THE INSIDE OF A JAIL.
As has been said, it was morning when Havens caught sight of the pretty
little city of Monterey on the Pacific coast. He had traveled steadily
all night, and was very tired, so he decided to drop down near the town
and rest during the day. Remembering the instructions he had given to
the boys, he had no thought of seeing either the _Louise_ or the
_Bertha_ in the air at that time.
The young millionaire had made a very swift flight across the continent.
It will be remembered that he had left New York city something like
twenty-four hours after the departure of the boys. The _Bertha_ and the
_Louise_ had spent fully twenty-four hours at St. Louis waiting for some
news of the _Ann_. On the morning when Havens alighted a short distance
from Monterey, the Flying Machine Boys had been on the coast something
like twelve hours. It will be understood, therefore, that the _Ann_ had
followed not far behind the _Louise_ and _Bertha_.
While the young millionaire was sleeping at a neat hotel, after
breakfast and a refreshing bath, Ben and his chums were discussing the
situation in the little grass bowl into which they had dropped the
machines during the dark hours.
Before leaving the _Ann_, Havens had, as he thought, taken extra
precautions for her safety. He had landed on a level surface in the
outskirts of the town, and had employed the man in charge of the local
garage to supply him with gasoline and at the same time station guards
about the machine.
While Havens slept a man who gave every indication of having traveled
over a long distance in a short time dashed into the hotel office and up
to the counter. The clerk eyed him coolly, as became a clerk having a
proper respect for his own dignity.
“Havens!” panted the man. “Is Mr. Havens here?”
“He is!” replied the clerk, readjusting the diamond pin in his
neck-scarf. “What do you want of Mr. Havens?”
“I want to see him!” was the panting reply.
“He left orders not to be disturbed!” growled the clerk.
“But he told me to let him know if anything happened to his machine!”
insisted the other. “Will you send for him?”
“I will not!” answered the clerk impudently.
“Then I shall have to go to his room!”
“I shall see that you don’t!” snarled the young man behind the counter.
“It’s a serious matter!” almost shouted the man in front of the desk.
“Write out a message, explaining your errand,” commanded the clerk, “and
I’ll have a boy take it to his room!”
The panting man reached calmly and deliberately over the counter, seized
the obstreperous clerk by the collar of his coat, and dragged him over
the obstruction. There he gave him such a shaking as a dog might have
given a rat, pitched him headlong to the floor, and gaily mounted the
stairs, taking three at a jump.
When he reached the top step the hall was ringing with his great bass
voice, and a little crowd was gathering below.
“Havens! Havens! Havens!” called the man who had assaulted the clerk.
It was not necessary for him to call many times, for the door of the
millionaire’s room opened almost instantly and his tired face looked out
on the man who was creating the disturbance.
“I thought I’d never get to you, Mr. Havens!” declared the intruder.
“You must have important information!” smiled the millionaire.
“I think,” the other went on, “that before we stop to discuss
possibilities, you’d better get your clothing on and make a break for
the field where you left the airship!”
In an instant Havens stood by the little heap of clothing he had
discarded not so very long before, and he was soon dressed and ready for
the street. Then he turned to the red-faced man at his side.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Rough-house!” was the reply.
“At the flying machine?” asked Havens.
“Yes,” was the disgusted reply. “There’s a man there claiming the
machine as stolen property, and there’s a crowd of yaps ready to back
him up. When I left, the two men I hired were standing them off with
loaded guns, but I don’t know how long they can hold the fort,” he added
with a smile. “It looked pretty serious when I left.”
For a moment Havens was almost dazed by the information. It meant that
word of his departure, and of that of the boys, had at last reached the
friends of Phillips and Mendoza on the Pacific coast. In some manner the
nature of his mission was known there at Monterey, and the friends of
the two outlaws were already busy.
“The first to do,” Havens suggested, as they passed down the stairway,
“is to notify the officers.”
“The fellow who claims the machine insists that he is acting for the
officers,” answered Stroup, the garage man.
“Well,” continued Havens, “we’ll have to take the sheriff and the chief
of police out there, and find out whether he does represent the officers
or not. We can soon settle his case.”
“I’m afraid,” Stroup replied hesitatingly, “that we won’t find any
machine there when we get back. It was just a riot!” he continued
angrily.
“The machine not there!” shouted Havens leaping for the door.
When he reached the porch in front of the little hotel he missed Stroup
and looked back. The garage man stood in front of the clerk and the
house detective who were attempting to place him under arrest for the
assault recently committed.
Enraged at the delay the young man hastened back into the hotel office.
“What’s the trouble here?” he demanded.
The whiskey-faced man standing beside the clerk tapped a brass badge on
the lapel of his coat significantly.
“I’m the house detective!” he declared.
“Glad to know you!” answered Havens. “What’s up?”
“I’m arresting this man for assault and battery, and for resisting an
officer. He’s committed an outrageous attack on the clerk.”
Stroup passed an inquiring glance at the millionaire, and Havens quietly
amused yet still anxious, gave a slight nod.
