CHAPTER XXX

THE AERO MEET--CONCLUSION

“Joe, just look at the crowds swarming to the grounds!”

“Seems to me everybody for fifty miles around has come to this

exhibition!” returned the elder Westmore youth.

“And look at the carriages and autos! Say, we’ve got some class!” cried

Bart.

“This is certainly going to be a success from a financial standpoint,”

was George Dixon’s comment. “We’ll take in a good many dollars.”

“I hope everything passes off all right,” put in Harry.

“Well, our biplane is in perfect condition,” said Andy Brown, who had

just been looking the _Swallow_ over.

“So is the _Skylark_,” answered Fred.

It was only one o’clock in the afternoon and already large crowds were

coming into the enclosed field where the aero meet was to be held. A

“parking space” had been set off for automobiles, and the machines

were drawn up in a long line, like so many cannon. The grandstand was

filling up, and it now looked as if every seat would be taken. An even

larger crowd drifted about.

The barns that were now being used as hangars were a great center of

attraction, and the young aviators and their assistants were kept busy

answering questions about their flying machines. Many were present who

had never seen an aircraft at close range, and they looked with awe at

the immense planes, the motors and propellers, and the rudder controls

and ailerons.

“No tellin’ wot we be a-comin’ to,” was the comment of one old farmer.

“I s’pect I’ll be sendin’ taters to market in one of them contraptions

soon!” And this caused a general laugh.

The band was playing gayly when, at a given signal, the two monoplanes

and the two biplanes were wheeled out on the field. Then came a rattle

and a roar, as one motor after another was given a trial.

The first contest, that of starting from a certain line and landing as

near to this as possible, was soon on. For this Link flew the _Skylark_

while Al Lemming managed the _Swallow_, and two other contestants flew

the monoplanes. There were three trials, each counting five points. The

first was won by Brookside, the second by Bralham, and the third by

Lakeport.

“Well, we’re even with ’em anyway,” cried Harry, as Link came up

somewhat crestfallen because he had not done better.

“And Haverford got nothing,” added Fred.

Following this contest came that of “bomb throwing,” as it was called.

The “bombs” consisted of small round bags filled with sand, and they

were to be dropped into white boxes placed on the ground about two

hundred feet part. Fred had been selected to run the _Skylark_ in this

contest and he was given ten of the sandbags, each weighing about a

pound.

“Now do your best, Fred!” cried Joe, when the contest was about to

commence. All four aeroplanes were to sail in a circle around the

course, dropping the bags in the boxes on the way. As each set of bags

was of a different color it would be easy to tell who hit the mark and

who missed.

A cheer arose when the four aircraft went up and commenced to circle

around. Each had to make one complete circle before commencing to drop

the bags.

“There they go! That’s the first bomb!”

“He missed the box!”

“There goes another! That’s in!”

“Two more misses!”

“There go some more in! Say, this is some fun, isn’t it! How would you

like to get one of those bombs on your head, in a battle?”

“Yes, or on the top of your house?”

So the cries ran on as the aeroplanes circled around. The Lakeport boys

saw with satisfaction that Fred had managed to land six of his sandbags

in the boxes. Three had missed their mark. Now came the last, and that

also went into a box.

“Seven out of ten!” cried Harry, enthusiastically. “I don’t believe

anybody else did better than that!”

Then the judges ran forward and looked over the boxes and their

contents.

“Seven for Lakeport, six for Haverford, and four each for Bralham and

Brookside!” was the announcement. “Lakeport wins this contest!”

“Hurrah!” came the cry from the Lakeport boys, and many in the

grandstand waved their flags and banners.

“Now to keep up the good work!” cried one of the lads, as the next

contest was announced. This consisted of trying to catch a number

of toy balloons as they were sent up, one after another, from the

ground--a feat that looks easy, but which is said by many aviators

to be exceedingly difficult. Each balloon captured was to count five

points.

