“HOLD THE TRAIN!”
“What time will the professor get here?” asked Ned, as he and Bob sat
on the broad porch of Mrs. Hopkins’s house.
“On the afternoon train, he says,” replied Jerry.
“And what sort of a bug is he after now?” demanded Bob.
“He doesn’t say. Not that it makes much difference. All is grist that
comes to his mill, and if he can’t get an ant with pink legs, he’ll
take a June bug with purple wings. But be on hand to meet him, fellows,
and we’ll go down to the station together to-morrow afternoon.”
“Say, if he doesn’t get in until then we’ll have time in the morning to
make a flight in the _Comet_,” suggested Bob.
“That’s right. Then we can see what we have to do, to get it in shape
for the Colton meet,” added Ned.
“I’m with you,” declared the tall lad. “Let’s go on out now and have a
look at it. And say--you fellows stay to supper at my house, and we’ll
go all over the _Comet_ this evening.”
“Good idea,” commented Bob, with a sigh of satisfaction. He knew of old
the skill of the Hopkins cook.
“Very good--especially the supper part; eh, Chunky?” put in Ned with a
laugh. “I’ll telephone home, and tell mother that I’m going to stay.”
Bob did the same thing, and after the meal, which Bob declared was
the best he ever ate (though he was always saying that) the boys went
out to the aeroplane shed which was in a large field, owned by Mrs.
Hopkins, and some distance from her house.
“Now Jerry, be careful,” the widow cautioned them as they left. “You
remember once you had trouble at the shed, when Noddy Nixon bound Sud
Snuffles, the watchman, and took the aeroplane away. Look out for bad
characters there. I wish it was nearer the house--especially when night
comes on.”
“Oh, there’ll be no danger from Noddy Nixon to-night mother,” declared
Jerry with a laugh. “Noddy is stuck in the mud too fast to get out
in a hurry,” and he told of the bully’s plight. “But we’ll be on
the lookout. We don’t keep Sud on guard any more.” For following his
unscrupulous theft of the motorship, the bully had been more careful
how he interfered with the property of our heroes, and there was no
necessity of a watchman at the shed.
The boys spent some time going over the motorship. They had not used it
in the past two weeks, on account of bad weather; but they found it in
good shape, and, after a few adjustments and a tightening of the guy
wires, it was ready for service.
“We’ll take a flight in the morning,” decided Jerry, as he and his
chums left the shed, making sure that the doors were securely fastened.
“And maybe we’ll meet that other aeroplane--the _Silver Star_,”
suggested Ned.
“Not much likelihood of that,” declared Bob. “Those fellows are up to
some game, I think.”
“What game?” demanded Jerry quickly.
“Oh, I don’t know,” was the somewhat uncertain reply of the stout lad,
“only I have my suspicions of them.”
“So have I,” admitted Ned, “only I don’t know what I’m suspicious of.”
“Well, I’m going to get to bed,” announced the tall lad with a yawn.
“Be on hand early fellows, and we’ll go off on a little flight.”
Jerry and Ned were on hand in good time at the aeroplane shed the next
morning. They wheeled the craft out into the broad, level starting
place, and proceeded to tighten the few wires they had overlooked the
night before.
As has been told in previous books of this series, the _Comet_ was a
combined dirigible balloon and aeroplane. By means of a powerful gas,
forced into a container above the aeroplane proper, it could ascend as
a balloon, or it could scud along over the ground on bicycle wheels
and, when sufficient momentum had been obtained it could rise by means
of the tilted forward lifting planes, and maintain itself as long as it
was in motion.
“What’s the matter with Bob, I wonder?” remarked Jerry as he went in
the engine room, to look at the motor.
“Oh, probably he’s eating his second breakfast,” replied Ned, who was
inspecting the gas machine.
“She isn’t making vapor very fast,” spoke Jerry, as he looked at the
dial of the containing tank, and noted how much of the lifting gas was
in storage.
“No, it needs a new valve,” decided Ned. “But we can go up as an
aeroplane, and by the time we get up a mile or two there’ll be gas
enough.”
The _Comet_ was a roomy craft. There was a good-sized dining room,
plenty of sleeping apartments, a storeroom, a large motor compartment,
a neat little galley or kitchen, where Bob spent much of his time, and
a living room, where they all gathered during the day to read, talk or
make observations as they scudded through space, high above the earth.
“I wish Bob would come, if he’s going to get here,” went on Jerry. “He
is always more or less late. We won’t have time to get anywhere before
we have to be back again to meet the professor.”
“There he comes now,” exclaimed Ned, as he caught sight of a stocky
figure hurrying across the field. “And by Jove, if he isn’t swallowing
the last of his breakfast on the run! He must have overslept.”
“What’s the matter, Chunky?” asked Jerry, as his chum approached,
panting from his unusual speed.
“One of our rabbits got loose--had to chase it--might eat up the
neighbors’ fruit trees--never saw such a rabbit--thought I had it in
the cage half a dozen times--but it got out--that’s what made me late.”
“But you stopped to get your breakfast,” observed Ned, as he saw traces
of egg on Bob’s fat good-natured face.
