ON THE WATER
Hastening as rapidly as they could after the excitable lad, our three
heroes, with Mr. Glassford and his men turned the corner of the barn,
and were soon in the fields back of Jerry’s house.
“Where are you taking us, Andy?” cried Ned.
“Yes, what’s the trouble, anyhow?” demanded Jerry.
“Let--up--I’m--winded!” panted the fat Bob.
“Come on--he’s right near, now--Oh, I hope we’re in time--run!”
That was all the answer Andy Rush gave, but it was sufficient, for a
few seconds later they came in sight of the cause of his excitement.
A man was lying prone on the grass of the meadow near the edge of a
small brook. He was stretched out at full length and one arm and hand
seemed to be in a deep hole.
“Why, it’s Professor Snodgrass!” exclaimed Ned, as he recognized the
scientist.
“I told you--that’s him--caught in a hole--help him out--send for a
doctor!” spluttered Andy, dancing around first on one leg and then on
the other.
“Be quiet; can’t you?” pleaded Jerry.
“Sure I can. But I saw him--I ran for help--I knew something was the
matter--he called to me as I was passing through the field--he’s going
to die, I guess!”
“Oh, guess again!” cried Ned, for Andy’s excitable nature was getting
on the nerves of them all.
Jerry ran to where Professor Snodgrass was lying face down in the
grass. There was a look of mild wonder on the countenance of the
scientist.
“What’s the matter?” asked the tall lad. “Are you sick, Mr. Snodgrass?”
“Sick? No, Jerry. But I’m in trouble.”
“Trouble? What is it?” asked Mr. Glassford solicitously. “Can we help
you? You seem to be caught in the hole.”
“No, I have caught something in the hole, to be more correct,” spoke
the professor calmly. “Only he won’t let go, and I can’t pull him out,
or get my hand loose.”
“What is it?” asked Ned.
“A large mud turtle of a very rare variety,” was the reply. “I was
walking along, looking for specimens, and I saw this one crawling on
the bank of the brook. I made a grab for him, just as he was sliding
into a muskrat’s hole, and got him by the tail. However, he managed to
get into the opening a little way, and as my hand kept slipping from
his tail, I had to reach farther and farther in, until my whole arm, up
to the shoulder, is down the hole, as you can see.”
“Well, why don’t you pull your arm up?” asked one of Mr. Glassford’s
helpers.
“I can’t,” replied the professor simply. “You see the turtle has hold
of my hand, and won’t let go.”
“How can he have hold of your hand, when you have him by the tail?”
asked Jerry.
“Oh, I haven’t got hold of his tail _now_,” explained Mr. Snodgrass,
as if it was the most simple thing in the world. “You see after he got
down the hole he pulled loose his tail from my grasp, turned around,
and before I knew it he had my hand in his mouth. That’s why I can’t
pull my arm up. I have to lie here. In fact, I’ve been here some time,
and when I saw this young man passing by I asked him to go for help,”
and the professor indicated Andy.
“And I went--I ran--I jumped!” exclaimed the small chap. “I told the
news--I brought help--I----”
“That’ll do, Andy,” said Ned gently, and the excitable lad subsided.
“We’ll soon help you!” said Mr. Glassford to the scientist. “Here,” he
called to his two assistants. “Get some sticks, dig down through the
earth to where the turtle has hold of this gentleman, and kill it.”
“Oh, no! Don’t, I beg of you! Not for worlds! Don’t kill it!” cried the
professor. “It is a very valuable specimen, and I may never be able to
get another like it.”
“But it is biting your hand!” cried Jerry.
“You may get blood poison,” added Ned.
“Oh, I have a heavy glove on,” explained the scientist, “and he can’t
hurt me. But I wish you would dig him out, and then I could get him.
But don’t hurt him. He’ll hold on until then, I guess, and really I
don’t mind it a bit.”
“But you’ll get tired lying there,” objected Bob.
“Oh, no,” declared the professor simply. “I would be willing to lie
here all night this way, for the sake of getting such a fine specimen.”
There was no getting him to change his mind, or slip off his glove,
and let the turtle go. So shovels were sent for, and, after some work,
the hole was made larger, until the professor was able to put in his
other arm and pull out the turtle.
“Oh, you little beauty!” he exclaimed, as he held up the wiggling
reptile. “You are indeed valuable! Why that specimen is worth at least
fifty dollars!” he said.
“I know a pond full of ’em, and I’ll give you all you want for a
quarter,” said one of Mr. Glassford’s men.
“Not this kind,” asserted the professor proudly, as he bore off his
prize.
“Will you give me a ride in the airship, for bringing you news of the
professor?” asked Andy, as he walked back with the boys. He had calmed
down somewhat.
“Sure we will,” agreed Jerry. “You can come on the trial trip we’re
going to take to-morrow or next day--if you promise not to yell in case
we fall.”
“All right--I promise,” said Andy, after thinking it over.
Uriah Snodgrass, who was stopping at Jerry’s house pending the start
for Danforth, suffered no ill effects from his experience with the
turtle, and the next day was hunting new specimens with as much energy
as before. He was anxious to get started on his quest for the singing
fish, but, in the meanwhile, occupied himself as best he could.