Harry was in the seat of the _Skylark_ and was soon circling the

course, followed by the _Swallow_ and the two monoplanes. Then the

balloons were sent up, at intervals of a minute each--a score in all,

red affairs, about a foot in diameter.

Harry was on the alert, and seeing a balloon in his path made for it.

He thought sure he had it, when presto! the wind from the aircraft

carried the balloon above him, out of his reach.

“Guess I’ll have to go at it more slowly,” he muttered, and headed for

another of the toy balloons. This time he approached just right, and a

second later caught the balloon by the little whip-like stick dangling

beneath. The crowd saw the movement and cheered lustily.

Around and around sailed the four aeroplanes, trying to catch one

balloon after another. Three of the balloons were smashed against the

machines before the aviators could catch them, and several others soon

flew so high that going after them was out of the question. Harry

managed to catch the last balloon that was within reach, and another

cheer arose. Then the flying machines came down again and the judges

announced the result.

“Brookside three, Lakeport two, Bralham one, Haverford none.”

“Hurrah! that gives us fifteen points!” shouted George Dixon.

“And it gives us ten points,” added a Lakeport supporter.

“Poor Haverford wasn’t in it,” said another.

“Oh, those Bartley boys are holding back for the long distance

contest!” said one of their friends.

Several other contests on the grounds followed, and at the conclusion

of these it was found that the points stood as follows:

Brookside 40

Bralham 35

Lakeport 30

Haverford 25

“We are behind!” cried Harry, ruefully. “Joe, you’ll have to win that

long-distance race, to come out ahead.”

“I’ll do my best,” answered the brother.

The first long-distance contest was that between the two monoplanes,

which were to try a flight to Haverford, Bralham, and return. Both

machines got away in good shape, and then the crowd waited impatiently

for their return, the band playing in the meantime, and Joe and his

chums doing all they could think of to put the _Skylark_ in condition

for the other big race.

“Here comes one of the monoplanes!” was the cry at last.

“It’s the Haverford machine!” said a man with a field glass. “The

Bralham flyer is coming, too!” he added, a few seconds later.

A cheering went up, and in the midst of this the Bartley monoplane

arrived, coming down in the center of the aviation field. Three minutes

later the Bralham machine followed.

“The Bartley boys win!” was the cry. “A fine race!”

“And now for our race!” cried Joe, and he and his chums ran the

_Skylark_ into position. The _Swallow_ was already on the line, with

George Dixon to manage the machine.

The flight was to be around the lake, taking in Lakeport, Cresco,

Brookside, and several other points. Both young aviators had the course

well mapped out in their heads.

“Oh, I hope Joe wins!” cried Laura Westmore.

“So do I,” returned Violet Corsen, who sat beside her.

At a given signal the motors of the two biplanes were set going. Up

into the air shot the flying machines, each headed straight for the

end of the lake. A faint breeze had begun to blow and there was no

telling how strong this would become before the race was ended.

If Joe was on his mettle, so was the youth from Brookside, and each did

his level best to get ahead of his rival. On and on flew the biplanes,

keeping side by side. Then the turn at the end of the lake was gained,

and away they whirled in the direction of Pleasant Point and Cresco.

“It’s nip and tuck,” thought Joe, as he flew onward. “George is

certainly doing his best with the _Swallow_.”

Not far from Cresco Joe got a little scare. The motor seemed to slow

down and the _Skylark_ began to drop. What could be the matter he could

not imagine. Then came a sudden strong gust of wind that sent his craft

up on one side.

Had Joe lost his presence of mind he might have had a bad accident. But

he kept his wits about him and soon brought the aircraft to an even

keel. Then, just as he was sailing over Cresco, his motor commenced

to pick up again, and off he darted like a streak in the direction of

Brookside.

But if he had hoped to leave the _Swallow_ behind, he was mistaken.

