SOMETHING ABOUT THE BOYS
“I think it came down over there!”
“No, it struck that tree and bounced off in this direction.”
“What do you think it was, Joe?”
“I haven’t the least idea, Fred. I don’t see what such an aviator could
be carrying in a box.”
“Maybe it was a tool box,” suggested Link as he strode on beside his
friends.
“A tool box would be fastened so it couldn’t drop, I think,” replied
Harry. “Well, we’ll soon know. I only hope it wasn’t smashed to pieces
by the fall.”
“Maybe he’ll come back for it,” suggested Joe, as he looked up in the
direction of the biplane.
“Doesn’t look so now,” replied his brother, as the flying machine was
all but lost to sight in the direction of Owl Lake.
“That aviator may not know that he dropped anything--being so busy
looking after the machine,” was Fred’s comment. And then all made
their way into the bushes where they thought the strange object had
dropped.
To the readers of the former volumes in this “Lakeport Series” the
go-ahead lads already introduced will need no special introduction. For
the benefit of others allow me to state that all belonged in the town
of Lakeport, a bustling little place, located at one end of Pine Lake.
In this town the father of Joe and Harry Westmore was the leading grain
merchant, and Fred Rush’s parent kept a hardware store. Link Darrow
was the son of the leading carpenter, while Bart Mason’s father was
interested in various lines of business.
In my first volume, called “The Gun Club Boys of Lakeport,” I told how
Joe, Harry, and Fred organized their club, and how they went forth for
some winter sport in the woods. They took with them old Joel Runnell, a
well-known hunter, and journeyed to Pine Island, near the head of the
lake. Here the lads had a good time generally and incidentally managed
to get the better of a miserly real-estate dealer who was trying to
defraud the Westmore family out of some valuable real estate.
With the coming of summer the thoughts of the lads turned to baseball.
From his father Link got permission to use the upper part of the
carpenter shop for a meeting place, and there the boys organized their
ball club, as related in detail in “The Baseball Boys of Lakeport.”
On this nine, Joe was the pitcher, while Fred was the catcher. Harry
covered first base and Link second, with big Bart on third. A lively
lad named Matt Roscoe was shortstop, and Walter Bannister was left
fielder and Frank Pemberton right fielder. Among the substitutes was
Teddy Dugan, a bright Irish lad, witty and loyal to the last degree.
The lads played some great games, and also had much trouble with their
rivals, Si Voup and his crony, Ike Boardman. Si was rich and a bully,
and he and Ike did some things that came near getting them into trouble
with the authorities.
Not a great many miles from Lakeport was the town of Brookside, and
there some of the boys, led by George Dixon, had organized a boat club.
At once the others caught the “fever.”
“If Brookside can have a boat club, so can we,” declared Harry.
“Sure thing,” returned Paul Shale, whose uncle owned a fine sailboat,
and who often allowed Paul to use the craft. Then came a chance to buy
some shells and other rowing things at a bargain, and how the boys got
the outfit, and how they rowed some great races, has already been
related in “The Boat Club Boys of Lakeport.”
Football is a favorite sport everywhere, and at certain times of the
year the lads of Lakeport found it impossible to keep off the gridiron.
They joined a football league, as related in “The Football Boys of
Lakeport,” being coached by an experienced man named Carl Bellman. They
had an uphill fight for the pennant, and once again their old enemy, Si
Voup, did all in his power to make them lose.
Following the football season had come a winter of hard work in school
for nearly all the boys, livened up only by an outing around the
holidays, when some of them had gone camping and hunting. Then had come
spring, and the lads had wondered what they would do during the summer.
Some wanted to play ball while others wanted to row.
Living on the outskirts of the town was a rich gentleman named Munroe
Corsen. He had a daughter Violet, whom Harry had once saved from the
savage attack of a bull. Later, Violet was abducted by some evil men,
who held her hoping thereby to make Mr. Corsen do what they wanted. The
boys got on the trail of the abductors and saved the girl and restored
her to her parents. For this Mr. and Mrs. Corsen were deeply grateful,
and the gentleman insisted upon aiding the lads in many ways. He had a
fine six-cylinder automobile, and when he and his family left Lakeport
for a tour of Europe he asked Joe Westmore how he would like to have
the use of the car for the time being.
“First-rate!” cried Joe; and a little later the big automobile was
turned over to him and his brother and their friends. As soon as the
boys learned how to run the machine they got up a party for a long
tour, as related in the volume preceding this, entitled “The Automobile
Boys of Lakeport.” They were followed by the envious Si Voup and Ike
Boardman, and these unworthies did all they could, as usual, to spoil
things. But once again the bully and his crony were outwitted, and then
they returned home in disgust.
Following the long tour had come several shorter ones, Joe taking
out the various members of the baseball and football teams, and the
rowing club, and also some others, including his sister Laura and Cora
Runnell, the daughter of the old hunter. Then had come word that the
Corsen family were coming back and he knew that the big touring car
would soon have to be returned to its owner.
“Let us have what fun we can with it,” he said to some of the others,
and then Harry and Fred proposed an all-day tour around the lake. Link
and Bart were invited to go along, and the five lads took with them a
substantial lunch to eat on the way.
