WARNED AWAY
“Well,” observed Bob, after an eloquent silence, during which knives
and forks had been industriously plied. “Now I’m ready to talk
business. When do you think we can go to that meet, Jerry?”
“As soon as we like, or, rather, as soon as it opens, which isn’t for
two weeks.”
“Will you try for a prize?” asked Ned.
“I don’t see why we can’t,” was the opinion of the tall lad. “I
wish they had some water there, so we could do some stunts with our
hydroplanes, as we did when we rescued Mr. Jackson. That was a trip
worth taking.”
“It sure was,” agreed his chums. “Maybe we can soon take another like
it.”
And they fell to talking of their adventures in the past, and of those
hoped for in the future.
While they are thus engaged I will take the opportunity of telling you
something more about the boys, for I may not get another chance, as
they are such rapid-fire chaps. Those of you who have read the previous
books in the series need no introduction to the motor boys, but new
readers may wish to be formally presented to them.
The boys were Jerry Hopkins, the son of Mrs. Julia Hopkins, a wealthy
widow, Bob Baker, whose father, Andrew Baker, was a prominent banker,
and Ned Slade. Ned’s father, Mr. Aaron Slade, owned a large department
store. The boys had been chums ever since they were in the primary
school, and when they were old enough to have motorcycles their
friendship was more than ever firmly cemented, for they had many
adventures together, as told in the first volume of this series,
entitled “The Motor Boys.” Later they got an auto, and made a long trip
overland, and some time afterward, in company with Professor Uriah
Snodgrass, they went to Mexico to discover a buried city.
Coming home from Mexico across the plains they had more adventures.
With some money they had made in a gold mine they had located, they
bought a fine motor boat, and in that they spent many pleasant hours.
The fifth volume of our series, entitled “The Motor Boys Afloat,”
details some of them. In their craft the _Dartaway_, they took quite
a trip along the Atlantic coast, and also down in the everglades of
Florida. Later they voyaged on the Pacific ocean, in search of a
mysterious derelict.
But staying on the earth, or afloat on the water did not long content
our heroes. Airships were coming more and more into prominence, and it
was not long before our friends had a fine motorship called the _Comet_.
You will find this air-craft fully described in the ninth volume of the
series, entitled “The Motor Boys in the Clouds,” so I will not take up
space to tell of it here. Sufficient to say that it was a combination
of a dirigible balloon and an aeroplane, and could sail for many miles
without coming down. In it our friends had many adventures, nearly
always accompanied by Professor Snodgrass, who was an enthusiastic
collector of bugs, reptiles, and scientific specimens of various kinds,
for a museum.
It was not always easy sailing for our heroes, for in their town of
Cresville, not far from Boston, there lived a bully, Noddy Nixon by
name, who with his crony, Bill Berry, made much trouble for them. But
our friends generally got the best of Noddy in the end.
The motor boys made a long trip over the Rockies in their motorship,
and helped to rescue a band of white persons who were held captives by
a strange tribe of Indians. Later, Jerry and his chums, as told in the
eleventh book of the series made a flight over the ocean, and succeeded
in rescuing a Mr. Jackson, who with some friends and a crew were
unconscious in a dirigible balloon that had become disabled at sea.
Mr. Jackson, as told in the story “The Motor Boys Over the Ocean,” was
being sought by Mr. Slade, to aid him in his department store business,
which was on the verge of failure. And Ned and his chums rescued Mr.
Jackson just in time, not only to save his life, but to prevent the
ruin of Mr. Slade’s business.
The boys had been back from this trip over the ocean some time now,
and, after a winter spent at their studies, they were, with the arrival
of summer, ready for fresh adventures.
They had been out for a spin in their auto when the events narrated in
the first chapter took place, and now we will resume their acquaintance
in the hotel where they are just finishing dinner.
“Well, shall we go on?” asked Jerry, as he and his chums arose from the
table.
“Oh, let’s sit around a while and rest,” proposed Bob. “It’s bad for
digestion to hustle around right after a meal.”
“There’s nothing the matter with _your_ digestion,” declared Jerry with
a laugh. “But I guess it won’t hurt us to sit around a bit. Who’s got
that paper about the aviation meet?”
“Here it is,” replied Bob, passing it to his tall friend.
“I see you are interested in airships,” remarked the hotel clerk, for
the lads were talking in front of the desk where they had paid for
their meal. “We have other guests here today who are what you call
‘birdmen’ I guess.”
“What, some aviators here?” exclaimed Ned, and he and his two chums
showed the interest they felt.
