THE CABIN IN THE WOODS
The _Skylark_ had been run to the far end of the level field, so that
Joe could get a good start. He went up with ease and was pleased to
find that even above the woods that lay beyond there was little breeze,
and that he had to face what there was squarely. This would make the
flight a little longer in duration, but sailing would be quite safe,
for an aircraft keeps up against a wind just as does a kite attached to
a string.
“Now for the sloop!” cried Paul, when Joe was well under way. “Let us
try to beat him out!”
“You’ll not be able to do that,” answered Fred. “But come on,” he
added. “No use in our staying here.” And bidding the folks of the farm
good-by, the boys mounted the bicycles and were off.
Joe sailed along slowly, and as the motor worked well and the biplane
was under perfect control, he had more or less of an opportunity of
looking around and below him. Far ahead he could see the water of Pine
Lake, sparkling brightly in the sunshine.
“Flying will certainly be great, when a fellow gets used to it,” he
mused. “Traveling on the ground seems slow after this sort of thing.
Why, if I had a mind to do it, I guess I could whizz back to Lakeport
in no time! But I won’t run any risks just yet.”
He was soon over the woods, and then he had to mount a bit higher, to
cross over a little hill. Then came some farms and then more woods, on
the outskirts of Rockton.
“I guess I won’t risk sailing over that village just yet,” went on the
young aviator to himself. “I’ll veer a little to the south. I’m sure I
can do that readily enough.”
He pulled on the lever, and turned the wheel a trifle, and soon the
biplane was moving over the new course. The aircraft had tilted a
little, but he soon brought her to an even keel. Then he moved over
another patch of woods, reaching presently a cleared space,--the result
of a fire of years before.
On one edge of the clearing was a hut that in the past had been
occupied by lumbermen. As Joe drew closer to the hut he saw two men
come forth and walk towards a roadway that ran through the woods. He
gazed at the men in much astonishment.
“Mr. Mason and Mr. Chase, unless I am very much mistaken!” he murmured
to himself. “What can those two men be doing in this out-of-the-way
spot?” Then of a sudden his thoughts traveled to Andrew Akers, and to
the strange disappearance of that individual. “Can they have gotten him
away in some manner and brought him here?”
The thought filled the elder Westmore boy with excitement, and for the
instant he forgot about the running of the biplane. The flying machine
veered around and brought him to his senses with a jerk. Then he got
control again and came around in a quarter circle, to save himself from
falling. This gave him another idea.
“I might as well go all the way around, and see if I can see them
again,” he mused. “I might have been mistaken.”
He made the circle in fine style and then came onward at a reduced rate
of speed. He saw the two men in the roadway, one holding the head of a
horse attached to a two-seated carriage. Both were gazing up in wonder
at the biplane, so that he got an excellent view of their faces.
“Mason and Chase, beyond a doubt!” he told himself, as he swept over
the pair. “Can it be possible that Mr. Akers is in that cabin, a
prisoner?”
For an instant Joe had an idea of alighting in the field and
questioning the men. But then he came to the conclusion that this might
not be a wise move to make.
“They are two to one, and if they really carried Mr. Akers off they
must be desperate characters, and they wouldn’t hesitate to attack me,
if I tried to corner them. No, I had better get back and tell father
and Mr. Rush of this, and also the fellows, when they arrive. Then we
can talk it over and decide on what will be best to do.”
So Joe kept on and in a very few minutes he reached the shore of Pine
Lake. Not far off was the sloop in which he and his chums had crossed.
Out in the lake was a motor boat, racing towards the sloop at top speed.
“Hello! what can that mean?” Joe asked himself, and then he saw that
the craft was that belonging to Si Voup. Si was accompanied, as usual,
by Ike.
Joe felt that the pair would bear watching, and so he changed his
course so that the _Skylark_ would pass directly over the motor boat.
Si and Ike looked up at him and their faces showed their displeasure.
“Humph! There comes Link back!” growled the rich bully.
“It isn’t Link, it’s Joe Westmore,” replied Ike.
“Wonder where Link is?”
“I don’t know. But say, Si, we’d better not bother with that sloop
now,” went on the bully’s toady. “Those fellows will be back as soon as
they see the flying machine coming.”
“All right, Ike,” answered Si. “But it’s too bad. I thought we’d have
a chance to cast the _Sprite_ adrift. Then they would have to look for
some other means of getting back to Lakeport.” And then the motor boat
was headed up the lake.
When Joe reached the field adjoining Lakeport a crowd came rushing to
meet him, including Mr. and Mrs. Darrow, who had learned but a short
while before of the long flight taken by their son.
“Where is Link? Is he safe?” cried Mrs. Darrow, anxiously.
“Perfectly safe, Mrs. Darrow,” answered Joe. “He is coming back with
the other boys, on my bicycle and Paul’s sloop.”
“But is he badly hurt? Did he fall?” demanded Mr. Darrow.
“He isn’t hurt a bit, not a bit,” Joe hastened to answer. “He went
about five miles, I guess, and came down as nicely as you please.”
“But that kite? I heard a big kite got tangled up in the machine----”
went on the carpenter.
“So it did, and it bothered Link a good deal, so he couldn’t turn back
as he wanted to. But he made an all-right landing in a big field out
towards Crowell’s Corners.”
“As far as that!” gasped Mrs. Darrow. “O my! Was ever there such a
daring boy!”
