LINK AND THE BIG KITE
But with all their wishes to do something for Andrew Akers, Joe and
his chums were unable to make a move in that direction, for the simple
reason that they knew not in which way to begin. They paid another
visit to Cresco, and had a talk with Joel Runnell, and with his
daughter Cora, who had come back, and even visited the police station,
yet all to no purpose.
“We are doing what we can to locate the man,” said the chief of police.
“But so far we have no trace of him. I think he has left these parts
entirely.”
One day Fred went to Springfield, taking Harry along, and stopping at
his aunt’s home as before for dinner. The two walked past the novelty
and the plow places, but saw nothing of Thomas Mason or Lamar Chase.
They also visited the authorities and a place at which Andrew Akers had
boarded before or after leaving Bralham. The police knew nothing about
the man, and his boarding mistress said that a trunk of his clothing
was still at her place and she did not know what to do with it.
“He was a queer stick,” said the woman. “Sometimes I thought he was a
bit off here,” and she tapped her forehead.
“Perhaps he was,” admitted Fred. “I wish we could find him, for it is
quite important.”
“And I wish he would send for his trunk and things,” responded the
woman.
“Is there any mail here for him?” questioned Harry.
“No, he didn’t get his mail here. I think he had a lock box at the
post-office, but I am not sure.”
This gave the boys a new idea, and they visited the post-office. Here,
after considerable formality, they learned that Mr. Akers’s mail was
being held for him and had been so held for a long time, by request.
“But it will go to the dead letter office soon, if he doesn’t come for
it, or if the police don’t use it to try to get some trace of him,”
said a clerk.
In the meantime the mystery concerning the disappearance of Si Voup
and Ike Boardman had come to an end, so far as the general public was
concerned. The two rich boys were home once more, although when they
had returned only their folks knew. The motor boat was at the dock and
was much scratched up, as if it had seen rough usage.
“Wonder where they have been?” said Link, when he and Harry and Matt
met Si and Ike on the street. “I understand they are as mum as an
oyster about it.”
“In that case you may be sure that they got into some kind of trouble,”
was Harry’s comment.
“Have you seen anything of the two men they took out?” questioned Matt.
“No, they don’t seem to be around,” returned the carpenter’s son.
The Westmore boys and their chums were as enthusiastic as ever to learn
how to fly, and every day during the following week they took lessons
from James Slosson. He proved a good instructor, and announced that the
Westmore boys and Fred and Link were good pupils. Over Bart, however,
he shook his head.
“I don’t believe you like it very much,” he said. “And if you don’t,
you had better not try it alone.”
“I don’t think I will,” answered the big youth. “When I go up it can be
as a passenger;” and so it was arranged.
The coming of the biplane to Lakeport had created much excitement, and
as was to be expected the boys of the town were especially enthusiastic
over it. This led Mr. Rush to lay in a supply of model aeroplanes and
also supplies for making them, and soon the lads were buying these
models, which were from two to three feet in size and run by the aid of
rubber bands, tightly twisted. The boys even got up contests, to see
which model could fly the farthest. Some went a distance of several
hundred feet, and one,--a particularly well balanced biplane,--covered
nearly eight hundred feet. Then Paul Shale got some air-tight silk
and made a model dirigible balloon, with a car at the bottom and a
propeller also run by rubber bands, and this sailed through the air one
day half-way to Glasby’s Hill,--more than a mile and a half.
“Tell you what!” cried Paul, enthusiastically. “Sailing these models is
almost as much fun as sailing the real thing.”
“And a heap safer,” added Frank Pemberton, with a grin.
At last came the all-important day when the boys who held an interest
in the _Skylark_ were to try to fly the biplane without the aid of
their instructor. Straws had been drawn, and it fell to Harry to make
the first attempt.
“Now don’t go too high, Harry,” cautioned Joe. “And remember to keep
over the lake if possible. But don’t take too short a turn trying to
do it.”
The flying machine was carefully examined once more and the engine was
given a trial. Then the younger Westmore took his seat. He was to go up
alone.
Perhaps Harry’s heart was “in his throat” as the saying goes, but if
so, he did not show it. He tried to keep cool, and his “getaway” from
the grassy field was perfect. Then with a loud popping of the motor the
_Skylark_ arose to a height of about seventy-five feet and sailed out
over Pine Lake.
“Good for him!” shouted Fred, enthusiastically. “I guess Harry is a
born aviator.”
All watched with deep interest the course of the biplane. It had been
arranged that these initial flights should be of short duration--a
single flight across the lower end of the lake and back. On and on flew
the machine, in a straight course. Then came a broad turn, and the
biplane drew towards the starting-point, and in a minute more came down
almost at the spot from which it had arisen.
“How did it feel?” questioned several of the lads, as Harry stepped out
on the ground. His face was somewhat pale and it was easy to see that
the young aviator had been under a considerable strain.
“Oh, it was all right,” Harry answered. “But a chap has got to get used
to it before he will feel at home.”
Fred’s trial came next, and he did the same thing that Harry had done,
although he came down with something more of a bump, which, however,
did no damage.
“Now it’s your turn, Joe!” cried his brother. “Don’t attempt to fly to
New York or Chicago.”