It was found impossible to get the _Comet_ in readiness for a trial
the next day, but on the following one, when the last adjustments had
been made to the machinery, Jerry decided that it would be safe to
risk a flight. Mr. Glassford and his men had completed their work, and
departed, and our three heroes, together with Andy Rush and Professor
Snodgrass, made up the party that entered the cabin of the motor-ship
after it was wheeled out of the barn.
The hydroplanes which were on toggle-joint arms had been lifted up off
the ground, and could be let down when it was desired to float on water.
“I think we’ll go up by means of the gas bag, and not use the aeroplane
wings now,” decided Jerry. “We haven’t room enough to get a good start,
now that the _Comet_ is larger than she was formerly.”
Accordingly the vapor machine was set in operation, and soon a
hissing announced that the gas was entering the big bag that formed
the superstructure of the _Comet_. Some of the boys’ friends had
gathered to see them off, and Mr. Slade was present, for he was vitally
interested in the success of the remodelled motor-ship.
“How’s the pressure?” called Jerry to Ned, who was in the engine room,
while the tall lad took his place in the steering house.
“About five hundred pounds,” was the reply.
“That’s enough. We’re ready to go up. Andy, you help Bob cast off the
anchor ropes. Professor----”
“Oh, there’s no use asking him to do anything,” spoke Bob in a low
voice to his chum. “He’s just seen a new kind of a bug crawling around
on deck, and he’s after it on his hands and knees.”
“All right, I guess we won’t disturb him then,” decided the tall lad.
“We can manage. Get ready to cast off, Chunky.”
A little more gas was allowed to go into the bag. The motor-ship was
pulling and tugging at the anchor ropes, as if eager to be free to rise
in the air.
“Let her go!” suddenly called Jerry.
Bob and Andy released the ropes, and the _Comet_ shot up with the
swiftness of a rocket.
“Say, she’s got more speed than she used to have,” exclaimed Ned from
the engine-room, as he adjusted levers and gear wheels.
“I thought the new gas machine would do the trick,” said Jerry rather
proudly.
He started the big propellers, and soon the motor-ship, instead
of shooting straight up, like a balloon, darted forward, like an
aeroplane. Faster and faster she went, until the cheers of the little
crowd below could be no longer heard.
“Where are you heading?” asked Bob, as, followed by Andy Rush, he
entered the steering house, where Jerry was busy with various levers,
handles and valve wheels.
“Straight for Lake Hammond,” was the answer. “We’ll be there in half an
hour, and then we can see how the hydroplanes work.”
The _Comet_ was not pushed to her full speed, as some of the machinery
was new, and the boys wanted to see how it would work. They found that
it was doing satisfactorily, however, and the various new appliances
they had added were very successful.
They were flying along at a moderate height, looking for a sight of
Lake Hammond, a large body of water about twenty miles from Cresville.
Bob, Ned and Jerry found plenty to do, but Andy Rush was as good as his
name, rushing here and there, exclaiming in delight at the scenery that
seemed to be slipping along beneath him.
“It’s great--marvellous--wonderful!” he exploded.
“Remember what I told you,” cautioned Jerry.
“What’s that?”
“You’re not to yell if we fall.”
“All right--I won’t.”
The speed of the motor-ship was now increased, and she was skimming
along through the air, almost up to the limit of her previous record
before the changes were made. Jerry knew, however, that she could go
much faster when urged.
In a few minutes Andy, who was looking from one of the forward windows,
cried out:
“I see the lake! There she is!”
Jerry, who had set the automatic steering apparatus, and who had left
the wheel, hastened forward.
“Yes, there’s Lake Hammond,” he agreed.
“We’ll be floating on the surface in a few minutes if all goes well.
Slow down, Ned.”
They were all soon busy over the machinery, and when the craft had been
brought to slower speed they glanced down, and saw the shining waters
of the lake below them. Several rowboats and motor craft were on it,
and in the distance was a yacht.
“Are you all ready for the trial?” called Jerry, with his hand on the
lever that would let out the gas, and cause a descent.
“All ready,” answered Ned, and his voice was a trifle solemn. Suppose
the hydroplanes should not work?
“Here we go then!” announced the tall lad. He yanked the lever toward
him. There was a hissing sound, and the _Comet_, whose propellers had
ceased revolving, shot downward.
With a quick motion Jerry straightened out the toggle-jointed arms that
held the hydroplanes. They slipped into place, as the bicycle wheels
moved out of the way.
A few seconds later the _Comet_, with a little splash, had settled down
upon the surface of the lake as gracefully as a wild swan, and floated
as gently and as lightly as a cork.
“Hurrah!” cried Jerry. “She floats! She floats!”
“Will she move?” asked Bob.
“We’ll soon see,” and Jerry started the water propeller.
Slowly at first, and then gathering speed, the motor-ship adapted
herself to the watery element as well as she had to the earth or air.
“Success! Success!” murmured Ned, while from the motor-boats on the
lake came shrill whistles of greeting to the new and strange craft that
had so unexpectedly appeared among them.