A TRACE OF MR. BELL
The boys were not long in assuring themselves that their airship had
suffered no material damage. The lifting gas, which was contained in
the big bag, had simply leaked away, and of course Noddy and Jack
Pender did not know how to make any more. In consequence of this they
had been obliged to use the craft simply as an aeroplane, the dirigible
balloon feature being eliminated. They were evidently not enough
skilled in aeronautics to keep the craft constantly in motion, and so
it had descended in the field, one of the planes, and a deflecting
rudder, being broken, but not beyond repair.
“Those fellows certainly lived high while they were aboard,” grumbled
Bob, after a visit to the storeroom. “They have wasted as much stuff as
they ate.”
“And I suppose that worries you,” suggested Jerry, with a smile. “Never
mind, Chunky, as long as we have our airship back we won’t complain.”
“Not after the way you licked Noddy,” added Ned. “I was wishing I could
have a hand in it, but you finished him off too quick for me.”
“Yes, I fancy he’ll remember it for a few hours,” put in the chief of
police. “Well, boys,” he added, “is there anything I can do for you? Do
you want me to make a search for this Nixon fellow and the other one,
or for this Mr. Bell? Is he a criminal, too?”
“Oh, no, he is a very good friend of ours,” Jerry hastened to say. “He
is an old man, who once was a sort of hermit out West, near a lost lake
that very few persons knew about. We found him and restored a long-lost
son to him. But we have not seen him since. Accidentally we learned
that he was with these two bullies in the airship, though why we don’t
exactly know. But we certainly don’t want him arrested, though he seems
to have disappeared.”
There was no doubt of it. Jackson Bell was not in the craft, though
whether he had recently left, or had gone some time before the arrival
of the three chums, was impossible to say.
“Well, if I can’t do anything for you I think I’ll go back to town,”
went on the chief.
“Yes,” agreed Jerry, “and Ned and Bob had better go with you, in
the auto. I’ll stay here,” continued the tall youth, “and guard the
airship. You and Bob, Ned, can buy the things necessary with which to
repair it, and we’ll make a flight from here as soon as we can get it
in shape.”
“To rescue Mr. Bell and his friends?” asked Bob, who was contentedly
munching a sandwich he had made from some canned chicken he found among
the stores.
“Hardly, unless we can tell where they are,” answered Jerry. “We’ll
go west to protect our mine, for this looks as if there was another
conspiracy on foot against us,” and he held up the letter that had
fallen from Noddy’s pocket. “We’ll have to teach Tom Dalsett and that
gang another lesson, I guess. I only hope Jim Nestor will be on his
guard. I think we’d better send him a telegram of warning, and let him
know we are coming. I’ll write it, and you fellows can take it to town
when you go in the auto.”
“Don’t be in too much of a hurry,” advised Bob. “I think I’ll make
another sandwich. Don’t you want one?” and he started for the kitchen
of the airship.
“Here, you cut that out!” ordered Ned, good-naturedly. “Work first and
eat afterward.”
Bob looked a little disconsolate, but complied with his friend’s
desire. Jerry had quickly written a telegram, and given it to Ned, who,
with Bob and the chief of police, started across the field to where the
auto had been left. They were soon speeding toward town.
Left alone in the airship Jerry strolled about it, taking note of the
various features, and marking with displeasure where the carelessness
of Noddy and Jack had done some slight damage.
The _Comet_ is fully described in the ninth book of this series,
entitled “The Motor Boys in the Clouds,” but perhaps a brief statement
of the wonderful craft may not be out of place here. The airship
consisted of two sections. There was the big cigar-shaped bag, which
contained the gas, and which formed the dirigible balloon part of
the ship. This bag was filled with a strong lifting vapor, of secret
composition.
Then there was the aeroplane feature, the big wings being fitted at
right angles to the gas bag, and strongly braced. Thus the _Comet_
could be used as a balloon, or, at the will of the occupants, or in
case of accident, could glide along like an aeroplane.
