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[Illustration:
Descending from his seat, the aviator was greeted by two boys not far
from his own age.
_The Flying Machine Boys on Duty._ _Page 4._]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE FLYING MACHINE BOYS ON DUTY
Or
The Clue Above the Clouds
by
FRANK WALTON
Author of
“The Flying Machine Boys on Secret Service”
“The Flying Machine Boys in the Wilds”
“The Flying Machine Boys in Mexico”
[Illustration]
A. L. Burt Company
New York.
Copyright 1913
By A. L. Burt Company
THE FLYING MACHINE BOYS ON DUTY
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE FLYING MACHINE BOYS
ON DUTY
CHAPTER I.
ABOVE NEW YORK BAY.
An aviator, swinging northward in a June twilight, found himself
constantly annoyed by the driver of a machine whose only motive in life
seemed to be to get in the way. Turn as he might to right or left, sail
high or low, the obstinate and impertinent pursuer was always at hand to
threaten him.
To the west, lay Bedloe’s island, showing the Statue of Liberty, ruddy
in the sunlight. To the east, Governor’s island presented the
battlements of Fort Columbus and Castle William. To the north, or to the
northeast, to be more exact, lay Battery park, a smear of green at the
lower end of Manhattan island.
For a time people on ferryboats traversing New York bay looked upward in
momentary expectation of a battle in the air. Then the two flying
machines passed north along the line of Broadway, crossed over Bronx
park, and came to the vicinity of Pelham bay, in Westchester county.
Here the aviator who had shown such pugnacity in his dashes and swirls
at the other, and who had been repulsed only by the finest skill and
tact, wheeled straight to the west and was soon lost to sight in the
gathering darkness.
For a moment it seemed that the aviator who had thus far acted only on
the defensive was about to become the aggressor and follow in the wake
of his persecutor. In fact, he was about to swing away in pursuit when
the ringing of a bell at a hangar below attracted his attention. Then,
with a frown showing on a boyish face, he swung to the north a short
distance and volplaned to a level space in front of the hangar.
Descending from his seat, the aviator was greeted, rather anxiously it
seemed, by two boys not far from his own age. Very little was said until
the flying machine had been run into the great shed, and then the three
turned away to a rather elaborate office building which stood in a grove
of trees at the entrance to the grounds.
A chill wind was blowing off Long Island sound, and the boys found a
grate fire burning brightly in a private room at the rear of the
structure. They seated themselves before the leaping flames and looked
expectantly into each other’s faces for a moment before speaking.
Those who have read the opening volume of this series will need little
introduction to James Stuart, Ben Whitcomb and Carl Nichols. Street boys
of sixteen, they had, some months before, met Louis Havens, the famous
millionaire aviator, and accompanied him on a trip to Mexico which had
brought both fame and fortune to every member of the party.
On their return to New York from the “Burning Mountain” the boys had
planned a course in college, but, at the request of Mr. Havens, they had
promised to undertake a daring commission from the New York chief of
police. A short time before their return to the city the night-watchman
of the Buyers’ Bank had been murdered, the monster safe dynamited, and
thousands of dollars in currency and securities taken.
It was believed by the chief of police that the burglars—two of the
craftiest and most desperate criminals on the continent—were in hiding
in the wild and mountainous region south of Monterey bay, on the Pacific
coast.
On the theory that the Flying Machine Boys would be able to visit every
nook and corner of the region where the criminals were supposed to be,
with comparative ease, in their new and up-to-date machines, and, also,
that the appearance of the lads in that section would not be apt to
arouse the suspicions of the hunted men, the chief of police had
proposed the journey to Havens, and he had induced the boys to accept
the almost princely offer made by the official.
On account of the hazardous nature of the proposed trip, and because of
the long distances to be traveled, special attention had been given to
the _Louise_ and the _Bertha_, the two aeroplanes ordered made by the
boys immediately upon their arrival at New York. These machines had been
completed the previous day, and the trip over New York bay made by
Jimmie Stuart that afternoon had been the first tryout for the _Louise_,
a very strong aeroplane, capable of carrying, when necessity required,
two passengers and at least a hundred pounds of camp equipage and
provisions.
“Who’s your friend?” asked Carl Nichols, short, fat, blue of eyes and
pink of skin, as the three boys sat before the open grate fire in the
private room in the office building at Havens’ hangar.
“He’s no friend of mine!” Jimmie Stuart, red-headed and freckled-faced,
declared. “He picked me up down on the Jersey coast and did his best to
get me into a mix-up. I dodged him all the way to Bronx park because,
you see, I was not quite sure of my machine.”
“Did you get a good look at the fellow?” asked Ben Whitcomb,
grave-faced, athletic, and inclined to worry over troubles which had not
yet materialized. “It looked to me as if you might have slapped his
face, he was so near to you when you passed over Battery park.”
“Oh, yes!” Jimmie answered. “I got a view of his face from almost every
angle! He’s a low-browed brute, with ears like wings, and a hunch in his
shoulders which makes you think of one of the muckers at Croton dam.”
“He certainly can run a machine, though!” Carl Nichols declared, “and he
has an aeroplane that can go some, too!”
“But what’s the idea?” asked Ben. “Why should he be chasing you around
in that impudent way?”
“I’ve got a notion,” Jimmie replied, “that he wanted to try out the
_Louise_. He resorted to every trick known to airmen to induce me to
make some kind of an error in handling the machine. He’s an expert
himself, and he evidently wanted to know whether I am capable of
operating a peach of a flying-machine like the _Louise_.”
“I don’t believe it was just idle curiosity that made the fellow stick
to you in that way,” Carl interrupted. “I’ve been thinking that the
purpose of our trip to the Pacific coast may have become known to
friends of Phillips and Mendosa, the men who are believed to have
dynamited the safe of the Buyers’ Bank and murdered the night-watchman.