“Sure I did! What do you think I am? Going off on a flight without
something to eat! I had a good breakfast, and I brought along a package
of grub--I was afraid you fellows would forget it.”
“Oh, Chunky!” cried Jerry with a hopeless laugh. “Will you ever get
over your appetite?”
“I certainly hope not,” declared Bob earnestly.
He stowed away in a locker the food he had brought, and then helped his
chums in getting the _Comet_ ready for a flight. This was soon done.
The sharp nose of the craft was pointed down the long smooth starting
slope, and the motor started. The big propellers whirred around like
the blades of an electric fan, and the motorship quivered from end to
end. The engine increased its speed under the skilful handling of Jerry
Hopkins, and then, with a rush, the trim air machine glided forward.
Faster and faster it forged ahead, the motor thundering with its rapid
explosions. Just as Jerry was about to tilt the lifting planes, there
came a faint hail from back near the shed.
“Hold on--wait--give me a ride--I’ve got some news!”
“It’s Andy Rush!” exclaimed Ned.
“We can’t stop now!” shouted Jerry. “Here we go!”
He yanked the plane lever toward him. Up went the nose of the _Comet_,
and the next instant she was sailing gracefully through the air,
mounting higher and higher.
“Works better than ever,” was Bob’s opinion.
“Yes, I wish we had time to go to the lake, and try the hydroplanes,”
said Jerry, “but we haven’t. I rather like landing on the water and
starting from the surface. It’s smoother than a land start.”
The hydroplanes, as I related in a previous volume, were a new feature
of the _Comet_, and worked well.
It was no novelty to our heroes to sail about through the air, and
as soon as they were up sufficiently high they settled back to enjoy
themselves. The gas machine had by this time generated enough vapor,
so that they could float lazily along if they wished, or even hang in
space without moving, save as the wind blew them.
“Let’s look around and see if we can sight the _Silver Star_,” proposed
Ned, as he took down from the rack a small but powerful telescope.
“Oh, you’ll have your trouble for your pains,” declared Jerry, and
so it proved. The strange biplane containing the two mysterious men
was not in sight. In fact no other air craft was visible, and, after
sailing around for several hours, and having their lunch about three
miles above the earth, our heroes descended, and stored their craft in
the shed once more.
“Wonder what Andy wanted?” mused Jerry.
“We’ll soon know,” said Bob. “Here he comes now.” The excitable lad was
observed hurrying toward the three chums.
“Why didn’t you wait?” he demanded. “I had something to tell you--great
news--he’ll smash all to pieces--whoop! up in the air--down again--race
you motor boys--whoop!”
“He? Who are you talking about?” demanded Ned.
“Noddy Nixon. He’s going to get an aeroplane and race you fellows--big
excitement--going to some balloon meet--whoop!” and Andy hopped up and
down on one foot.
“Hump! Noddy must be up to some more of his tricks!” exclaimed Jerry.
“Well, if he bothers us as he did once before he’ll get what’s coming
to him.”
“I shouldn’t think he’d want to risk any more air flights,” ventured
Ned, “especially when he can hardly run his auto.”
“Well, we’ll see what happens,” went on the tall chum. “Whew!” he
whistled as he looked at his watch. “We haven’t more than time to get
down to the station before the professor’s train will be in. We don’t
want to disappoint him. Sprint for it, fellows, and we’ll get to my
house and go down in the auto. Come along Andy, if you like.”
“Sure I’ll go--anything for excitement--I can run--let me steer--blow
up a tire--whoop!” and the excitable lad was off on a run with the
older boys.
They reached the station a little before the train pulled in, and
waited on the platform while a crowd of passengers alighted. Among them
was a little man, rather slight in build, wearing a pair of very strong
glasses. He had on a broad-brimmed soft hat, and around his shoulders
and hanging down his back were a number of insect specimen boxes, held
by straps or cords, while in one hand he carried a large butterfly net.
“There’s Professor Snodgrass!” exclaimed Jerry. “Now to hear what new
quest he is on.”
“He looks the same as when he caught the flying-singing fish,” remarked
Ned.
“He never changes--he’s like a mummy,” declared Bob.
The little scientist caught sight of his three young friends, and gaily
waved his hand, smiling a greeting. He advanced to meet them, passing
close to the panting locomotive. As he did so there came two shrill
blasts of the air whistle, indicating to the engineer that he was ready
to start.
At that instant Professor Snodgrass happened to glance beneath the big
driving wheels. In a moment he was all excitement. His face lighted up,
off came his big hat, and, rapidly divesting himself of his many boxes
he dropped on his knees close beside the rails.
“What’s the matter?” cried Jerry.
“He’ll be killed!” yelled Bob.
“Look out!” shouted Ned.
“The man has been taken with a fit! Pull him away from the engine!”
begged the station master.
The professor heeded none of the cries. Raising himself slightly, he
waved his hand to the engineer who, after pulling the throttle partly
open, was leaning from the cab window. The ponderous locomotive was
moving slowly.
“Stop the train! Stop it!” commanded the scientist. “Stop it or
you’ll kill him! Stop it I say!” and he fairly shook his fist at the
astonished engineer.