JACK TAKES TO THE AIR.
Captain Brice and Jack were in the air in less than five minutes after
they had received the word from Bob.
The Captain had long before explained his plan to the boy.
“Jim and I reckoned that he’ll likely make about seventy-five or eighty
miles an hour, and will probably go towards Boston. That will bring him
somewhere over Augusta at the end of the first hour. So I’m planning to
be in that vicinity at about that time and we ought to pick him up. Of
course it’s largely guesswork and if he goes off in another direction
we’ll be out of luck, that’s all.”
As the big plane left the ground Jack experienced a thrill such as he
had never had before. He had often dreamed of chasing an enemy plane
through the air but had never dared hope that he might actually take
part in such a flight. The Captain had provided him with a powerful
field glass and he knew that his part in the game was to catch sight of
the other machine.
He began using the glasses almost as soon as they started.
“It won’t do any harm and he may be coming more in this direction than
we think,” he told himself.
But for nearly an hour he saw nothing more closely resembling an airship
than a distant hawk.
“Keep an eye peeled,” Captain Brice shouted back. “We’re apt to pick him
up most any time now.”
The words had hardly left the Captain’s lips when Jack saw through the
glass a speck which sent a thrill of excitement through his body. Was it
the plane or only another bird? It was higher than they and too far off
for him to be sure. He waited a few minutes and then handed the glass to
the Captain pointing toward the speck as he did so.
Captain Brice looked through the glass for several minutes then he
handed it back with a nod of his head. Immediately after he changed the
direction of their flight slightly and, as Jack again got the focus, he
realized that the chase had begun in good earnest. Yes, there was no
longer any doubt as to the identity of the distant object. It was a
plane and he did not hesitate in feeling sure that it was the one they
were after.
Faster and faster the plane pushed its way through the air and nearer
and nearer they drew to their quarry.
So far as Jack could see the distant aviator never swerved from his
course which was south-westerly.
“I’ll bet he’s planning to hit either Boston or New York,” he thought.
It was soon evident that they were rapidly overhauling the other flyer
and before long Jack could easily make out the form of the driver with
the aid of the glass. Just then Captain Brice turned in his seat.
“I’m going to slow her down a bit,” he shouted.
As he spoke Jack keeping his eyes on the plane ahead now not more that
an eighth of a mile away, saw the man turn his head.
“He’s seen us,” he shouted.
The fact was at once evident for, as their machine slowed up the other
began to draw away. Seeing this Captain Brice at once increased his
speed but to his amazement he was no longer able to decrease the
distance between the two planes.
“He’s got some speed there,” he shouted back as he gave his plane the
last notch.
And now Jack saw that the machine ahead was changing its course. In a
large arc he swung until in the course of fifteen or twenty minutes he
was heading back nearly due north.
“He’s going to try and get back over the border,” Captain Brice shouted
turning his head.
For a moment Jack looked downward. They were about three thousand feet
high and below he could see the tumbling waters of the ocean. He was
unable to repress a shudder as the thought of what would happen should
anything go wrong with the plane came to him.
“Guess it would be no worse than dropping on the land though,” he
thought as he looked ahead once more.
As he kept his eyes on the plane ahead it was soon evident to the boy
that they were doing little if any better than holding their own.
Captain Brice again turned his head.
“It’s might queer,” he shouted. “I thought I had the fastest flyer in
the country but that fellow’s got one just as fast and I’m not sure but
what he can beat us.”
Glancing down again Jack saw that they were once more over the land. So
far as he could judge their relative position did not change a particle
during the next hour.
“We must be nearly up to Canada,” he thought.
For some time the smuggler had been increasing his altitude and now as
Jack glanced down he was hardly able to see the earth.
“I think we’re gaining a bit,” Captain Brice shouted.
He had hardly spoken the words when a sound like the bursting of a bomb
came to Jack’s ears above the throbbing of the motor. Almost at the same
instant a sheet of flame seemed to leap from the plane now only a short
distance ahead. Jack stared as one fascinated at the sight. For a moment
the plane seemed to poise like a wounded bird and then it began to fall.
Over and over the stricken plane turned as it hurtled toward the earth.
At the sound of the explosion Captain Brice had turned off the gas and
as Jack, leaning far over, watched the falling plane, he was making as
short a turn as possible.
“Poor fellow. That’s the end of him,” he said in a low tone easily
audible now that the motor was still.
The blazing plane at the moment disappeared in a dense piece of woods.
Captain Brice continued to let his plane drift until they were within a
few hundred feet of the earth when he started the engine again.
“Look out for a good place to land,” he shouted.
But it was some little time before they were able to pick out a suitable
landing field, but finally Jack saw a large level spot and pointed it
out to the Captain.
“All right we’ll go down.”
And down they went landing a few minutes later. The big plane sped along
the ground and at last came to a stop not thirty feet from a big farm
house.
“I don’t know whether we can call this a success or not,” the Captain
said as he climbed out of the machine.
“Well, one thing is certain,” Jack returned. “Whoever was to get that
load of whiskey will have to go without it.”
“No doubt of that.”
Just then the front door of the house opened and a man closely followed
by a woman came out.
“Good day, sir,” the Captain said snatching off his goggles and cap.
“’Tis that all right,” the man replied with a smile. “Ye been out taking
a spin I reckon.”