The crooks may have men on guard here!”
“That seems hardly probable,” Ben suggested. “The police have a pretty
good case against Phillips and Mendosa, and, so far as my knowledge
goes, a crook who stands in the shadow of the electric chair has few
friends willing to interest themselves in his behalf.”
“Yes, but look here,” Jimmie argued, “Phillips and Mendosa lifted
thousands of dollars in currency. So far as the officers know they still
have the entire proceeds of the robbery in their possession. Even
murderers with so many dollars in their possession are not likely to
lack capable friends.”
“I guess that’s right,” Carl put in, “and the two murderers will of
course scatter money like water in order to keep out of the clutches of
the law!”
“Yes,” Ben suggested, “the clues point so directly to Phillips and
Mendosa that they would naturally spend every dollar they stole in order
to keep away from the New York officers.”
While the boys talked, the door to the private office opened softly. Mr.
Havens stood for a moment on the threshold and then stepped up to the
fire. The young man was tall, slender and supple, with a dusky
complexion and black hair and eyes. He was twenty-four years of age, but
looked much younger. The millions he possessed had been inherited from
his father, and instead of spending them along the Great White Way, he
was devoting his entire attention to aviation.
“What’s the argument, boys?” he asked, standing before the grate with a
smile on his face. “Machines working all right?”
“Finely!” replied Jimmie. “I had a fine ride over the bay this
afternoon. The _Louise_ motor runs like a watch!”
“I saw you from Battery park,” Havens answered.
“Then you must have seen the gink chasing me up?” Jimmie asked,
tentatively.
“I noticed that,” Havens replied. “What was the occasion of it?”
“That’s just what we were discussing,” Jimmie said.
“And we had about concluded,” Ben interrupted, “that our plans regarding
the visit to the Pacific coast must have leaked out.”
“That doesn’t seem possible!” exclaimed Havens. “Why,” he went on, “even
the intimates of the chief of police at headquarters know nothing
whatever of the matter. There must be some other explanation of what
took place this afternoon.”
“I have known crooks to have friends among the men higher up!” laughed
Jimmie. “It may be so in this case.”
“There is one sure thing about it,” Havens went on, “and that is that if
any hint regarding your proposed trip in quest of the murderers has by
any chance become known to the friends of the crooks, the exact tactics
shown this afternoon would be likely to be resorted to.”
“Yes,” Ben agreed, “it does seem that the first thing the crooks would
do would be to prevent our departure for the Pacific Coast. A group of
flying machine boys certainly represents a new element in secret service
work! We must watch our machines after this!”
“If the fresh aviator really belongs to the crowd of crooks connected
with the murderers,” Carl broke in, “we’ll hear from him again. He’ll
follow us to the coast! He wouldn’t cease his efforts after chasing the
_Louise_ up New York bay.”
“He will have to chase us up if he continues his surveillance, for he
won’t have long to spy on us here,” Jimmie declared. “We’re to leave for
the Pacific coast day after to-morrow, as I understand it!”
“How about to-night?” asked Havens.
The boys sprang to their feet excitedly.
“To-night!” shouted Carl. “That will be fine!”
“That appears to me to be a good way of dodging trouble,” Ben
acknowledged.
“I’d like to go to-night, all right,” Jimmie broke in, “but I’d like to
form the acquaintance of that impudent aviator before I go!”
“I have an idea that you’ll meet him before you reach Monterey bay!”
Havens replied. “You would know him again?” he asked.
“Of course!” replied the boy. “He’s a low-browed brute with wing ears
and a hunch in his shoulders. I’d know him anywhere.”
“Do you really think he’ll chase us up?” asked Carl hopefully.
“I certainly do!” answered Havens.
“That will be great!” exclaimed Jimmie. “A flying machine race across
the continent surely appeals to me. Are you going along with us, Mr.
Havens?” he asked, then.
“I hope so,” was the reply, “although I’m not quite sure of getting
through with several business deals now under way. However,” he went on,
“you boys can go on with the _Louise_ and the _Bertha_ to-night, and I
can catch you somewhere on the way over with the _Mary Ann_.”
“Not me!” Jimmie laughed. “You can’t catch me with the _Mary Ann_ as
long as I’m on board the _Louise_!”
“We’ll decide that point on the way across!” Havens replied.
“Well,” Ben suggested, “if we’re going to start to-night, we ought to be
getting our camp equipment ready.”
“Aw, never mind the camp equipment!” exclaimed Jimmie. “We don’t want to
carry a load of stuff across the continent. We can carry one light silk
tent, like we had in Mexico, and a few provisions, and buy all the
mountain outfit after we get in Monterey.”
“That listens good to me!” Carl put in. “If Mr. Havens is going to race
us for three thousand miles in the _Mary Ann_, we don’t want to carry
much excess baggage.”
“How soon can you get ready, boys?” asked Havens. “My idea is,” he went
on, “that you ought to get out of the hangar as soon as possible. We may
be over-anxious regarding the matter, but it is my belief that you’ll be
followed unless you get away secretly. Now, you boys all go to bed in
the bunks in the hangar and I’ll attend to the details. When the tent
and provisions are on board, with plenty of gasoline, I’ll let you know.
Then you can get away at once.”
The boys objected to going to bed, declaring that they were too excited
to sleep, but at last, in deference to the wishes of Mr. Havens, they
sought their bunks. An hour later Jimmie awoke to a sense of
suffocation. Ben and Carl were sleeping soundly not far away and the
great shed was very still.
As the boy sat up and sniffed the air a burst of flame showed at the
front, sweeping fast toward the _Louise_ and the _Bertha_.