George had also felt the gust of wind and had had a little trouble with

his controls. But now he was running as freely as was the Lakeport

boy, and he kept gaining foot by foot until he was a good fifty yards

ahead of the _Skylark_. In this position they sailed over Brookside,

the crowds in the streets cheering them lustily.

It was now a straight course for the aviation field and Joe felt if

he was to win the race he must do something to increase his speed. He

looked over his controls carefully and then worked at his motor. It is

needless to state that George did the same.

On the field the crowd waited with breathless interest. Many in the

grandstand were standing up, and all field glasses were leveled in the

direction of Brookside.

“Here they come!” was the cry at last, and instantly everybody was on

the alert.

“It’s a tie race!”

“No, the _Swallow_ is ahead!”

“It’s a neck and neck affair!”

These and a hundred other cries rang out, and in the midst of this the

band struck up. Swiftly the two biplanes approached, and then it was

seen that the _Skylark_ was ahead.

“Hurrah! the _Skylark_ wins!”

[Illustration: “HURRAH! THE _SKYLARK_ WINS!”]

“Yes, but it is a pretty close race!”

“Good for Joe!” cried Harry, enthusiastically. “I knew he could do it!”

And then amid a wild cheering the _Skylark_ came down in the aviation

field, to be followed twenty-two seconds later by the _Swallow_.

Joe had won the long-distance race for biplanes, and the boys of

Lakeport had captured the majority of points for the aero meet!

It was a gala occasion for our young friends. Joe was surrounded

and clapped on the back, and some wanted to even carry him on their

shoulders, but he would not permit this. As for George, even though he

had lost, he was congratulated on the fine flight he had made--having

covered the total distance in ten minutes less than had been expected.

“A very fine race, boys!” cried Mr. Corsen. “And a fine meet all the

way through! I am proud of all of you!” And then he invited all the

participants to a big banquet to be held during the next week,--a

banquet at which the various prizes that had been won would be

distributed.

“And the best of it all was that there were no mishaps,” said Mrs.

Westmore.

“And that we made a lot of money for charity,” added Harry. “We sold

over seven hundred dollars’ worth of plain tickets and got two hundred

and sixty dollars extra for the grandstand.”

“And we girls made about fifty dollars on cake and ice-cream and

lemonade,” said Laura. “We told everybody the money was for charity and

they simply had to buy.”

“Oh, it was great!” cried Fred. “I’d like to have another aero meet

like it!”

“So would I!” added Link.

“And win every contest,” said Joe, with a smile.

“Right you are!” came in a chorus from the boys.

* * * * *

And here let me add a few words more and then bring to a close this

story of the doings of the boys of Lakeport.

When the Westmore boys got home a surprise awaited them. They found

Mr. Akers sitting up in a rocking-chair, talking earnestly to a

well-dressed stranger of not quite his own age.

“This is my cousin, Mr. Clarence Harkness, from California,” explained

the old inventor. “He has been hunting for me for a month and has just

found me. I have been telling him about my troubles with Mason and

Chase and he is going after them hot-footed at once. I know I can trust

him to do just the right thing.”

“I am glad to hear this,” said Mr. Westmore; and a long talk followed

between the newcomer and the Westmores.

The following Monday Mr. Harkness, Mr. Westmore, and Mr. Rush went to

Springfield, to interview Thomas Mason and Lamar Chase. They went fully

prepared to “lay down the law” and cause the arrest of the two rascals

if necessary.

But they had an easy time of it, for both Mason and Chase were

thoroughly scared, and willing to do anything to get out of the scrape

in which they found themselves. They tried to prove that they had

thought Mr. Akers out of his mind and were working for his interests,

but the gentleman from California and the men from Lakeport would not

listen to this.

“We know you thoroughly,” said Mr. Harkness, sternly. “We want you to

give up all his property, and at once. If you don’t, I shall call an

officer and have you placed under arrest.”

“Don’t do that!” cried Thomas Mason. “I’ll give up everything!”