The next instant the maul-like fist of the garage man shot out with
lightning rapidity, and the clerk and the house detective tumbled over
on the floor. Before the clerk could straighten his necktie, or the
house detective staunch the flow of blood from his nose, Havens and
Stroup were well out of the house and on their way toward the threatened
flying machine, both looking rather sober.
As luck would have it, the hotel ’bus was just backing up to the walk a
short distance away, and the two fugitives immediately boarded her.
“Drive to the aeroplane!” shouted Stroup.
“Isn’t that rather indefinite?” asked Havens. “We can’t afford to lose
any time, you know.”
“Every man, woman, and child in town knows where the flying machine is
long before this!” answered the driver with a smile. “I’ve sent three
loads out there this morning now,” he added.
As the ’bus lumbered away, half a dozen excited individuals dashed out
of the hotel door and shouted for the driver to draw up. For a moment
the fellow hesitated and then began pulling on the reins.
“Get a move on! Get a move on!” shouted Stroup.
“But there seems to be other passengers,” argued the driver.
Havens hastily drew a ten-dollar bank-note from his pocket and thrust it
through the little opening to the driver.
“I’ll charter the ’bus for the trip!” he said with a smile. “Now run
away from the whole bunch.”
“Are you the owner of the machine?” asked the fellow.
“He certainly is!” answered Stroup. “Go faster!”
“I’ll do that,” agreed the driver, “because I think there’s something
doing out there.”
As the lumbering old vehicle drew away, lurching from side to side as
the horses ran at full speed, the crowd forming in front of the hotel
took to the middle of the street and followed on in hot pursuit,
shouting at the top of their lungs. Stroup eyed the procession grimly.
“At any rate,” he said, “we’re taking the right course to bring all the
officers in the city to the field where the machine lies.”
“I hope they’ll get there before any mischief is done,” said Havens.
“But look here,” he went on, “what was the trouble at the hotel? What
was that fellow arresting you for?”
“Why, he wouldn’t let me up to your room,” explained Stroup, “and I
shook him up a little. It is funny, the way his bones rattled as I
dumped him over in a corner of the room.”
“You’ll probably have a fine to pay,” Havens suggested, “but I’ll see
that it doesn’t cost you anything.”
“It’s worth a ten-dollar note to get your clutches on a puppy like
that!” said Stroup angrily. “He knew very well that my business was
important, for he had heard talk about trouble at the machine, and yet
he wanted to show his own importance at your expense.”
As the ’bus rolled and swayed down the street, it was followed by a
motley procession of hacks, delivery wagons, and private carriages. When
at last the aviator came in sight of the field where his machine had
been left he saw that it still lay on the ground.
“It’s there yet, all right!” shouted Stroup. “I guess we didn’t get here
any too soon, however!”
Those at the machine, the ones endeavoring to remove it under a
fraudulent process of law, saw the long line of vehicles trailing up the
street with the hotel ’bus at the head. Havens saw the crowd parting and
running in different directions, and then the _Ann_ lifted slowly into
the air.
At that moment Stroup was by far the more excited man of the two. He
opened the ’bus door and stood on the steps outside, waving one hand
frantically, his face glowing with excitement.
“Stop her, stop her!” he shouted.
The only answer which came was a cheer from the mob gathered below the
now swiftly ascending aeroplane.
When at last the ’bus reached the spot where the flying machine had
lain, it was at once surrounded by a crowd of curious and impertinent
spectators. Havens sprang to the ground and opened a conversation with
the first man he saw.
“I understand that the man who took the machine claims to be an
officer,” he said. “Will you point him out to me?”
“I am the officer!” said the fellow sticking out his chest.
“Where are your papers?” demanded Havens.
“A man don’t need no papers,” was the insulting reply, “in order to take
possession of stolen property, wherever he can find it!”
Stroup now pushed his way through the crowd to Havens’ side and looked
the fellow over with threatening eyes.
“Talk civil!” he advised in a moment.
“Now, Stroup,” said the officer, “don’t you go to butting into this!”
“That’s the man who let the thieves take my machine!” said Havens with
suppressed passion.
“That’s too bad,” exclaimed Stroup moving nearer to the officer.
Before Havens could lift a finger or say a word to prevent, Stroup shot
out a great fist which landed squarely between the eyes of the officer.
The fellow went down in a huddle on the ground, but the next moment the
posse he had gathered in order to back him in taking possession of the
machine gathered about Havens and Stroup.
“Here, here!” shouted a man in uniform pushing through the crowd. “I
arrest both of you fellows!”
“It strikes me,” Havens smiled, “that that really is the best way out of
it. This mob begins to look ugly.”
The two men willingly entered the ’bus with the officer and were hastily
driven to the city prison. When at last the door was closed and locked
against them, Havens turned to Stroup.
“Well,” he said, “for all long-distance, ready-for-action bruisers I
ever saw, you certainly take the cake! You’ve assaulted three men and
got us both locked up! And yet,” he added, “I rather like it!”
Stroup blushed and grinned and said not a word.