IN WHICH SOME OLD ENEMIES APPEAR
“But, mother, we learned how to run the automobile, and see what dandy
times we have had in it,” said Joe.
“Yes, Joe; but an automobile is not a flying machine. Why, they aren’t
safe! Only yesterday I was reading about a German birdman, as they call
them, falling and killing himself.”
“But people get killed in autos,” put in Harry. “And look at us--we
came through all right.”
“Flying through the air isn’t running a touring car,” remarked Laura.
“No! no! boys, you must not think of flying,” cried Mrs. Westmore. “It
is too risky. Sell the biplane and buy something else. Why, even a
motor boat isn’t as bad as a flying machine, although they occasionally
blow up, or go on the rocks.”
“But if we were very careful, you wouldn’t mind our taking little
trips, would you?” pleaded Harry. “I mean just around the open fields,
where the ground was soft.”
“O dear, Harry, I can see your heart is set on flying!” sighed his
mother. “But you mustn’t. Try to think of something else.”
“She’ll come around--sooner or later--she always does!” whispered Joe,
as he pulled his brother aside. “Don’t say any more now. Wait until we
have the flying machine here, and get it in working order.”
“But, Joe, we won’t be able to run it without instructors. Why, I’ve
read that they have regular schools of aviation in some of the big
cities.”
“I know that. I don’t know what we’ll do. We’ll have to decide on that
later--when we are sure the machine is usable. Remember, it may be so
wrecked--the motor, I mean--as to be useless.”
“That’s true. But I trust it is O. K.,” added Harry, hopefully.
It was about nine o’clock when the two Westmore boys heard a well-known
whistle outside. They ran out on the porch, to see Fred standing there,
accompanied by Paul Shale.
“Hello!” cried Paul. “I understand you fellows are now the owners of an
up-to-the-minute flying machine,” and he smiled broadly.
“Oh, Joe, Harry!” burst out Fred. “What do you think I just heard as
we were coming past the Voup place? Si and Ike Boardman were talking
about a flying machine they and some others had found in the woods!”
“Was it our machine?” demanded Harry.
“I don’t know. They were getting ready to go out in their touring car
and I only caught a few words. Paul heard more than I did. I thought I
had best come right over and tell you.”
“Si said they’d go over in the morning early and get the flying
machine,” said Paul. “Ike was to furnish some tackle and other things,
and Dick Shallow and Tom Powers were to go along.”
“Shallow and Powers,” murmured Joe. He knew the fellows to be men
employed at a garage in Brookside. One was a machinist and the other a
washer, and both were fellows not to be trusted.
“How do you suppose they found the biplane?” said Harry.
“I don’t know. They may have watched it come down from a distance and
then hunted for it,” answered Fred.
“Well, if it’s our machine they are after, they shall not touch it,”
said Joe, firmly. “Did you tell ’em it was our machine now?”
“I hadn’t time--they got in the car before I could make up my mind
what to do. I didn’t want to have another row with Si and Ike.”
“The best thing we can do is to get away early to-morrow, and head them
off,” cried Harry. “Let us start at daybreak. It will give us so much
longer to work on the biplane anyhow.”
Fred was willing to do this, and he agreed to tell Link, while Paul
said he would tell Bart. Paul also said he would like to go along and
help get the machine from the treetops, and said he thought Matt Roscoe
would like to go, too.
“All right, the more the better,” answered Joe, who felt that the task
ahead would be no easy one.
It had been decided to go in the touring car, taking the ropes and
blocks along, and also a number of tools. If the machine had to be
moved after getting it to the road, Link was to go to Lakeport and get
his father’s wagon and team of horses.
It can well be imagined that none of the boys slept much that night.
All waited anxiously for daylight, that they might begin operations and
head off any move by Si Voup and his followers.
“It would be just like Si to claim the machine,” said Joe. “He would
say that ‘finding was keeping.’”
“But it is our machine--we’ve got that paper to prove it,” answered
Harry. “Joe, you must take good care of that paper.”
“I gave it to father to put in his safe,” returned the older Westmore
youth.
The boys were astir by five o’clock, and inside of half an hour they
had breakfast. A lunch was put up for them, and off they started in the
touring car, calling for the others on the way, and getting the things
to be taken from Mr. Darrow’s carpenter shop.
“I don’t see anything of Si or Ike,” remarked Fred, as they approached
the home of the rich bully. “They must be in bed yet.”
“Don’t wake them up, Joe,” said Harry, and his brother ran past the
Voup residence as quietly as possible.
It was a beautiful day in August, the sun coming up over the trees as
clear as one could wish. The roads were practically deserted, except by
the occasional wagon of a baker or milkman. Joe “let her out,” as he
expressed it, being as anxious as anybody to reach the spot where the
biplane had been left.
“Hope we don’t have any punctures or blowouts,” remarked Link, as they
sped along.
“Perish the thought!” replied Matt Roscoe. “The only blowout I want
is when the dinner bell rings, and then I want a good one,” and this
sally from the jovial Matt brought forth a general laugh.