“So will I!” added Lamar Chase. “It was--er--all a mistake!” And he

sank back in a chair, all but overcome. The transfer of the stock and

of the other papers was made that day, and later on came the transfer

of the real estate on which the hut was located, where Joe had once

seen the two men,--the hut where Andrew Akers had thought to build a

quiet home.

“I think my cousin owes you something for what you have done for him,”

said Mr. Harkness to Mr. Rush and Mr. Westmore, after the various

transactions were over.

“Not at all,” said Mr. Westmore. “Didn’t he give the boys the biplane?”

“We are glad to be of service to him,” added Fred’s father. It may be

added here that later on Andrew Akers built himself a modest home on

the land he owned, and there the lads of Lakeport often visited him.

“What has become of Si and Ike?” asked Fred of Joe, one day.

“Oh, haven’t you heard the news?” answered the other. “In some way Mr.

Voup and Mr. Boardman heard about what Si and Ike did for Mason and

Chase, and they got awfully afraid the pair would be arrested. Si and

Ike have been sent away for a vacation in Canada, and this fall both

are to go to a strict boarding school up in New York State.”

“Humph! I hope it does ’em good,” put in Link.

“So do I,” answered Joe. It may be said here that Si and Ike remained

at the boarding school a long time and when they returned home they

were much better boys.

Thomas Mason and Lamar Chase never made a complete confession regarding

their transactions, but from what our friends heard they were able to

piece out the affair quite well.

“Chase discovered Mr. Akers at the Runnell cottage and watched him,”

said Joe, in talking the mystery over. “He saw the old inventor

hide his box in the barn and he got the box, opened it, stole the

certificate of stock and other papers, and put those worthless sheets

in their places. Then he went to Mason and told that man of what he

had done. Mason offered him two thousand dollars, but Chase held off

for more. When we went to Springfield--Fred and I--Mason didn’t know

whether to say Mr. Akers had any stock in the company or not, for he

was not sure he would get the certificate from Chase.”

“Yes, and then they went a step farther and planned to carry the old

gentleman off, and did it, and Si and Ike came along just in time to

help them,” added Fred.

The banquet of the Pine Lake Aviation Club, as it was called, was a

grand affair, and when Joe received the chief prize, in behalf of

the young aviators of Lakeport, he felt very proud. He was called on

to make a speech and did so, praising all who had taken part in the

memorable meet. Then followed a cheer for Lakeport and for all the

other participants in the meet. Then of a sudden came a hush, and Bart

stepped forward and called up Mr. Corsen.

“You have been our best friend, Mr. Corsen,” said the big youth. “You

helped us at baseball, football, at rowing, at autoing, and at flying.

In behalf of my fellow members of this Aviation Club in general, and

in behalf of the members from Lakeport in particular, I take great

pleasure in notifying you that you have been unanimously elected an

honorary member of this club, and I am more than pleased to present you

with this, the first badge of the organization, and trust you will do

us the honor to wear it.” And then Bart passed over a beautiful badge

of gold,--a tiny model of an aeroplane, suitably engraved with names

and date. The badge was accepted with pleasure by the gentleman who had

done so much for the lads of Lakeport; and then followed a cheering

that lasted for several minutes.

“Great, wasn’t it?” said Fred, when he and his chums were returning

home.

“It was immense!” answered Harry.

“The best ever!” murmured Joe. He looked around at his friends. “Tell

you what, fellows, Lakeport is just the dandy place to live in, isn’t

it?”

“That’s what it is!” came in a chorus. And here let us leave our young

friends, wishing them all well.

THE END

Transcriber’s Notes

• Italics represented with surrounding _underscores_.

• Small Caps converted to ALL CAPS.

• Obvious typographic errors silently corrected.

• Variations in spelling and hyphenation kept as in the original.

• Illustrations relocated close to relevant material. Page

references for illustration placement removed.

The aircraft boys of Lakeport · 第 30 / 30 章