * * * *
As for the boys themselves, as readers of earlier volumes of this
series know, they both lived at High Towers, the estate of Jack’s
father, near Nestorville. Jack’s father was an inventor of note, and
in our first story, “The Boy Inventors’ Wireless Triumph,” it was
described how the boys aided him in many stirring adventures in
Yucatan and in the discovery of Tom Jesson’s long missing father, an
explorer and naturalist. Since that time Mr. Jesson had made his home
with his brother-in-law who, like himself, was a widower. The next
volume detailed how Jack and Tom helped an inventor in trouble, and
how, after many perils and difficulties, a wonderful vanishing gun was
at length brought to perfection in spite of the machinations of a gang
of rascals. This volume was called “The Boy Inventors’ Vanishing Gun.”
The third volume has already been referred to. It told how the boys
had many exciting times under the ocean and on the surface. The
_Peacemaker_ was a wonderful craft and proved of material aid to some
Americans beleaguered by blood-thirsty negro revolutionists in Cuba.
Through the experiences related in this book both the boys increased
their mechanical ability and learned self-reliance and manliness in
many a hard test of both those sterling qualities. Had this not been
so, it is doubtful if they would ever have had the grit to bring to a
triumphant conclusion the construction of the _Wondership_, beset as
their way was oftentimes by apparently insurmountable difficulties. But
now, as we know, the _Wondership_ lay finished before them. Already
they had tested her in flight to ascertain how she bore the added
weight. It was this trial, on which she carried side lights, like a
ship, that had caused the flurry in the city papers. It had been a
complete success, and only the trial by water remained.
Although Mr. Chadwick and Mr. Jesson knew that the boys were engaged
on a supreme task, neither had interfered or asked questions. Jack’s
father believed in letting his son solve his own problems. He knew that
if occasion arose his advice would be called for. But the boys meant to
fight out their battle alone. Even the test to take place that evening
was to be unwitnessed, or so they hoped. Not till all was an assured
success did they intend to invite their parents to inspect their work.
As the term at the Technical College was over, both boys had full time
to devote to their work. All day they labored with paint brush and
wrench, testing and finishing. They gave themselves little time for
lunch, eating with one hand and working with the other. So engrossed
were they on their tasks that they did not notice that the brightness
of the day outside was being dimmed rapidly. A spring storm was rolling
up from seaward.
Neither did they know that their work was going forward with attention
other than their own concentrated upon it. The unseen observer had
alighted from a car at its terminal some miles away and tramped across
the sand dunes toward the big shed. Keeping warily out of sight he
made his way up to the structure and, boring a hole in the planking,
watched with burning interest all that was going on within. He was an
odd-looking figure, dressed in a loud checked suit and sporting a gaudy
necktie and a hat cocked to one side. But his youthful face bore an
inquiring, good-humored expression that belied his aggressive way of
dressing. Over one shoulder was slung a camera. As he watched the boys
through the small hole he had bored with a gimlet that he carried in
his pocket, the unseen observer muttered strangely to himself.
“By the double-jointed hoorah of the Sahara Desert!” he exclaimed from
time to time. “Dick, my boy, you’ve struck it! Instead of being fired
for incompetency, you’ll be the biggest reporter in Boston to-morrow.
You’ve run the Mystery of the Skies to its roost,—by the long-legged
Llama of Thibet, you have!”
All day he watched, his joints stiff and aching from holding the one
position, but he never budged. It was growing toward dusk before he
observed the change in the weather that had come with startling
suddenness. The sea, calm before, was now roaring angrily on the beach
beyond the dunes. The sky was covered with scurrying clouds. The wind
moaned ominously.
The unseen watcher made a grimace.
“In for a wetting and three miles to that car,” he muttered, “but by
the crooked cantelope of Cambodia, it’s worth it! Hullo! What’s that?”
From seaward there had come the heavy boom of a gun. About four miles
off shore, dangerously close for that coast, there lay a white,
yacht-like craft. Clearly she had fired the gun. Now she ran up some
sort of signal.
“By the scampering snakes of Senegambia, there’s another story!” gasped
the watcher. “I’ll be made a managing editor at least, by the time I
get through.”