For an hour the boys in the automobile had rolled along over the roads,
all enjoying themselves hugely. Then had come the discovery of the
biplane and the aged aviator, the eccentric flying of the machine, and
then the falling of the object into the bushes.
“It certainly struck that tree,” remarked Harry, as he pushed forward.
“See where it broke off two of the smaller limbs.”
“Then it must have bounced off in this direction,” returned his
brother, turning to the right.
“Wow! look out for the thorns!” burst out Fred, who was somewhat stout
and therefore not so well able to get between the bushes.
Joe had noticed the broken tops of some bushes not far from the tree
and thither he made his way. Then he caught sight of a dark, square
object caught between several upright branches, and he uttered a cry:
“There it is!”
“What is it?” queried Link and Bart in a breath.
“A black tin box, the kind they use for bank papers.”
“Oh, maybe it’s got money in it!” gasped Harry.
“How much do you suppose?” panted Fred, trying to worm his way from out
of some bushes where he was stuck.
“I don’t believe there is any money in it,” answered Joe. “What would
that man be doing with a box of money in a biplane?”
“He might be a bank robber,” suggested Link.
“Not that man,” answered Harry. “Why, he was quite old.”
“Well, criminals get old, don’t they?”
By this time Joe had managed to get within reaching distance of the
black tin box. It was tightly wedged between the stalks of the bushes
and he had considerable difficulty in dislodging it. It was scratched
in several places and one side was dented in, but otherwise it was in
good condition.
“What is in it?” asked Link, impatiently, as all gathered around their
leader, for such Joe had always been.
Joe did not answer at once. He turned the box over several times. At
one end were the initials A. A. A.
“Go on and open it, Joe,” put in Fred, who was as impatient as Link.
Indeed all in the crowd were anxious to know what the box contained.
On one side of the box was a tiny keyhole. But the key was missing.
Joe tried in vain to pull up the cover.
“It’s locked,” he said, at last.
“Oh, pshaw! Can’t you open it at all?” pleaded Link.
“Not without a key.”
“Here, try my bunch,” cried Bart, and brought forth a ring full of keys
of various kinds. But none was small enough for that box.
“Have we a right to open the box?” said Harry. “Remember, it belongs to
that aviator.”
“It does if he is Mr. A. A. A.,” put in Fred. “Maybe that stands for
Ancient American Aviators,” he added, and this sally caused a short
laugh.
“Perhaps we had better not try to open it,” said Joe. “It may contain
documents that A. A. A. would not want us to see. We had better look
for that flying machine. He’ll be coming back when he learns that his
box is missing.”
The matter was discussed for a few minutes and the others agreed that
Joe was right. All made their way back to the automobile. There Harry
took the box and shook it.
“Papers of some kind,” he announced. “Papers--or banknotes!”
“Supposing it is full of banknotes, and that fellow never comes back
for it,” cried Link, his eyes glistening. “What a find! We’ll be
entitled to divide, won’t we?”
“Don’t be silly, Link,” replied Harry. “He’ll be back, don’t worry.”
“If he didn’t fall and break his neck,” murmured Bart. “That was sure
the craziest flying I ever heard about.”
Now that the boys were back in the automobile they scarcely knew what
to do. The black tin box was placed in the tonneau.
“I’ll tell you what we might do,” suggested Harry. “We might follow
that side road up to Owl Lake and see if we can spot the biplane around
there. The road is pretty good. I was on it once with a bicycle, with
Paul Shale.”
“What would that aviator be doing at Owl Lake?” asked his brother. “I
don’t believe he could land there--it’s too full of rocks and bushes.”
“Well, he went that way, anyway,” returned the younger Westmore.
The others were in favor of following the road to Owl Lake, and soon
the automobile was on the way, Joe driving the car as before. They had
to proceed slowly, for the road had many turns and was not nearly so
smooth as the highway they had left.
It was a full two miles to the little lake nestling among the hills.
Most of the way was between the trees, but there were some cleared
patches, and when these were gained all in the touring car would look
skyward, hoping for a sight of the flying machine. But not a trace of
the biplane was to be seen.
“Well, here we are,” announced Joe at last, as they came in view of the
water.
“And not a sign of the flying machine,” said Link.
“Are you going back, or going ahead?” questioned Fred.
“I don’t know anything about the road,” answered Joe.
“Humph! I guess it ends here,” cried Harry. “I don’t see any more of
it.” And he was right, the wood road ran no further.
The boys got out and walked along the shore of the lake, and also
scanned the sky. There was no breeze and not a leaf was stirring. It
was extremely quiet.
“If that motor was going we could hear it miles off,” was Bart’s
conclusion. “I reckon we may as well go back.”
“But the box----” began Fred.
“We can take it home,” answered Joe. “I guess that’s the only thing to
do. Maybe that man will advertise for it.”
The automobile was turned around and Joe started to pilot it back to
the main highway. Then of a sudden he brought the machine to a stop and
shut off the power.
“Listen!” he cried and held up his hand.