“You might call it that,” the Captain answered. “But can you tell us
where we are?”
“Reckon I ought to seeing as how I’ve lived here all my life. Ye’re
about two miles north of the town of Jackman, Maine.”
“Thanks.”
“’Twon’t cost yer a cent,” the farmer grinned. “But I’d sure like ter
know where yer’re from.”
“If you’ll excuse us just a moment while we telephone we’ll be glad to
tell you all about ourselves.”
“Pshaw, now, that’s too bad but we hain’t got no telephone.”
“We’ve got our own with us but thanks just the same,” the Captain said,
then turning to Jack: “Better call your brother and let them know that
our chase has ended.”
It took Jack several minutes to raise Bob, but finally he heard his
voice.
“Did you get him?”
“Not exactly but in a way we did,” and he told about the chase and its
tragic ending.
“Where are you now.”
“Two miles north of Jackman.”
“Good. You had better wait there for us. We’ll be out sometime late
tomorrow afternoon I hope.”
“How did you come out?”
“Fine. We got them all without any trouble.” While this conversation was
going on the farmer and his wife stood with open mouths watching.
“What do yer call that thing?” he asked after Jack had said good-bye.
“It’s a pocket radiophone.”
“Don’t use no wires, eh.”
“No, the waves are carried through the ether.”
“I want ter know. I’ve heered tell on ’em but never tuk much stock in
’em before now. But I reckon as how ye was really talkin’ ter somebody.”
“I was talking to my brother.”
“An’ where might he be?”
“He is somewhere to the west of here, about thirty miles away I should
judge.”
“Do tell. Mandy did ye ever hear the beat of that?”
But his wife seemed speechless with wonder and unable to make him any
reply.
Then the Captain told them about their chase after the smuggler.
“Where did you say that feller fell?” he asked as soon as Captain Brice
had finished.
“It must have been nearly twenty miles from here,” Jack told him. “I
noticed that there was a small pond just a little way from where he
landed and he went down in a narrow gorge between two hills.”
“That must be over by the twins,” the farmer said. “That’s what we call
them two hills, they’re so much alike.”
“How far is it from here?” Captain Brice asked.
“Matter of fifteen miles I reckon.”
“I wonder if we could buy our dinner here?” the Captain asked.
“No, sir, ye can’t, but I reckon me and Mandy’d be mighty glad ter give
yer all yer want ter eat fer nothin’.”
“Now that’s mighty good of you,” the Captain began but the old farmer
cut him short.
“Dinner’ll be on the table in about half an hour I reckon.”
It was a plain but good substantial dinner to which they sat down a
little later, and Mrs. Smith flushed with pleasure as they praised the
cooking which indeed deserved it.
“Do you suppose we could get a car to drive us over to that place?” the
Captain asked as they finally pushed back their chairs. “We ought to see
what became of that fellow.”
“Well, now, I got a flivver out in the barn and I can run you over just
as well as not.”
“That’ll be fine if you will let me pay you for it.”
“Reckon we’ll talk about that when we get back. It won’t break ye.”
It was nearly three o’clock when they arrived at the point designated as
the twins.
“He came down right here as near as I could judge,” Jack declared as he
jumped out of the car.
“You may be right and I hope you are,” Captain Brice declared. “But at
the rate we were going you could easily be several miles out of the way.
Anyhow we’ll make a search and we may find what’s left of him.”
“There’s some smoke right over there.” Jack pointed to his right.
“That may be it,” Captain Brice said as they started off through the
woods.
It was a little over a mile to the place where the smoke was rising, and
soon they were at the spot it was, as they had surmised, the airplane,
but now it was only a mass of twisted and scorched metal. The blazing
plane had set fire to some underbrush but fortunately it was not dry
enough to do more than smoulder. They quickly beat out all that remained
of the fire and then turned their attention to the plane.
“She’s sure one wreck,” Captain Brice said as he surveyed it “I wonder
what has become of the man.”
Just then Jack, who was standing on the opposite side saw a foot
sticking out from beneath one of the twisted wings.
“Here he is,” he called.
Captain Brice and the farmer quickly came around to that side and the
two held up the wing while Jack pulled the man out.
“He’s dead, of course,” the Captain said as he placed his hand over his
heart.
Several of the cases of whiskey had been broken open by the fall but a
number remained unharmed.
“Care to keep one or two of them as souvenir,” the Captain asked the
farmer.
“Wouldn’t have the pesky stuff round the house. I hain’t got no use fer
it.”
“Nor I,” and the Captain dragged the jugs from the machine and smashed
them with a rock.
Fortunately the dead man was light and between them they managed to
carry him out to the car. They then drove into Jackman and left him with
the local undertaker explaining the circumstances. On their return the
farmer refused to accept a cent of pay.
“I’m glad enough ter git them fellers out of the way. They’re sure a bad
lot,” he declared.
When they proposed going to the hotel in town for the night both the
farmer and his wife insisted on their staying with them.
“I reckon we can make yer comfortable,” he declared and seeing that he
really wanted them to stay they gladly consented.
“How would you like to take a little ride in my flivver?” the Captain
asked after they had eaten supper.
“Now that’s mighty good of you,” the farmer replied. “But I reckon not.
I don’t care how far up I git jest so one fut stays on the ground, but I
hain’t ready ter become an angel not jest yet,” and they all, including
Mrs. Smith, laughed.