That Night
After all their precautions, the sailing away of the airplane without
them was a bitter pill to swallow. The Hardy boys had been so confident
that the men would remain in this place until the night of the
twenty-eighth that this early morning flight took them completely by
surprise.
“We’ve lost them now,” said Frank. “We don’t know where they’re going or
where this hold-up, or whatever it is, is going to take place. And we
don’t even know where we are ourselves.”
“It’s tough luck. After all the trouble we went to!”
“I guess the only thing we can do now is go back to Bayport and do our
best to warn the post office authorities. I have a pretty good hunch
that the gang are planning another air mail robbery. Why else would they
use a plane?”
“Not much use staying here,” agreed Joe. “They certainly stole a march
on us that time.”
They got dressed and left the empty house. Neither said very much, for
they were discouraged beyond measure. All their discomfort of the past
two days seemed to have gone for nothing. They realized that the defeat
was not their fault, because they could not anticipate that Ducroy and
his cronies would leave that morning when they had definitely planned to
remain in the vicinity all day; but there remained the unescapable fact
that the quarry had eluded them.
“Perhaps the police in the village recognized them and they had to clear
out,” suggested Joe.
“I guess that’s the reason. I can’t think of any other.”
They trudged down the lane that led out toward the village road. Their
immediate plan was to reach the village, find out where they were, and
then return to Bayport as soon as possible.
“There’s just a slim chance we may be able to catch them yet if we tell
the post office authorities all we know,” Frank pointed out. “But we
haven’t much time to work in.”
The sky was overcast and cloudy that morning, in harmony with the mood
of the Hardy boys. They found it difficult to be cheerful after the
reverse they had just suffered.
“I’ll bet there isn’t even a railway here,” grumbled Joe.
“And our roadster is miles away.”
“What a fine fix we’re in!”
“Perhaps they’ll come back,” remarked Frank, trying to be optimistic.
“They’re gone for good.”
The Hardy boys crossed a rustic bridge over a stream and went up the
dusty road into the village. It was only a small farming town and there
were few people in sight. Several cars were parked in front of the small
hotel.
“We might as well go in here and have breakfast,” suggested Joe. “Our
sandwiches are all gone.”
They went into the hotel and entered the dining room. In spite of the
disappointment they had suffered, their appetites still held good and
they managed to make away with a goodly supply of ham and eggs,
flapjacks and syrup, toast and coffee. The meal over, they felt better.
After paying the check at the desk, they sat down to consider future
plans.
The clerk told them that the village was about one hundred miles from
Bayport, and that the nearest railway was four miles distant. If they
hired a man from the garage to drive them to the station they could
catch a train that would bring them to Bayport late that afternoon.
“I guess it’s the best we can do,” said Frank. “Mighty flat ending to
our adventure.”
“Perhaps it isn’t over yet.” Joe was looking out into the street.
Suddenly he clutched his brother’s arm. “Look, Frank! Do you see what I
see?”
Frank looked out. He gasped with astonishment.
Across the street, lolling in the doorway of a grocery store, was a
familiar figure. There was no mistaking the battered hat, the shabby
clothes, the mournful and unshaven features.
“Newt Pipps!”
“He’s still here.”
At that moment the Hardy boys were perhaps the most delighted and amazed
lads in the United States.
“They left him here,” said Frank. “Why, this means the others will be
coming back!”
“Unless they’ve ditched Newt altogether.”
“They wouldn’t do that,” said Frank, meeting Joe’s objection. “He knows
too much. He knows all about this crime they have been planning. Ducroy
and Ollie Jacobs would be afraid to get rid of him now.”
“That’s right, Frank. We gave up hope too quickly. The other pair will
probably be coming back to the farm to-day.”
“We’d better get back there just as quickly as we know how. We don’t
want to be caught napping now.”
Newt Pipps was still standing in front of the grocery store. Apparently
he had no intention of moving on. The Hardy boys knew they were risking
discovery if they went out the front entrance, so they scouted around
until they found a back door to the hotel and departed unobtrusively.
They cut across the yard, went down a lane, and soon found themselves on
the road leading back to the farm.