“We had to fix up the machine a bit,” went on Joe. “And then it was
decided that I should sail her back. That’s all there is to it. Link
and the others will be here in the _Sprite_ before long,--although
they’ll have to tack over, against the wind.”
Inside of an hour the sloop came into view, tacking across Pine Lake,
as Joe had mentioned. Leaving the biplane in charge of some other boys,
the Westmore lad hurried down to meet his brother and his chums. Link
ran off to assure his folks that he was all right, and Joe called the
others to one side and told them about Thomas Mason and Lamar Chase.
“Sure, we’ll have to tell dad about that, and Mr. Rush, too!” cried
Harry. “Let us do it right away.” And he led the way to his father’s
place of business.
Mr. Westmore listened gravely to the story and then went with the
boys to interview Mr. Rush. All agreed that the matter ought to be
investigated, and in the end Mr. Westmore and Fred’s father said they
would accompany the boys that afternoon.
“We can go over in the _Sprite_,” said Mr. Westmore, after consulting
Paul. “Then you can go to the hut on your wheels, if you wish, and Mr.
Rush and I will get Mr. Martin, who lives near the landing, to let us
hire a team from him. But we must all keep together, so that we can
come to each other’s assistance--should there be trouble.”
This pleased the boys, and they could hardly wait for the time to come
when they were to depart. But both of the merchants had matters to
attend to before leaving, so they did not get away until after three
o’clock in the afternoon.
The trip across the lake was uneventful, and arriving on the other
shore, Mr. Westmore readily got the farmer he had mentioned to harness
his horses and turn them over to him. Then off the party started, the
men in the carriage and the boys ahead on their bicycles.
“Oh, I do hope we find Mr. Akers!” exclaimed Harry, as he and the other
lads pedaled along.
“I hope we catch that man, Mason, and that Chase with him,” came from
Fred.
“Mr. Akers may not have been carried off,” said Joe. “He may have gone
of his own free will.”
“Do you think he did?” demanded the stout youth.
“No, I don’t. But it is possible, Fred.”
“I think those two men are in league with each other, to do Mr. Akers
harm,” said Harry. “They might not hurt him personally, but I think
they want his inventions and his stock in that novelty company.”
“And that’s my idea too, from what you have told me,” added Paul.
Joe had to point out the way to the lonely hut, and once he came close
to getting on the wrong road. But at last they came in sight of the
burnt-over locality and the older Westmore lad pointed out the rude
cabin.
“Doesn’t seem to be anybody around just now,” was Mr. Rush’s comment,
as all came to a halt, at the spot where Joe had seen the men with the
horse and buggy.
The horse was tied to a tree and the bicycles left near by, and all
advanced towards the lonely cabin. Joe and Harry could not resist the
temptation to go ahead.
“Looks as if it was locked up,” murmured the younger Westmore lad, as
he gazed at the closed window and door.
“We’ll soon know,” answered his brother, and knocked sharply on the
door. There was no response and he knocked again, and as he did this
the others of the party came up.
“Maybe we’re sold!” cried Fred, and walked over to the window. One of
the panes of glass was gone and he looked inside the place. “Not a soul
in sight,” he announced. “Try the door, Joe.”
The barrier was not locked, and opening it one after another all
went inside. They saw a number of newspapers scattered on the floor,
and also some string. On the open hearth was a big heap of ashes.
A cupboard held a few old dishes and some rusty tinware. The hut
contained two rooms--that for living purposes having a rude table and
two benches and an inner apartment being furnished with several rude
built-in bunks.
“The ashes are still hot!” cried Paul, after testing them. “That shows
somebody was here not long ago.”
“Two of the bunks have fresh pine boughs in ’em,” announced Joe. “That
shows somebody has been sleeping here.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t prove that Mr. Akers was here,” returned Harry,
and his face showed his disappointment.
“Look at these bits of newspaper and string,” said Fred. “They look to
me as if somebody had wrapped up things in a hurry and gotten out.”
All walked through the cabin, examining the contents with care. But
no clew to those who had occupied it was brought to light. Evidently
if Mr. Mason and Mr. Chase had been there they had taken good care to
conceal that fact.
“But I saw ’em--I am positive of that,” declared Joe. “And they saw me.”
“That’s just it, Joe,” declared Fred. “They saw you, and they knew you
might investigate. So, if they really had Mr. Akers here, they got
busy and lost no time in removing him and his belongings to some other
locality.”
“Who owns this place?” asked Mr. Rush.
“The Tarpon estate used to own it,” answered Mr. Westmore. “But I think
it was sold. We can ask Mr. Martin about it, when we drive back. I
don’t think there is any use of remaining here. Whoever was staying
here has gone, and I don’t think they’ll be back.”
A little later all left the cabin and turned back towards the lake
shore. The horse and carriage were delivered to the farmer who had
hired them out and he was asked about the place that had been visited.
“Why, I can’t tell you exactly who bought that tract of land,” he said.
“I understood at first it was some man named Acorn, or something like
that, and that he was going to build a house there, where he could be
alone, so as to invent things. But later on I heard that Thomas Mason,
of Brookside, had it. What he is going to do with it, I don’t know.”
“Acorn?” cried Harry. “Don’t you mean Akers?”
“Yes, that’s the name of the tudder fellow, Akers. But he ain’t got the
land now. It belongs to Mason,” returned Mr. Martin.