“Nothing less than Hong Kong for me,” answered the older Westmore boy,
as he took his seat in the biplane.
Once more the motor went off with a bang, and the propellers whirled
around. Over the ground started the _Skylark_. But instead of moving
in the course previously taken, one of the wheels struck a rock in the
field and this sent the flying machine off to the left.
“Hello, he’s headed for the boathouse!” yelled Fred.
“He’ll be smashed up!” cried Matt.
Over the field tore the biplane, gathering speed at every second of
the advance. All who were watching were in an agony of mind, fully
expecting to see the machine hit the boathouse. Now it was less than a
hundred feet away.
“There he goes!” yelled Link, and as he spoke the biplane commenced to
rise. Joe had shifted the elevation rudder and up shot the _Skylark_ at
a sharp angle, the wheels underneath missing the boathouse roof by less
than a foot. Then the machine continued to go up until it had reached
a height of over two hundred feet, when the young aviator managed to
bring it to a level keel.
“Say, that was a narrow escape!” murmured Harry. His face was white,
for he had expected to see the _Skylark_ and Joe smashed to pieces.
“So it was,” answered Fred. “No use in talking, a fellow can’t be too
careful in this business.”
“That wasn’t Joe’s fault, Fred.”
“Well, we ought to have noticed that rock.”
“That is true.”
All watched Joe’s flight closely. He now had the _Skylark_ under
perfect control, and he made the flight across the lake and back with
ease. When he came down he took a long glide, coming to earth almost as
lightly as a feather.
“That was some volplaning for you!” cried Fred, who had picked up the
expression from James Slosson. “That come-down was as good as Slosson
ever did.”
“Joe, weren’t you scared, when you were headed for the boathouse?”
asked Fred.
“I didn’t have time to get scared,” was the answer. “I just knew I had
to do something, or the machine would hit and I’d be hurt. So I gave
the elevation control a quick yank, and up we sailed like a streak. Of
course I couldn’t have done that if I hadn’t had a good headway.”
“Well, now it’s my turn,” said Link. “I hope I have as good luck as you
fellows,” he added, as he looked the biplane over.
“The main thing is to keep cool and act quickly,” answered Fred. “If a
chap loses his head it’s all up with him.”
The biplane was rolled out in a position where the course would be free
from obstructions, and Link took his seat and told the others to start
up the propellers.
In the meantime, some other boys of the town had come down to the
field, to see the flights and also to fly some model aeroplanes and
several kites. One kite in particular, owned by a boy named Frank
Berry, was a very large affair, made of paper muslin painted to
represent a clown.
“Hello! there’s some kite!” remarked Harry, as the big affair went
skyward.
“It sure is,” responded Matt. “And what a funny figure on it--just like
a circus clown!”
There had been hardly any breeze, but now came a sudden puff, just as
the _Skylark_ rushed over the field with Link in the seat. The wind
took the big kite and sent it upward.
The Westmore boys and their chums were watching the biplane and for the
moment paid no further attention to the big kite. Up into the air shot
the _Skylark_ and Link seemed to have it well under control. It left
the field and started out over the water. Then Fred uttered a cry.
“Look! look! The kite is right in front of the biplane!”
“Hi! hi! you!” yelled the owner of the kite. “Don’t run my clown down!”
“As if Link could hear him!” said Harry. “Why he couldn’t hear a
gunshot--with that motor banging in his ears!”
“O my!” came from Joe, and as he uttered the words all on the ground
saw the _Skylark_ swoop into the big kite. The wheel of the flying
machine struck first and then the kite went to pieces, scattering over
the biplane and hanging fast there.
[Illustration: THEN THE KITE WENT TO PIECES, SCATTERING OVER THE
BIPLANE AND HANGING THERE.]
“Oh, I hope Link wasn’t hurt!” cried Harry. “Maybe he got it right in
the face!”
“He’s got control anyway,” returned his brother. “I hope the kite
didn’t get mixed up in the levers, or wires, or the engine,” he added,
anxiously.
All watched the flight of the biplane with increased interest. The
machine was too far away to ascertain, even with a field glass which
Fred had brought along, whether the carpenter’s son was hurt or not. On
and on it flew, straight across the lake and then over the woods beyond.
“He ought to be turning back now,” said Harry, a moment later.
“Well, he doesn’t seem to be doing it,” answered Paul.
“No, he is keeping straight on.”
“Perhaps he wants to show us how far he can fly,” suggested another.
“I don’t think he’d do that,” answered Joe, soberly. “We agreed to make
short flights only.”
“Oh, Joe, do you think----” began Harry in alarm.
“Wait and watch,” interrupted the brother.
All waited and saw the _Skylark_ sailing further and further away in
the distance. They could no longer hear the explosions from the motor.
The flying machine, instead of turning back, kept straight ahead and
appeared to be moving further skyward.
“Do you know what I think?” burst out Fred, at last. “That kite got
mixed up in the wires and things, and Link has lost control!”
“That must be it!” exclaimed Harry. “Oh, Joe, what shall we do?”
“I don’t know,” responded the brother. “I don’t know that we can do
anything, except to go after him.”