They were about half way back to the farm when they heard a distant
droning noise. Frank looked up.
“Here comes the plane!”
A speeding shadow in the sky quickly resolved itself into the shape of
an airplane, which gradually approached and began to descend in wide
spirals. The boys left the road and took to the shadow of the trees, for
although they knew there was little chance of being recognized from the
air, they were taking no risks. The plane came lower and lower, then
skimmed across the fences, coming to rest in the field near the old
farmhouse.
“If this isn’t luck!” exclaimed Frank.
“They probably went away to get gas and oil. Now, if they’ll only give
us a chance to get back in our hiding place again everything will be all
right.”
They went on cautiously, toward the field. They had just come to the
entrance of the lane leading down toward the farm when they heard
voices. Frank and Joe scrambled into the hedge and hid themselves.
They were not a moment too soon.
Giles Ducroy and Ollie Jacobs clambered over the fence, only a few yards
away.
“Everything is all set now,” Ducroy was saying. “We’re all fueled up,
the plane is in first-class shape, and we’re all ready for the big job.”
“We’ll go back and pick up Newt now,” said Ollie Jacobs.
“He gives me a pain,” grumbled Ducroy. “If it wasn’t that he has been
with us from the start I’d be tempted to drop him right now. Imagine
being too frightened to go on that flight with us this morning.”
“Newt is yellow.”
“He certainly is. Well, as long as he comes with us to-night and does
his part, I don’t care how yellow he is about flying.”
“Shall we come back here right away?”
“No. Some of these villagers might get suspicious. We’ll hang around
town until it gets dark. Then we’ll set out. I know the exact time and
place we can count on meeting this fellow and the whole thing ought to
be over in twenty minutes.”
“Good,” said Jacobs.
The two men went on down the lane. They had not seen the Hardy boys
hiding in the hedge. When they reached the road they turned in the
direction of the village and in a few moments were lost to view.
Frank and Joe crawled out of the hedge.
“On the trail again,” said Frank.
“We shan’t have to stay hidden in the plane, after all. This is luck.”
They hastened down the lane to the farmhouse. Unwittingly, the rascals
had played into their hands. They now knew that Ducroy would not start
on the mysterious mission until after darkness had fallen, and they
resolved to be in readiness.
“Just when we had given up hope,” said Frank, “everything gets clear
again!”
“Clear enough so far,” agreed Joe. “We won’t take any chances on
slipping up again. We’ll be hiding in that plane at sundown.”
The boys went back to the house and there they remained for the rest of
the day. They found that from one of the upper windows of the building
they could have an uninterrupted view of the road leading to the
village, and they made frequent visits to this window in order to make
sure that Ducroy and his companions would not steal a march on them.
However, the afternoon dragged past with no sign of the trio, and it was
evident that they were following their original program of loafing about
the village.
The airplane, which had evidently escaped notice, rested alone in the
field.
Toward the latter part of the afternoon the clouds which had been
gathering all day gathered overhead and there was a light shower of
rain. It passed over, but the weather became cool and blustery.
“A bad night for flying,” remarked Frank.
“If Ducroy can chance it, so can we.”
“That’s right. I hope they don’t call it off.”
“Not after waiting this long,” said Joe. “Ducroy has set his heart on
this affair. It’ll take a mighty stormy night to make him quit at the
last moment.”
The afternoon seemed endless, but at last Frank turned to his brother.
“We may have quite a while to wait, but I think we ought to go over to
the plane now.”
“I don’t mind waiting. I’d rather wait an hour or so than be left
behind, as we thought we were this morning.”
“Let’s go, then.”
The boys left the house and went over to the field. The airplane was
apparently just as Ducroy and Jacobs had left it. There was no sign of
anyone on the village road.
The Hardy boys climbed into their hiding place and made themselves as
comfortable as possible. For the time being, they left the door open for
the sake of fresh air. Minutes went by. The sky grew darker and the wind
rose. Once in a while a gust of rain spattered against the wings of the
machine.
At last Joe crouched forward.
“Here they come! I see a light down the road.”
He reached out and closed the door.
Breathlessly, the Hardy boys awaited the next move in their perilous
adventure.