“Who are they?” demanded Jerry. “I didn’t see any one in the dining
room that I’ve ever met in a dirigible or aeroplane.”
“Well, perhaps these fellows are amateurs, but they came sailing here
all right in one of those air machines--I don’t know enough about ’em
to tell whether or not it’s a dirigible balloon or a monoplane,” said
the clerk with a laugh. “But they’re here.”
“Who are they?” asked Jerry again.
“Those two dark-complexioned men standing over near the door,” replied
the clerk, nodding his head in that direction.
“What? Not Brown and Black?” exclaimed Ned.
“I think those are their names,” went on the clerk, as he looked at the
register. “We had quite a crowd here to-day--yes, it’s Brown and Black
all right, though I don’t know which is which.”
“Brown and Black,” mused Jerry. “I never heard of their doing any great
stunts in a dirigible balloon or aeroplane.”
“No, they’re only amateurs, they told me that when they arrived,” went
on the clerk. “They came out from Boston, and are going back soon. It’s
a trial flight for them.”
“Where’s their machine?” asked Bob eagerly.
“Yes, could we get a look at it?” put in Jerry.
“I don’t know,” spoke the clerk doubtfully. “They told me they didn’t
want to be bothered with a crowd, and they stored their machine in an
enclosed lot back of the carriage sheds. There is a high fence all
around it, and the gate is locked. But as long as you boys are air
navigators yourselves I guess Mr. Brown and Mr. Black won’t mind if I
let you look at their machine. They are busy talking now, anyhow, so
you can slip out and take a peep at it. Here’s the key to the gate. Go
out this back door, down the alley, and open the first gate you come
to. Don’t let any one else in.”
The boys eagerly promised, and making sure that the two strange men
were deep in a conversation, our friends slipped out of the hotel rear
door, Jerry taking the key.
“Who’d ever think those fellows were birdmen?” asked Bob, as they went
along.
“No one,” agreed Ned. “There’s something mysterious about them. Why are
they so afraid of any one seeing their machine?”
“Give it up,” answered Jerry. “We’ll soon have a peep at it, and
perhaps we can tell then. But I don’t blame them for not wanting a
lot of farmers crowding around when they’re trying to land or make a
flight. You know what trouble we’ve had at times.”
“That’s right,” agreed Ned. “Well, there’s the gate in the fence. Now
for a look.”
In the midst of a small enclosure they saw the air machine--a
large-sized biplane of an up-to-date model. It took but a glance to
disclose this, and with expressions of admiration the boys hurried up
to it, to inspect it more carefully.
“Say, that’s a beaut all right!” declared Bob.
“Some class to it,” exclaimed Ned. “Look at that engine! Why it’s
almost as powerful as the first one we had.”
“Yes, it’s a good machine--of its kind,” admitted Jerry. “Of course it
isn’t like ours, but it’s got a lot of speed and power, I’ll wager. And
look at that gasolene tank. Why they could go several hundred miles
with one filling.”
“The _Silver Star_,” read Bob, as he saw the name of the aeroplane
painted on one of the side planes, and on the vertical rudder. “Rather
a classy name; eh?”
“It sure is a good machine,” went on Jerry, as he took in the various
details. “I wonder if those fellows--Brown and Black--made it
themselves, or who did? There are some points about it that are worth
copying, if they aren’t patented.”
“Let’s ask ’em,” proposed Bob.
Jerry did not answer. He was looking at the double seat of the
aeroplane--for it was built to carry two--and near one of the
improvised chairs was a small box, evidently for tools.
The cover of the box was partly raised, and with pardonable curiosity
Jerry tilted it all the way back. He was anxious to see all the details
possible of the machine that had so interested him and his chums.
As he got a glimpse inside the tool box Jerry uttered a half-suppressed
cry of astonishment.
“Look here, fellows!” he exclaimed. “See these queer tools? First time
I ever knew an aeroplane operator to carry anything like them.”
“What are they?” asked Bob, peering over his chum’s shoulder.
“Why here’s a powerful drill, some lead hammers, another of copper, and
a drill, to be attached to an electric light circuit. And here’s some
sort of a fusing torch, to melt or fuse a hole through steel. What in
the world can they want with these tools in an aeroplane?”
“Maybe they’re afraid of a break-down,” suggested Ned.
“What good would an electric drill or a fusing torch do even if they
did get a break-down?” demanded Jerry. “No, there’s something queer
here, and----”
“Hi there! Get away from that machine!”
“Clear out, you fellows! What are you doing there?” interrupted two
angry voices, and our heroes looked up to see the two men--Brown and
Black--running towards them across the enclosed field.