Below the big bag was the body of the ship, consisting of an enclosed
framework, divided into several compartments. There was a living
room, or cabin, a room where several berths provided ample sleeping
accommodations, the motor or engine room, and a cooking galley. From
the engine room the big propellers, two of them, could be controlled,
as could also the rudders, one designed to send the ship to right or
left, and the other to elevate or depress it. There was a small pilot
house for the steersman, and windows in the cabin affording a view on
all sides, while heavy glass ones in the bottom of the car enabled the
occupants to look down on the earth below. There were lockers for the
storage of food, supplies and the necessary materials for making the
lifting gas on board, so that, if necessary, the bag could be filled
even while the ship was in motion.
Jerry walked all about the craft, noting every feature. He saw that
comparatively few repairs would be needed before he and his chums could
set sail in it.
“Then we’ll start for the west,” Jerry said, talking to himself. “We’ll
have to hustle to beat Noddy and that gang, for they evidently expect
to get that gold mine away from us if they can. Then there’s this
matter of Mr. Bell. I can’t understand that at all. Why was he with
Noddy? What did he want of an airship? Was he really here at all, or
was it some one who looked like him, and who helped Noddy to steal our
_Comet_? I wish I could answer those questions. Maybe it wasn’t Mr.
Bell, after all. It might have been one of the Dalsett gang, dressed up
to represent him.”
As he thought of this possibility Jerry became uneasy. He began to wish
Bob and Ned would return, for he feared Noddy might come back at any
minute, accompanied by some of the scoundrels with whom he associated,
and regain possession of the airship. But, as he thought of the broken
plane, and realized that there was scarcely any gas in the bag, Jerry
knew that whoever came could not run away with the flying craft.
He walked through the cabin again, and near one of the seats he noticed
some torn pieces of paper. Idly he picked them up, and, as he scanned
them, thinking more of the recent events he had passed through than
of anything else, he saw that the fragments bore writing. One of the
pieces contained a name--Thomas Bell--and at the sight of that Jerry
uttered a cry:
“Tommy Bell!” he exclaimed. “Why that’s the name of Mr. Bell’s son--the
one we rescued from the Mexicans! This looks like a letter written to
him, and afterward destroyed. I wonder if I can make out anything from
it? I’ll try, for maybe he and Mr. Bell are in trouble, and I can help
them.”
With nervous fingers Jerry sought to piece together the fragments of
the torn letter. But it was not all there. Only disconnected words
could be made out, but from these the tall lad decided that it was a
missive written by Jackson Bell to his son, but, for some reason, torn
up before it was sent. And from the words he could decipher Jerry felt
that he held in his hands some clew to the mystery--the mystery of the
air, which Mr. Bell had set out to solve with Noddy and Jack, who had
deceived him. For Jerry read such words as “will try to help them,”
“can now get to the deep valley,” “they may yet be alive,” “Noddy is
friend of the motor boys----”
“That’s where he’s wrong,” commented Jerry, grimly. Then he found a
larger fragment, which he had overlooked. It contained these words:
“and so Tommy, my boy, you may soon expect me back in the west, and
together we will go to the aid of those people, some of whom were my
friends, so long and so mysteriously lost. I feel that we can save them
in the airship, which I thought of as a last resort, after reading what
Jerry Hopkins and his chums had done in their wonderful craft. I will
soon be with you. JACKSON BELL.”
“Jackson Bell!” cried Jerry, springing to his feet, and staring at the
signature on the scrap of paper. “Then Mr. Bell has been here--in this
ship--there is no doubt of it! He wrote this letter to his son, but it
was torn up, and never posted. Can there have been foul play here? Have
Noddy and Jack made away with Mr. Bell?” The thought was too terrible.
Jerry dismissed it at once, yet he could not help adding:
“The mystery is deepening. There are three puzzles now to solve. How to
save our mine, how to rescue the people of the valley, and how to find
Mr. Bell.”