On and on over the country road sped the big touring car. Several times
the boys looked back, to see if Si and his friends might be following
them; but no other automobile appeared.
“We got ahead of him that time!” chuckled Fred. “And I am glad of it.
When he comes up, won’t he be surprised!”
At last they reached the spot where they had left the car on the other
trips to Owl Lake. As they had expected, the place was deserted.
“Are you going to leave the car here again?” asked Link. “Aren’t you
afraid Si and Ike will play us some trick, if they come up and find the
auto deserted?”
“I was thinking I might run it out of sight among the bushes,” replied
Joe.
“That’s the talk!” cried Fred. He looked around. “There is a good
spot,” he continued, pointing with his hand.
The touring car was started up on low gear and they ran well in among
the bushes, the boys holding the branches back, that the elegantly
painted body of the automobile might not get scratched. Now that they
were about to return Mr. Corsen’s property to him they wished to make
the best showing possible with it.
Satisfied at last that the touring car would be out of sight and safe
for the time being, all walked towards the spot where the biplane had
come down. They carried the ropes and tools, and as these were heavy,
their progress was necessarily slow.
Harry and Fred stalked on in advance, Joe and the others following with
the heavier things. Suddenly the younger Westmore uttered a cry of
dismay.
“It’s gone!”
“What!” cried those in the rear.
“The flying machine is gone!” burst out Fred. “Si Voup and his crowd
must have taken it!”
At once all the lads dropped the things they were carrying and rushed
forward, to the trees in the tops of which the biplane had been stuck.
It was certainly gone.
“They must have come last night and taken it away!” groaned Link. “Oh,
what luck!”
“They must have known that we were coming for it to-day,” put in Bart.
The boys gazed around with interest. They could see how one tree had
been chopped down, and how some ropes and tackle had been used from
another tree. Then they found several nuts and bolts, indicating that
the machine had been more or less taken apart.
“Wonder where they went with it?” muttered Harry.
“I don’t know, but I am going to find out,” answered Joe, with
determination. “That machine is ours, and they had no right to touch
it!”
“That’s the talk!” cried Fred.
“Here are the marks of some kind of wheels,” said Link, pointing them
out.
“The bicycle wheels on which the biplane rested,” said Bart. “That
crowd must have straightened out the one that was bent. We can follow
that trail easily enough. Come on.”
The others needed no urging, and leaving their tools and things where
they had been dropped, they followed the trail through the woods until
they came out on the border of Owl Lake. Here the trail came to an
abrupt termination.
“I wonder if they floated it off,” suggested Harry.
“It looks like it,” answered his brother. “But if so, where did they
get the boat, or raft, and where did they go to?”
“Let’s circle the lake and watch for more tracks,” said Link. “It isn’t
very big.”
They divided into two parties, one going up the shore and the other
down. Nothing was noticed until Bart, Fred, and Link reached the upper
end of the lake. Then they saw where a raft had been beached, and the
flying machine dragged ashore. At once they set up a shout for their
friends, who came up on a run.
“Here is the trail again, as plain as day!” cried Fred.
“They must have headed for the back road,” remarked Matt. “It is less
than a quarter of a mile from here.”
Through the woods and bushes moved the boys, Joe and Fred in advance.
Just before reaching the back road they caught sight of a small cabin,
where an old man named Freedick lived. Freedick was something of a
hermit and made his living by hunting, fishing, and weaving baskets.
“There she is!” cried Joe, as he pointed to the flying machine, the
various parts of which lay in a heap on the ground.
“Where are the fellows who took it?” asked Bart, gazing around.
“They are in the cabin, getting breakfast!” exclaimed Harry, who had
chanced to glance in through an open doorway.
By this time the noise outside had reached the ears of those in the
cabin. An instant later Si Voup came rushing forth, followed by Ike
Boardman, and the two men, Shallow and Powers.
[Illustration: SI VOUP CAME RUSHING FORTH, FOLLOWED BY IKE BOARDMAN AND
THE TWO MEN.]
“Hi! what do you want here?” demanded the rich bully, as if he did not
know well enough.
“We want our flying machine, that’s what we want, Si Voup,” returned
Joe, sharply.
“Your machine?”
“Yes, our machine,” put in Fred.
“What right had you to touch it?” demanded Harry.
“Well, to hear them talk!” burst out Ike Boardman. “Their flying
machine! If that ain’t rich. Why, you fellows never owned a flying
machine!”
“This is our machine, and I guess you know it,” answered Joe, quietly
but firmly. “It belonged to Mr. Andrew Akers, and he gave it to us.”
“It belongs to us!” bawled Si Voup. “We found it out in the woods,
deserted.”
“That’s right, so we did,” put in Tom Powers.
“When you find a thing it’s yours,--unless the real owner comes to
claim it,” added Dick Shallow.
“Exactly,” agreed Si. “And we found this machine and we are going
to keep it,--at least until the real owner shows up.” And he placed
himself in front of the dismantled biplane and his followers did
likewise.